《Eldritch Guidance》 Glossary Characters A person who suffered a great series of tragedies in the previous world he was from. He woke up in a new world. Now living in and operates the store "The Mystic Emporium", under the guidance of a mysterious entity now known as Onyx. He welcomes customers who stubble into the store and helps gives them salvation. A student within the Shroom Pact collage at the university. Feeling down about being a Null Mage, he was going to engage in a bunch of self destructive behaviors, until he met John. His life then took a strange turn. Had a poor relationship with his family. After reviving the book of grand design from John, he seemed to develop some sort of strange ability related to mathematics. Often simply referred to as just "Scarlett". Is a famous disgraced archmage, of sixty years of age, that once worked for the Graheel University. Famed for her enchantment magic and contributions to the field of archeology. Is an exceptionally powerful Pyromancer and labeled as one of the most wanted Black Mages in modern times. Has a strange power through her red eyes, allowing her to "see" the past of an object. Can also use her eyes to see aether. She was framed by her former disciples for a crime she didn''t do and was betrayed by the other professors at the university. Falsely accused of both murdering and attempted murder of her disciples. A senior investigator working for the police in Graheel. Investigating the former gang leader Rob Anvil, before an unfortunate event occurred. He is now investigating the suspected murder of Rob. Has an adversarial relationship with chief of police. A senior investigator working for the police in Graheel and partner to Joe Striker. Has a reputation for being the more calm and level-headed of the two investigators. A former gang leader of group called the Skullcrusher. Is responsible for the death of two of Joe''s and Mike''s friends. Died under mysterious circumstances while under Joe Striker''s watch. Was once a very big and muscular man in the past, but has become wizened. A recently graduated officer from a isolated community. Assigned to Joe''s investigation unit after Joe made an agreement with chief of police Murdock. Seems to lack a lot of common sense when it comes to mutants and the city. A mysterious being that has taken on the form of a old man with red eyes. Seems to be responsible for John''s current circumstances. Its intention are alien and unknown. Name was given to by John. A Lionheart student that originally lived in the Gix Empire before his home was attack by the Endless War Cult. Moved to Graheel and became good friends with Jafar and Sere. Is also friends with Cid Miles, a childhood friend from Gix. He is tall and stands at six and half feet (1.92 meters). Has a lot of emotional trauma from being displaced from his home and losing friends and family. A childhood friend of Alan. Was there to help when their home was attacked and they needed to flee. Lived for some time away from Alan, and only recently reconnected when they both ended up attending the Lionheart collage at Graheel university. Is hailed as a combat prodigy. Very carefree and cheerful. A friend of Alan''s since he first came to Graheel. She was the daughter of the Lockheart family and was originally expected to become a combat mage. She defied that expectation and went into the SIlverwing college to become a healer. She has silver hair. Is also quite temperamental. A Embers Gear student and friend of Alan''s. Is someone that specialize in arcane mechanical apparatus. He was the one who overheard the conversation between Professor Black and Patariki about the mysterious deaths going on at the university and then told Alan about it. Is quite studious. Has poor hygiene. A professor of the Grayscale collage who specializes in Arcane law and is highly proficient in binding magic. Was discovered by Jafar that he was working with professor Pitter to cover up the discovery of formaldehyde in Edwards body from the Scefer family. A surgeon professor of the Silverwing collage, and manager of the university morgue. Discovered that there was formaldehyde in Edwards body and went to Sorin to talk about it, was then convinced by Sorin to try and cover it up. The son of a very rich and influential family within the Golgotta Peninsula. Was saved by Alan when a statue almost fell on him. Later died under mysterious circumstances. A member of the endless war cult. Was responsible for the destruction of Alan''s home town. A herbalist working at a store that sold various herbal remedies. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Helped Joe by giving him information on Rob. Was growing weird stuff in the basement of his store. Was revealed to be secretly a member of a nameless cult. Cult he belong to is known as the "Putrid Rot". Archmage and the headmaster of the arcane eye college. Is the unofficial leader of Graheel University. Extremely famous and said to be the strongest mage on the continent. Was once friends with Scarlett, but betrayed her. A renown business man and owner of Vaga manufacturing, a maker of aether powered vehicles. Controls a remote golem that looks like him to interact with people. Is a patron of John. Head enforcer and combat instructor working at the university. Nickname the green-haired demon due to possessing naturally green hair and training people in a way that looks like torture. Draws some sort of strange pleasure from making people go through her tortuous training. Is a S-class mage and highly trusted by Lazarus. An informant of the skull crusher that infiltrated the Nighthounds under Robs orders. Since skull crushers dissolved, he full joined the Nighthounds. He never told the Nighthound leadership he was originally a snitch and Joe Striker used that information against him. Is a coward. More commonly known as Archbishop Beck, he is a prominent religious leader within the Church of Light. Attempted to try and blackmail Crowley into destroying the speaker decrees so that he could secure his position as the next Light speaker. He is ruthless and willing to undermine sacred traditions and betray his principles to achieve power. Is cunning and manipulative. A Priest and former Hand of Light. He had a calm temperament and was generally beloved within his congregation. However, Beck blackmailed him, threatening him with excommunication if he didn''t destroy the speaker''s decrees. To protect the mutant members within the church, he made the difficult decision to retire and began openly disparaging Beck. Was Sheridan assistant. The saintess and leader of the Red Church. Known as the "Saintess in Red and White". Posses extraordinary healing abilities. Locations A major city state within the Golgatta peninsula. Famed for it''s university that shares the same name. Was the place where John woke up in this world. Originally just an empty space, but after John converse with Onyx, it became a strange antique store. As long as John is in this store, he could manifest things just out of sight. The store seems to have a mysterious power that makes it hard for people to find. It also seems to have all kinds of other strange effects on people that are inside the store. The largest and most extensive repository of knowledge on the arcane in the western continent. It resides in Graheel, but predates the city. It used to require that scholars submit their own works into the archive before they were allowed access to it, resulting in the Arcanium Archives acquiring the largest bodies of work on magic. A vast unclaimed geographical area that encapsulates the north of the western continent. Is uninhabited due to strange and terrifying creatures that reside there, as well as strange and unexplained phenomena. The Wildlands is separated from the rest of the continent by enormous warding stones, built by giants, that prevent the strange creatures and phenomena from coming down south. An alliance of different nations and city states that encompass the eastern side of the western continent. It is a political, military, economic alliance originally created for the single goal of protecting themselves from the influence of the Gix Empire. A massive empire that encapsulated the western side of the western continent. Was the most powerful nation on the continent until political strife, caused by a succession crisis, which made the empire collapse. It has now devolved into a series of states that are constantly at war with each other. People now commonly refer to the former territory''s of Gix as the "Warring States". A vast swamp land near the coast, located south of the former Gix empire. Is difficult to explore due to the terrain and hostile fauna. This has resulted in the area being a popular place for cults to hide. Historically, the territory has never been under the control of any nation. Is currently under the control of the Red Church. A small town in Agado swampland that is slowly being completely taken over by the Red church. Organizations The world''s majority religion. Preach the word of light in an attempt convert people to the path of light to save their souls in their beliefs. Sworn enemy to all nameless cults. A series of fanatical organizations that worship mysterious god-like beings. These groups of worshipers is often maligned and disparaged within most civilized society, as the majority of the followers engage in violent and cruel acts in service of their gods. Despite scholars grouping the cults together, they never been unified in any action and are even in conflict with each other These cult practices say that their gods have unspeakable names, so instead they created monikers to denote their gods. A nameless god cult that is dedicated to creating a never ending war. Is one of the three largest known cults. Is also suspected for destabilizing Gix and causing the civil war there. A notorious group of mad necromancers ranks among the top three largest cults and stands as the most significant necromantic order in history. Their devotion to their deity is demonstrated through the creation of horrifying bone effigies, often crafted from the remains of their victims. Many of the members seem to be failed artists and are the most psychologically unstable of any know cult. A newly formed religion spreading within the warring states. Is most practice in and around the swampland of Agado. Lead by a someone called "The Saintess in Red and White" who is said to have extraordinary healing abilities. Is suspected by many within the church of Light that this new religion is secretly a nameless cult. A cult that appears to worship a nameless god related to rot. One of the few cults that are relatively harmless, and pose no threat to other people. A crime syndicate that has almost complete control over everything everything on the east side of Graheel. Their main base of operation is within the red-light district. Miscellaneous A strange energy that exists within all living creatures and is used to cast magic and power magical items. A classification of mages that use their magic to commit heinous acts, and or crimes. Often associated with nameless cults and using forbidden magic. A classification of mages that exclusively fight against and restrain black mages. A term often used to refer to law enforcement. A type of mage that has no elemental affinity. Sometimes this kind of mage can develop or use unique types of magic, but if they dont, they''re seen as an inferior type of magic caster. Spells without elemental power infused are significantly weaker. A type of magic created to torment people. Comes in two classes: petty and major. Not usually lethal. A third class of curses exist called "deadly". This type of curse is always lethal. Not well known or understood. A type of highly illegal magic that reanimates the dead and bind spirits to the living world. Is frowned on by most in society. Most users of this type of magic don''t seem to be particularly sane. Is one of the main types of magic that members of the Rattle Bone cult uses. A illegal drug that turns people into mutants. Has a small chance of turning someone into a mage, so desperate people continue to use it, hoping that it will allow them to use magic. A blanket term to mean any human who has develop any physical traits that are not associated with a normal healthy human. The majority of mutants are created through the illegal drug known as Krimson. Majority of adult mutants are the result of forced Krimson injections as children. Many mutants face various kinds discrimination within society. Prologue - The Beginning of the End (Rewrite) Content warning: Brutalized Pets, Attempted Suicide. In the dark dank basement of an old house a ritual was being conducted. The room in which this ritual was being performed was lightly furnished and dimly lit. At the center was a large pentagram in an unknown language surrounded by lit candles. A person, in ragged clothing, stood at the edge of the pentagram. He was mumbling an unknown language. This person was John Li. A desperate man on his last legs in life. At another time he would have never imagined doing something like this. He thought of himself as a respectable man and not someone to believe in such hocus pocus. That was until a series of unfortunate events had led him here, or maybe not. For John was losing grip on his reality. He didnt know what was real or fake anymore. What he was currently doing right now might just be one of his nightmares. His thoughts were so jumbled up all the time, and were not well. It all began when an airplane crashed over the ocean with his whole family aboard. There were no survivors. His sisters, mother, father, aunty and uncles were all gone. He had been too busy with work to go on the family vacation then, and stayed behind with his then wife Lisa. Now he wished he could have been there. The death of his family began the start of a series of heartache, and he would have rather died with his family than lived these last two years. The cruelty that followed from that event for John was so unreal, he thought he must have been going crazy. Still heartbroken after the death of his family, his partner Lisa cheated on him and was attempting to steal all his money. She had managed to find a legal loophole to cheat John out of his family inheritance with her new lawyer boyfriend. John couldnt believe it. For such a loophole to exist, didn''t make sense. But all the same, he was forced to spend the last two years trying to appeal to the court. The source of this loophole was caused by Johns failing mental health. He didnt have access to counselors or therapists to help him process the pain he was going through. The stress and pain from losing your entire family was too much for John to bear. He snapped at work and started berating other employees and customers while throwing objects at them. After that happened, he woke up in a hospital with no memory of that incident. When told what he had done, he didnt believe them, but surveillance video forced him to accept it. Seeing yourself do something that you had no recollection of is beyond disconcerting. You start questioning everything and wondering what is real. He also started to have memories of things that didnt happen on top of no memory of other events that did happen. With such uncertainty in everything, John put his faith in his wife, until it was too late. She went behind his back and slowly started to gain control of all his assets, which at the time John didnt think much about. He knew he wasn''t well and needed someone he could trust to take care of him, while he tried to navigate the maze of his mind. He would recall doing something only to be assured by Lisa that it didnt happen. It was all signs to him he wasn''t well. There was a time he was beaten by Rick the lawyer, the person that was supposed to help him with his family''s estate. He did this while bragging about sleeping with Lisa. The day after that, John asked about that twisted memory and was told that didnt happen. That the bruise he got was from falling down some stairs. John was so dissociated with reality that he actually believed Lisa and Rick. One day he decided to secretly record one of his interactions with his wife and Rick. It was a conversation where they described in detail about their plan to steal everything he owns. They did this right in front of him. John, still feeling so disconnected with reality at this time, honestly believed that conversation was a delusion. No one in their right mind would explain the crimes they intend to do against you right to your face. He later watched the video back, and it was that same conversation about stealing his inheritance. John asked about that conversation with Lisa and again she said it didnt happen. But, then why was there a recording of it? He would wonder at the time. For days John watched the video over and over again, until it finally clicked in his addled mind. He was being gaslighted by his wife and Rick. He was not well, he knew this, but some of the crazy things he was experiencing were real. He then went to the police and tried to get their help. When he did so, they laughed at him. They then beat him up and said to send their regards to Rick. Bruised and battered, he limped home and wondered did he really just get beat up by the police, or if he just imagined it. The bruises he had were very real to him at the time, but the idea that the police would do something like that seemed so unbelievable to him. His broken mind couldnt make sense of it, and he questioned if he imagined it. By the time he got home that day, Lisa was standing in the doorway of their home. Once she saw him, she suddenly started crying and asked how he could do such a thing. He was confused by Lisa''s response and asked what she was talking about. She then pointed at a nearby tree and John could only gasp and look in distress. Hanging from the branch of the tree by a rope was the body of his pet dog. The white fur that was still attached stained red with blood as its body was completely mutilated. Someone had haphazardly taken something like a butcher knife and tried to peel the skin off on one side of the poor canine. The pet husky just hanged there limply with blood dripping down its body. John could feel tears forming in his eyes from seeing his furry friend like this. Lisa then accused him of killing their pet dog. Rick came outside and comforted Lisa by hugging her and saying everything would be alright. The overwhelming amount anguished John experienced then gave him a moment of mental clarity. Even at his lowest he would never hurt his pet dog Zu. The idea that Lisa was trying to convince him that he was the one to do that to Zu was infuriating. When he felt lost in his distorted thoughts, Zu would curl up beside him on the coach. The presence of the dog calmed him and made him feel a little more normal. John viewed the pet as one of the last true remnants of the family he had, and it was horribly taken away from him like the rest. The tears Lisa was shedding and the concern Rick was expressing looked so clearly fake to him now. He knew it was them that did this. If there was any longer doubt in John''s mind that these two were trying to screw him over, it was now gone. His vision started to turn red as anger overtook him. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. After that event, he woke up in a mental institution. He had no recollection of how he got there. It was like the workplace incident all over again. They told him he was raving and screaming when they brought him in. He ended up spending months there until he was discharged. After that, he was deemed too mentally unstable to stand in court and Lisa now had cause to put him into a proper conservatorship. The death of his family left so much to him. The inheritance was substantial, but with John having trouble with his mental health, it was up in limbo. But once he is placed into a conservatorship, Lisa would get access to it all. He was out of options. John couldnt do anything. He couldnt appeal the court decisions and was soon to what little autonomy he had left. Lisa would have complete control over John after that. From there he did not know what would become of him. Maybe some of the memories of being beaten by Rick were real, which wouldnt bode well for John. If Lisa and Rick would do something so horrible to his pet dog Zu, what would they do to him? How he wished anyone else from his family was still here. His family would see the bruises on John and not buy into Rick''s lie of him doing self harm. They would listen to him when he would say that Lisa is lying and trying to steal his money. They would be supportive when he had his mental breakdown, and give him love instead of using it against him, but in the end, he was alone. That is the misery that led up to this ritual. Before Lisa could gain complete control of John''s inheritance, John was going through his dad''s stuff and found a strange book. It laid out a very detailed ritual that claimed it would grant any wish. He had nothing to lose, so he tried to perform it. Over the days he secretly gathered the necessary items needed, and performed this ritual in the basement of the home he grew up in. He performed this rite everyday for the last seven days. It was all in some vain hope of trying to regain what he lost, but in every attempt nothing happened. Today was his last attempt. He did not have enough materials to perform the ritual again after this. John was kneeling at the edge of the pentagram, painting runes around it with his own blood. All while speaking alien incantations. John: Vada no huckoom da sa ma khan stooolba ygoyh! he shouted with intensity. The last rune was painted, marking the end of the ritual. Like the prior attempts, he was met with silence. It was demoralizing, and the end of the line for John. John: Why did I think anything would happen? I really have lost my mind, he mumbled to himself. He sat there, thinking what the hell he was doing. He wasn''t a superstitious person and didnt really believe any of this, but somewhere in his befuddled mind there was a tiny sliver of hope that maybe it would work. That small amount of hope had finally been snuffed out, leaving him only one way out. John pulled out his fathers old revolver from his pocket. He checked to see if it was still loaded, before he slowly cocked the gun. John stared at the gun for a minute, but it felt like an eternity to him. He was contemplating where he went wrong in his life. Was it marrying Lisa, or was it not pushing his family to postpone the vacation, so that he could go with them. Maybe he was always destined for tragedy since the day he was born. There was no clear answers, but one obvious way out. With a shaking hand, John pointed the muzzle of the gun at his head. He closed his eyes and tried to pull the trigger, but stopped. He was too scared to do it. A few more minutes and he may have built up enough determination to kill himself, but he heard a voice in the darkness. ???: What do you desire? something said in an inhuman voice. John put the gun down and looked to see where the voice came from. Looking around, there was nobody, just himself and the ritual circle in a dark room. John: Hello? Whos there? he yelled out. The sourceless voice spoke again. ???: What do you desire? it said a little louder. John was shaken. Did the ritual actually work this time? John thought to himself. He was beside himself that it actually worked. What rationality he had left told him that this was impossible, but he didnt care. John just wanted this nightmare to be over. John: I want my family back! he yelled out. There was a brief pause before the voice spoke again. ???: What will you give in return? John: Give? John was confused. There was no mention in the book about giving something to grant your wish. The necessary sacrifice should have been already paid with the materials used for the ritual. Yet the voice in the dark was still asking for more. John: What do you want? What do I even have left to give? There was a very unsettling moment of silence before the voice spoke again. ???: You still have your life, its words echoed out hauntingly. A shiver went down John''s spine at the response. John: I-I dont suppose there is something else I could offer you? He was met with just silence. Upon that, John buried his face in the palms of his hand while wailing and crying. Of course it was like that. Why did I think it would be any different? John thought to himself. John''s life had become one great tragedy. Pushed to the brink in this painful journey, he thought salvation had finally come to him when he heard the voice, but instead it was another that wanted to rob John of what little he had left. Even in his delusions, nothing would change for him. He would still die alone. John: Fine then. If I have to die, then I''ll die for the ones I love. For my life, bring my family back and end this nightmare! ???: Very well. A wind blew through the room from nowhere, extinguishing the candles. John was then left there alone in the dark. He couldn''t see anything, or hear anything, but his own racing heart beat. He was scared and unsure what was to happen. At first he could only hear the beating of his heart, then silence, followed by a tightness and pain in his chest. He grasped his chest as he lost balance and fell forward, landing flat on his face. His whole body twitched and shook before eventually falling limp. ?????????????????? It would be a week before John''s body was found. The cause of death would be labeled as a heart attack upon discovery and examination, but days soon after that, a major event happened. It turned out that the Li family and the other passengers of the plane crash had survived. They had managed to escape the crash, but ended up being stranded on an island, until they were discovered by a fishing boat and brought back to civilization. It was a major news story. People couldnt believe it at first, it was like something out of a movie, but it really did happen. It should have been a moment for celebration for the Li family. However, all this was not to be a joyous event. When they had discovered the body of John, they were devastated. They had managed to survive, but poor John did not. Mr & Mrs Li did not expect to have to bury their son upon their return. Once home, The Li family assets and wealth were returned to them. The whole inheritance process was in limbo due to John''s mental health, so it was easy for the Li family to get their assets back. John''s sister noted that Lisa seemed a little peeved about that at the time. The Li family in general was also a little sour at Lisa. They were told that the relationship broke down between her and John, but that she was doing everything she could to support him during his mental health crisis. Some felt that John''s mental health was not helped by their separation, but others also felt they cant entirely blame her for the relationship falling apart. However, any good will that the Li family might have had towards Lisa was completely lost when John''s sister found her brother''s records. During the time John was being manipulated, he wrote down his account and had a spare additional recording of Rick and Lisa outlining their plans to steal her brother''s money. John''s sister, being a lawyer herself, promised that she would take her brother''s tormentors to court. In the following weeks and months, the Li family would win its case against Lisa and Rick. It was quite easy, considering there was a literal video outlining their plans to cause enough emotional distress to John, that he would have another mental breakdown, so they could justify transferring control of all his assets over to Lisa. The damages would be paid out and Rick would lose his license to practice law. They would then go on to criminal court where Lisa and Rick would eventually be sent to jail. There was no satisfaction to any of this for the Li family. It just left many of them with feelings of emptiness. No matter what happened to Lisa and Rick, an uncle, nephew, brother, and son were all still lost. ?????????????????? In another city, in another country, in another world a fair skinned man with black hair soundly slept on a bed in an empty room. This man was dreaming of another life, all while the rain lightly tapped against the window of this vacant space. In time, this person would awake and begin his great work. Chapter 1 - Down on One’s Luck (Rewrite) The foundation of all magic in our world is from a substance known as aether. This invisible energy permeates everything, existing all around us and within every living creature, including you, the reader. Aether is highly reactive, responding to anything, including a person''s will. The essence of spellcrafting lies in exerting your will upon the aether, molding and shaping it to create different forms. Through this process, one can generate a myriad of phenomena: aether can be transformed into fire, water, solid matter, and even something that mimics life itself. However, it is important to note that anything made from aether is usually temporary. Without continuous exertion of will, aether will eventually revert to its invisible state. This transient nature of aether-based constructs requires constant focus and intention to maintain their form and function. Magic: The Basics by Sam Rork As dusk settled over the city of Graheel, Cid was wandering through the streets of Graheel in his green school robes, feeling dejected and lost completely in his own thoughts. The city of Graheel was ancient, boasting a long history and knowledge of the arcane. Many organizations and religions would visit this place in search of knowledge. Attracting the attention of those of the purest intent to help people, as well as those that would see the world burn. Cid was neither of those kinds of people. He came here solely for himself, to improve his control over the arcane. He learned and trained all in an attempt to improve his own life and be recognized as a mage. Cid saw society as divided into two groups, those who can use magic, then those who cant. Initially, he subscribed to the notion that magic was a great means for social ascension. But Graheel unveiled the harsh reality: mere magical proficiency was insufficient; one had to wield formidable power or possess rare abilities to truly excel. And Cid found himself lacking in both regards. His last arcane affinity test had yielded dismal results, revealing no affinity for any element, and the magic he could use effectively was useless. His speciality was the art of numerology. He could use numbers to make predictions of the future, but it requires a ludicrous amount of data for any degree of accuracy. Even the best practitioners of numerology were quite unreliable compared to other forms of divination. Outside of divination, numerology magic could also be used to make complex mathematical calculations. In the past this may have been useful, but with today''s technology, its processing capabilities were not much better than a phone or computer. This ability wasn''t good enough to raise Cid''s standing, and the only other magic he could use were all utility magics. Making things clean, hiding foul odors, moving small objects up to 15 feet (4.5 meters). Those were the kind of things his magic could do. This stark realization plunged Cid into a chasm of despair. The future seemed to be dictating that he was to be a janitor for some wealthy noble. He had sacrificed so much to reach this point, and couldn''t accept this. The friendship he sacrificed, his family he ignored, the love he had abandoned was all for nothing. He gave up so much just to learn how miserable his future prospects were. Not to mention the substantial debt he had amassed, a sum far beyond the reach of a janitor''s income. Cid was ready to jump off a bridge at this point. Thus, he wandered the streets, trying to take his mind off everything, unsure how he was supposed to pay for his next semester. He had managed to get into one of Graheel''s great arcane schools. He was of the Shroom Pact college. Not the most respectable of the schools, but they were the easiest to apply and get into. Cid wanted to just drop out, but a degree from the college was still useful. He could get a simple office job with a degree. It wasn''t what he wanted, but it made a little more money than a janitor. He was, however, still running out of money. Cid had expected he could get a side job while going to school, but with his ability, he couldn''t get any decent paying job that covered both his tuition and living expenses. It was either eat or go to school, and sadly textbooks cant fill your belly. Cid had stopped walking and looked around to see where he was. He had somehow managed to wander off the college campus into the east side of Graheel. He was so lost in his thoughts he didnt realize how far he had walked. Off in the distance he could see some of the neon signs that marked the beginnings of the red-light district.
Cid had heard stories about it. Many of the more wealthy students would go there regularly, and tell stories of the exotic pleasure and thrills that could be found in that place of vice. Cid never paid too much mind to it. He was too focused on getting his degree and unlocking his arcane potential, but now was different. Maybe instead of working towards a life of endless menial labor, I could experience the thrills of life I never got to. Then when my money or thrills run out, I could just end it all. Cid thought to himself. Cid was ready to step toward the Red-light district and enact a ruinous plan. Then a unique aroma entered his nose. It had a unique nutty, yet smoky scent. It was unlike anything that Cid had smelled. There was something about it that was stimulating, and he needed to know what it was. Despite the late hour, Cid''s determination drove him forward. With closed eyes, he honed in on the strange aroma, his senses attuned to its elusive trail. For minutes, he wandered, guided solely by the intoxicating scent, until finally, he came to a halt. Wait. Why am I even doing this? Who cares what that smell is. It''s not like it will not help me with my problems. Cid thought to himself. As Cid prepared to depart, a glimmer of light drew his attentiona solitary establishment illuminated amidst the dark street. Its presence, unnoticed moments before, perplexed him; how had he missed it in his earlier search of the street? It was strange. Cid had looked up and down this street to find the source of that smell, yet he somehow missed that store. It was the only store with its light on, it should have been impossible to not have noticed, but he had. The store itself was strange too. The sign on the front read Mystic Emporium. A store that sounded like it catered to magic users, but that didnt make sense. This was the east side. The vast majority of the aetherless in the city live here. They should have no need for a store that sells supplies that only magic users can use. Yet it''s here, mixed in with other stores and restaurants causally. He then noted how close he was to the Red-light district from here. His proximity to that place further fueled speculation..There was a lot of crime that went on in that district. It supported the possibility that this store had some link to those same illegal activities. It could also be the reason he didnt notice the store at first. If that store was involved with crime, it could be assumed they would use illusions magic to hide, and he had somehow crossed the threshold of such an enchantment, allowing him to see this place. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. A part of Cid''s mind urged caution, warning against unfounded paranoia. Yet, the allure of the unknown intrigued him, curiosity beckoning him into realms of the unknown. Cid thought he may be overthinking this. Regardless, A store like this, that is this close to the red-light district, definitely sounded like a place criminals would visit. People he would have never risked associating with in the past, but now was different. He was just going to blow his savings and kill himself after this anyways, so he decided to indulge his curiosity. Cid pushed the front door open, triggering the ring of a bell, announcing his presence. Upon entering, he was greeted by the sight of a man wearing an elegant black suit with a white shirt underneath. His clothing and black hair made his red eyes stand out, almost looking like they were glowing in the dim light of the store. Seated at a table towards the rear of the store, the man poured a mysterious black liquid from a teapot, his movements precise and deliberate. Pausing in his task, he glanced up at Cid and smiled, imbued with an enigmatic charm. Red Eye Man: Why hello. You''re a new face. What can I help you with? Cid: I''m just browsing. Red Eye Man: Of course. Please, take your time. Cid discreetly slipped into an adjacent aisle, concealing himself from view while pretending to peruse the wares. He was trying to look like he was examining the merchandise, while trying to get a better look at that man. Looking at him, he assumed that person must be the owner of the establishment. He was quite well dressed for someone operating a business in the east end. The red eyes of the man were striking, making Cid wonder if they were natural, or if this person was a mutant. Cid continued to survey the assortment of goods that filled the store: towering vases, gleaming suits of armor, jars brimming with dried herbs, blades of various make, and an array of books and trinkets. Yet, amidst this collection, there was a conspicuous absence of items typically coveted by mages. Perplexed, Cid could feel no trace of aether emanating from any of the merchandise, casting doubt upon the store''s was for magic users. This store is a fraud! It calls itself a magic shop, but there was nothing here a mage would want. All the items here are just benign objects you could get from anywhere. I cant even feel the store owners aeather, meaning he is just an ordinary person. Cid thought to himself. He then looked towards the red eye man with some level of contempt. The owner was not paying attention to Cid, instead he was reading a book while sipping his beverage. Cid was a little disappointed. He had thought he found a secret store for black mages, but instead it was just a normal store pretending to be a magic shop. He was ready to leave, but wanted to chew out the owner for doing such a deceptive practice, so he grabbed a random book off the shelf and walked towards the back of the store. Cid: Excuse me. Are you the owner of this store? The man put his book down he was reading and looked up at Cid. Store owner: Yes, I am. Can I help you with something? Cid: I''m Just a bit curious. For a magic shop, there is a very odd lack of arcane products. Store owner: Yes. I suppose a student from the colleges would notice that, he said while looking at Cids uniform. Cid felt like a blood vessel was about to burst. This guy was definitely a scam artist. He was probably scamming people who wanted to desperately become mages. Cid thought. People devoid of magical prowess proved susceptible to deception, their inability to sense aether renders them vulnerable to manipulation. You could give a magicless person a benign item and says it is magical, and they wouldnt be able to tell the difference. Without being able to control aether, they wouldn''t even be able to use those items even if they possessed genuine enchantments. Cid: Dont you think its a bit dishonest to advertise yourself as a shop for mages when you''re not. Store owner: With all due respect sir. I never advertise myself as a shop exclusively for mages. Cid: Then why call it the mystic emporium Store owner: Well... When I first named it I wanted to invoke ideas of mystery, and I thought the word mystic sounded very mysterious at the time. What a liar. Cid thought. He believed any reasonable person would know mystic is just another word for magic. Only people in the countryside, who generally are a bit more uneducated in the field of magics, might interpret the word mystic'''' differently. Cid also noticed this guy also obviously had some knowledge of magic. Being able to recognize Cid uniforms as being from the arcane colleges was proof of that. Cid: Then why not just call it the Mysterious Emporium. Store owner: Ugh. Ok, you''re not the first one to point this out to me. I know. When people see the word mystic, many assume a store for mages. Cid: That''s exactly what I was talking about. Its dishonest. Store owner: I know. I know. I should change the name of my store, but I don''t know if youve noticed, my store is kinda hard to find. If I change the name, the few regulars I do get would have an even harder time finding my store. Cid: Yeah. I wanted to ask. What''s up with that? Store owner: Its weird, right. The architecture and position of the shop blends in so well with the other surrounding stores, you cant see my shop unless you look at it from a very specific angle. Cid: So its just an optical illusion? Store owner: Yup, its crazy, right. Cid was feeling a little dumb for overthinking the nature of this store. Of course it''s something like that. This guy has no aether, so how could he hide this store with illusion magic. It really is just a normal store. Cid thought. Cid: That is crazy. Anyways, back to the topic. You shouldnt be naming this store like this, when there are no magical items, or anything a mage would want. Store owner: Now that is quite presumptuous, to assume there is nothing in this store a mage would want. After all, you''re a mage, but you still manage to find a book of interest in my establishment. He says as he points to the book in Cid''s hand. Cid looked down at the book puzzled. Why did he grab this book? He contemplated this until the store owner interrupted his thoughts. Store owner: Lets not forget friend. Mages are still just human. Mages are human? He confusedly thought to himself. It was such a simple, but profoundly obvious statement, and too much for Cid to take. Cid: No! Thats wrong! Mages are so much more than that! he yelled out. His outburst was followed by an awkward silence. Cid''s face became red in embarrassment. He wanted to apologize for shouting, but the store owner spoke before he could say anything. Store owner: You seemed upset about my stores name, but thats not really what you''re upset about, is it? Please, have a seat., he said while he motioned to an empty chair. Cid felt he had no right to refuse, so he grabbed a chair and sat across the table from the store owner. Store owner: Would you like something to drink? I have tea or coffee. Cid: What''s coffee? Store owner: Ah, well that answers that. The owner pulled out another teacup and saucer and began to pour a black liquid into it. It was the same thing the owner was currently drinking. The black beverage itself looked very unappealing to Cid. It was much darker in color than any black tea hes had in the past. It looked like something you would put in an inkwell rather than something you would drink. He wanted to refuse, but a familiar scent caught his nose. It was the same scent he smelled outside that he became obsessed with finding. So the store was the source. What kind of substance is this exactly? Cid wondered to himself. Store owner: Go ahead. Its good to try new things. Oh, by the way, it is quite bitter, so I would recommend adding some sugar and cream, he said as he pushed those items towards Cid. He felt like he was being offered drugs, but earlier he wanted to experience some thrills earlier, and the first hit was free if it really was drugs, so he discarded that thought and did as he was told. He added some cream and sugar before stirring. He then brought the cup up to his face and breathed in the aroma. Something about the smell was calming. The stress he was feeling earlier melted away a little in the face of it. He then sipped on his beverage and was met with a strong flavor. The sugar and cream took away the bitterness, leaving him with a flavor that was nutty, smokey, and of caramel with a floral note. The taste was unlike anything he ever had. It left his mind blank and calm. He felt he regained some sense of his rationality since walking off the campus today. The suicidal thoughts he was having were behind him, for now. Cid was thankful for this person''s kindness. Store owner: Do you like it? If not, I can get you something else. Cid: No, it''s delicious. Its unlike anything I''ve had before," he said, while smiling. Store owner: That''s good to know. Here, have some treats to go with it. From under the table, the owner pulled out a tray filled with baked goods. Where did he get those? Were they under the table the whole time? Cid confusingly thought to himself. Cid reached out and picked up a baked good and was surprised. They were still warm, like they were fresh from an oven. There was definitely more to this store owner that meets the eye. Store Owner: Care to tell me your problems Mr. Cid: Cid. My name is Cid. John: A pleasure to meet you Mr. Cid. My name is John Li. The owner of mystic emporium and someone who is in the business of helping people. Chapter 2 - Divergence of Fate Cid: Helping people? Exactly what are you selling? he said, while sounding skeptical. John: I sell pretty much everything that could be used to improve a person''s life. This definitely sounded like a general salesman pitch to Cid. Always saying they have what you need and that you need to buy right away, then more often than not, you buy it and are disappointed in the product. He might have dismissed this, but felt he could at least humor him for the drink and baked goods. Cid: Ha. that is quite a bold statement. John: It is, but I''ve been successful in the past. Just tell me your troubles and I''ll see what I can do to help you. Cid: I''m afraid there is nothing you can do for me, unless you can turn me into an archmage. John: What''s so difficult that you need to be an archmage to do it? Cid: Difficult? Theres nothing difficult when you''re an archmage. You get to live a life of luxury and anything you could possibly want can be yours. John: Sure, but why do you need to be an archmage? Cid: Are you listening? Why does anyone want to be an archmage, for power, money and status. Thats why. John: I think you''re misunderstanding me. You see, there is a difference between what you want and what you need, so let me ask you a different question. Once you get your fame and power, then what? Cid fell silent. He was thinking about what Mr. Li was saying. He had never thought about it. What would he do once he became a famous mage? He racked his brain, but was left with nothing. Cid: I guess, I never really thought that far ahead. I was too focused on improving myself to think about it. John: Not an uncommon thing for people. Focusing on the goal, but never looking beyond it. Do you even remember what inspired you to want to become an archmage? Cid: I never had such grand delusions of becoming an archmage. I just wanted to get out of my hometown and make something of myself. I''m sure youve heard the same things growing up about mages. They rule the world and no matter where you come from in society you can become one. John: But it didnt really work like you expected, did it. Cid: Yeah. Even within the world of mages there is a hierarchy and I''m at the bottom. Doomed to just be a janitor at best. John: What''s wrong with being a janitor? Cid: You''re kidding right? John: Not at all. Without such people society would collapse. Cid: Ok. If you''re going to make fun of me, I''m just going to leave. John: I''m not making fun of you. I was trying to explain to you that these ideas of meritocracies don''t exist, but I haven''t gotten to that point yet. Cid: What are you talking about? What''s a meritocracy? John: Do they not teach this in school? Well in the simplest term, the people with merit rise to the top of society while those without fall to the bottom. Cid: Isnt that how the entire world works. The survival of the fittest, right? John: Thats how nature works, not society. How meritocracy manifests in our society is that they teach you that an archmage is the highest honor you can pursue, that these are the people who need to lead us all, then they measure your worth as a human being against that. It''s a philosophy that makes people think you''re worthless if you''re not a mage. Cid pondered upon what he was being told. He wanted to rebuke this man''s words, but they made too much sense. He remembered the cartoons he watched as a child that idolized mages as heroic beings. The first thing they taught you in school is the great deeds performed by mages. They even tested one''s magic ability at birth to see if they could grow up to be a viable mage. All these things reinforced the supremacy of a mage. It could definitely drive people into an unhealthy obsession with being a mage, with some people desperate enough to take extremely dangerous drugs to awaken their own magical abilities. Was Cid himself really obsessed with being a mage like that? Would he have resorted to using drugs if he didnt have the potential to use magic? What was left if you take away Cids identity as a mage? John: The funny thing is, thats how meritocracy would manifest itself, if it existed, but it doesn''t. Im sure there are a bunch of people you''ve seen that dont meet the ideals of a mage, let alone an archmage, yet for some reason they hold positions of power. Some of them have skills outside of being a mage that make them reliable for the role, while others just use their money and influence to gain that position. Realizing that, it doesn''t really seem like the merits of a mage guarantee you can stand at the top, does it. Yet people continue to believe this and measure their worth against these ideas, poisoning their minds in doing so. Everything he was saying was true. The very mayor of the city was aetherless, but had risen to the position regardless. Cid knew people at the college that had abilities similar to himself, but would be guaranteed positions of power due to family connections. Cid: Does that mean everything taught about mages is a lie? John: Well, the ability to use magic certainly isn''t a lie, just that we overvalue mages and undervalue everyone else. It is the same mindset that created the disdain for janitors you displayed earlier. Cid: I dont hate those kinds of people. I''m just frustrated. John: But you looked down upon them. It is why you thought I was making fun of you when I suggested the importance of those kinds of jobs, and the people who do them. If you stop and think about it, things fall apart without them. Garbage and filth would pile up and spread disease, and yet we still view it as a worthless job, but if it was so worthless the job wouldnt exist in the first place. Cid: I guess you have a point, but why me? I put so much effort into becoming a mage, yet all my efforts come to nothing more than a janitor. Can one not overcome destiny? John: Hmm. Now that''s a difficult question. Let me ask you something. What do you think makes a mage? Cid: Someone that can use magic, obviously. John: Can you use magic? Cid: Well yeah. I wouldn''t have gotten into college in the first place if I couldn''t. John: Then you''re already a mage. Cid: But.... John: No buts. Remember what i said, its wrong to compare someone''s self worth to the ideals of a mage, or other people for that matter. It will make you depressed and lower your self worth. Whether you''re a competent mage or not, you as a human being have inherent self worth no matter what people say. Instead, strive to be the best version of you that can be. In your case, if you really want to be a mage, then be the best mage that you can be. Cid: Even if that means, I''m just a janitor mage? John: You would still be a mage and a person with an important job to our society. Cid closed his eyes and contemplated everything he had heard. Maybe he was destined to be just a magical janitor, but was it really so bad? Everything Mr Li had said was really eye opening. He had forgotten why he wanted to become a mage, but through this conversation it awakened a realization. He wanted to become a mage for the approval of others. Maybe instead of being obsessed with gaining the respect of others, I should focus on my own self respect and happiness. He thought to himself before opening his eyes. Cid: Thank you. I think I needed to hear that. John: Did you get the answer you needed to your problem? This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Cid: Yeah, I think I did. Well, at least half of my problems. John: What''s still troubling you my friend. Cid: Well you may have convinced me that being a janitor is a respectable job, but it doesn''t pay well, and I''m running low on funds. I think I might have to drop out of school at this rate. John: Oh, that is quite troublesome. They really should make education free, or at the very least affordable. I would hate for you not to be able to complete your education, but I may still have a solution for you. Cid: Are you perhaps hiring? John: No, but I can provide the necessary funds for you to complete your education. Cid: Im sorry Mr Li. I really cant take on any more debt. John: Who says it has to be a loan. Despite how me and my store look, I''m quite well off. It would be no problem on my part to just give this to you. Cid was shocked. He was a complete stranger, yet he was being offered a very large amount of money with no strings attached. He didnt know what to make of this, then an old saying echoed in his mind. Only the devil gives everything without asking anything in return. A warning to not take gifts that sound too good to be true. Cid didnt feel any type of malevolence coming from Mr Li, but was still uncomfortable taking such a large amount of money. There was still a small sliver of possibility that this store owner was connected to some shady business. His offer really did sound too generous to Cid. He felt that the best and safest option would be to just refuse. Cid: I''m sorry, Mr Li. I just dont feel very comfortable taking so much money from someone I just met. John: Are you sure? Its really no trouble. Cid: I''m very sure about it. John: Hmm. If you''re sure. I just hate the thought of someone who wants to go to school being denied. When do you need this money for school? Cid: Please, dont worry about me. I still have a month before I run out of money. Hopefully, by then I will have figured something out. John: Ok. How about this, I know we just met and you dont feel comfortable with my charity, so instead, how about I get you in contact with someone else that can help you. Cid: You know someone who can help me? Who are they? John: Just one of my regulars. She is a researcher and quite well off. Last time she visited, she told me she was looking for an assistant. I can explain your situation to her and I''m sure I can get you the job. It would definitely pay a lot more than many other jobs This is too good to be true. Cid thought to himself. He wasnt sure what to make of the offer, but it sounded a lot more reasonable than just receiving a lump sum of money. He may have been more apprehensive if the job was a bit more questionable, but a research assistant sounded like a respectable job to Cid. Cid: If that is true, I would be extremely grateful! He said excitedly. John: Ha ha. Now don''t be too excited. I have to talk to her first, but she is a kind person and I''m sure shell be willing to help. Let''s exchange contact information then I''ll give you a call when I have something. John pulled out a pen paper and then they exchanged phone numbers. Cid had a big smile on his face for the next hour. For the first time in a long time, things seemed to be going good for him. He accidentally stumbled upon this strange store and received some pretty helpful advice, and maybe a long term solution to his finances. Cid continued to chat with John for some time about miscellaneous things, while enjoying the beverage and food provided to him. They talked about philosophy, the general state of the world, Cids experience at college, and each other''s past. Through this conversation Cid discovered that John had been operating this business for many years now, and he had came from an extremely wealthy family. Unfortunately, his family died tragically. He inherited his family fortune and hid away from the world, secretly opening up this store. The store was just a front to help him hide away. Ever since he opened up shop, he has dedicated his time and money into helping people, in memory of his dead family. It really sounded like a beautiful thing to do, Cid believed. Through these conversations Cid really felt like he got to know a lot about Mr Li. He felt guilty for suspecting anything malicious of Mr Li. He was a little strange for sure, but he seemed like a genuinely kind person to Cid. Their conversation was interrupted by the ringing of an old grandfather clock off to the side. It rang 12 times, signaling that it was midnight. Cids eyes widened when he realized how late it was getting. Cid: Oh shit, I didnt notice how late it was. I need to get back to my dorm. He said as he picked himself up to leave. Cid: Before I go, I just wanted to thank you again for everything. You really helped me out. John: Dont mention it. Oh, before you go, dont forget to take your book. Cid: Book? He said confusingly. John held within his hand the book that Cid had picked up. It was when he walked towards the back of the store to confront John that he grabbed it. The book in question was a self-help book called Improving the Mind. Cid himself couldnt even remember why he originally grabbed that book. Cid: Oh, that''s ok. I dont think I need it. John: If you are worried about money you can have this for free. Cid: Well I don''t even remember why I even picked it up in the first place. Besides, you gave me all the advice I think I need. John: Nonsense, there is always more to learn and more advice to hear. Besides, you strike me as a person who overthinks things, and books like these often contain techniques for meditation, which I think would be helpful for you. He then tossed the book towards Cid. As he caught the book, he thought that the letters on the cover shifted into strange symbols for a brief moment. He just assumed it was a trick of the light, chalking that oddity up to being late and tired. Cid: You really dont have to. John: "Just take it. When your mind starts overthinking things, practice some of the meditation techniques in that book and empty out your mind. Trust me. Meditation can reduce your stress and open yourself up to new perspectives and possibilities. Its just an all-around good thing to be doing." Cid: Sigh. If you really insist. Anyways, thanks again for everything. John: Take care. He said while waving Cid farewell. ?????????????????? Cid exited the store onto the street. It was very dark outside. It would have been pitch black at this time, if not for the street lights. He then heard a rumble of thunder that was then followed by rain. Cid: Shit, he said, as he ran under the cover of another store''s canopy. Just when he thought that his luck was improving, this happened. It wasn''t too heavy a rain, but the walk to his dorm was far from here. He''d be completely soaked by the time he got there. He decided to wait a little. Cid hoped that it would be quick and stop in a little bit. He could have gone back into Mr Li store to wait out the rain, but he had said his goodbyes and felt a little embarrassed in doing so. Thus he decided to wait under the canopy until the rain would stop. Even with the rain, Cid was feeling hopeful. He may have solved his financial problem and would finally start living for himself, instead of others expectations. Most of all, he was just happy to have made a friend. During his arcane pursuit, he had abandoned his friendships. Believing that they would impede his growth, but the reality was that he really needed them. He needed someone to help set him on the right path. If he had someone he could talk to, he would never have considered his terrible redlight idea. It was truly a blessing to meet Mr Li. Some minutes went by, but the rain did not cease. He was beginning to wonder if he should brave the weather or not. Cid then remembered the book he had received from Mr Li. He could just do some quick reading while he waited. He pulled out the book in the dim streetlight and noticed it looked different. It was a simple paperback book when he first got it, but now it was bound in black leather and the title of the book was in an unknown language. Something about the mysterious language slightly disturbed him. Cid: What in the world? he said, confusingly. He wondered what was going on with this book. It was a very strange and unnatural thing. His mind began to race with possibilities of what this tome is, and of what secrets laid in its pages. Cid absentmindedly opened the book without any thought or consideration of what he was doing. The content of the book was written in that same unsettling language as the cover. He flipped through the pages for a while before he stopped himself. What am I doing? he thought while pausing. Something was compelling him to do this. To take these actions without reason. It was just like when he first grabbed the book back in the store. Something was controlling his actions, but that wasn''t entirely right. He consciously knew what he was doing, but not why. He didnt have time to process the peculiarities of the situation, before a black clawed hand reached out from the pages of the book, grabbing Cids face. Cid wanted to scream, but was paralyzed and couldn''t move a muscle. There was no one else on the street to see him in distress. He was completely at the mercy of the entity in the book. The hand itself looked like a shadow of a monstrous creature of enormous strength. The limb grew in size until its hand enveloped Cid''s entire head. Please. Anyone, save me! He could only express through his mind. Darkness overcame his vision. There was no sound, no light, no motion, just darkness. He didnt feel any pain, but he couldnt feel anything else. It was quiet and he was left to his own thoughts. Where am I? What was that creature? What was that book? Why is this happening to me? Wait, am I dead? these ideas raced through his head, but there were no answers given to his questions. A strange sensation overcame Cid. A feeling of something alien worming into his mind, something that did not belong there. His thoughts were no longer becoming his own. He couldnt tell what was happening to himself anymore, until he suddenly did. Realization washed over Cid. It all made sense. There was a pattern and he was a part of it. He could see it, and even more so, he could predict it. He could utilize his numerology magic to decipher it and control it. In doing so he would finally find his place in it all. Cid opened his eyes. He was still standing under the canopy alone and the rain had stopped for now. He had a big twisted smile on his face. The eerie black book was still in his hands. He flipped through some more pages before closing it. There was no more confusion in his face at the alien language of the book, only recognition. He was no longer the same person, yet he didnt change, he just became more. He prepared to leave and head back to his dorm, acting as if nothing had happened. But before he could leave, hollowed tapping sound that echoed throughout the street. It took Cid a minute to realize that it was the sound of footsteps, specifically heels on stone. Cid looked down the street to see a person walking towards him. After the experience he just had, Cid believed that there was nothing in this world that could scare him, and yet, his face turned pale at the approach of this individual. There were still terrifying things that existed in this world. Chapter 3 - Dreams of the Past Cid had left, leaving John in the solitude of his own store. John was feeling ecstatic. John: Feels good to be able to help people. He had felt such pity for the boy that had walked in when he was told of his circumstance, but was glad that he could provide him with a good solution to his education. The advice he had given also seemed to have a positive impact on the boy. It wasn''t always that easy. Sometimes no matter what John said or did it wouldn''t be enough, but this time it went well. Regardless, John felt that he would be seeing Cid again, but not as a troubled customer but as a friend. It had taken years, but he finally thought he got the hang of it. When he first started he was so nervous about it. He was afraid of giving these people bad advice and making their lives worse, but it turned out mostly ok in the end. He was glad that this was the path he had chosen. There were so many other options he could have chosen at the time, rather than using this place to help people. He absently wondered what this place would have become if he had chosen another path. John: Cant believe it''s been almost twenty years. So many things have happened since that day. He started to reminisce about the time he first came to this world. ?????????????????? -Twenty years ago.- The rumbling of thunder disturbed John''s sleep. He began to stir from under the cover of his bed sheets for a minute before he crawled out. He then got out of the bed and stood up groggily and went through his morning motions. John was not a morning person. He had a morning ritual where he would head to the bathroom and relieve himself, then crawl back into his bed for another twenty minutes before waking up properly. He walked towards the door of his room with his eyes half closed. Reaching his hand out, he was met with a wall where there should have been a door. This broke John''s usual pattern and brought him out of his half asleep state. His vision began to clear as he rubbed his eyes. Looking around, the door was on the opposite side of the room where it normally was. In fact this wasn''t even his own room, it was somewhere else. The room was completely bare, except for the bed he slept in and a window. Curiously, he approached the window to get a better sense of where he was. Looking outside from the second floor, he was met with the sight of densely packed Victorian style buildings. Many of them looked a little dilapidated or abandoned. This sight was a far cry from the normal trees and fields of his countryside family home. John was perplexed at the situation. He didnt know how he got here, or even where here was. The buildings and interior looked like something you would find in older parts of England. It didn''t look like anything you would have found in the towns and cities near his home. He wasn''t sure how he got here, then it dawned on him. The ritual, the voice, the pain, and then nothing. He would have assumed it to be a terrible nightmare when he woke up, but was it, or did it really happen? If it did happen, why was he here? John shook his head. He was sure that it was just a dream and this was Rick''s attempt at eroding his own sanity. The question still remained, where was he? Pondering that, he heard the door creak and slightly open. He looked towards the door with fear that Rick had come to torment him, but there was no one there. John then nervously approached the door and opened it completely. Just like before there was no one there, just an empty hallway. He wondered who could have opened this door, it had a latch and couldn''t be opened without someone turning the door knob. Looking into the hallways he could see a few more closed doors and some stairs leading down. The hallway was empty. It was just as bare as the room he was standing in. He walked into the hallway opening doors as he went towards the stairs. All the rooms he opened were empty and bare. John was beginning to wonder if this entire building was empty. He reached the stairwell and headed down. The stairs led him to a large room with a few wooden support pillars near the center. Beyond the pillars there was a door leading outside with large display windows on both sides of it. Just like the other rooms, this space was empty. John headed towards the door and stuck his head outside. It was still raining. The street was completely abandoned and he was sure that most of the buildings around were as well. He didnt realize how run down everything was when he first looked, but now being outside he could better see the state of disrepair. Cracks in the wall, cracks on the windows, rotten doors that looked like they would fall off their hinges, garbage in the middle of the street. It really was an old town that had been abandoned, except for the building John came out of. The building he woke up in was in pristine condition. The contrast with the surrounding attached buildings was quite stark. It looked as though someone was maintaining the building, but who? There was no one here when he woke up. The wind and rain picked up and sent a chill through John. He immediately headed back inside. Once inside he closed the front door, and as he did, a loud roar of thunder vibrated through the air and buildings. It was the loudest John had ever heard. All of this made John feel anxious. This may have been the largest thunderstorm he experienced in his life, and he was experiencing it in an unknown place. Another roar of thunder, even louder than last, followed by a blinding flash of lightning. It was overwhelming for John, so much so he closed his eyes and covered his ears in response. More thunder and lightning followed non-stop for straight minutes on end. Eventually everything calmed down, for now. He removed his hands from his head and opened his eyes. When he did, he was met with the sight of a thing standing in the middle of the room. John couldn''t describe very well what it was. It was a person, but also a monster, but also neither? Its form was like black smoke, constantly shifting and never completely settling on a solid shape. What felt like an eternity went by. Eventually the black twisting thing collated into a vaguely humanoid shape with two glowing dots for eyes. John thought it was looking at him, but he couldn''t be sure. It was so alien to him he couldn''t tell if it was friend or foe. John didnt feel any fear towards this entity at this moment, and he didnt know why. He thought that there should have been some level of fear, but there was none. Both John and the thing continued to stare at each other for minutes. The entity tilted its head slightly and then spoke. The Thing: Are you OK? Was the trip difficult? It said in an inhuman voice. There was a mixture of relief and horror at the situation. Relief that this awkward staring contest that was going on between them came to an end, and horror at the fact that this thing could speak. John swallowed his saliva and attempted to regain his composure. He somehow felt that running and screaming was pointless and tried to think rationally about his situation. The thing in front of him was beyond anything hes ever seen, but its voice carried some familiarity for John. It then dawned on him, it was the same voice he heard in his basement before he John: Are you the one I heard in the dark? The one that spoke to me. Another awkward silence was followed by that query. John started to become even more nervous, worried that maybe he''d upset the thing somehow. It then spoke again. The Thing: There is no one thing that spoke to you. So yes and no? The thing was speaking in such vagueness that John didnt really understand, but he now knew that it was amenable to some questioning. He decided to seize the opportunity to find out more about what was going on. John: Does me being here have something to do with the ritual I performed before? The Thing: Yesssss It said as its voice and speech pattern changed, emphasizing its s more. The sudden change unnerved John a little, but he pressed on. John: Does that also mean I''m dead? Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. The Thing: Yesssss and no. John: I dont understand. What do you mean by that?" The Thing: A deal wassss ssstruck. Your life for the life of thosssse you love. Fate wassss changed and thosssse who change it are not allowed to exisssst. John pondered what he had heard. He interpreted its words as his own existence was somehow undone. Never to get fired, never to meet Lisa or Rick, never to grow up, never to have even been born. It left John feeling a little hollow about everything. Could the life and love he had experienced be so easily erased. No,'''' he thought. The fact that his family may be alive now and that he was standing here denied such ideas. John: If thats true, how am I here? The entity tilted its head slightly again. A chill ran through John''s spine, as he could somehow tell that this thing was somehow smiling. The Thing: Because you belong to us now, John, and we could never allow your existence to end. It said as its voice and speech pattern changed again, sounding like the voice of multiple people speaking in unison. There was another rumble of thunder followed by a flash of lightning. The chill he felt turned into a cold sweat. It was worse than he thought. He believed that exchanging his life simply meant he would die, but instead it made him a slave to a horror from nightmares. The realization paralyzed John. He could only look down at the ground, away from the thing, as sweat dripped off his nose. He was now trapped in a situation with something that was so much worse than Rick or Lisa. The Thing: Dont be scared John. We will never hurt you, not like the people from your last life. John: How do I know you are telling the truth? The people I knew before said the same thing, and I take it you know what happened after that. He said as his whole body started to shake. The Thing: We never lie, especially not to you. It said in a more normal masculine tone. John looked up at the thing, curious about the change of voice. Instead of the black twisting monstrosity, there was a well dressed elderly man. The elderly man had red eyes and gray hair that was pulled back into a ponytail. He sported a cane with a silver skull for its pommel, and wore a red tie with a black elegant suit that would denote wealth to any person who saw it. John: What are you? The Thing: Undefined is what we are. Would you like to define us? John: I dont understand what you''re saying. The Thing: Give us a name, so that we can have a morenormal conversation. It said as the tone of its voice fluctuated between something human and inhuman. John quickly ran through his head any possible name he could conjure up. He was a poor namer, but wanted more straight answers from this thing, so he needed to come up with one. He needed a name that wouldnt upset this creature. He thought about how this creature appeared out of the darkness and how at times it looked like a twisting orb of darkness, so a name associated with darkness, or the absence of color, black. What was black in color? Then one word popped into John''s head. John: Onyx. Is that name acceptable? The thing seemed happy and tapped the ground with its cane in excitement. Onyx: Yes! Excellent! A fine name indeed. This individual will now be known as Onyx. He said with excitement. The atmosphere in the room suddenly changed. This was beyond confusing for John. The unnerving atmosphere, the disturbing voice, the feelings of insignificance and fear were all gone. It was like that thing was never here, and all that remained was an old gentleman. However, John knew better. Below the surface of the appearance of an elderly gentleman, lies an indescribable horror. It left him baffled as he absentmindedly blurted out the same question as before. John: What are you? Onyx: This one is now known as Onyx. The name you gave me, remember. Yet, I now understand that''s not what you meant, is it?" He said in a deep and calm voice. John just absent mindlessly nodded his head. Onyx: Honestly, Im not sure what I am either. Human language doesnt seem capable of properly describing what I am. All you need to know is Im not a threat to you. I am here only to help and guide you. John: Guide? What are you guiding me to? Onyx: It all has to do with the contract you agreed to. John: Right the contract. This is what everything is about. John was coming to slow acceptance of what was happening to him, but there was still something he needed to know. John: Before we talk more about that, can you let me see my family one last time? Onyx: Ive already told you. They exist in a place where youre not allowed to exist. John: I dont need to meet them. I just want to see if they''re all right. Please, can I be allowed that much. Onyx stared at John with his expression unchanged. A moment passed before he tapped his cane on the ground, and as he did the sound of shattering glass could be heard. Cracks appeared in the space beside Onyx. It was like the air itself had turned into glass. Large shards of what John could only describe as reality fell to the ground and shattered into nothing. In its place was a hole through time and space. Peering into it, John could see his family dressed in black and gathered around a coffin, he couldnt hear them, but he could clearly see various members weeping. John: Is that a funeral? Who died? Onyx: You of course. John: I thought that you said my existence was undone. Onyx: We did. Your existence ended and a husk was left behind for those to mourn over. John: "I was thinking that your words had more meaning than that." Onyx: How so? John: I thought you made it so that I was never born. Erased from time. Onyx: Hmm. You have an interesting imagination, which is good. It will be helpful for the task at hand. He said as he waved his hand and the hole in space collapsed in on itself and disappeared. John took some solace in the knowledge that his family was safe and alive, as he prepared for what that monster was going to make him do. Onyx: Now then, just like how you defined me, you must now define this space. He said while gesturing to the building they were standing in. John: Umm, you want me to give this building a name? Onyx: "Yes, and to determine its function." John: What do you mean? Onyx: What do you want this place to be used for? It can be a place to store forbidden knowledge, a place to conduct experiments, or simply a place for you to live. The choice is yours. John swallowed his saliva and thought for a while, processing what he''d just heard. Is it really so simple? John thought to himself. John wasn''t sure if Onyx was being completely honest. It wasn''t that he thought Onyx was lying, but he was leaving details out. However, John knew he had to do as he was told. John: So it can be anything? Onyx: Anything you want. John: Anything I want. John began to reminisce. What do I want? He quietly thought to himself. He was at a loss, for the longest time he was robbed of his autonomy and couldn''t make any meaningful decisions for himself. This was the first time he could decide for himself in a long time, and he didnt know what to do. If he thought about what he truly wanted, it would be to go home to his family and put this behind him, but that was not an option for him. When John thought back to those dark days, what he wanted at that time was somebody anybody, to help him. He wanted someone to stop the beating, someone to help him when he wasn''t well, someone he could trust. Maybe if that nightmare was to play out again for someone else, I could be that someone. John thought to himself. John: Then can this place be used to help people. He spoke with new conviction. Onyx: If you so desire, but you might want to be more specific. John: I want to help the desperate people who have nowhere else to go. Those who are suffering and have no one to turn to. Onyx: Just like you when you called us. He said with a smile. John swallowed his saliva nervously. John: Yes, but without the whole dying thing. Onyx: Of course, but keep in mind, human beings are fickle creatures and in the waking world there are no guarantees. Which means there will be some that you wont be able to help. John: Even so, I should at least try. Onyx: Then this shall become a place to help the desperate few, those that are at the right place at the right time to receive your assistance and guidance. In hopes that maybe they can receive deliverance. Now that this place has a purpose, what is to be the name of this store that sells salvation. Its a store? John thought confusingly. John guessed he had been too abstract with describing the purpose of this place, and somehow it ended up as a store. It was not what he exactly had in mind, but decided not to argue with the nightmare monster. John pondered for a little while. He felt like he wanted some sort of name that reflected his current circumstance. Something that felt mysterious.. ?????????????????? -Current day at the Mystic Emporium.- The ring of the store bell brought John out of his daydream. When he looked up he was met with absolute beauty walking into the store. She wore a black leather corset with a white shirt underneath that covered her shoulders and accentuated her large bosom. At her waist was a black and red lace skirt that fell just between her knees and ankles. The black high heels she wore completely wrapped around her ankles tightly in black leather that went up into her dress. On her neck was a red scarf that complemented her striking red eyes and hair, while her hair was tied up into a bun. She looked at John sitting at his usual table and smiled. Mysterious woman: "Mr Li, Its good to see you again." John: "What a wonderful coincidence. I was just thinking about calling you." Chapter 4 - The Scarlett Witch
Five minutes ago. Outside the Mystic Emporium Cid was frozen in fear. In the world there are two unique categories of mages, black mages and white mages. This categorization does not necessarily intricate a practice of any special type of magic, but how mages utilize their magic in relationship with social norms and laws. To be labeled as a black mage is the same as being labeled as a criminal. Someone who uses their magic to hurt and murder people, or use forbidden magic. Without a doubt in Cid''s mind, black mages are the most vicious and dangerous people in the world. People that needed to be avoided at all costs. So how did he end up in this situation? Alexandria Scarlett, also known as the Scarlet Witch in other places, is one of the most infamous black mages in recent years. She is wanted in over a dozen countries, and is famous for burning her victims alive, and right now she was walking towards Cid. He was sure it was her. Cid had done a class on black mages and remembered seeing her face during a lecture. Her magic abilities were said to be on par with that of an archmage when using pyromancy. Cid was nervously sweating. The new knowledge he acquired could help in a fight, but it would still pale in comparison to the power of an actual archmage. His only option was to run, but he was doubtful he could actually get away from someone of that level. What do I do? I cant die like this. Maybe I could create a distraction and use that to get away. Cid was contemplating a way to survive this situation. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didnt realize that the Scarlet Witch was already standing right in front of him. She stood a little taller than Cid and looked down at him with piercing red eyes with a smirk. Is this what it feels like to be stared at by a predator? Cid thought frozen in fear. She just stared at Cid, like she was a cat about to play with her food. Her red eyes shifted from his face to the book he was holding. Her smirk broadened into a bigger smile upon seeing the tome Cid was holding. Scarlett: Hmm. A fellow patron I see. How fortuitous a day that we are to meet. Cid was amazed. He couldnt believe he was still alive and not burned into cinders. She was just talking to him right now. He noted she called him a fellow patron, Cid wondered if she had mistaken him for a fellow member of a cult. Its not uncommon for black mages to also be members of cults. This would be no exception for someone as infamous as Scarlett, but despite her fame, there was no record Cid could recall that mentioned about any cult she was involved with. This was not to say she wasn''t a part of a cult, but that information was not public knowledge. Cid knew far too little about the cults of the nameless gods, and that was the information he most desperately needed right now. He needed to keep pretending to be a member of the same cult as her to avoid a fiery death. His only hope was to try and be as vague as possible, so as not to give away that he wasn''t part of any cult. Cid: Um yes. Nice to meet you too, fellow compatriot. Her smile and composure remained unchanged, as she leaned in closer to Cid''s face. Scarlett: My my. So nervous. You must be relatively new. Cid: Uh yes. I just joined recently. Scarlett: Join? You dont join. You are chosen. SHIIIIIIIT!! I already fucked up and barely said anything! Why didnt I take those classes on cults! Cid thought to himself in panic. Cid: Um yeah no. Sorry I meant Scarlett: "Right now you''re wishing you knew more about me, and you''re trying in vain to hide your lack of knowledge while you panic." Oh shit. She can read my mind. I''m so dead Cid thought in complete resignation. Scarlett: "And no. I cant read your mind. You''re just so easy to read. You were giving off such an air of guttural fear when you saw me. I can only assume that fear stems from my reputation. After all, people in terror will assume and say anything to save themselves." Cid: If you''re going to kill me just get it over with. I''m done being played with. He said resigning himself to his fate. Scarlett: Oh. The boy is growing a spine. However, you may think I''m going to burn you alive, but I don''t harm fellow patrons. Cid: Why are you assuming I am part of your cult? Scarlett: The better question is, why are you making assumptions about me. She said as she backed away from Cid." Cid: If you''re not talking about a cult, then what are you talking about? The Scarlet Witch ignored his question as she just stared longingly past Cid. He looked to see where she was staring at. She was looking directly at the Mystic Emporium Does she know Mr Li? Wait, when she called me a fellow patron was she referring to that store? Cid thought to himself. Cid: Do you know Mr Li? Scarlett: Oh ho. The boy has figured it out. Cid: How do you know him? Scarlett: Like I said, we''re fellow patrons of Mr Li. I came today to ask Mr Li if he found me a lab assistant, and it seems my prayers have been answered. Cid: What are you talking about Before Cid could say anything, a ball of flame burst forth from Scarlett''s hand before extinguishing itself, revealing what looked to be something like a business card. Scarlett: Meet me at this address in a week, and I will not take no for an answer. She said as she handed Cid the card. Cid: Wha??? Cid''s mind went blank. There was too much happening to him at once. One of the most wanted criminals in the world, Alexandria Scarlett, appeared out of nowhere and has some relationship with Mr Li, and was forcing him to become a lab assistant. Wait. Did she say lab assistant? Didnt Mr Li say he could get me work as a lab assistant? You dont think Cid silently thought while Scarlett walked right by him and entered Mr Li''s store. Left alone, Cid just stared at the front door of the Mystic Emporium for a long time before he looked at the card he was given. The card had an address and a meeting time on it. The location in question was some sort of teahouse. He stared back at Mr Li''s store and let his mind wander further.What in the world did I get involved with? I knew that Mr Li was beyond my understanding, but to be involved with the Scarlet Witch herself. There was no doubt in Cids mind that the lab assistant job he heard about from Mr Li was her. Can I really work for someone like that? She didn''t seem to want to hurt me, but was that true? Cid pondered to himself. The crimes of the Scarlet Witch were numerous. Arson and murder being the most egregious with a body count that made Cid shudder. Her actions in those cases were not the actions of a human, but a monster. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Cid: A monster huh Cid stared at the book that he received from Mr Li. He recalled the truth it had revealed about the world, and where he fit in it. The knowledge he gained had saved him, and it was knowledge that Mr Li had given him. Cid: "Ahh whatever. I''ll just trust Mr Li." Cid had just given up on thinking about it. He was going to follow Mr Li''s advice and try to stop overthinking things and go with the flow. Cid pocketed the business card and proceeded to walk towards the college. She had red eyes too. I wonder if they are related somehow? Cid pondered as he headed back to the dorm. ?????????????????? The familiar ringing sound of a bell echoed through the store, as Scarlett opened the door. She must have heard that sound a thousand times already. Sitting behind his usual table was her dear benefactor, John Li. He then looked up to notice Scarlett. Scarlett: Mr Li, Its good to see you again. John: What a wonderful coincidence. I was just thinking about calling you. The comment he made was innocuous, but she knew better. She believed that John Li was an ancient creature beyond simple human concepts. She understood that he was coy and masked the true meaning of his words. Any comment he made had more significant meaning than most would realize. Through those conversations and strange happenings, Scarlett created a hypothesis a while ago. John Li was capable of manipulating fate. What were the chances that the same day she went to John to ask about a lab assistant she would meet a fellow patron. In all the years she had known John, she had never run into another patron while visiting him. There were too many strange happenings to be a coincidence. Trying to infer deeper meaning by using that hypothesis, Scarlett concluded that the wonderful coincidence John spoke of was probably not a coincidence, and he was saying in a coy way, he manipulated fate for her to be here and to meet that boy. Him mentioning about contacting her was indication in her mind that it probably was the case. The calling her was probably that feeling she got earlier today, where she just felt like visiting John. To manipulate fate just to talk to me. It could have been almost romantic, if it was anyone else. Scarlett thought to herself silently. Scarlett: It''s good to see you too. It feels like forever since we talked. John: It really does. Have a seat and let''s have a quick chat. He said as he gestured towards the chair opposite of him. Scarlett seated herself in front of John. While she was doing that, John had produced a pot of her favorite tea from behind the table. She had seen him do that before, but it never stopped her from wondering how he was able to manifest objects just out of sight, especially without creating any aether fluctuation. John: So what brought you here today. He said as he poured a cup of tea for Scarlett. Scarlett smirked a bit at the question. She believed that this was Johns act. That he knew exactly what brought her here, but liked to pretend to be a normal clueless person. This was something that she and all his customers would ultimately go along with and entertain. It was not something she understood why he liked to do this, but figured that it was not her role to question such a powerful being. Scarlett: Hmm. Well I just felt like visiting you today. She said with a smile while sipping her tea. Just like how she believes everything John says had double meaning, Scarlett would do the same. Her words were to convey that she was answering John''s manipulation of fate. John: Is that so? Well that is flattering, but next time could you visit me earlier. I was about to close up shop for the night. Hmm. It sounds like hes disappointed in me that I took so long to come here. The next time I get a feeling to visit John, I will have to assume its him manipulating destiny and go right away. She quietly thought to herself. Scarlett: I''m sorry I came so late. I got lost in my research and forgot about the time. John: No worries. I just would hate for you to travel all the way to my store and be unavailable for you. After all, I know you live outside the city and it''s quite a distance to get here. That''s an understatement. She thought to herself. Scarlett actually lived in the Wildland in the far north, thousands of miles from here. It was not an easy task to travel from her compound to Graheel. She had to set up a secret teleportation network to get to Graheel, otherwise the trip would take her weeks. She thought that John''s comments were him being coy. This however, was something John didnt know. He just assumed from previous conversations they had, she lived just outside the city boundaries. Scarlett: Thank you for your concern. Ill keep this in mind. You said you wanted to get a hold of me. She said, trying to steer the conversation. John: Oh yes. Remember when you told me you were looking for an assistant. Well, I think I found someone. Scarlett: Oh, really? She said with a smirk. John began to tell her about Cid and his situation, while Scarlett nodded along. Scarlett knew she had already met the person John was talking about, but that was the game. She needed to put on an act of being a simple researcher and ignorant of all this, going through these conversations and pretending to be unaware. The consequence of not doing so would be severe. Eventually John finished his explanation and looked at Scarlett expectantly. Scarlett: So he needs money to finish his education. Is that right? John: Correct. He didnt feel comfortable taking my charity, so I told him I would ask you about that research assistant job. Scarlett: You told him about me? John: Well, not directly. I just told him I knew someone looking for a research assistant. I didnt reveal your name or anything. So don''t worry, I didnt break our promise. I know you''re trying to keep a low profile. It was a promise they made many years ago. At the time she was weak and couldnt defend herself. She needed to hide back then, but now its different. The Scarlett of today would have not cared if John had revealed her identity, especially if it was to another fellow patron. Scarlett: I see. Thank you for that. Well, if you feel like he can be trusted, I can take him on as an assistant. The truth was that even if Cid was not the assistance John promised her, she would still try to subordinate him if possible. Those who received John''s guidance were more valuable than gold and excellent allies to have. John: Excellent. Here is his contact information. He said as he handed her Cids phone number. Scarlett: It is a shame though that he wishes to receive education from that place. She said as she took the paper with Cid''s contact information. John: Really? I wouldnt have expected such a learned woman to disapprove of seeking education. Scarlett: Seeking knowledge isn''t the problem, its the institution. Lets just say I have some problems with the way the college does things, and leave it at that. John nodded his head in response. Scarlett was betrayed by the people who worked at the college long ago, and they have been a thorn in her side ever since. They were all liars and cheats that would do anything for power. Knowing the kind of people there, she was a little concerned about having Cid so close to that place, but she trusted John, so she didnt say anything about it. Yet again, John did not know this. He assumed that she disapproved of the way they teach their students. In his original world, schools focus more on students'' GPA rather than teaching them useful life skills. An issue he agreed that needed correcting. He assumed it was a similar situation in this world, so he was sympathetic. John: I understand. I do hope you can teach the kid a thing or two while he works under you, to fill in the gaps of his education. Scarlett was surprised by the statement. The meaning behind his words was undeniable in her mind. He wanted her to take Cid on as a full blown disciple, not just a simple helper. The first time in a long time since meeting John, she felt apprehensive. She had thought she would never take on another student in her life, but now John was asking her to do so. She wasnt even sure if she was ready, but it was a request from John and she would never refuse him. How cruel. Asking Me to take on a disciple when he knows how painful that is for me. Although, it has been a long time since that day. Maybe this is John''s way of helping me move past this. She thought to herself. Scarlett stared blankly at the table for a few seconds before responding. Scarlett: Um yes. Ill be so sure to whip him into shape the next time you see him. John: Hahaha. Dont be too hard on the poor boy. Anyways, its very late right now and while I wouldve liked to talk more, I need to be closing up shop. He said as he stood up to walk her out. Is this my punishment? She wondered to herself. Scarlett wanted to talk to John more, specifically about her experiments, but was being sent away. She could only guess that it was in relation to her not responding to John''s call earlier. Now he was not willing to even entertain a conversation. In the time that she knew John, they would have semi-regular conversations. During those interactions, she would be telling him about the experiments she was doing, and then he would give her vague suggestions on how to improve them. Sometimes she would be able to grasp the meaning of what he was saying, making great strides in her research, but that was not to happen today it seemed. She was led outside and goodbyes were said. The store closed its door and turned off its lights inside, leaving Scarlett alone on the dim street. As far as punishments go, it could have been worse. He only denied giving me any hints for my experiments. She pondered to herself. Scarlett: Although, maybe this isn''t a punishment, there might be more meaning that I''m just not seeing. Regardless, I probably shouldn''t visit John again until I take Cid fully on as a disciple. Well have to get to know each other more before that, and I''ll have to figure out what to do with him while hes attending that school. She began to walk down the street, contemplating the work that was ahead of her in the coming days. As she was making her way to her hideout, she snapped her finger and a man that was in hiding burst into flames. The man in question was using invisibility magic to stalk Scarlett, but he did not go unnoticed by her. If anyone was here to witness this, it would be a horrifying scene to behold. The man screamed and raved as a sickening smell of burnt flesh and fat filled the street. He rolled on the ground in a desperate attempt to extinguish the fire, but to no avail. During this entire process nothing could be heard. The man was clearly screaming for his life, but there was only silence. Some strange power that Scarlett possessed robbed the man and his surrounding of all sound. Scarlett did not even look at the man as she casually walked away. Eventually the man would stop struggling and collapse. The flames would turn his body and everything he carried to ash. People living in the neighborhood, unaware of what transpired, would wake up in the morning to find a small pile of ash and soot in the middle of the street. Chapter 5 - More Dreams of the Past As John closed up shop he gave out a long sigh. He had finally gotten rid of Scarlett. John felt that Scarlett was a bit of an eccentric, but he didnt dislike that about her. He was more motivated to send her off because it was so late. Scarlett would semi-regularly visit him to talk about her research. John didnt understand exactly what Scarlett''s research was and told her so, but she insisted that the opinion of someone outside her field was helpful. All he knew is it had something to do with archaeology. From the last conversation they had, she was developing a new method to reconstruct corpses, at least he thinks it was. John could see the value in reconstructing ancient corpses for the archaeologist community, and so did what he could to help out. Regardless, those conversations they had went on for hours, and John was not willing to stay up that late to have them. So, he was quick to send Scarlett on her way. John: Geez, these researchers really need to pay more attention to the time. Normal people are sleeping right now. Why did she think my store would still be open at this hour? Well, I guess it''s partly my fault too. He said as he looked at the book he was reading earlier. John had gotten his hands on an interesting fantasy novel and had been reading it voraciously. It was why the store was still open when Cid found it. John himself had lost track of time while he was reading the book, forgetting to close up the shop. John: I guess it still turned out for the best. I would''ve missed Cid if I had closed up my shop earlier, but I don''t want to be making a habit of staying up so late. John could suddenly hear whimpering at the base of the stairs on the main floor. Looking over he could see a large pure white malamute with blue eyes looking at him expectedly. It was his dear pet and companion, Lunar. John: Aww, were you waiting for me? Sorry about that boy. I know you dont like to sleep without me. Ill be sure to take you for a good long walk tomorrow to make up for it, ok? He said as he petted Lunar. Lunar: Woof woof. He barked happily as his tail wagged excitingly at the mention of a walk. John: I can tell you like the sound of that. Ok, let''s go to bed. John turned off the lights and made his way upstairs. Lunar marched ahead of him to John''s bedroom and jumped on the bed waiting for John. Smiling, John gave a quick pat on Lunars head and went through his bedtime routine. John brushed his teeth and changed his clothes before he crawled into his bed. Once in bed, Lunar pushed his body into John''s to get as close as possible to him. John gave another pat and a hug before laying his head down and closing his eyes. What a strange life this has been. John silently thought to himself. John continued to reminisce about the past as he slowly drifted into slumber. ?????????????????? Twenty years ago. When John first arrived in this world. A storm raged outside the soon to be store. Onyx: The Mystic Emporium? You wish to call this place that? The older gentleman said as he stroked his short beard. John: Well no, but you said it has to be a store, so that''s what I''m going with. Onyx: You know it doesn''t have to be a store. It just makes the most sense that this place is a store. John: Why is that? Onyx: All the buildings on the street outside are a series of stores. It wouldnt make sense if this place wasn''t also one. At least, that is the realization I''m coming to now as Onyx. John: How can you tell those are even stores? Most of those buildings out there look abandoned or dilapidated. Onyx: Maybe in time we can fix that if you want, but to your question. They werent always like that. While I don''t think you could call it prosperous, it still was more active and vibrant in the past. Times have changed though, and while many of the stores on this street have closed up, not all of them have. And so, to keep with the theme of this street, I suggest a store. The decision though is still ultimately yours. John felt that explanation he got kinda made sense to him. He could also tell it was becoming much easier to talk to Onyx, despite knowing his true nature. John: I guess that makes sense, but how am I supposed to sell salvation like you mention? Onyx: That it is up to you to figure out. John felt dejected from that response. He wanted to help people that suffered like him, but had no idea where to even begin. He was in a strange place with no idea how he was supposed to support himself, let alone assist other people. Onyx raised an eyebrow. Giving an impression that he knew exactly what John was thinking. Onyx: Do not worry. Everything that you will need will be provided for you. John: Oh, really. I was a little worried there for a moment. Onyx: There is nothing to worry about. We all will be here to help you along the way. John: Youve been saying we for a while now. Who else is there? He said as he shuttered at the thought of more creatures like Onyx. Onyx: Thats hard to explain, so pay it no mind. You have a store to run. John didnt like that answer. He could feel a sense of terrible foreboding from that response. His mind began to race through all the possible horrific things that this creature could be hiding from him. Onyx spoke up before John could put any more thought into the meaning of his words. Onyx: Now then, close your eyes. John: W-what? Onyx: Just trust me. John hesitantly complied. He closed his eyes and waited patiently for a few seconds before onyx spoke again. Onyx: Now if you would please open them again. He really didnt want to. John was afraid what he would witness if he did, but he also knew that it was pointless to refuse to do so. Upon opening his eyes he was greeted with the sight of the same old man that he named Onyx. The old man seemed unchanged, however his surroundings were not. In the few seconds that John had closed his eyes, the empty room became completely furnished. There were display shelves full of various items and a large desk with chairs near the back of the store. He was no longer in the dark either, above his head shined an electrical light fixture along with a bunch of other glass baubles, hanging from the ceiling, refracting and displacing light. Taken in its entirety, it looked like an old rustic antique store. A far cry from the empty abandoned building it was a few seconds ago. It left John feeling amazed. He knew that the entity was truly powerful. It did bring him back to life, but seeing it change the place so drastically in the blink of an eye was still surreal for him. John: How is this possible? Onyx: Would you like to know? I did have you close your eyes for your benefit, but I can show you if you''re truly that curious. He said with a slight sinister grin. John: M-maybe not. He said, frightened. Thinking back to the twisting monstrosity that Onyx appeared as was unnerving. John would have preferred to be ignorant of Onyx''s true nature. He could only take him at his word when he said it was to his benefit. Onyx: Well then. Is it to your liking? If you dont like the design of the interior, it can be changed to something that better suits you. John: There is nothing wrong with the design, but I''m not sure how this helps me. I dont understand how an antique store is supposed to help people like me. Onyx: This is not a simple antique shop, and helping people like yourself is not simple either. The aesthetic is to help get people into the front door, from there you can assess their problem and attempt to fix them. John: Oh, ok. I think I see what you mean. The way the store looks is just to get people in here. So all the items lying around are just props to help the aesthetic. Onyx: The items here are very much real, and not just props. He said as he stroked his beard. Onyx: Human beings are fickle creatures and the way to save them is not always clear. Sometimes it''s just a simple few words of encouragement, other times it''s a more materialistic need. A starving man needs food more than he needs kind words. So, the items are varied in this place, and could be used to help in ways that are not always obvious. If there is a specific item you need or desire, just look around and you will find what you''re looking for. John: Does that also include food and money Onyx: I did say everything would be provided to you, so if that is what you need, that is what you will get. Just look around, I''m sure you will find it. John: Also I meant to ask. Where exactly are we? Are we in some old English town? Onyx: Oh right, you probably dont know. You are in the city of Graheel in another world. John''s eyes widened in surprise and shock. John: R-right you said I was not allowed to exist in that world. Onyx: I did indeed. John: Is there anything else I should know about this place then? The elderly gentleman stroked his short beard for a few seconds, as he pondered John''s question before he spoke again. Onyx: It is a city for scholars and mages. So some of the folk you come across will be of that type. John: When you say mages, you mean like people that can use magic, right? Onyx: People that can manipulate aether, yes. It is quite a trite ability that they do in this world, but its not something you need to worry about. Since you are from another world, you will be unable to perform magic like they do here. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. The childlike fascination that John had for a moment was dashed by Onyxs words. For a brief moment, John had thought that he could learn magic and become a wizard, like in all those fantasy novels he had read. The older man took no notice of John''s disappointment and kept talking. Onyx: Is there anything else you wish to ask for. John: No, I don''t think so. At least for now. Onyx: Good, I shall take my leave now. John: You''re just going to leave like that? Onyx: I will visit you from time to time, but dont worry. I won''t be too far if you need me. He said with a slight sinister grin. John shuddered. That smile reminded John exactly what Onyx is. An indescribable monster wearing human skin. Onyx: Oh right. It can be quite dangerous outside the store, but as long as you remain here you will be safe. To ensure your safety outside this place, I recommend that you search for a companion to protect you. John: Wait, what do you mean John was unable to finish his sentence before Onyx disappeared into the shadows. Leaving him alone and confused in this weird antique looking store. John: He said it was dangerous. What did he mean by that? Thinking about it for a few minutes, he realized that the place he was living in was probably suffering from severe levels of poverty. He knew that such areas were hotbeds for crimes and violence. With that in consideration, Onyxs warning of danger made a little more sense. John: But what did he mean by finding a companion? He said as there was another flash of lightning from outside. Did he expect me to leave this store and find a bodyguard? He wondered. He pondered this for a little while, but couldnt come up with a sensible solution to Onyx''s suggestion. This was another world and John knew nobody, so he didnt know who he could trust. He knew better than to ask just anybody to be his bodyguard, especially if he was asking around for one in such a seedy area. John concluded that with current circumstances he would be safer by himself, and decided to put off finding a guard until he had a better grasp of where he was. His focus then shifted toward the store he was standing in. It was an antique shop, there were no better words to describe it. It was cluttered and many of the items on display looked as though they were from eighteen hundreds america. There was no central theme of the items on display, other than appearing old. The variety on the shelves was varied and random with boxes full of more glassware and metalworks lying about. It was a stark difference from the empty room it was a few minutes ago. This change was not limited to the main floor of the building. Heading upstairs towards where he first woke up, John was greeted with a fully furnished room with a bed and drawers for storing clothing. The other rooms beside his new bed room were also furnished with one of them becoming a bathroom. John''s exploration was interrupted by the sound of his own growling stomach. John: Oh yeah. I just woke up today, so I havent had anything to eat yet, but where is the kitchen? John had explored most of the upstairs area, but there was nothing that resembled a kitchen here. He was a little worried that he would have to explore outside sooner than he wanted, but he recalled a door that was off to the side on the main floor. He made his way back down and entered it. Sure enough, the door led to a kitchen. It had all the appliances and amenities that John would expect of a fully stocked kitchen: sink with running water, fridge, stove and oven, pantry, table and chairs. John then made his way towards the fridge, looking for anything he could eat. Inside was a bunch of raw vegetables and meat, making him a little disappointed. What John really wanted was something he could just grab and eat. The food that was currently in the fridge would take time and effort to prepare into a proper meal, something he didnt want to do right now. I wish there was at least something that I didnt have to prepare. He thought before he closed the fridge door. Almost immediately after the door was closed, he did this weird habit where he saw there was nothing in the fridge he wanted and closed it, only to open the fridge door again and look to see if there was anything else to eat. It was like a strange part of his brain that expected different food would appear if he did this. He knew better, but it was a habit. Looking into the fridge again, the contents were unchanged, but John noticed a carton of milk he missed on his first viewing. He grabbed it and opened it up and sniffed the contents. It still smelled good to him. John: Cool, now I just need to get a bowl and some cereal. He turned around to open up the pantry, but noticed that there was a bowl and a box of cereal on the kitchen table. It made him do a double take. John did not recall there being those things on the table when he first entered this room. Any other time he might have just assumed it was a bad memory, but with recent events, he was not so sure. The conversation with onyx and being whisked off to another world made him a little more paranoid. He then recalled where he was. This store was not normal, it could not be normal. Not from everything that had happened to him and what Onyx had said. Do things just appear out of nowhere in this store? John wondered to himself. John: Anything I need will be provided. He said, echoing Onyxs words. He believed he wasnt too far off with the idea of things appearing from nowhere, but he wasn''t sure how it worked. John recalled how onyx made him close his eyes before. John: It couldn''t be that simple. He said as he closed his eyes to think about. John: I need a spoon for my cereal. He said aloud. Upon opening his eyes he saw a spoon in the bowl on the table, something that was definitely not there before. It was enough to confirm it for John. The cereal, bowl, spoon, and milk all appeared out of nowhere. John then sat down at the table and poured the contents of the milk and cereal into the bowl and began eating. The cereal was a brand that he wasn''t too familiar with, but it was sweet and edible, and that was good enough. He was slowly becoming more numb to his current affairs, so he was able to calmly process the current oddity of the situation. Right now his priority was to understand the limits of this phenomenon. Through the process of eating his meal, John continued to experiment a little more. He made a cup of coffee and a plate of toast with jam appear on the table. He did this while closing his eyes for the coffee then looking away for the toast, both times thinking about what he wanted. He deduced that as soon as he starts to look for something, it will appear just out of his sight. He had no idea why it worked like this, but he at least understood how Onyx meant to provide what he needs. John eventually finished eating and was left unsure how he was to proceed with the rest of the day. He knew that once the storm outside was done he would have to explore the city a little, but Onyx''s warning of danger made him a little apprehensive about leaving. He didnt want to end up in a dangerous situation where he could be hurt or killed. John: If only I had something or someone that could protect me. Wait, he said that I should search for a companion. Does that mean if I search around, I will find someone that can protect me? John didnt know the limits of this weird phenomenon that manifested things he wanted outside of his sight. He just assumed it wouldnt work on living creatures, but there wasn''t any clear indication that he couldnt. And he was considering trying. He told me to get a companion. Someone that could protect me like a bodyguard or a guard dog. Dog He solemnly thought. He remembered his dear pet Zu. The husky he had for years when he was back in his old world. It was the same dog that had been murdered to get John to snap. An idea Rick had gotten from a movie, whose effectiveness in breaking John''s mind was undeniable. It was a nightmare for John, and a memory that he actively tried to block out of his mind. Only recalling vague images of the event, which was still enough to bring John to tears. John loved Zu with all his heart. It was his only friend and family during those dark days. John blamed himself for his pet''s death and hated himself for it. He felt like he had allowed his family to die twice when they had killed Zu. Tears ran down John''s face as he thought about Zu. Eventually a minute went by before he regained his composure and he wiped the tears from his face. A thought then went through his head. I had died and that entity had brought me back to life, I wonder if it could do the same for Zu. Onyx had told him he couldn''t ever be where his family was, but maybe his pet would be an exception. He dared not hope, but he had to try. He concentrated real hard on Zu, thinking about wanting to find him. Hoping that he would appear like all those other objects. When he opened his eyes there was no change. His Zu didnt appear out of nowhere like the other things. It was a gut punch to John. He wanted to see Zu so bad. He wanted the dog he carried home in his arms when he was just pup to be here beside him, to know he had at least someone in this world that loved him. It was twice now that John had dared to hope and was immediately met with despair. John began to put away the dishes and cleaned the kitchen, trying to take his mind off what had just happened, when he heard the sound of skittering and objects being moved from the next room. The sounds suddenly stopped, but there was no mistaking it. There was something else in this building. John thought he was the only one here. He wondered if someone had come in through the front door of the store, but the sounds he heard were not something he expected a human to make. John swore he heard some low growling sounds along with everything else and feared it was a wild animal. There were only two doors in the kitchen, one that led to the back outside the building, and the other back into the main room where he heard those sounds. There was brief consideration of fleeing out the back, but Onyx promised John was safe here in this building, and so far he had kept his word on everything he had said to John. Another possibility came to John''s mind. Onyx never denied that there were multiple creatures like him. If Onyx appeared here, what would stop another creature like him from appearing again? The thought made John pale. He really didnt want to see or deal with another creature like that, but he couldn''t deny the possibility thats what it was. If it really was that, John knew that he couldnt run from it. He was bound to those creatures because of the contract he had made with them. John approached the door to the main room of the store and stood in front of it for a minute. He was psyching himself up to prepare for whatever lies beyond that door. Whether it be another human or a nightmare monster, he did not know, but proceeded anyway and slowly opened the door. The store floor looked exactly the same to John. There was nothing notable that John could see, so he cautiously took a few more steps into the room. As he did, John heard heavy panting coming from the stairwell. He looked toward where he heard the sound, and sitting at the base of the stairwell was a pure white Malamute with blue eyes staring at him expectantly. John: Huh? Malamute: "Woof!Woof!" It barked excitedly. The Malamute ran toward John with tail wagging in excitement. It ran circles around John playfully and was clearly excited to see him. John: Whoa! Where''d you come from? It stopped running around, and sat in front of John with its head tilted slightly to the side looking up at him. John: Aww. You''re so adorable. He said as he began to pet it. Johns thoughts began to wonder about the appearance of this dog. He was convinced it was linked to what he was just doing a little while ago. He couldnt believe that it was a coincidence. It also seemed unlikely that the dog just wandered in. It appeared after trying to make Zu appear from nowhere, it was somehow connected, but the dog he was currently petting was not Zu. Zu was not pure white and did not have blue eyes. And while Zu and this dog may both appear as huskies, John knew it wasn''t exactly one. The dog in front of him was far too large to be a regular husky. He had heard of a similar breed called a Malamute that were much bigger than other breeds of huskies, so he figured that''s what it was. Is this the result of trying to use that phenomenon to bring a creature back to life? John wondered to himself. He thought that maybe this place tried to make Zu appear, but couldn''t. So it instead created something that was an approximation of what he wanted. It was a dog and a breed that was close to what Zu was. That was the best that this place could do. This event was starting to make John question more on how this place was making these things appear. Was it creating them, or was it taking them from somewhere else? There were moral concerns for John depending on the answer. If it was taking things, would that mean he was stealing? If it was creating them, then it wouldn''t be as big a problem, except for living creatures. He believed that when someone chooses to bring life into this world, they should do it with careful consideration, as there are many moral implications in doing so. Unsure of the reality, John resolved himself to at least not ask for any living creature in the future. Regardless of what he thought now, the dog was now here and he was told he needed a guard. He wasn''t sure if this kind of breed made the best guard dog, but figured that it was close enough because he was a very large breed. John: Do you think you can be my guard dog? Malamute: Woof! He barked excitedly. John: Hmm. If you''re going to live here you''re going to need a name. How about Lunar, cause you''re as white as the moon. How does that sound? Lunar: Woof woof the dog barked excitedly again. Clearly happy with its name The dog then jumped at John, putting its front leg on his shoulders and began licking his face. John: N-neg ha ha stop. He said while chuckling He eventually pushed Lunar off himself. John: I guess you''ll be my companion from now on. Lunar: Woof. John: Well, let''s look around a little bit more and try to figure out what I''m supposed to be doing. Through the next week John would be exploring every nook and cranny of this place before eventually flipping the sign on the front of the store to open. ?????????????????? Back in the current day. John''s sleep was disturbed by the feeling of something wet and slimy moving across his face. Opening his eyes, it was Lunar licking him John: Morning to you too boy. He said as he pushed him away. Lunar: Wah Taking a glance at the window of his room and saw that morning light beginning to shine through. John: Looks like its going to be a sunny day. He then went through his morning routine: brushing his teeth, showering, getting dressed, preparing breakfast for him and Lunar. Once he was done with all that, he went to the front and flipped the close sign on the door to open. John grabbed a broom and headed out to sweep the stairs in front of the store, when he noticed a roll of newspaper on the ground and picked it up. Looking at the heading. Disturbance at police headquarters last night. John: Hmm. I wonder what that is about? Chapter 6 - The end of old grief and beginning of new
The night before at Graheel police headquarters. Despite being almost midnight, it was still hectic inside the headquarters. There were people walking around carrying giant folders of paperwork. Rows of police sat at desks, writing a series of never ending reports. Officers were constantly entering and leaving the building, sometimes with people in handcuffs. Graheel was a city that was just as active during the night as it was the day. A reality that was reflected in the local police department. If the city was to never sleep, so too would the cops. In one corner of this large building was an officer, waiting impatiently at his desk. This officer was dressed differently from the others. He wore a long trench coat and a fedora to hide his receding hairline. If one was to take off this person''s coat, they would find suspenders and a holster for a firearm underneath. This man was named Joe, and he was a detective in an investigation unit. Currently, he was waiting for his partner Mike to get done talking with the police chief, while he sat here and thought of the recent happenings. Joe couldn''t believe it. After all this time and effort, the man he was chasing for years just turned himself in. He was so shocked he didnt believe it at the time. He had to get Mike to say it to his face a few times before it sunk in. Joe had been working for so long to find this guy, and just like that, all his work was subverted. If Joe was more invested in advancing his career, he might''ve been more pissed at the wasted effort, but for him this was personal. He wanted to be the one to bring down Rob Anvil. It was his vendetta against him. He was not so brazen as to want to take the law into his own hands, but wanted at least some involvement in Rob''s arrest and sentencing. A sort of revenge against Rob for the people he had murdered. That was why he was waiting at his desk. Joe and his partner were about to be taken off the case, and his partner was talking to the police chief to allow them to stay on. When Rob turned himself in, the chief decided to move the case to another unit. Joe knew it was done out of pettiness. Joe''s relationship with the police chief goes back and forth between good and bad, and right now it was bad. So Mike decided that it would be better if he talked to the chief while Joe waited outside. Joe just sat at his desk, playing with his pen for five minutes when the door to the chief''s office flung open and Mike walked out. Mike was a little younger than Joe and also dressed the same, but didnt wear a fedora. Mike was Joe''s partner in crime and someone he trusted and knew very well. So, he could tell just by Mikes expression that it didnt go well. Joe: It didnt go well, did it? Mike just let out a deep and long sigh. Mike: I got good news and bad news. Joe: Start with the good. Mike: The good news is that the chief will let us be the one to finish the case. Joe: W-wha, t-that''s great. So why ya coming to me with a long face. Mike: The bad news. Were to bring on a new hire. Joe: Oh Cmon Mikey. You know I don''t need anybody else but you on my team. Anybody else would just slow us down, especially if it''s a green horn. Mike: It was either that, or he would pass the case onto someone else. Joe grumbled. Joe: When the fuck did Murdock become such a prick. Mike: It''s probably because you grilled those Gilded Sun students last week. Joe: When the fuck did we start giving preferential treatment to students. Mike: Those students were from a noble family. Joe: Oh, ok. So we''re the bitch of the nobility, gotcha. Mike: Come on man, you really pissed off the chief this time. I heard he got really chewed out by some higher up after that incident. Joe: My point still stands. Mike: Whatever, so we taking on the green horn or not? Joe: Do we have to? Mike: If you wanna get to Rob. Joe mumbled a bunch of profanities under his breath. Joe: Fine. Go tell the chief that we will take on someone. Mike: Already said we would. Joe: Huh. Didn''t feel the need to run that by me first? Mike: No, cause it''s fucking Rob. You do anything to bring that bastard down. Joe: Sigh. you know me too well. Fine, let''s get some info out of Rob, before I have to think about training some snot nose kid. He still in holding, right? Mike; You wanna interrogate Rob right now? Joe: Damn right I do. Mike: Ok. He said with a sigh. Joe picked himself up and he and Mike walked through the police station past a bunch of other police officers. They were making their way out of the office area towards the holding section of the department. On the outside of the headquarters it looked to be just one large building, but it was actually three buildings each with their own facilities. Over the years the police had expanded into the neighboring buildings and repurposed them for their own use, connecting them through skyways and underground paths. Currently both men were walking through one of those skyways towards their destination. The holding area of the department contained many holding cells and interrogation rooms. It was where most of the people arrested in Garheel were held until they could be moved to a more secure prison, or if no one could pay their bail. It was where Rob Anvil was currently being kept. They eventually arrived at the reception of the holding area. There was only one other person in the room when they arrived. It was Betty Parker, another officer in her blue and black uniform typing away on a computer at the reception desk. She was another fellow colleague that Joe would regularly have interactions with and were on friendly terms with. Joe walked up to the front desk and slammed his hand down to get Betty''s attention. The receptionist calmly looked up from her computer towards Joe with her green eyes. Betty: Nice to see you too Joe. So, what can I do for you? Joe: I need an interrogation room with Rob Anvil in it. Betty: No can do. Remember what I said last time. I was specifically told not to let you anywhere near Rob. Joe had tried to interrogate Rob yesterday, but Betty had said the same thing as she was saying now. It was then that Joe had learned that the Chief was attempting to take him off the case. He''d tried to sweet talk Betty into letting him talk to Rob anyway then, but she didnt budge. Joe: Well Its different now. The chief put me back on the case, so ya can let me see Rob now. Betty: Oh, really. She said while raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms while leaning back into her chair. Joe: What, you dont believe me. Betty: Well, I feel like I would hear something from the higher up about that. Joe: We just got done talking about it with him. You can go ask him yourself. Betty: So you want me to walk all the way down to the chief''s office, which is in another building, while you wait here. You, the famous Joe Striker who is known for breaking protocol all the time, will wait here patiently and not try to sneak in Get the fuck out of here Joe. Joe: But, its true. He said defensively. Betty: Everyone knows you will say and do anything to get at Rob. You literally tried to guilt me into letting you see Rob yesterday, so the answer is still no. Mike: Listen Betty, Joe is telling the truth. I just got done talking about it to the chief like fifteen minutes ago. Hes probably filling out the paperwork right now to get us back onto the case, which is why you havent heard anything yet. Betty: For real? She said surprised. Joe: Wait, you''re gonna take Mikey seriously, but not me? Betty: Yeah, because between the two of you, you''re the bullshitter. She said while pointing towards Joe. Mike quickly elbowed into Joes side hard, signaling for him to be quiet. Mike: Listen. I know were technically supposed to wait for the chief to finish filling out the papers, but could you make an exception, please. Betty tapped her fingers on the desk while looking down at her computer. She was carefully considering what to do. Joe and Mike were both holding their breath, waiting for her response. After another minute went by, she picked up a phone at her desk and punched in a code before bringing it up to her ear. Betty: Hello, can you move Rob Anvil to room AA3. Hmm, hes already being interrogated. Can you tell them that they''ve been taken off the case. Yes, you dont need to move him. You can leave him there. Yup, its Joe thats coming. Ok, thanks. She said as she put the phone back onto the receptacle. Mike: Did I hear that right? Someone else is already Interrogating Rob. Betty: Yeah. Lewis and his team I think were put on the case. So, when you meet them please keep Joe from fighting them. Joe: Cmon, I''m not that bad. Mike: Dont worry, I''ll keep him under control. Betty: Good. Hes in room AA2. Betty pressed another button at her desk, and a thick mechanical door beside her desk swung open revealing an elevator. Both the men thanked Betty one last time and got onto the elevator. Once in, Mike pressed the button to the floor they needed to go to and the door slowly closed before them, leaving both men alone together. A few seconds went by before Mike spoke up. Mike: So, whats this about guilting Betty. He said a little annoyed. Joe: Look, I tried complimenting her, but she still wouldn''t budge. So I tried to recount all the victims of Rob to her, to get her angry at him. I guessed she thought I was guilt tripping her. Mike: By the fucking light. Why would you do that? Joe: She wasn''t gonna let me see Rob; I thought if I got her mad at Rob she would let me beat the crap out of him. Mike: Joe! Bettys been a good friend to us and you tried to emotionally manipulate her. Joe: Ok. You''re making it sound a lot worse than it really was. Mike: Am I? Joe grumbled. Joe: Maaaaybe you have a slight point. Mike: What would Jeff say! He yelled. Joe: Dont you dare! He yelled back. They both glared at each other in anger and silence. Jeff was a dear friend to them both. He was once on the same investigation unit as Joe, Mike, and Blake. Everyone called him the goody two shoes of the group. A kind and compassionate person. He would step in to be Joes moral compass from time to time, especially when he was being too aggressive. A role that Mike had to fill now. The sources for Joe''s obsession was due to their friends. Both Blake and Jeff were murdered by Rob. Years ago they were investigating Rob and his gang, the Skull Crushers. A small-time gang that was slowly growing in influence on the south side of Graheel. Joe and his unit had been assigned to investigate them. At some point, Rob and his gang had found out about this. The investigation itself wasn''t even that far along when it was discovered. All Joe and his partners were doing was collecting accounts and rumors about the gang''s activities. It was preliminary work to eventually find evidence and build a case against them in the future. The Skull Crushers were ruthless and wouldn''t stand for what Joe and his friends were doing. One night, both Jeff and Blake had gone out drinking after work. The next day both men had disappeared. Joe and Mike spent the next three days desperately looking for their friends, until their bodies were found. Blake and Jeff''s bodies were discovered in some trash cans in an abandoned alley. There were countless stabbing wounds on their back and their skulls were crushed in. The damage was so severe that they wouldve been unidentifiable, if not for their badges. The act of crushing someone''s skull was something that Rob did to his victims, a calling card. It was a warning that was issued to Joe and the police, not to mess with the Skull Crushers. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Anyone else would''ve been scared, but Joe was just mad at the time. Rather than dissuade Joe or Mike from investigating them, they had caused them to double their efforts. It was no longer about justice for Joe, this was vengeance. Then just like that, Rob disappeared. The Skull Crusher gang without their leader was then forced to disperse. It all happened in less than six months after the death of Joes friends. It was assumed around the police force that he was probably taken out by another rival gang, but Joe didnt accept that narrative. He had a gut feeling that Rob was still out there, so he continued to compile information about him in hopes he would find him. This vendetta has been going on for seven years now. In his mind he needed to get revenge for his friends, or he would never be forgiven. Anytime Blake and Jeff were mentioned, it would upset Joe. It was a reminder of him failing them. Another minute went by with Joe and Mike glaring at each other, before Joe took a deep breath and finally calmed down a little. Joe: Look, I know you''re right. And, youll have plenty of time to chastise me when this is over, but until then, can you hold back? Mike just sighed and nodded slightly. Eventually their elevator stopped and the doors opened. Waiting outside the elevator was a thin skinny man with glasses wearing a white shirt and black tie with a brown folder in hand. Joe: Um, who are you? He said as both Mike and him walked out of the elevator. Steven: My name is Steven. I''m part of Lewiss team. I was sent to do some preliminary questioning of Rob Anvil, but it seems I''ve been taken off the case. Quicker than I expected Mike: Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. Steven: If you''re going to do this back and forth fight with the Chief, dont drag other people in. He said as he pushed the folder into Mike''s hands. Mike: This Is? Steven: The few notes I took while talking to Rob, enjoy. He said as walked by them into the elevator. The Elevator door closes behind Mike and Joe, leaving them alone. Joe: "Did Lewis take on new people? I''ve never seen that guy before." Mike just shrugged. They then made their way down a series of hallways and checkpoints. Standing outside of the hallway of their destination was another guard and colleague they were both familiar with. It was Greg. He was an older, more portly individual that looked to be a few more years from retirement. Both Mike and Joe had countless interactions with him over the years and were friendly enough. Greg: Well, well. If it isn''t Joe Striker. Mike: Hey Greg. Greg: Nice to see you too Mike. Rob''s down there in Room AA2. He said while pointing behind him. If you need anything I''ll be in the break room. Mike: Gotcha. Greg: Also, one more thing. Howd ya get the chief to let you back on this case? Joe: I used my charms on him. He said sarcastically. Why do you care, Greg? Greg: I just heard he was really pissed at you this time, so I''m kinda surprised he let you back on so quickly. Mike: There were some concessions we had to make. Greg: Ooh, do tell. Joe: Dont wanna. Mike: We have to train a new investigator. He said, cutting off Joe. Joe: Mikeyyy. He said annoyed. Greg: Hahahahaha. Of course he would do that. That''s so funny. Joe Striker and a newbie working together. Knowing the chief, he probably wont even let you select who you''re gonna get. Mike: Yeah Its as you say Greg: I dont know if I feel more sorry for Joe, or the newbie. Anyways, I''ll let you boys get to work. He said as he patted Mike''s shoulder and walked away. Joe turned to Mike with a completely dumbfounded expression on his face. Joe: W-we dont get to choose? Mike: I wanna make it clear to you Joe. You really, and I mean really, pissed off chief Murdock this time. Joe: Ugh He grunted as he rubbed his palm into his face. Mike: Well talk about this later. Let''s interrogate Rob for now. Joe: No wait. Let''s get a good look at him from the viewing room first. Mike: Why? Joe: I''m trying to behave, so I gotta psyche myself up first, or I might punch him as soon as I see him. It will also give you some time to look through that pencil pushers notes. He said while pointing to the brown folder in Mike''s hand. Mike: Huh, ok. Sounds good. They both walked a little further down the hallway into the room beside AA2. The room was mostly empty except for a few chairs. It was dark. The only light was what shined in from a window looking into the room beside this one. This was a viewing room. A room for people to discreetly examine a person who was being interrogated. The window was actually a one way mirror that could only be seen through on the side both Joe and Mike were on. Mike grabbed a chair and began reading through the notes he received, while Joe approached the window. Looking through the window, Joe could see the man he had been hunting for years sitting there quietly. In the past, Rob Anvil was a titan of a man with a hard stare. He once stood over six and a half feet tall (1.98 Meters) with rippling muscles from head to toe. The size and strength he''s possessed bordered on the unnatural. People would believe he could crush a man''s skull with his bare hands, just like the rumor said he did. However, that was Rob Anvil of the past. The man that sat here now was a disheveled man of a former hardened criminal, who was once known as the leader of the Skull Crushers. While still tall, he did not exude the strength that he may have had in the past. It had only been seven years since he had gone missing, yet he looked like he had aged fifty since then. His head had become mostly bald with a few strands of gray hair hanging from it. He had become skinny, losing all of his former imposing bulk. Robs skin sagged and looked like it was barely holding on to his body in places, and his eyes had sunken into his skull making him look closer to a skeleton than a human. People who saw this man wouldn''t recognize him as Rob Anvil, but Joe could still tell it was him. He still had his signature tattoo of an intricate crushed human skull that wrapped around his left arm. His facial structure and other tattoos were still the same as it was in the past, and the constant scowl he wore on his face, while slightly softened, was still the same as Joe remembered. Ten minutes had gone by since they entered this viewing room. Mike had finally finished reading the notes and walked up beside Joe, who was still staring at Rob through the window. Mike: Shit. He looks awful. You think he was shooting up? Joe had seen the effect hard drugs had on people, and could only imagine what Rob must have been taking to look like this. Joe: Must be. Have you read anything interesting in those notes? Mike: Not really. He didnt get far before we showed up. Just some basic psych evaluation and whatever he talked to Rob about thats not in these notes. Joe: Anything of note about the psych evaluation. Mike: Nothing on that one either. Only that this Steven guy suspected that Rob was hiding something. Joe: Well thats a given. Why even bother writing that down. In the time that Joe had been working as an investigator, he had never interrogated a criminal that was completely honest with him. They would of course hold back information to either negotiate with, or cover their own asses so other criminals wouldn''t go after them. This was an obvious fact amongst investigators that didnt need to be said. Mike: Yeah. Must be a new hire. So, are you ready to go in yet? Joe: Just give me one more minute. Joe was in the process of swallowing his anger. While Joe came off as brash and a hot head to most people, he could be extremely calm and focused when he needed to. He was the leader of his unit and knew he couldnt be careless with his decisions all the time. He needed to make sure what he did from now to the end of the interrogation was decisive and professional. If he messed up now he might not be able to see it to the end. Mike: Man. Hes really messed up. He said in a softening tone. Joe: Dont be giving this guy any of your sympathies. Remember, he killed Blake and Jeff, our friends. Mike: I know. So good cop bad cop? Joe: You can be the good cop, and by good cop I mean keeping me from beating the shit out of him. Mike: Hey now, dont you even dare. You''re already in enough shit with the chief. Joe: I''m kidding, partially Mike just gave Joe a stern stare. Joe: Trust me. Let me do the talking. I wont lay a finger on him. Kay. Joe took another deep breath and finally focused. The air around changed slightly. He was almost like a slightly different person. Mike took note of Joe''s change of demeanor and relaxed himself. They both exited the viewing room and walked over to AA2. The door was locked up tight with three different locks welded to it. They unlocked each of them and entered the room. The arrival of Joe and Mike brought Rob to an alertness . Joe took a seat at the table across from Rob while Mike stood in the corner watching. Joe: Why if it isn''t the great leader of the Skull Crushers, or should I say former leader. He said sarcastically. Rob gave them a quick glance before groaning. Joe and Rob had met many times in the past. Joe was always bringing in Rob for interrogations back in the day, in hopes that Joe could find enough evidence to put Rob in jail, to Rob''s annoyance. Rob: Of course it had to be you. Joe: Rob, not happy to see me? He said again sarcastically. Rob: Whatever, it doesn''t change anything. I already told you I''ll confess everything. He said with a confidence born out of experience from previous interrogations. Joe: Yeah, that''s what I heard. All in exchange for protection. Joe pulled out a series of documents from his jacket and began flicking through them. Joe: Let''s see. I have you admitting to murder, trafficking drugs, extortion, assault, and theft. That is all correct, right. Rob: Yes. Joe: Why admit this? Rob: You know why. Joe: I want to hear it from your mouth. Rob groaned again. Rob: I pissed a lot of people off who want me dead, and they definitely want me after this. Joe: Yes. Your testimony is going to help us bag a lot of your former buddies, but the question is still why. Rob: I already told you why. He said annoyed. Joe: Rob, word on the street was that you were dead. If you were worried about your former buddies, you could have kept your head down and no one would come after you. So, why? Rob: Maybe I have a guilty conscience. Joe: You and I both know that''s not true. I think you''re doing this cause you''re running from someone else. So, whos chasing you Rob. Rob: You want to know what the last things those two cops said before they died. You know, the same guys that were investigating me. They were part of your investigation unit, right? Joe was swallowing his anger and maintaining a deadpan face. He could see Mike clenching his fist from the corner of his eye. Rob: Officer Blake and the other one. What was his name Joe? I''m having a hard time recalling. I think his name started with a J. Joe: I''m not playing your games Rob. You''re deflecting. If you dont tell me whos after you, I can''t give you protection. Rob: That wasn''t part of our deal. Joe: That deal was made with the last guy, not me. I don''t have to give you anything if I don''t like your answer. Rob just shrugged. Rob: If I''m not guaranteed protection, I won''t testify to any crime. Joe smirked briefly at Rob. He was feeling powerful in this position. Joe: You see that up there. He said pointing to a camera up in the corner of the room. That has recorded everything you said to me and the last guy that was interrogating you. So, I don''t need you anymore. I have enough dirt to put you and your former goons behind bars. Joe was lying. He didnt know what was said to the last guy, and video evidence that was used and acquired in this way wouldn''t stand up in court. But, he wanted to get as much as he could out of Rob, and Joe was banking on him not knowing this. Rob was stunned by what he heard. The confidence he had been projecting had faded away, leaving a gibbering nervous wreck of a man. Rob: Y-you cant do this. Joe: I can and will, unless you tell me what I want to know. Rob: N-no you have to give me protection. I-i still have dirt on the night queen. S-so please help me. I beg you. Dont let it get me He said, whimpering and tears forming in his eyes. It wasn''t the response Joe expected. He had expected that Rob would be stubborn and defiant till the end, not begging him. The anger that was inside Joe for many years broke, leaving him feeling empty. This wasn''t the Rob Anvil he knew anymore. It was just the husk of a man. Joe was coming to the realization something more was going on. Joe: What happened to you? It''s not just drugs, is it? Rob just sat there blubbering and crying. Joe: Rob, listen to me. We cant protect you if you dont tell us whats going on. Rob: "I-i cant say." He said with tears in eyes. Joe: Why cant you? Rob: If I say, it will find me. Joe: Who will find you? Rob shook his head as snot and tears started to run down his face. Rob: I''m sorry Joe. I''m so sorry. If I could undo what happened to your friends, I would. So please, dont let it get me. I cant take it anymore. Joe: Does this have to do with why you went missing? Rob: Its because of that day. The day I killed Mark He immediately stopped and covered his mouth with both hands. His eyes started to look around erratically for something. Joe: Rob? Is everything OK? He said concernedly. Rob didnt say anything and just kept looking around. Thirty seconds went by and Joe kept trying to get Rob to speak up. Suddenly for less than a second, in the corner of the room a light flickers before turning back on. This singular and simple event turned Rob''s expression to that of absolute terror. Rob: It found me! Joe, please you gotta do something! Joe: Rob, calm down. Rob: Please dont let it take me! Dont let it take me!! Dont let it take me!!! Dont let it take meeee!!!! He screamed before jumping across the table and grabbing Joe by the neck. Both men tumbled down onto the ground with Rob strangling Joe. Joe himself was so surprised and had no time to react. Despite his diminished state, Rob was still fairly strong and Joe couldn''t force him off alone. Mike, also surprised, quickly ran over to Joe and helped pry Rob off him. Each investigator grabbed one of Rob''s arms and slowly pulled them away from Joe''s neck. Together they were able to get Rob off. Once Joe was free, Mike grabbed Rob by the collar of his shirt and threw him into the corner of the room. Rob landed with a thud and slid slightly towards the wall. He then curled up into a ball and started wailing and crying. Joe was on the floor breathing heavily and dazed. Mike picked Joe up onto his shoulders and exited the room, locking it on the way out. Rob''s wailing and crying could still be heard outside the interrogation room. Once both of them were alone in the hallway, Joe was able to slowly get back onto his own feet. He rubbed his own neck sorely. Thankfully Rob wasn''t as strong as he was in the past, otherwise his esophagus might''ve been crushed. Mike: Are you OK? Joe: Ugh. Y-yeah. Didnt expect that. Mike: Me neither. I didnt hear anything about him being unstable. Seemed pretty normal until you said something to set him off. Joe: Which is just great. It sets our investigation back to zero. Mike: Why do you say that? Joe: Any testimony from a mad man wouldnt hold up in court. Mike: Right They both stared at the ground feeling exhausted and defeated. Mike: You know you told me not to feel sympathetic for the guy, but Joe: "I know. I felt the same way. Whatever is left in that room isn''t the Rob you and I know anymore." Mike: Yeah. It made me realize something. Joe: Whats that? Mike: Rob''s suffering doesn''t make it hurt any less. Our friends are still gone. Joe: Yeah Another minute went by standing in the hallway while Rob wailed in the interrogation room. Mike: Sorry for bringing the mood down. Joe: Oh, dont worry about that. I think finding out about Robs mental state has more to do with the mood than your comment. Mike: Right, so what do we do about this? Joe: Well I guess first we need to He stopped mid sentence. An unnatural silence filled the hallway. There was a strange feeling in the air. It didnt feel right. It felt fundamentally wrong. They looked at each other knowingly. They both could tell that the other could also feel it. Both men felt uneasy. The primordial instincts that were buried deep in their souls were telling them not to be here. Whatever Mike wanted to say, he couldn''t. He wanted to speak, but couldn''t form words to break the silence. The sensation he was feeling was paralyzing him. Joe was able to push through it. He slowly looked around to try and see the source of this strange feeling. The hallway they were standing in somehow felt a little darker and more unwelcoming than it was before. There was nothing he could see that would be causing this sensation. He then finally noticed that Rob''s wailing couldn''t be heard anymore. Taking a step towards the room Rob was in, Joe heard a wet spat sound from the grounds. Looking down, he had stepped into blood that was pooling at the base of the door to Robs interrogation room. Realizing something was terribly wrong, he quickly kicked open the door. Joe had opened the door to a slaughter. Rob''s decapitated head was laying on the table with his face frozen in absolute terror. His other limbs scattered all over the room. Blood drenched the walls and the few pieces of furniture that were in there. His torso was near the door with his guts spilled out and blood still slowly seeping out of it. Rob had been butchered by someone or something and left as a bloody mess. Neither Mike or Joe had seen anything like this. Mike didnt know how to process what was going on. He''d been to a scene of a murder before, but something about this was different. His stomach started to turn. He put his head off to the side to vomit. Joe was handling the situation a little better, but was also slightly dazed. There were too many things happening and too quickly at once. His thoughts couldn''t catch up. What was happening defied reason for Joe. He just stared at Rob''s head with its lifeless and terrified expression. A single thought coursed through his mind: What would a man need to see to make that face? He then saw from the corner of his eye, one of the ceiling tiles shift slightly back into place. Joe didnt understand what was happening, but he knew what he needed to do right at this moment. There was someone hiding in the ceiling, and he needed to catch them. Coming to his senses, he quickly ran down the hallway, leaving bloody footprints behind him as he did. He pulled an emergency lever. All the exits of the building were automatically locked and an alarm was blaring for all to hear. The entire police station went into full lock down. Joe ran back to Mike, who was still dazed. He grabbed the dazed officer by the shoulder and aggressively shook him. Joe: Mikey! Snap out of it! There''s a murderer hiding somewhere, we need to find him. Mike just barely pulled himself out of his daze and nodded his head in response. Mike and Joe ran out the hallway and would meet up with other officers. They would tell them someone sneaked into the room that was holding Rob and murdered him. Every available officer at the headquarters would search the area, but by the morning nothing would be found. Meanwhile, some pedestrians nearby would hear the blaring alarm and wonder what was going on. Chapter 7 - Strange Coincidences
In a distant land in the past. A ten year old child with black hair named Alan was looking through the rubble of a ruined home. There was fire and chaos all around him. It was a warzone, but the little boy was determined to find what was buried beneath the rubble. Alan: Big sis, where are you? He cried out, while moving debris Another young boy rushed up behind Alan, calling out to him as he approached. Boy: What are you doing? Yelled the blond hair boy while grabbing Alan''s hand. It was Alans best friend Cris. He had come to find Alan after the attack to take him to the evacuation point. Alan: "Its my big sis. I can''t find her." Cris: "Its too late Alan, we gotta go. My dad says the army is going to be here soon." Tears started to form in Alan''s eyes at Criss words. Alan had heard the sirens when he was making his way home from school. He had managed to get into a shelter just as the bombing started. After the series of explosions had ended, Alan had rushed home. His older sister was sick and bedridden today and would have been at home when the bombing started. He needed to know she was alright. When he arrived, his house was nothing but a pile of rubble. He had been desperately trying to move the debris to find his sister, until Cris showed up. Cris could see that Alan was about to cry and tried to calm him down. Cris: It''s going to be alright. She might be at the evacuation point already. He nodded as he tried to hold back the tears. Both boys held each other''s hands and started running toward the evacuation point, with Cris leading the way. They made their way through alleyways and took the long way around routes that were blocked or destroyed. The streets were covered in debris and half the buildings in the town were set on fire. While they were running, Alan questioned Cris to get a sense of what was going on. Alan: "Hey Cris, have you seen Lance." Cris didnt say anything and was looking away from Alan. Alan thought that Cris didnt hear him and was about to ask him again. He then looked closer at the side of Cris''s face to see tears running down it. Alan: Cris Cris: My brother is gone. We gotta keep moving. He said while struggling to hold back his own tears. Alan was beginning to tear up a little again. He Knew what Criss words meant, and didnt say anymore as he managed to force back the tears. They continued running toward their destination when an explosion went off near the two boys. They were sent flying and the world around Alan spun. Both of them landed on soft grass. They were bruised, but mostly unharmed. They picked themselves up and looked towards where the explosion went off to see a giant man standing there engulfed in flames. The man slowly stepped outside the fire and swung a sword the size of a small person. The force from his swing was enough to dissipate the fire near him. Once the fire was gone, both of the boys could see the monster that stood before them. The man was completely clad head to toe in a sinister looking black armor with jagged spikes on the helm and shoulder guards. The thick iron sword he was wielding was serrated and had what looked like a real human skull fused into the guard. His appearance made him almost look like a demon from the old stories. Only his mouth and lower jaw were not covered, revealing a cruel smile. Armored Man: Well look at what we got here. Some fresh meat. Hahahahah. Alan and Cris shivered at the presence of the monster of a human. They wanted to desperately run, but were both trapped and frozen in fear. When they thought all was lost, an explosion of ice and lightning hit the side of the monster and sent him flying into one of the nearby buildings. From around the corner of another building, two men in red and white robes emerged wearing metal greaves and gauntlets. Elemental energy that blasted the armored man still crackled in their hands. They both bore the crest of knights belonging to the lord of the domain. Knight: Holy shit. Captain, is that guy even human? The blast sent him flying instead of ripping him in half. Knight Captain: Soldier, there are civilians. Secure them while I hold him off. Knight: Cmon captain, there is no way that guy could have survived that Before he could finish his sentence, the building that person crashed into exploded. From the explosion, emerged what could hardly be called a man by the people there. The person was completely unharmed, despite being blasted directly with the knight''s magic. There was a strange feeling that only the people present would have felt. It was a feeling that slightly unnerved the knights and terrified the children. It was a primal viciousness and a joy for violence that emanated from the armored man. Armored Man: Hahahaha. I thought I was going to get to butcher some kids, but youll do fine. Knight Captain: Ugo of the Endless War Cult, what are you doing here? Ugo: "Isn''t it obvious? It''s what the cult does, but I know thats not what you meant. The noble faction paid me and my boys to burn this place down. Though we would have done it anyways without the cash, but dont let them know that. Full coffers mean more war and battles for us. Hahahahaha." Knight Captain: You fucking monster. Ugo: "Yeah yeah, enough talk. Let''s fight." He said as he swung his sword and it became engulfed in flames, sending a blast of fire towards both the knights and children. The knight captain put his hand on the ground and conjured a barrier of ice surrounding both the knight and the children. It was a clash of ice and fire, and it looked like fire had the upper hand. The flames slammed into the barrier and it began to rapidly deteriorate. The size of the barrier was cut in half and holes were forming in it, all from the one attack from Ugo. Knight Captain: Soldier! Stop gawking and secure those kids already!!! He screamed while keeping himself faced to Ugo and maintaining what was left of his barrier. The knight nodded. He then scooped up both kids in each of his arms. He muttered something under his breath and arcs of electricity started to come off his legs. He then ran at an inhuman speed, making a beeline towards the evacuation point. The world the boys could see turned into blur for them. They were going by familiar streets and landmarks so quickly everything melded together in their vision. Eventually they made it to the evacuation point. It was crowded and chaotic. They were at a bus station near the edge of town. Countless people were all waiting to get onto the transport vehicles. Parents and children were wandering around yelling out the names of their loved ones. Knight: Ok, there ya go. He said as he placed the boys onto the ground. Alan: Mr Knight, is that ice wizard going to be OK? Knight: Dont worry. My captain can handle anything. He said with a fake confidence and smile. Anyways, talk to those soldiers over there, theyll make sure youll get to where you need to go. He said while pointing to other Knights standing outside a transport vehicle. Before the boys could ask the knight any more questions he zoomed away at lightning speed, leaving the boys by themselves. Cris: Cmon Alan, let''s go find our parents. He said as he walked towards the crowd. Alan nodded and followed Cris. Some time went by, but both Alan and Cris were eventually able to find their parents. However, Alan''s sister was nowhere to be found that day. ?????????????????? Twelve years later. In the courtyard of the Graheel college sat a group of three students studying for exams. One of the students sitting there was Alan, but now much older. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Alan was currently staring off into space, thinking about the past. ???: Alan, are you awake? Alan: Huh. Alan was snapped back out of his daydreaming. He looked up to see his friend Sere looking at him a little annoyed. Sere was an old friend of Alan. She had long silver hair and blue eyes, which match her blue and white robes. The symbol of Silverwing College, a pair of white wings, was embroidered onto the front and back of her clothing near the shoulders. Her complexion was light and by most people''s account she was considered quite beautiful. Sere: You''re spacing out again. Were supposed to be studying for finals. Ginger hair student: "Yeah Alan. Maybe examinations are easier in the Lionheart college for you, but the Ember Gear examinations are brutal. So, dont be spacing out and help me out man." The other student sitting beside him was another of Alan''s good friends, Jafar. Jafar had messy unwashed short orange hair and wore thick glasses for his bad eyesight. His face was full of blemishes and the orange robes he wore were messy and crinkled in places. His overall appearance denoted a certain lack of hygiene, a stereotype students of the Ember college carried that Jafar was reinforcing by his current presentation. Alan: Sorry, just thinking about some random stuff. Sere: Are you thinking about what happened last night at the police station? Alan: No. What happened at the police station? Sere: They say it was a terrorist attack. Alan: Really? Who was it? Sere: Well, I don''t know. It is just a rumor afterall. The police havent released any official statement. Alan: Ugh. You got me excited over nothing. Sere: Its not nothing. Something did happen at the police station last night. There was a loud alarm and police running all over the place. My home is near there, so I saw and heard everything. Alan: But they havent released any official statement, so why assume it was a terrorist. Sere: It''s just what I read online. They said it would only be a matter of time before Graheel would be targeted by some cult or terrorist. Jafar: Um, guys? Finals, remember? he said a little annoyed. Alan: Oh c''mon Jafar. We''ve been studying for hours already. It wont kill us if we take a break once in a while. Besides, you''re already a genius, so why bother studying. Jafar: I''m not that smart. And, even if I were a genius I still would need to study. But, I get your point, so let''s get something to eat instead of talking about random rumors. Sere: Sounds good to me. They began to collect their books and pack them away into their bags. They were probably going to head off campus to find a restaurant to get lunch. Alan and his friends didnt find that the restaurants available on school grounds were very good, so they often went into town when eating out. They began to walk toward the exit of the courtyard when they heard a commotion. Looking toward the sounds, Alan and his friends saw a group of male students from the Gilded Sun college surrounding another student in gray and black robes. In Graheel university there were seven colleges that students can join. The Gilded Sun was the second most influential of those colleges and it''s members were denoted by their yellowish golden robes. It was a college that many of the aristocrats and the wealthy would attend. It also had a bit of a bad reputation amongst the other colleges. It was thought that many of the students from that college had inflated egos and were easily offended. So, students from other colleges would keep their distance from them, an unspoken rule that was currently being broken. The person the Sun students were surrounding was from the Grayscale College. Gilded Sun Student: Who the fuck do you think you are. Bumping into us, he said aggressively. Grayscale Student: B-but, you bumped into me, he said nervously. Gilded Sun Student: Know your place plebeian. Are you trying to pass your blame off to Edward Scefer of house Scefer? Grayscale Student: N-no. Let''s just forget this happened and go our separate ways. Gilded Sun Student: Too late now for that. No, you''re gonna pay for the trouble you''ve caused. A bunch of bystanders were there watching the confrontation, unsure of what to do. Interfering with the affairs of the nobles was asking for trouble. It stopped people from speaking up, even if they knew what the Gilded Sun students were doing was wrong. Sere: Assholes. Dont know why they dont just stick to their side of the campus and leave the rest of us alone. Alan, seeing what was going on, walked over and put himself between the two students and confronted the Gilded Sun gang . Alan: Enough. Just like he said, go your separate ways. He said while looking down at the Gilded Sun student. His imposing presence unnerved the Gilded Sun student. Alan was quite tall in comparison to most other students. He stood at 67 (2 Meters) tall with broad shoulders, which was imposing to most. The Gilded Sun student was able to quickly regain his composure and immediately went back to his own arrogant attitude he was displaying before. Gilded Sun Student: Pft, a Lionheart. Figures it would be one of you guys. The snide remark was in reference to the robes that Alan was wearing. Anybody who saw Alans uniform would know that these were the robes that students from the Lionheart college wore. He wore a vibrant red and white robe with a fierce looking lion embroidered on his sleeves. His uniform was not that similar as the other students at the university, as it was more combat oriented. There were both small and large bits of protective metal plating woven into his clothing, which made him look more bulky in appearance than he really was. There was a rivalry between the Lionhearts and the Gilded Suns, and it was intense. Many students from both colleges didnt like each other, and that dislike was even being displayed here at Alan. Gilded Sun Student 2: Dont let your head get too big just cause you''re from the Lionheart college. another Gilded Sun student said. Gilded Sun Student : Yeah, aint that right Edward. He said while looking over his shoulder. All people from the Gilded Sun present turned toward the one standing at the center of the group, Edward Scefer. He wore the same yellow and gold robes as the other Gilded Sun students present, but something about the way he wore it displayed a certain type of elegance in comparison to the others. Edward had short blond hair and hazel eyes with a sharp jawline. Many people would consider these features made him quite handsome in his appearance. Edward looked uninterested and was displaying a very dismissive attitude at the whole situation. Edward: Enough. This is a waste of time. You degrade yourselves by talking to plebeians. Alan: Yeah, better listen to your boss. He said slightly sarcastically. The dismissive look that Edward had turned into a glare directed toward Alan. Edward: Dont get too full of yourself, commoner. Just cause you''re a Lionheart doesn''t mean I wont put you in your place, but I have a schedule to keep. So, count yourself lucky, he said, turning his back and walking away. His goon followed, giving Alan a quick glare before doing so. Once the Sun students had walked some distance away, the Grayscale student quickly approached Alan. Grayscale Student: T-thank you. I didnt know what to do there. Alan: No problem. Just remember to stay away from anyone from the Gilded Sun. They are all assholes like that. Grayscale Student: I know. I just got distracted and didnt see them coming. Anyways, thanks again. He said as he began to quickly walk away. The surrounding people watching the altercation quickly went back to doing their own things. Both Sere and Jafar came up to Alan, clearly a little giddy at what he just did. Sere: Trying to be the hero I see. She said with a slight smirk. Alan: Someone needed to put those guys in their place. Jafar: True, but you need to be careful. I hear that people from noble houses can hold grudges forever, so if you see those guys again theyll probably try to mess with you. Alan: They would have messed with me anyways, being from the Lionheart college and all. Anyways, what do you want for lunch? Sere: Pasta, maybe? Sere said, unsure if that was what she really wanted. Jafar: We had that yesterday. Let''s try something different. While both of Alan''s friends were discussing where to go for lunch, his attention began to wander to an unassuming individual standing off in the distance. It was someone wearing green robes, a uniform worn by students of the Shroom Pact college. It was someone Alan had never met before. He was just standing there near the entrance of the courtyard looking at someone. Alan got a weird feeling from this person. Without warning the guy flicked something out of his pocket that went into some nearby bushes. Alan then saw the bushes rustling, disturbed by whatever was thrown into it, a squirrel jumped out and ran quickly across the courtyard. The animal made its way towards another female student, before it tried to crawl up their leg. The female student then began to scream and panic. Everyone around, including the Gilded Sun students who were about to leave, stopped what they were doing and stared at what was going on. The student was screaming and trying to deal with the squirrel crawling up her leg, but Alan''s attention shifted from her towards some nearby birds that were disturbed by the woman''s screams. The bird''s natural instincts to flee from loud sounds kicked in, and many took flight off a nearby tree. They flew as a flock, but one bird separated from the group and was heading towards someone in a hanging platform high up in a nearby building. It was someone from the maintenance staff who was cleaning some windows. They were doing their job, when one of the birds flew into him. The sudden collision caused him to lose his balance and shake the platform he was on. The platform then swung erratically before slamming into the side of the building with a loud metal thud. A series of cracks started to form on the wall from where the platform had impacted. More cracks formed by the second and climbed up the side of the wall to one of the overhanging statues that was at the top of the building. Alan had witnessed the strange series of events and could see the statue shifting and about to fall. Looking below it, he saw the group of Gilded Sun members standing right below. No else one saw this, as everyone was distracted by the panicking girl. The statue shifted one last time and started to tilt forward off the edge of the building. Alan: Watch out!" Alan screamed. The Gilded Sun students shifted their attention towards Alan, confused. Seeing that they wouldn''t be able to react in time, he raised his hand and focused his aether. The familiar energy was quickly concentrated and condensed into his hand, before exploding outward towards the Sun students as air pressure. Some of the Gilded Sun students could see what Alan was doing, but were too shocked to react. Before Edwards'' group knew it, they were blasted by a powerful gust of wind and sent flying.They all landed ungracefully, scattered about from one another. One of the gilded sun students was quick to pick himself up and angrily shouted towards Alan. Gilded Sun Student: What the fuck do you think you''re his words were interrupted as a statue came crashing down where they were just standing. The statue smashed into thousands of pieces and shot dust up all around it. The commotion shifted everyone''s attention towards Alan and the Sun students. There were some students that screamed in surprise, while others were aghast. Everyone in the courtyard was shocked. Not everyone knew immediately what was happening. A few people did see Alan save Edward Scefer and his crew and were approaching them. Some of the bystanders were checking on the Sun students to ensure they were OK, while the others were impressed by what Alan did. A crowd was quickly being formed around Alan. Random Student: That was amazing, you saved them. A real hero like in the stories. Random Student 2: Excuse me, I work for the college paper. Can I get your name and Alan was surrounded and barraged with a series of questions and couldn''t move. He looked over at the Scefer crew to see them being helped up by some other students. Edward himself looked dazed, but mostly unharmed. Some of the others had a frustrated look to themselves. Alan could tell that many of the Sun students were clearly upset at being saved by a commoner. A fact he was able to derive a little bit of satisfaction from. Seeing that they were OK, he looked towards the area where he saw the Shroom Pact college student. The person he was looking for was standing near one of the entrances to the courtyard. The Shroom Pack student was glaring at someone. He was getting a strange feeling from him again. Alan was good at reading other people''s emotions, so it was strange. He felt like that person was maybe annoyed rather than surprised or horrified, like everyone else. It''s almost like he knew what was going to happen. The Shroom Pact student went around a corner, out of sight, before Alan could call out to him. Alan pushed through the crowd to chase after. He had quickly made it around the corner where the shroom student went, but he lost him. He was nowhere to be seen. There is something strange going on. He thought to himself before he headed back to his friends. Chapter 8 - Meeting under Cait Cid was feeling very annoyed as he walked past several stores. It had been nearly a week since he tried to remove a potential annoyance and test his new abilities. However, it ended in failure. Cid knew there was a margin of error of 0.1% for it not to go the way he expected, but for that to come into play on his first attempt. Cid: I must be the unluckiest person in the world. No matter. I will deal with that issue at a later date. For now, I need to meet up with her. He mumbled to himself. Cid was heading towards the tea house that Scarlett had told him to meet at. The location was relatively close to Mr Li''s store. Only a ten to twenty minute walk to and from. The location made him wonder if Scarlett had some sort of connection to the crime syndicate of this city. Any establishment so close to the red light district would make Cid question its affiliation. Especially one to hold a meeting with one of the most wanted criminals on the continent. The staff at this location would need to keep their lips sealed, or it would turn bad for Cid if the cops knew who he was associated with. Eventually he would arrive at his destination. It was a quaint little tea house called the Cait House. The design of the store was simple and didnt stand out. The only notable thing was a black cat logo in the front windows. What a weird place to meet. He thought before he nonchalantly entered the store. The inside was just as unremarkable as the outside. There were about a dozen tables and a serving counter with various baked goods behind a glass display. The walls of the establishment were covered with bookshelves and a few pieces of random artwork. Two waitresses behind the counter were busily brewing tea and packing away baked goods for a customer. There were a few other customers seated at some tables eating food while enjoying some of the tea this place offers. Cid waited patiently for the staff to finish serving the customer in front of him before he approached the front counter. Cid: Um, excuse me. Waitress: Yes, how can I help you? Cid: I''m supposed to meet someone here today. Waitress: Oh, OK. Did you and your friend reserve a table? Cid: No, we were supposed to meet in the VIP room. As soon as he said that, the worker''s demeanor became slightly more serious and looked him up and down. She was trying to assess who exactly Cid was. Waitress: Ok who are you exactly meeting today? Noticing the slight change in behavior, Cid decided to drop Scarlett''s name at that moment. Cid: I''m meeting Alexandria Scar He was interrupted by the worker reaching across the table and covering his mouth with her hand. She glared at Cid and any illusion of a welcoming employee was gone. She had a scowl on her face and was obviously annoyed with Cid. Waitress: You''re an idiot. Dont say her name out loud. She whispered aggressively. The action that the waiter was doing did not go unnoticed by the other people in the store. All the ambient noise in the restaurant was gone and everyone in the store was staring at Cid. One of the customers, a mutant goat man, spoke up. Goat Man: Hey Lise, is that kid giving you trouble? The large mutant man with goat eyes and horns said while standing up. Lise: Everything is OK Thom. Just a greenhorn who doesn''t know the rules. Now then, let''s get you to that VIP room shall we. Stacy, cover for me. She said as she grabbed his hand and made their way to the back of the store. The other waitress nodded and silently watched as Cid was quickly ushered away from view of the other partitions and led through a door at the back into a plain hallway. Cid was guided through the hallway by the waitress. As he was led, he decided to probe the girl for some information. Cid wanted to know if this was going to become a bad situation, and whether or not he needed to take drastic action. Cid: Did the person I''m supposed to meet not say anything about me? Lise: I dont know anything and I want to keep it that way. She said harshly. She was very forceful with that answer. Cid thought to himself. This wasn''t a bad sign in Cid''s mind. Nobody would normally ever want to willingly associate with someone like the scarlet witch. Those that do would limit how much information they knew, giving themselves some level of plausible deniability. It was a good sign that she was probably here, or at least used this establishment, however he still wanted to confirm it. Cid: Can you at least tell me if that person is even here? Lise: Youll see for yourself. The waitress continued to refuse Cid questions. As they moved along the hallway they came across a thick metal door to a walk-in freezer. Opening it revealed that it was completely empty and the temperature felt the same inside as it did outside. Cid: It seems your freezer is broken," he said jokingly to try and lighten the mood a little. Lise ignored his comment and guided him to the back of the room. She tapped the back wall in a certain pattern and then a certain section of the wall shifted then slowly swung outwards, revealing a hidden stairwell. It was surprising for Cid, but before he could say anything Lise grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the stairwell. They both made their way down the stairs and as they did, Cid could hear the wall shifting again behind them. Lise: Your opportunity to run is now gone. Let''s hope the person you''re meeting is expecting you. Lise said with a smirk. Her sly threats left him unfazed. Cid would be scared if he knew Scarlett wasn''t expecting him, but she was. I feel like I''m being underestimated, but I guess I''m a greenhorn in her eyes. Cid thought to himself. After reaching the bottom they walked down a dark hallway with rows of metal doors on each side. There was no indicator of what those rooms contain or even what they would be used for other than storage. There were however four digit numbers painted in red on each door. As they continued to move down the hallway, the numbers on the doors were rapidly ascending. Eventually they came to room 1313. It was slightly different in appearance from the other doors. It was a large thick metal door with a turn wheel on it. It almost looked like a door to a safe. The waitress released Cid from her grip. She then put both hands on the wheel and started slowly turning it. The sound of gears and mechanisms moving in the door could be heard as she turned slowly, until a loud click was heard. She then slowly pulled the half meter thick metal door open, revealing the interior of the room. The walls inside were covered in red tuff wall panels with expensive looking furniture placed about the room. At the center of the room was an expensive looking mahogany table where Scarlett was sitting, facing toward the door. She paid them no mind as she was looking down at a bunch of documents while sipping from a strange tea set. They both entered and Lise made an exaggerated coughing sound to try and indicate that Scarlett had a visitor. Scarlett: I''m not blind. You can leave the boy with me and go back to your duties. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Lise sighed and shook her head. Listening closely Cid could hear mutter under her breath fucking bitch. Lise: Good luck. She whispered to Cid before leaving and closing the door behind her. The door closed with a loud sound of mechanism locking in place, leaving Cid alone trapped in the room with the most wanted criminal on the planet. He didnt know what to do so he just stood there for a minute. Scarlett: You dont have to stand there gawking. Have a seat. She said without taking eyes away from the document. Cid: Oh, OK," he said as he pulled out a chair and sat at the table across from Scarlett. His attention was attracted to the strange tea set Scarlett was drinking from. It was completely black with strange white symbols he had never seen, yet at the same time he felt some strange familiarity towards it for some reason. Wait, didn''t Mr Lee have a tea set like that at his store? I cant remember. He sat there thinking about that strange feeling of familiarity. A minute went by and he couldn''t figure out where he had seen it. Eventually he decided to try and get a glimpse at what scarlet was reading , but the documents were upside down relative from where he was sitting, making it difficult to read. He could however make out two words - Fieal County. Fieal County? Thats my home town. Why would she be reading documents about my home town? Wait a minute! Cid thought to himself. Cid: Are all those documents about me. Scarlett: Yup. Cid: W-why? Scarlett: Come now. Have you never heard about background checks for employment? She said as she placed the document she was reading down and looked towards Cid. Cid: W-well yeah, but this isn''t exactly a normal job. Scarlett: Now why would you assume that? Cid: You''re not going to start telling me that you do payroll and pay taxes like a good citizen now. Scarlett: A joke? My my, youve become more confident since our first interaction. Not afraid of me anymore. Cid: I wouldnt say I''m not afraid, but you did say you would never hurt another patron of Mr Li. Assuming you were telling the truth? Scarlett: "What I said back then was very much the truth. And despite my reputation, I don''t casually go around burning people to death, so you have nothing to worry on that front. My pyromancy is reserved for those that would do me or my allies harm." Cid: Well I have no intention of causing you harm, so no worries there. Scarlett: No offense, I really doubt you could bring harm to me with you being a Null mage and all. Not even the unique kind too. Her comment stung what little pride Cid still had. It was the first time someone had referred to him as a Null mage and it hurt. A Null mage was the technical term for the kind of magic user Cid was. Someone who has no elemental affinity at all. This did not preclude him from using elemental magic, only that he would never excel at any of it. The existence of Null mages was uncommon, but not rare. In some cases, Null mages could develop a unique type of magic that only they could use, making them invaluable to governments and organizations. Conversely, a Null mage without a unique magic was valued less than a normal mage and only a half step above a non-mage. Not being able to effectively infuse any spell with elemental power makes the spells significantly weaker. This made spells Cid had tried to weave without elemental power pitiful. Cid remembered during his affinity test that he tried so hard to channel any known element with his magic. In the end he was never able to channel any elemental power in a reasonable time and felt so distraught then. The future seemed so bleak for Cid back then, but now was different. Cid: Is me being a Null mage going to be a problem? Scarlett: Not really. The main task I really need help with requires trust more so than expertise. However, what''s a nice way of saying this? Scarlett put her index finger to her chin and stared off into the distance for a little while. She was carefully considering her words. Scarlett: Let''s start from the beginning. You''re a country bumpkin who gave up everything from friendship to family, all so that you could come to Graheel and get an arcane education. Beyond this fact there is nothing notable to say. You are the white bread of human existence, which is to say yours is a story that plays out all the time. Cid: Ok. That felt a little rude, and that feels a bit reductionist on your part. You dont really know who I am, so I dont get where you get to call me the white bread of human existence. Scarlett: You were born in Fieal County to a loving father and mother with two younger siblings. At age 9 you were playing in the woods and got lost, where then the community came together and searched the woods and managed to find you safely. You made the front page of your local newspaper that year. At age fourteen you met your sweetheart Ember Jiss at Higgs High School, where you continued to date until you turned 19. At that age you decided to attend Graheel university much to your family''s disapproval. You then got in an altercation with your father where he threatened to disown you if you went to Graheel. You ignored him and went anyway. You were disowned and due to your family''s standing in the community, pretty much everyone from that county wont talk to you now. The next three years you would take out loans to pay for your education while getting middling grades at the Shroom Pact college. Finally, at age 22 we find ourselves here with you being interviewed by the scarlet witch herself. Does that sum up a good chunk of your life? Cid paused and looked at Scarlett completely stunned. Cid: How do you know all that? Some of that information I can understand where you got, but the others. Scarlett: I''m really well connected and I do my research. I havent even gotten into some of the even more personal information I managed to dig up, like your finance information, medical information, even the brand of underwear you have on right now. Cid: There''s no way you know what type of underwear I''m wearing. Scarlett: You''re wearing Diffs. Cid: Fucking Holy Light! Why do you know that, why do you need to know that!? he yelled. Scarlett chuckled a little. Scarlett: I actually didnt know. I took an educated guess. There are only two major brands of underwear you can get in this city. You also dont seem like someone who would get custom clothing, so I had a 50/50 chance of guessing correctly, and your reaction seemed to confirm I was right. Cid''s face turned a little red with embarrassment. Realizing that Scarlett basically tricked him into telling her what kind of underwear he was wearing, he quickly tried to change the topic. Cid: B-back to the main point. What are you trying to say about me? Scarlett: I''m saying you are remarkably unremarkable and I find that so curious. Why did John choose you? Cid: I''m not sure I follow? Scarlett: Like I said. Yours is a story that has played out a thousand times in this city, its normal. The people that I know who were chosen by Mr Li are anything, but normal. Cid: So, I''m too normal in your eyes? Scarlett: Yes. Too normal for me to see where you fit into John''s plans. He wondered what she meant by John''s plans. Cid: You''re acting like Mr Li does things with a deeper purpose than he says. It''s obvious to me that he just wants to help people. Regardless of whether they''re special or not. Scarlett: You''re like the others. You''re not seeing the big picture. Why would such a profoundly powerful being act with such simple desires? There is more to it. Cid narrowed his eyes towards Scarlett. He did not like where this conversation was going. There was an implication of malicious manipulation from John in her words. Despite associating with Scarlett, he still believed in his heart that John was a genuinely kind person, and he didnt like that Scarlett was suggesting otherwise. Scarlett took notice of Cid''s changing demeanor and could immediately tell what was going through his mind. Scarlett: Oh come off it. I''m not suggesting anything malevolent on John''s part. Its more like he subtly pushes people in the right direction for the most desirable outcome. Like a parent guiding their children just enough for them to be able to do something by themselves. Cid calmed down after hearing that. Cid: OK. As long as you''re not belittling Mr Li''s kindness. Cid then put his hand on the book he had hidden under his robes. He recalled the day he received it from John and how traumatic it was at first. Cid: Although, your idea of what constitutes a subtle push is very different from mine. Scarlett: Its relative. From his perspective, changing fate and bending reality might be nothing for him. Cid: Hmm. Maybe so. He said while thinking back to the truth the book had shown him. Scarlett raised an eyebrow at his response. Scarlett: I get the sense that you know something more. What did John reveal to you? Cid: Ill tell you some other day. Scarlett: Huh, anyway about the job. You''ll mostly just be helping me clean up after my experiments for the time being. Something that even a Null mage could do, is that acceptable? Cid: That should be OK, but what am I specifically cleaning? Scarlett: My failed attempts to reconstitute the dead. Cid: Necromancy!! He yelled out. Scarlett: Um, yes? Is that really so surprising at this point? Cid paused and thought about it. Necromancy was the manipulation of flesh and spirit and highly illegal. Its ban was due to the corrupting force it has on the user, and the cruel nature of binding souls to the living world. An arcane practice that only a black mage would engage in. A black mage like the one he was about to work for. Cid: OK, maybe I shouldn''t be that surprised, but give me a break. I was only a normal student about a week ago. Also, I thought you were a pyromancer, not a necromancer. Scarlett: Best get used to this. Your life can only get stranger from here. And, I am a pyromancer, but there is no reason that I can''t dabble in other arcane arts, like necromancy. Anyways, do you have any more questions about the job? Cid: I still have a ton of questions, but I think I''ll ask them when they come up. Scarlett: OK, any other question you want to ask about me then. Cid: Um, no? I already said I''ll ask later. Scarlett: Not about the job, but me. Is there anything you want to know about me? It''s only fair since I know so much about you already. Cid: Um, not really? She sighed. Scarlett: OK look. You might not believe that John says and does things with greater meaning, but I do. And, I think he sent you to me to help work through my trauma. Cid: Right, OK. Um, I''m not a therapist, but I can listen and give you some general advice if that''s what you want. Scarlett: I dont need a therapist. I have trust issues. I push people away when I really should be relying on them, and its hindered my work. So I need you to help me get over this. Cid: If that is true, what happened? You said it was trauma, right? So, something had to happen, causing you to distrust people so much. Scarlett took a deep stuttered breath and exhaled. Scarlett: Look, that is not easy for me. I need to work myself up some more before I can tell. Ask me something else for now. Cid: Right, um. Where did you learn magic, how about that? Scarlett: Well that is a bit easier. Where do I begin? Chapter 9 - Where Things Begin In a far away land in the distant past, a young twelve year old Scarlett was running through an empty field with great excitement. In her hand held close to her chest was a red glass sphere. She had finally done it, after countless attempts. She had managed to infuse pure flame energy into glass. She had tried hundreds of times, but this was the first time she had managed to do it without the glass melting. She was rushing off to where her teacher was staying. She didnt know how long the infused glass would last, so she needed him to look at it right away. Young Scarlett eventually came to the edge of a wooded area with a path. The road ahead was shaded by giant trees and it looked as though this route was rarely used. Even so, the day was bright and the greenery looked welcoming, so the young girl continued on her journey. Taking that path, she made her way through the overgrowth to a simple hidden lodge. She immediately entered inside to find a handsome red haired older man with red slitted reptilian eyes. He was slim in his appearance, but carried himself with a certain air of old wisdom. He was reading a book inside the quant and simply furnished interior of his lodge. The man was named Cinder, a fire dragon in Human form and Scarlett''s teacher. The man noticed Scarlett entered and looked up from his book in surprise. Cinder: "Oh Scarlett. Whats got you so excited?" Scarlett: Teacher, teacher. I finally did it. I infused flame into glass, like you told me to. Cinder: Really? If that is true, let me see. Scarlett presented the glass sphere to her teacher. He carefully took the sphere from her hand and held it up to the light. He rotated it a few times while closely examining it. Cinder: Pretty basic, but I would not expect less from a first success. He placed the sphere on the table and smiled at Scarlett. Cinder: Congratulations, you passed. This is indeed a successful infusion of glass and flame. He said as he patted her head. Scarlett was ecstatic. She was becoming a ball of pent up excitement and happiness from the praise she was getting from her teacher. Scarlett: I did my best. It was a lot of work. Cinder: I can tell. So, can you tell me the process that you did to get this result? Scarlett: OK. Well, previously the glass always melted or shattered when I tried infusing it. I started slowing down the rate of aether that I was putting into it, that kept it from shattering, but not melting. Cinder nodded his head, approving of her method. Scarlett: I continued to try, but it always just melted. I then focused real hard on this infusion, and it was almost like I could see the fire itself entering the glass. Focusing on that, I realized that the flame was not being evenly dispersed. I then focused the flame aether where it was thinnest on the glass, until I got an even distribution. And then, well I made that, she said, pointing at the sphere. Cinder: Amazing. To think that you would come so far in five years. Scarlett grinned further at the praise of her teacher. Cinder: Now let me explain something to you. As you know, aether can be felt, but not seen. However, when you were infusing the glass, that flame you saw was in fact pure aether mixed with the fire element. Normally its impossible to see without the use of a device designed to detect it, but people like us have a special ability. Scarlett: Is it our ability to use pyromancy that allows us to see aether? Cinder shook his head. Cinder: No, it''s this. He said while pointing to his eye. Scarlett: Your eyes? But teacher, I don''t have dragon eyes like you. Cinder chuckled a little at his students'' response. Cinder: True, but that''s not what''s important. Its the color, we both have red eyes. That is what allows us to see aether. Scarlett was born with an incredibly strong affinity towards fire, and people born with such strong affinity could sometimes manifest odd physical traits. In Scarlett''s case, she was born with red hair and eyes, despite neither of those characteristics being part of her biological family. Scarlett: Why do red eyes allow us to see aether? Cinder: Its not the eyes themselves, it''s an ability called the eyes of truth. Something that only seems to manifest in beings with red eyes. As to why thats the case, I''m unsure. Scarlett: So this eye of truth ability is what allows me to see aether. Cinder: My dear disciple, the eyes of truth can do so much more than just let you see aether. They reveal the truth of the world. It''s said that they can allow you to see the past and future. I can tell you from my own experience that my eyes of truth allow me to see a glimpse of a person''s fate. Scarlett: Wha You can see the future? Does that mean you can see my future too? He nodded his head. Cinder: Yes, but only a glimpse. The only thing that I see of your future is that your decision will lead you to a cross road with you and eight other people, and each will go their own way. Scarlett: That''s so vague. Whats it supposed to mean? Cinder: Like I said, I only see a glimpse. It could mean nothing or everything. Anyways, in time you will be able to master this ability. Maybe one day you will discover more secrets of this power for yourself. Scarlett: Ill be sure to practice real hard to master this ability. Cinder: But be warned. Beyond practicing seeing aether, use this ability sparingly. People who have used the eyes of truth too much go blind, or mad. Do you understand? Scarlett: Right, I''ll only practice by looking at aether, so I don''t go blind. Cinder: Good. I''m glad you''re taking my final lesson to heart. Scarlett was so happy by the praise she was getting from her teacher, it took her a little while to process her master''s comment. Her happiness was beginning to be displaced by her apprehension. Scarlett: What do you mean by this being your final lesson. Cinder: I have nothing left to teach you. Any further improvement on your magic you will have to do yourself. Scarlett: But, there are still so many things that I still dont know about pyromancy. I still need you. Cinder shook his head. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Cinder: No you dont child. The world is to be your teacher now. Dont worry youll be fine. Scarlett began to panic. Scarlett: I-I can still visit you and get some advice if I ever get lost, right? Cinder: I''m afraid that wont be possible. I think I''m going to enter my eternal slumber soon. Scarlett: Are you sick? I thought you said dragons are eternal. Cinder: Our bodies are eternal, but not necessarily our spirits. I grow weary of this world and I think its time I left it to you youngsters. Scarlett: You''re just gonna roll over and die like that! She shouted out. Tears were starting to form in her eyes. She was sad that she would never be able to see her teacher again. With a pained smile, he closed in on Scarlett and gave her a hug. Cinder: Now, now. Dont cry little one. Its just the way the world works. He said as he patted her head. Scarlett tried to hold back her tears, but couldn''t. Cinder: How about this. I''ll stay with you for one more year before I leave. Hows that sound? Scarlett managed to regain her composure a little and nodded. Cinder: That''s good. No need to be sad, we have to celebrate your first successful infusion. I think I can scrounge together a cake. Eventually a year would go by, and when Scarlett went to visit Cinder, he was gone. ?????????????????? Beneath the Cait teahouse. Back in the current day. Cid: So let me get this straight. Your teacher was a dragon. Like, giant lizard with wings that breathes fire, kinda dragon. He said with an exacerbated surprise. Scarlett: Only sky dragons have wings. He was a fire dragon, so no wings, but yes your description is apt. Cid: Why am I only hearing about this now? Scarlett: My teacher made me promise not to tell anyone who taught me. So, in the past when people would ask, I would say I was self taught. Cid: Thats not the issue I''m having. I-I cant believe that there are still dragons on the continent. I thought they went extinct. He said in disbelief. Cid recalled the history lesson he had received in school. It was taught that in ancient times dragons and giants fought each other across the western continent. Eventually the giants won and slaughtered all the dragons, leaving only their bones and the stories told by the giants. Scarlett: Oh that. Well, they are extinct here. The stories you heard about the dragons fighting the giants and being exterminated are all true. Cid: I-I''m confused. Are you messing with me again? Scarlett: The dragons on this continent are extinct, but that doesn''t mean they dont still live in other places outside the western continent. Cid''s eyes widened from realization of what Scarlett was telling him. If what she said was true, then that would mean this dragon she knew could only be from the eastern continent. Little was known to him about the eastern continent, but he did recall hearing stories of giant flaming birds and turtles the size of islands that are said to reside there. If that was true, why not dragons too. Cid: Then, the eastern continent he said while pausing to consider the implication of this new information. Scarlett: Yes, I hear that there are indeed dragons still in the eastern continent, but they are said to be very reclusive. So much so, I hear people living there doubt even the existence of dragons. Cid: Amazing. That was all Cid could say at the revelation he had received. Scarlett: However, not to disappoint you, but my teacher was not from the eastern continent. He was from the island continent of Dravall. Cid: Hm, wheres that? Scarlett: Its between the eastern and western continent. You will likely never hear about it. You need to cross the deep ocean to reach it, so itll likely go unknown for years to come, unless they develop a method for long distance flights. The deep seas were said to be dangerous. It was a place where giant sea monsters of impossible size resided. Any boat that tried to cross the deep ocean would risk being attacked and dragged down by those monsters. It made travel between the continents difficult, resulting in very little information between them being shared. Cid: How do you know this? Did your teacher tell you about this place? Scarlett: He did. Told me not to tell anyone, but hes not here anymore, so I don''t care. Cid: Did he say why you''re not supposed to tell people? Scarlett: It had something to do with Dravall law. Dragons from there are not supposed to directly interfere with the affairs of other races. Cid: So I guess he was breaking their laws by interacting with you. Thats why you were not supposed to tell others. Scarlett: It was more complicated than that. From what I understand, if a dragon limits their power and changes their form to match the race theyre interacting with, its OK. Cid: Why is that ok? Scarlett: I guess it was acceptable for them to pretend to be another race and interact with us. As to why that was fine, I dont know." Cid: Also, one more detail I need to get straight. You said dragons can change their form. Are you saying dragons are shapeshifters? Scarlett just shrugged. Scarlett: I dont know if all dragons are, but my teacher was. When I first met him, he appeared to me as a human with red lizard-like eyes. A trait that most would assume came from a mutation. It was only later that he revealed to me that he was a dragon, and what he really looked like. She said as she took a sip from her teacup. There was a pause in the conversation and Cid just sat there, processing. He had just heard a series of bombshell information. It was the kind of info that would completely redefine much of what people knew about ancient history and the world. There were still countless more questions he wanted to ask about dragons, but remembered that he was supposed to be asking questions about Scarlett. Cid: So when your teacher left, was that a factor in the development of your trust issues, from a feeling of abandonment? Scarlett smiled. Scarlett: Look at you. And here you said you''re not a therapist. Cid: I''m not, and the question still stands, he said, as he rolled his eyes. Scarlett: Honestly, you might be right. He made me promise not to tell anyone about him. I really dont know when, but I stopped caring about keeping that promise. Could it be resentment from when he left? It could be at least a contributing factor. Cid: I see. Anyways, after your teacher left you, what did you do after? Scarlett: Right. After he left, some time went by before I could leave my little farming town. It was quite easy for me, since I had little attachment to that place. No parents and an aunt that didnt really want me. Cid: Wait, before you keep going. You never told me where you''re from. Scarlett: You wouldn''t know it, especially not now. It was in the Gix Empire, now known as the Warring States. The Warring States was another thing that Cid did not know a lot about. He knew that it used to be an empire that controlled almost half the continent in the past. Now it''s a series of warring states stuck in a perpetual civil war, with borders that were constantly changing from the fighting. The conflict had been going on for decades now, with only brief moments of cease fire before the fighting would resume. The few people that he had met from there have all been refugees, fleeing the conflict. So he could imagine what the situation might have been like for Scarlett when she came here. Cid: Oh, damn. Sorry about that. Scarlett: Dont worry about it. I did say I had little attachment to that place. Anyways, I left for Graheel and got into the Celestial Eye college. After I graduated, I managed to climb the college hierarchy and eventually became a professor here. My study was of ancient & lost civilizations at the time. Cid: Really? I never heard about that. Youd think that would be something that would come up in my black magic class. Especially someone who became an archmage from the Celestial Eye college. Of the seven Colleges, the Celestial Eye was known to be the most prestigious of them all. It was difficult to get in and graduate with full degrees from. Those who did, would become some of the most influential people in the world of mages. Many of the archmages of today and in the past were also once students of this college. Scarlett: They probably conveniently leave that detail out when they teach about me. Its probably embarrassing for them that I came out of that institution, only to become one of the most infamous black mages. Cid: Yeah, about that. Why did you go bad? What was the turning point? There was an uncomfortable long silence that followed from Cids question. A nervous sweat started to form on the back of Cid''s neck. He began to wonder if this was somehow linked to her trauma she was talking about. Cid: You know what, forget about it. If you dont want to say, thats OK. Scarlett: No. Thats fine. I need to talk about it. Just give me a minute. Scarlett stared at the table in silence. Digging up those memories in her mind made her tremble. She just wanted to forget about them, pretend that event never happened, but she needed to tell this story, for herself, and her new to be disciple. Looking up, she saw Cid sitting there waiting patiently. She then took a big gulp of her tea and exhaled deeply before speaking. Scarlett: It was thirteen, maybe fourteen years ago? I was still a professor at the college back then. I had made an expedition to an ancient site north in the Wildlands, it was just me and my eight other disciples that went. It was there that everything changed and went wrong. She said with a slight tremor in her voice. Chapter 10 - A humid Day in Forsaken Lands Thirteen and half years ago in a forgotten forest of the Wildlands. Scarlett was sitting in a tent looking over documents. It was hot, almost unbearably so. Scarlett had thought that the further you went north, the colder it gets. Yet, it felt like it was 40C (105F). She was covered in sweat and felt gross. It was times like these that she wished she was a cryomancer. But, as miserable as she was, she still couldnt be entirely displeased. Years of research had paid out, and led her to the potentially greatest archaeological discovery of the century. Scarlett had managed to combine a bunch of old research papers and ancient records to find an ancient location. It led her to an ancient pyramid-like structure which laid just outside her tent. The structure was well over 300 meters (1000 feet) tall with an erratic design. Stone stairs were built into the side, leading to a chamber at the top. The chamber was a singular room with a runic circle carved in the center. Many tests were run on the circle in the chamber, but nothing could be determined about its function. The structure origins and purpose were unknown and its architecture defied current construction methods. The structure was too large and various major support pillars were too thin. Certain features of it twisted in such a strange way it should have collapsed in on itself long ago. Yet, it was in pristine condition and perfectly stable. Time and even nature was unable to reclaim this place. When Scarlett had found the structure in the forest, the tree line only came up to sixty feet away from the building. They first believed that it was a sign that other people must be living near-by. Both scarlet and her disciples looked around the area, but weeks went by with no signs of other people. It was common knowledge that no humans lived in the Wildlands, and it seemed to be holding true. The Wildlands are a vast stretch of uninhabited and unclaimed territory, residing in the northern part of the continent. There have been countless stories of communities trying to settle the territory before, only to face ruin by strange phenomena and horrible monsters. This has led to many superstitions about the place, causing people to actively avoid it. However, if that was true, who was maintaining that pyramid, who was cutting down the trees so they dont encroach, could it be something not human? Those were the questions that were plaguing her mind at the time, and she currently had only one hypothesis to explain them. Days prior, Scarlett had used her eyes of truth to examine the pyramid. It was like looking directly at the sun for her. There was so much aether infused into the structure that it overwhelmed her eyes. It left her blind for an hour. From there, she concluded that it was probably being maintained and held together with powerful unknown magic. Now she is currently trying to determine the function of the building. Which was proving difficult. Upon further examination, there were no additional rooms to the structure, only the one at the top. The few artifacts that were found near the site proved that people once lived here, but nothing else. There was no writing on the structures or any of the artifacts that would give her a clue about the nature of the ziggurat. Even the runic circle at the top didnt reveal any useful information. Scarlett needed to know. Was this a site of worship, a tomb, or a place to conduct lost rituals? The question ran through her mind. The records she was reading only indicated that this place was of great importance, and nothing else. It was vague and unhelpful in her current pursuit. Young Female student: Um, teacher, are you ok? Looking up from her paper stood her disciple Chelsie. Chelsie was a bright brown eyed young girl with similar red hair as scarlet. She was the least magically talented of all her disciples, but her enthusiasm and dedication were both infectious and admirable. When they first met, she had pestered Scarlett for weeks to take her on as a disciple. At the time, Scarlett was only looking at peoples arcane potential to determine whether she took them on. Chelsie was from the shroom pact college and had little arcane potential herself, so Scarlett didnt bother considering her, but as time went on, Chelsie would demonstrate her skills and contributions to the archeological field. What she lacked in magical prowess, she made up in every other way. Her knowledge and determination in the pursuit of recovering lost history was unmatched. Time after time, Scarlett would be impressed by Chelsie. Eventually out of respect, Scarlett would relent to the stubborn girl''s desire and take her on as her eighth disciple. Scarlett: Yeah. Everything is fine, well not really. These documents are not giving me any clues as to the purpose of this place. Chelsie: About that. I''ve managed to uncover more artifacts that we would like you to look at. As she said that, she pulled out a shard of clay that was carefully wrapped in some white cloth. The shard in question looked to be a part of a larger clayware, but the details would be impossible to tell from a single shard. Scarlett delicately picked up the shard and held it close to her face. From others'' perspective, she seemed to be just examining the artifact, in reality she was using her eyes of truth on the object. Ever since she was taught about the abilities of her eyes, she had practiced using them and developed a new function to the power. Her Teacher, Cinder, had the ability to see a glimpse of a person''s future, she however developed a different power. Hers was the power to see a glimpse of an inanimate object''s past. After a few seconds of focusing on the object, scarlet received a vision. She saw humanoid shadowy figures sitting around a blurry stone like table with a plain empty clay bowl on it. The vision was too distorted and only lasted a few seconds before Scarlett''s consciousness was brought back to reality. Scarlett sighed in disappointment. She couldn''t make out any useful information from that vision. The shard was likely part of that clay bowl she saw, as it was the only thing from her vision that wasn''t distorted. The more intact the object was the clearer the visions she could receive. Sadly, the shard was too small and damaged to receive any useful visions. She needed artifacts that were less damaged. Scarlett: I''m afraid its just a piece to a bowl. Chelsie: How can you tell? Scarlett: Just a gut feeling. She said as she shrugged. Scarlett''s eyes of truth had been extremely useful for her archaeological work, but she had kept the ability a secret from everyone. Anytime she made a claim about the history of an artifact, people would ask how she knew, she would then chalk it up to instinct. Scarlett: Also, look here. The shard is slightly concave. So, it was likely a vessel of some kind. She said as she held out the shard to her disciple to show her. Chelsie: Ah. I see, you''re right. This further proves that people once lived here. Scarlett: Well, that was a given. Weve already come across other artifacts like this one," she said dismissively. Chelsie could sense the disappointment in her teacher and spoke up. Chelsie: Come now teacher. We shouldn''t discount any artifact we find. It might not be the most exciting thing, but its still part of our history. Scarlett: You''re right. Please catalog this and store it with the other artifacts we uncovered. She said as she handed the shard to her student. Chelsie: Ok. Before I go, how has the research gone on the ziggurat? Scarlett sighed again. Scarlett: I''m afraid I''m no closer to discovering its purpose now, than I was a week ago. Chelsie: Dont worry. I''m sure youll figure it out soon." Scarlett: I hope so. We only have a week left before we have to leave. Chelsie: Do we really have to go so soon? Scarlett shook her head. Scarlett: We only brought enough food to last us a month and were two and half weeks in already. We also need to make sure we have enough food for the journey back, and it would be too dangerous for us to forage for more. No, were going to have to finish the dig this week. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Chelsie: In that case, can I look over your research with you? I might be able to help you figure out the ziggurat faster. The roar of creatures and the yelling of Scarlett''s disciples interrupted her response. Scarlett: Hold that thought. She said as she rushed out of her tent toward the noise. Scarlett looked around and saw off into the distance near the tree line a large white furred gorilla creature with a scorpion tail. It stood over 14 feet (4.2 Meters) tall on all fours. Her students were surrounding it while keeping their distance. They fired all kinds of ranged spells at it and when it got too close, her disciples would use mobility magic to quickly get away from it. Their attack unfortunately didnt seem to be doing that much damage and was only annoying the creature. Off in the corner, away from the combat, were more of her students looking after another that was injured and bleeding from the arm. Iwan: We cant keep this up! Jere: Go get master Scarlett! Ill hold it off. The one who shouted out was Jere Idowu. He was the most talented and combat capable of the group. He however, had never seen or fought such a creature before that was capable of taking so many hits from his spells. His experience and instinct told him that he didnt stand a chance. Knowing this, he opted to keep it distracted until his teacher showed up. The monster began to charge toward Jere as the other began to retreat. He then quickly released a bolt of lightning from his hand onto the creature. As soon as it hit the energy arched off the creature and exploded, turning up a bunch of dust and obscuring his vision. Jere could see the outline of the creature through the cloud of dust, and it was still moving towards him. He then clapped his hands together and a wall of ice burst through the ground. With the ice wall interposed between him and the creature, he then encased himself in electricity and shot himself away from the wall without turning his back from his foe. He then landed 100 meters (110 yards) away in seconds. The creature then effortlessly smashed its way through the ice wall and continued to charge towards Jere. Jere: Shit!Shit!Shit! Nothing was working. The spells he used didnt damage it or even slow it down. He had the fastest mobility magic, but couldn''t be continuously used. It was only a matter of time before the creature would catch him and tear him limb from limb. He did the only thing he could do. He turned his back to the creature and began to book it. He needed just a minute, then he could use the flash jump spell again to put more distance between them. After running for a little bit he turned his head and saw that the creature was almost upon him. It then reaches out its hand to grab Jere. Oh shit. I''m so dead. Where his last thoughts before something painfully hot grabbed him by the waist and forcefully pulled him out of reach of the creature. He was then pulled through the air hundreds of meters towards scarlet with rope made of fire. Scarlett had used the flame whip spell to wrap around Jere and pulled him towards herself. This was an offensive spell and was not used to save people in such matters, but she was careful not to burn Jere too much. Jere landed on his stomach beside Scarlett with his clothes slightly singed. He then quickly got up to address his teacher. Jere: Thank the light. I thought I was a goner there. Scarlett: Not now, Jere. Stand back and let me handle this. The gorilla creature stood there and glared menacingly at scarlet with its bloodshot eyes. It wasnt charging at scarlet with reckless abandonment like it did with Jere. The creature was being cautious, its instincts warning of the danger Scarlett posed. The gorilla wiped its scorpion tail against the ground and roared while banging its chest like a drum. The act seemed like some sort of primitive way of announcing a challenge, or maybe it was a call for help, either way, Scarlet wasn''t going to wait to find out. Quickly, and without announcement, Scarlett snapped her finger and a pillar of fire burst out from underneath the creature. The monster screamed out in pain, surprising Scarlett. It wasn''t the scream that surprised her, but the fact it wasn''t already dead. Her flame pillar was hot enough to turn steel into liquid in seconds, and kill people quicker still, yet the creature was still whole and could scream out in pain. The gorilla ran out of the fire pillar, rushing towards scarlet. Scarlett barraged the creature with a variety of fire based spells. Unlike her students, there were noticeable signs of damage from her attacks. Fur was being burned away and its skin was blistering and turning black in places. Her attacks were managing to slow it down, but not completely stop it. Scarlett: Tch. Fine you''re tough, I''ll give you that, but how tough are you on the inside? She waved her hand and a stream of fire shot forth towards the raging creature. The spell zigzagged through the air and left a trail of fire that looked similar to a snake. It flew directly into the gorilla''s open mouth and stopped its advance. It grabbed its throat and would have screamed in pain again, but the fire had damaged its vocal chords. Its stomach started to bulge and glow an ominous orange. Before anyone could analyze what Scarlet had done, she snapped her finger again and the creature''s gut rapidly began to expand in size. It disturbingly looked like a balloon that was filled with too much gas, and just like that it popped. A spectacular explosion occurred. Blood and guts were sent everywhere. At the center of it was the gorilla creature with a void where its abdomen used to be, collapsed right in front of Scarlett. Jere: Holy shit. I know I''ve said this before, but you''re scary as fuck sometimes. Scarlett: Thanks? I''ll take that as a weird compliment. Now, does anyone care to explain to me what happened? She said as she turned to Jere and her disciples that were gathering around her. Jere: Dont look at me. Iwan was the first to step up and explain. Iwan: It was Rana. Her and Tamara went into the woods and that thing chased us back to the camp. Rana: Dont put this on us. It was your idea Iwan. Iwan: Only because you pushed me into it. Scarlett: Enough. Before this turns into a he said she said argument, tell me exactly from the beginning what happened. There was a pause as Scarlet student''s looked between each other. Rana: Iwan said he saw some strange lights early in the morning in the forest. The three of us decided to go and see the cause. Scarlett: You went by yourselves, without telling anyone? There was another awkward pause before Rana spoke again. Rana: Yes. You were so focused on the ziggurat, we didnt want to trouble you. Scarlett: That''s no excuse. You should have told me. She said as she shook her head. So, what happened after that? Rana: We explored the area, but didnt find the source of the light. As we were looking around we were ambushed by that creature. There was look of concern from scarlet Scarlett: Did any of you get hurt when it attacked you? Rana: Not seriously. Just a few minor cuts on Tamara arm. We then tried to fight it, but nothing we did worked, so we ran back to the camp. From there Jere and the others tried to kite the creature until you showed up. Jere: "So you''re telling me, you guys wandered into the woods without telling anyone? Do you know how insane that sounds?" Tamara: Its not like we went that far. She said in protest while holding her injured arm. Jere: Did you forget where we are? This is the Wildlands, the most dangerous place in the world. Anywhere else in the world and I might have agreed with you. Tamara: So we should just sit around twirling our thumbs without even trying to solve the mystery of the place? How many weeks have we been here, yet we''re no closer to understanding the history of the place. Jere: So you''re going to throw away your life He was interrupted before he could finish his sentence. Scarlett: Enough. She said sternly. I get your point Tamara. Weve made little to no progress and that fault ultimately lies with me." Jere: Teacher Jere was about to defend his teacher. Scarlett: But, Jere is also right. Its dangerous here and your lives are more important to me than any artifacts we uncover. Her students that had wandered off the site had their heads down in shame. Scarlett: There wont be any punishment, but no one is to wander off site. Is that clear? Her disciples present all nodded their heads. Scarlett: Good. I cant protect you if you''re too far away from me. She then turned towards Jere, examining the burns around his waist where she used a flame whip to pull him. Scarlett: Can someone get me a first aid kit? She yelled out to her other disciples. Her disciples scattered at her command to get what she asked for, leaving Jere and Scarlett by themselves. Jere: Dont worry. Its notOW! Scarlett had interrupted him by poking at his abdomen. Scarlett: No, its pretty bad. You might be permanently disfigured. Jere: What, really?! He said in a panic. Scarlett: Nah. Just wanted to get you going. Jere: Come on. Why are you trying to make me worry like that? Scarlett: To give you a sense of what I felt when I saw you running from that creature. There was an awkward pause between them after Scarlett had made that comment, before she spoke again. Scarlett: Why did you try to take it on by yourself? Jere: Nothing we tried worked and we needed to keep it distracted. Scarlett: You would have had an easier time distracting it as a group than alone. Jere: Sure, but if someone makes a mistake the whole group dies. Scarlett: So rather than risk the whole group, you would just risk yourself. You''re such an idiot. Its what I like about you, but its also what''s going to get you killed. Jere: Yeesh. Why ya gotta say it like that. Scarlett: Because its true, and maybe it will get you to stop and think every once in a while. Jere, you have a little sister and brother waiting for you back home. How do you think theyll feel when their big brother doesn''t come back. Jere lowered his head with a pained expression on it. Scarlett: Starting to sink in now, isnt it. Jere, if you learn nothing else on this trip, I hope you learn to rely on and trust me and the others. Jere: I-Ill try. Scarlett: Good. They sat together with Scarlett looking at his wounds for a few more minutes before Rana came back with a first aid kit. Scarlett would then go on to treat Jeres'' burns with Ranas help. After Jere''s burns were treated, the day went on as normal. ?????????????????? Later that night. A strange light appeared near the top of the ziggurat. Both a beacon and trap. The workings of a ravenous beast. Its hunger went unfulfilled. A hunger that was becoming malevolent and murderous. Something or someone would soon die to satiate this desire. This would continue to go unnoticed by the archmage Scarlett for three more days. Chapter 11 - Disciples and Theories
Nearly a day and a half had gone by since the attack. Scarlett and Chelsie were inside a tent sitting around a table looking through several documents. The interior was sparse and illuminated by a simple lantern that hung in the center of the tent. Chelsie was looking through some documents intensely before she put them down and looked at Scarlett. Chelsie: Teacher, I have a question. Scarlett: What is it? She said without looking away from the documents in front of her. Chelsie: I was just thinking, its strange that we havent found any remains. There are all kinds of artifacts to denote some civilization existed here at some point, but why no remains. I think that might help us with the investigation if we find out. It was true. They had found tools and pottery, but no remains, not even animal bones. If a civilization did exist here, there should have been something. Scarlett: Hmm. A fair observation, but I''m afraid it is not a good lead to pursue. Chelsie: Really, why? Scarlett: Have you read all the reports that were available about the Wildlands? Chelsie: Obviously not. There are thousands of years worth of recorded history about it. How is anybody supposed to read all that? Scarlett Fair enough, but have you at least seen the report about the Man Eating Mist. Chelsie: Cant say that I have. What is it? It sounds creepy. Scarlett: There are eyewitness reports of a strange mist that exists here in the Wildlands. It said any creature that got too close to the mist had their flesh and bone dissolve into liquid. Witnesses wrote about watching their friends melting, leaving behind only the clothes and bloody puddles. Chelsie''s face had gone pale. She was clearly disturbed by the information she was being told. Chelsie: S-such a thing doesn''t really exist, does it? Scarlett: I dont know. It came up in at least three separate records Ive read, so I''m inclined to believe it, she said completely deadpan. Chelsie: How can such a thing exist? Scarlett: The records might be mistaken. It could just be a creature that hides in the mist and eats its prey by melting their bodies. If such a creature hides in the mist, it would be very easy for no one to see it. Chelsie: That is not making me feel any better, she said looking at her teacher skeptically. Scarlett: Sorry about that. Anyways, I assume that if there were any bodies we could exhume, they would have been consumed by that mist already. Chelsie: We havent come across any mist or evidence of it. Are you sure it would consume the remains? Scarlett: I''m not sure. I''m working off guesses right now; keep in mind, the eyewitness records happened not too far from where we are. So, I''m operating off the assumption that its probably been to this place at some point. Chelsie froze when she heard that. A cold sweat started to form at the back of her neck from the terror of imagining such an existence may not be too far away. If the wind was to blow that mist towards their camp, she had no idea how they would survive. There was no way they could out run such a force, even with the mobility magic at their disposal. It was possibly the first time Chelsie finally comprehended the extent of the dangers of this place. Scarlett: Anyways, looking for remains is usually a good idea, just not in this situation. So rather than spend our time looking for bodies that may or may not be there, I think thatOh. Maybe I shouldn''t have said anything. She said as she looked up from her papers towards Chelsie. Scarlett had taken note of her disciple''s current distressed state. Chelsie herself was silently quaking from fear. Chelsie: No, that''s OK. We all knew the risk. Scarlett: Your reaction indicates otherwise. This is why I told you all to stay in Graheel. Chelsie: How could we let you come here by yourself? Scarlett: Its easier to protect myself than a group. Take that monster I killed earlier, it would''ve killed Jere if I was a second too late, but if I was by myself that would have never happened. Chelsie: What if you were attacked in your sleep, then what? You can''t do everything by yourself. Your skills and pyromancy cant fix every problem. Scarlett: I suppose, but most problems can be fixed with fire. Chelsie: Hows that working for the ziggurat research? Scarlett clicked her tongue and then sighed. Scarlett: Your tongue is as sharp as ever. Shouldnt have brought that up. Weve already had this argument, and you''re all here now, so what''s done is done. Scarlett put down the documents she was holding and slumped back into her chair. Scarlett: Let''s take a break for now and talk about something not so serious. Chelsie followed suit and began to relax herself. Chelsie: Oh, OK. Um, how about that weather? she said, unsure what to talk about. Scarlett: Forget that. Who wants to talk about the weather. I want to know if you asked Jere out yet. Chelsie: M-miss S-scarlet! Why would you say that? she said with slight panic. Scarlett: Come on. I''ve seen the way you look at him, and the way you talk about him. It is so obvious. Chelsie: W-was it really that obvious? Scarlett: Yeah. Pretty much everyone knows you have the hots for Jere, with the exception of Jere himself. Chelsie: E-everyone k-knows!?! she said, as her face turned beet red with embarrassment. She felt so embarrassed that she just wanted to die, as she buried her face in her palms. Scarlett: Aww. You''re so cute when you''re all embarrassed like that. Chelsie: C-can you please stop teasing me. Scarlett: Ill stop teasing when you finally ask that boy out. Chelsie: A-as if its that easy. Scarlett: Sure its easy. Just go up to him and ask if he wants to go on a date with you. Chelsie: Please stop. How can you play with a girl''s heart like this? she said, becoming frustrated with her teacher mocking her. Scarlett: OK, calm down. I wasn''t teasing you there. I was serious. You should just go up to him and ask if he would go on a date with you. Chelsie: You were serious? Scarlett: Yup. Chelsie: That''s terrible advice! she yelled out. Scarlett: Wha Chelsie: You shouldnt just ask outright. We should take it slow. Ask him if he wants to go to a restaurant or a show, slowly easing into things, and then ask him to make it official. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Scarlett: Hm. As far as I remember, you never had a boyfriend before, so why do you know this? Unless, you read that in a book? Scarlett looked at Chelsie''s face intensely for any indication of the validity of her comments. Her face was still a bit red and appeared quite unhappy. In her left eye, Scarlett noticed the ever so slightest twitch. Scarlett: Oh my god! You totally did get it from a book! What book was it, dating for dummies! Ha ha ha, she said while cackling like a hyena. Chelsie: Oh, come off it. If you''re such a master of dating, tell me how many times your blunt approach worked. Scarlett: Honestly, none. Chelsie: Uh ah. I figured. Scarlett: It''s more so because I''ve never tried. I have yet to find anyone that interests me. Chelsie: Oh, sure, she said, incredibly sarcastically while rolling her eyes. She clearly didnt believe in Scarlett. Scarlett: Girl, I really dont care if you believe me or not. I dont lack enough self confidence to care what others think. Something I think you should do for yourself. It would keep you from wasting your time by taking a slow approach with Jere. He is too dumb to put two and two together. He wont realize you''re trying to date him, unless you ask him directly. Chelsie: You know what, I''m done. I never agreed to talk about my love life with you. I''m going to bed. She said as she stomped out of the scarlet tent. Once Scarlett was alone she let out a deep sigh. Maybe I pushed her too hard. I think both of them would be a perfect match. Chelsie would balance out Jere''s stupidity, keeping him from doing something really stupid, and Jere would soften Chelsie so she wasn''t so serious all the time. Oh well, I guess you cant force these things. You have to let them happen naturally. Scarlett quietly thought to herself. After contemplating her disciples'' relationship, Scarlett decides to do a quick perimeter check around their camp before going to bed herself. She then left her tent and walked around the edge of their camp while checking the traps she had placed. The recent monster attack had put everyone on edge, so Scarlett had put up extra traps to ease some of her disciples'' fears. With the exception of yesterday, no creature had attacked their camp directly before. Scarlett herself was convinced that no creature would attack them as long as no one ventured into the forest and drew them back, like what Rana and her group had done. As she was examining the trap, she noticed that someone was sitting by the bonfire in the middle of their camp. Interested to know which of her disciples were still awake at this late hour, she approached the individual from behind and placed her hand on their shoulder, and as she did, the person turned their head towards her. For a brief moment, Scarlett thought she saw the face of a skeleton-like figure with hollowed eye sockets looking at her. She then pulled her hand back quickly in surprise, then looked again and saw Rana looking back at her. Rana: Teacher? Is everything ok? Scarlett: Yes Everything is ok. Scarlett was unsure of what she exactly saw in that brief moment, but assumed it was just a trick of the light. Rana: You dont look ok. You kinda looked shocked to me. Scarlett: If I''m honest, the way the bonfire shined on you from this angle made you look freaky, it kinda scared the shit out of me. Rana: Oh. Sorry about that, I guess. She said as she turned back to face the fire. Scarlett: You dont need to apologize. Scarlett then took a seat beside Rona in front of the fire. Scarlett: So watcha doing? Rana: "Just Sitting here thinking." Scarlett: What are you thinking about? There was a strained pause before Rana started speaking again. Rana: About yesterday. Scarlett: OhSo, do you want to talk about it? Rana: "Not really." Scarlett: It might help. There was another strained pause. Rana: I''m trying to figure out where I went wrong. Scarlett: Are you still beating yourself up about what happened yesterday? Rana clenched her fist and looked into the fire intensely before speaking. Rana: How can I not? I''m supposed to be a leader. Yet, I failed and put everyone in danger for nothing. Scarlett: This is about your family again, isn''t it. Scarlett and Rana had discussions like this before. Rana''s family, the Weis, were an old family of mages. They used to boast of having five members of their family be recognized as archmages in the past. In recent years, the Weis had failed to produce any exceptional mages from their bloodline. This hurt their reputation and caused some circle of nobles to question if the sun was finally setting on house Wei. That was until Rana was born. She was smart and talented at channeling aether. Rana had the making of a powerful mage and her parents tried to capitalize on it. This made her parents push her to achieve excellence in every aspect of her life, especially in her magic. A lot of responsibility and expectations had been placed upon Rana, and Scarlet could only imagine how suffocating it was. Because of this, everytime Rana had failed at anything she would go through a cycle of self loathing, caused by the pressure put on her by her family. Scarlett had told her many times to stop doing that. She would try to affirm that Rana was a talented mage, and even the greatest of mages mess up once in a while. Rana: No, it has nothing to do Scarlett: Then why are you so desperate to find artifacts? Rana: We''ve been here for weeks and hardly know anything about this place. I dont want us to go back to Graheel with nothing. Scarlett: We''re hardly going to go back with nothing. If nothing else, just discovering that this place exists is a major achievement. Rana: And you''re honestly saying you would be satisfied with just that. Scarlett: Yes. Because whether we find out the purpose of this place or not, I still see this as a success. Not everything in life can go perfectly, we need to appreciate the victories we do get. Rana: I see" She said she turned back to the fire, looking at it intensely. Scarlett: Look, Rana" Scarlett was interrupted. Rana: I know what you''re going to say, I''m focusing too much on what my parents think. You always say that, instead of helping me. She said dismissing her teacher. Scarlett: Rana, I will do everything I can to help you, but your parents'' expectations are too unrealistic. It takes most people half their lives to be recognized as an archmage. I dont understand how your parents expect you to become one at such a young age. Scarlett knew the main reason Rana had become her disciple was to become an archmage. Born out of a strange idea, that if one trained under an archmage they themselves would eventually become one. However, it was hardly that simple. One could only be recognized as an archmage if they were peerless in their ability, or if they possessed knowledge of the arcane that was also peerless. Either way, very few people were ever recognized, and the few who were, took most of their lifetime to achieve that. Rana believed she could achieve it in a few years working under Scarlett. Scarlett realized this a long time ago and was constantly trying to temper her disciples expectations. She knew that Rana was an excellent mage and would eventually receive recognition and go far in her career, but she needed to be more realistic about it. Rana: You''re one of the youngest archmages in history, so why do you keep saying I can''t become one. Scarlett: I became recognized as an archmage six years ago at forty. I would hardly call that young. And, I''m not saying you cant become one, I''m telling you to be patient. Maybe in ten or twenty years youll gain enough skills and knowledge to be recognized as one. Rana: Maybe if you would tell me your secrets on how you got powerful so quickly, I could become an archmage quicker. Scarlett: This again? I told you before that there is no secret, it''s just hard work. Rana was about to say something, but stopped and just looked away from her teacher and deeply sighed. Rana: "I''m going to bed," She said as she stood up and began to walk away from Scarlett. Scarlett: "Rana. When we get back to Graheel, well talk about this more." Rana: "Whatever " she said as she continued to her tent. Once alone, Scarlett let out a deep sigh. Great job Scarlett. You managed to piss off two disciples today. She quietly thought to herself. It was times like these that made Scarlett feel like a bad teacher. She was good at teaching her disciples about history or magic, but when it came to interpersonal relationships, she was lacking. Relationships were something she never needed to bother with in the past. Ever since she left her hometown, she only relied on herself to get to where she was in life. Never to rely on others or be relied on. While that may have worked for her, she knew it was not something she could expect of others. People cherished their relationships. It was what motivated them, what pushed them to be something in this world. It was something that constantly needed to be worked on. This was what her disciples taught her, something that she needed to get better at understanding. Scarlett decided that she would ask for some advice from her colleagues when she got back to Graheel. She needed to be better at communicating with her disciples. Scarlett sat alone for a few more minutes before she smothered out the fire and headed off to bed. ?????????????????? -Current day at the Cait house- Cid: It sounds like you were close to your disciples. Scarlett: I like to think I was. I''ve always been bad with relationships, so I don''t know for sure. Cid: Well, you make it sound like you were close, except for maybe that Rana person. Scarlett: No, I was close to Rana too. She was just being pushed a little too hard by her parents. Cid: Can you be pushed so hard you become delusional? Like, I understand the desire to become an archmage, but to believe you could become one with a couple years of training. Scarlett: That''s what I was trying to tell her, but she thought differently. She believed I was holding her back and lying to her. Cid: If she thought that, then she truly was delusional. Scarlett: She wouldnt have been that crazy to believe in a conspiracy like that. Cid: Wait, were you holding her back? Scarlett: I wasn''t holding her back, but I was lying to her. Every time she asked where I learned my magic from, or how I was able to know the history of an item from a glance, I would lie to her. I never told her that I was taught by a dragon or about my eyes of truth ability. I think she could tell I was hiding something from her, and that bred resentment. Cid: Why, though? Why would keeping secrets make her resent you? Scarlett: She probably thought I was hiding a way to increase her power, thus keeping her from becoming an archmage. Cid: But, none of those secrets wouldve helped her. Scarlett: Rana didnt know that. She just knew that I was not being honest with her. Its somewhat justified in why she was upset with me. Although, maybe I''m being too charitable. She said with a look of melancholy. The conversation came to a pause, leaving an uncomfortable silence between the two. Wanting to fill that silence, Cid spoke up to keep the conversation going. Cid: There is one thing I dont get. I know how this story ends and it doesnt make sense. That event was well documented and reported upon. From what I read, it paints you as an uncaring manipulator. But, the way you talk about your disciples sounds like you really cared for them. So, I dont understand. Why did you murder your disciples? Chapter 12 - What was gained -Fourteen years ago- It has been three days since the monster attacked Scarlett''s disciples. Scarlett woke up in a cold sweat in her tent. She had a terrible nightmare, but couldn''t recall what it was. She could only recall vague images of a circle carved into stone with blood in the center. She was starting to feel the time she spent here was weighing on her and was glad that they would be leaving in the next few days. She was still disappointed that there was no interesting information beyond the existence of this place, but she needed to hide these feelings from Rana. After what she said to Rana yesterday, Scarlett would feel hypocritical if she knew, so she needed to hide them. She went through her morning routine for the next hour and prepared for the day. Scarlett left her tent and saw Jere up early in the morning doing push ups. Jere was shirtless with sweat dripping off his well toned muscle. Hes such a health freak. Scarlett thought to herself. It was Jere''s morning ritual that made her feel a little guilty for not being more health conscious herself. Scarlett: Morning Jere. Trying to make us feel lazy as usual. She said with some sarcasm at the end. Jere: Good morning teacher. He said while grunting and continuing with his workout routine. It was on this trip that Scarlett realized how dedicated he was to exercising. It made her wonder if other people from the Lionheart college were all like this. The first time on the trip he started doing this, she teased him, only to be offer to work out with him. When she refused, he teased her about doing more exercise and being more health conscious. Scarlett: So, did you notice anything this morning? Jere: Nope. Its the same as it always is. The creatures wont approach this place. Scarlett: Huh. OK um, carry on with whatever you''re doing then. Jere: Teacher! Jere yelled out as he stood up. Scarlett: Jere, is something wrong? Jere: I just want to say that I''m sorry for what happened the other day. Scarlett: Oh that, dont wor Scarlett was interrupted by Jere. Jere: And I want to say that I don''t think what I did was wrong. Scarlett: Oh? Jere: I know that I don''t always think things through and you constantly scold me about it, but I''ve taken the time to think about what happened that day. Scarlett looked at Jere in anticipation at what he was about to say. Jere: You said that I shouldn''t run off by myself and trust you more, but I think I can do things alone because I trust you. Scarlett: Sigh. Jere, you''re talking nonsense again. Jere: "No, listen. I know I''m going to eventually mess up, but I know youll be there to save my butt every time. So, I shouldn''t be scared about what comes at me in the future. Its why I can put myself out there for other people. After all, I have one of the strongest archmages watching my back." He said with a smile. Scarlett: "Is that really the conclusion you came to?" she said as she put her hand on her forehead, covering her eyes. It looked as though Scarlett was disappointed with her disciple, but deep down she was feeling happy. Her student had taken her lesson to heart and actually thought things through for once, and the conclusion was beyond what she expected. He was actually relying on her, in his own way. Jere had shown Scarlett to a perspective she had never considered and was impressed. However, she didnt want to encourage recklessness. Scarlett: This just sounds like a nice way to excuse your rashness. Jere: No. Teacher, I''m trying to be sincere. Scarlett: And I accept your sincerity, but I still dont want you going around looking for trouble. So, when we get back to Graheel, you''re writing a ten page essay on the virtues of patience. Jere: What?!? You''re punishing me! Scarlett: Its not a punishment. Think of it more like training for your mind. Dont worry, I know that writing is not your strong suit, so I''m going to assign Chelsie to help you write it. Jere: Cmon, you''re going to drag Chelsie into this as well? Scarlett: Again, its not a punishment, so there is no due date. And who knows, if you both do a good job, I might even make you both an enchanted tool for your efforts. Jere: Wait, really? He said with great excitement. Jere was excited at the prospect of receiving an object enchanted by Scarlett. Many thought that it was Scarlett''s mastery over fire that made her an archmage, but it was actually her enchantments. Her ability to infuse aether into objects was unmatched, and those who knew about this flocked to her with countless requests to create enchanted tools. Jere: If you''re serious, can you make me an enchanted fire sword? Scarlett: Whoa there. You''re getting ahead of yourself. Write that essay first, then well talk. Jere: I cant believe she is actually going to give me a fire sword. I asked so many times in the past, but she just flat out rejected me, but now I''m actually getting one. He mumbled to himself while completely ignoring Scarlett. Scarlett: Um, hey there. Are you listening to me? A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Jere: Oh man. I gotta train my body to make sure it can handle such an awesome weapon. Ill need to double my training. Scarlett: Earth to Jere, I''m talking to you. Jere: Teacher! I gotta go run laps around Ziger-thingy! Talk to ya later! He yelled out in excitement. Jere immediately turned his back to Scarlett and kicked up dust, as he ran off into the distance to do laps around the ziggurat. Scarlett was left alone dumbfounded. Scarlett: Oh my god. Hes such a meathead. She said as she facepalmed. Outside of being a health nut and combat expert, hes so stupid, she mumbled to herself. Despite Jeres rashness, she was feeling pretty good about his effort. Jere was actually taking the things she told him and learning from it. She had also managed to create a situation to get Chelsie and Jere alone together, giving Chelsie a chance to hopefully ask him out properly. Scarlett: Hopefully, Chelsie will be a little less mad at me with this She then headed off to talk with her other disciples. Scarlet''s memory of beyond this point becomes a little fuzzy. At some point, she was offered a drink from someone she couldnt recall. It was then at that point, in her hazy memory she blacked out. ?????????????????? Scarlet eventually awoke to total darkness upon a cold stone floor. There was a sack covering her head and her legs and arms were bound. Calmly, she immediately tried to burn away her bindings, but couldn''t. There was something disrupting her aether. She could feel it. There was jinsil steel pressed against her neck. A material she was familiar with. Jinsil steel was the primary material used in law enforcement to capture mages. As long as enough of it was actively touching the flesh of a mage, the aether in their body would be dispersed harmlessly into the environment if they tried casting spells, rendering all spellcasting impossible. Wiggling around; she could feel that it wasn''t a proper jinsil collar. It felt like a bunch of random pieces of jinsil that was haphazardly tied together, then placed snugly around her neck. She pulled against her binding, trying to loosen them enough to free her hands. If she could get a hand free, she figured it wouldn''t be too hard to get the collar off and escape from wherever she was. The mental training that she did when she was young was paying off. She was calm and collective even in this distressing situation. Remember what Cinder taught you, Scarlett. When you''re in danger, always remain calm, or risk being consumed by your own flames. Scarlett repeatedly thought to herself. This was a mantra that was taught to her by her teacher. It was to help her control her flame magic, as the type of fire magic she used was very volatile to her own emotions. If she wasn''t focused when she was casting, she could hurt herself or others. But, that same training was also useful in keeping calm in stressful situations. She needed to get free. She was more worried about her disciples than herself at the moment. Once she was free, she would go to search for her disciples and make sure they were safe. Scarlett continued to pull and tugged against her binding. She had spent a good amount of time trying to loosen it before she heard the sound of footsteps. Based upon the intervals of the footsteps, she could tell that who or whatever was approaching was at least bipedal. They were still far away, but she could just barely hear them talking. She wasn''t able to hear the full context of what they were saying, but she managed to hear a few key words: risky, aether, ritual, and sacrifice. Sacrifice? Are my captors cultists? Scarlet thought to herself. As her captors got closer, they stopped talking to each other. She could hear one of the individuals approaching her. They grabbed her by the shoulder and made her sit upright, before they removed the sack on her head. Once the sack was removed from her head, she could see her captors. The only emotions she felt at that moment was shock. Nothing she had experienced in her life prepared her for this. She had expected her captors to be some sort of monsters she didnt know about, or other people that both her and disciples had missed when searching the area. Scarlett could even imagine assassins being sent after her. She knew plenty of people that would be happy if she just disappeared, and her presence in the Wildlands would give them the perfect opportunity to make it so. But, not in a million years would she have thought to see her disciples. Before her eyes were six of her disciples in weird makeshift robes. Standing in front of the group was Rana. She carried herself as if she was the leader. Scarlett: W-what''s going on? Rana: Dont worry, teacher. It will be all over soon. As Rana said this, the others began to surround Scarlett in a circle. Taking another look at her surroundings, she realized she was in the chamber at the top of the ziggurat. And, she was sitting in the runic circle at the center of the room. Scarlett: What are you doing? She demanded as she struggled against her restraints. None of her disciples said anything and began to chant in a language she had never heard before. Disciples: Ruo ecifircas rof woper peccat. As they began their chanting, the circle that Scarlett was sitting on began to glow. It fascinated her. She had experimented with this circle countless time and it never reacted to anything she did to it. But now, Scarlett could feel an intense amount of aether forming all around her in the air. She knew that whatever they were doing was incredibly powerful and potentially very dangerous. Not wanting to sit still and allow her disciples to finish their ritual, she tried to push herself out of the circle. As she came close to the edges, she was stopped by some sort of energy barrier that pushed her back towards the circle''s center. Scarlett landed on her back and then struggled to sit back up right. She was now trapped both physically and magically. Scarlett: Charlotte, Tamara, Severinus, Iwan, Waqar, Rana. Why are you all doing this? She pleaded with them, but they continued to ignore her and maintained their chant. When Scarlett''s pleading failed her, she thought that her only hope was to get the jinsil off her. If she could restore her magic, she could escape and stop whatever ritual they were conducting. Whatever plans she was about to concoct were interrupted by the feeling of her aether leaving her body. It felt similar to when she was casting magic. Whatever spell they were trying to cast, they were using Scarlett as a battery to power it. She could see the aether leave her body, thanks to her eyes of truth ability. The aether appeared as a wisp of glowing energy and started to spin in a circle above her head. It was fascinating and concerning for Scarlett. She had never seen aether move like that and wanted to know what the purpose of the spell was, but was also concerned that she was at the center of it. The aether just kept coming out of her until she was completely drained. At this point she thought the spell was done with her, but then she felt something else be pulled out of her. This was the moment she truly began to panic. The pain she felt was the worst thing she felt in her entire existence, it was indescribable. A fundamental part of her life and being was ripped violently out of her to power whatever damable ritual her disciples were conducting. Scarlett: P-please stop! You''re killing me! she desperately pleaded with tears running down her face from the pain. Some of the disciples hesitated for a second. They had never seen their teacher in such a vulnerable state and it gave them some pause, but they ultimately didnt stop their chanting. The ritual continued on. She screamed out in pain. Scarlett was in such pain that she couldn''t even sit upright anymore, and fell to her side. She layed suffering and dying, and for what, she did not know. She did not want to die, not like this, but she felt the approach of death and her life flashed before her eyes. All her memories came to her at once: meeting her aunt for the first time, her teacher Cinder teaching her magic, leaving her home town, attending Graheel university, writing her thesis, meeting and recruiting each of her disciples. In the echoes of her past, a single memory stood out to her. It was something that her teacher had told her all those years ago. It was the glimpse of her future he mentioned. Your decision will lead you to a crossroad with eight other people, and each will go their own way. What choices did I make to end up like this? What did I do wrong? She quietly and weakly weeped to herself. The world and her consciousness faded to black. Chapter 13 - What was lost
There was a feeling of cold water dripping onto Scarlett''s face, rousing her from her slumber. She felt awful. Her body felt heavy and her joints ached. There was a desire to return to her slumber, but more water continued to drip onto her face, making it impossible for her to go back to sleep. Opening her eyes she looked up to see where the water was coming from, but only saw darkness. Scarlett slowly picked herself up. Upon doing so, she felt the cold stone floor beneath her and she finally realized that she was not in her bed. She was in a dark chamber with stone rubble all around her. The only light in this chamber was the small amount that came from a single hole above her. While trying to sit up, she felt restraints pull against her wrist and ankles. It was then that she remembered what had happened. She wanted it to be one of the many nightmares she had while sleeping in the Wildlands, but between awakening in an unfamiliar environment and the feeling of rope around her limbs, she knew it was not that. It was a memory, a memory of her disciples trying to sacrifice her. The pain from that betrayal made her tear up a little, but she managed to swallow it back. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she then focused on her restraints. She worked on them for a few minutes and was able to slip one of her hands out of the bindings. From there, it was easy to untie her other hand and ankles. She then lastly untied the collar around her neck. Once it was off, she got a better look at the collar that was sealing her magic. From the little light that was in this chamber, she could tell that the Jinsil that was wrapped around her neck were pieces of equipment made of Jinsil that they had brought on the expedition. It was tied together to make a makeshift collar. She threw the collar on the ground and tried to create a flame in her hand. It was still quite dark in the chamber, and she was trying to make a light source to get a better view of where she was. Scarlet concentrated, but the aether wouldn''t flow into her hand like it normally did. Something was wrong. She was struggling to focus even the smallest amount of aether to produce any fire. When that ritual pulled out my aether, it must have damaged my aether veins. Scarlett thought to herself. Aether veins were special pathways in people that aether flowed through. It was what allowed one to gather and focus aether for spellcasting. If someone pushed or drew too much aether too quickly, it could damage them. Scarlett recalled the ritual forcefully drawing out her aether, and assumed that it must have damaged her aether veins in doing so. It would take her months and some expensive drugs, but she knew she could recover from this. However, she needed to get back to civilization first for that to be a possibility. She concentrated intensely for a minute. It took a great amount of effort, but she managed to gather enough aether to create the tiniest flame on the tip of one of her fingers. The flame was no bigger or brighter than a pocket lighter, but even this small light was hard for her to maintain. Beads of sweat were forming on Scarlett''s brow from the effort she was exerting to keep the little flame alight. Knowing that she couldn''t maintain the flame for very long, she did a quick look at her surroundings. The light had not revealed much she did not already know, except for the collapsed stone walls all around her. She was trapped. Entombed by her disciples somewhere. This was all she could make out before her flame started to fade. The flame Scarlett had made flickered then extinguished itself. She was left back in near complete darkness, except for the tiny amount of light that shined through that small hole. The hole was at the top of a nearby pile of stone bricks from a collapsed wall. It wouldnt be too difficult for someone to climb and reach the hole. Scarlett was unsure if she would be able to widen the hole enough for her to crawl through, but she had no other clear options so she started climbing. Slowly, she made her way up the stone pile. Halfway through, she put weight on her right foot and it dislodged one of the stone bricks she was pushing against. It caused her to slip and slide downward. She barely managed to catch herself. Unfazed by her fall, she corrected her footing and continued her climb. As she got closer to the ceiling, she could hear the sound of rain. Rain? So that''s where the water that dripped on me came from. It must be seeping through the ceiling. Thats good. It means the ceiling must be shallow where they buried me, this will make it easier for me to dig myself out. Scarlett thought to herself. Scarlett eventually got to the top of the pile of stones. She then stuck her face into the four inch hole in the ceiling. She was trying to see the area outside where she was buried, but the hole was facing upwards and only showed her gray skies. There were a bunch of bricks and random stone pieces lodged against each other around the hole. One by one, Scarlett would slowly and carefully pull and dislodge the stone. She was trying to widen the hole without causing the ceiling to collapse on her. By the sixth stone she removed, it caused a chain reaction of stones to fall out of place. Parts of the ceiling collapsed and crumbled into more stone bricks. One of the bricks above Scarlett dislodge and fell onto her back near her right shoulder. She yelled out in pain and lost her grip in her right hand. Scarlett slid downwards again, but this time she swung to the left side and was desperately clinging onto one of the protruding bricks with a single hand. The sudden shift in her position saved her, as more of the ceiling collapsed and tumbled down towards where Scarlett was previously holding onto. Little by little, the ceiling around the hole fell to pieces and rolled down the stone pile towards the floor of the chamber. Dust was stirred up in the chamber from the commotion, choking and blinding Scarlett. It took another few seconds before the stone stopped falling. Scarlett coughed to clear her throat from all the dust she breathed in. She then rubbed her eyes with the sleeve of her clothing, trying to get the dust out of them and clear her vision. Once she could see again, she looked around to assess the damage. The room was now much brighter. The hole above had been widened to five feet (1.5 meters) in diameter, allowing more light into the chamber. Looking down, the chamber was covered in more debris. It was already a mess when Scarlett woke up, but now it was even worse. While looking downward, Scarlett noticed something she had failed to see when she woke up. There were symbols on the ground. She had felt like she had seen them before. She scanned the floor with her eyes and was met with the markings of a familiar arcane circle. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. It then dawned on her that this wasn''t just any abandoned tomb she was in, it was a chamber at the top of the ziggurat. The place her traitorous disciples tried to sacrifice her. Thats impossible. The structure should be indestructible, yet its now in such disrepair. She thought to herself. Every stone of the ziggurat had a very powerful enchantment on it. It was the same enchantment that was holding it together and making it impossible to damage or modify. Days prior, Scarlett with all her magic and knowledge couldnt even move a single brick from the structure to analyze, now they were practically falling on her. Things werent making sense to her, but she knew dangling from the wall while staring at the ground wouldnt give her answers. So, she shifted and swung her body back onto the stone pile and resumed climbing. It was much harder this time to scale the stone. Her right shoulder was badly bruised from the rock that had fallen on her. Every time she tried to pull her weight up with her right arm, there was a sharp pain that shot through her shoulder and right side of her back. Through the pain, she eventually made it to the top and carefully pushed her body through the widened hole. She climbed out of the hole and was met with gray overcast and a light drizzle of rain. It was relieving to be out of that dark chamber, despite the dreary weather. From where she stood she looked around and her face turned pale with shock. How is this possible There was no doubt about it. She was at the very top of the ziggurat, but it was in ruins. The once pristine building was no more. Large chunks of the structure had collapsed in on itself, revealing chambers that Scarlett previously didnt know about. Some of the various support pillars she could see were still standing, but looked like they were about to crumble under the weight above them. Scarlett was now getting a sense of how precarious her situation was. Even from where she was standing, it didnt feel stable or safe. The whole structure could collapse any minute. She was extremely lucky that it didnt collapse on her while she was unconscious. Unable to rely on her magic to get her out of this situation, she ever so carefully and quietly climbed down the ziggurat. Afraid that any noise she made would cause the building around her to collapse. There was an intensity in her movements and actions, they were deliberate and accurate. She knew that one wrong step risked her being buried alive. Even with her caution, she accidentally dislodged a piece of the stonework and it fell to a lower level. When it happened she held her breath, scared that the ziggurat would fall apart and collapse around her. Luckily, nothing happened. Eventually, she safely made it to the bottom at the base of the structure. She had never felt so happy for her feet to be on solid ground. She breathed deeply with a sigh of relief as the rain gently fell upon her. As she stood there in the rain recovering from her ordeal, something caught the corner of her eye. She saw an old crone in a nearby puddle. Scarlett thought she was seeing things again. She felt that this place had been playing tricks on her mind ever since she came here. Carefully, she approached the puddle and leaned in to get a better look. In the puddle was an old crone with white hair and a wrinkled and weathered complexion. The woman was staring back at Scarlett with curiosity. Scarlett: What in the world She said as she unconsciously reached her hand out towards the puddle. As she did this, the crone matched her movements. When that happened, she shifted her focus to her own hand. Both the crone''s hand in the puddle and her own looked the exact same, weathered and wrinkly. Scarlett immediately reached up and touched her own face, the skin felt loose and wrinkly. The wizened crone she saw in the puddle was not a delusion or trick, just a simple reflection. She had failed to notice the change in her appearance till this moment. Scarlett somehow now appeared much older. Scarlett was only 46 years old, but now she looked well over 90. Her once vibrant red hair was now gray and ragged, her face sallow and weathered. It felt more than just a simple change in her appearance. She had somehow been aged, years of her life gone. The severity of what happened to her was tenfold from what she thought it was. Scarlett, in her years of study, had never heard of magic that could age someone. Such magics that could do so were entering the realm of gods. This was something that humans shouldnt be able to do. To be able to manipulate someone''s age was impossible, it invalidated fundamental laws of magic and the world. Yet, that ritual Rana performed may have done just that. Could the ancient civilization have discovered a way to manipulate their own age? She thought to herself as she shook in distress. Scarlett doubted that Rana herself had discovered a way of manipulating a person''s age. It was more likely that her former disciple had discovered some secret to the ziggurat before her. The magic ancient civilizations used was not well documented, so she thought that maybe it was lost magic. Regardless of how Rana did this, Scarlett was demoralized. She just sat there, looking at her reflection. As she did so, the sound of stone crumbling and shifting could be heard from some distance away. Another chunk of the Ziggurat had collapsed somewhere, but she didn''t care. Scarlett had a clear path of action to take before this, but now she was at a loss. There would be no known treatment for what was done to her. If it was the ziggurat that was responsible for aging her, it would also be the ziggurat that could reverse it. However, it wouldn''t be long before the ziggurat was gone and replaced with just a pile of benign stones. She doubted that the structure still had any power left to reverse this curse now. Any way for her to come back from this was currently crumbling right before her. She continued to sit there for what felt like an eternity to her. Eventually she would pick herself up. In a daze, she made her way towards the area where the camps were set up. On the surface she seemed composed, but she was anything but that. She felt like a machine just going through the motions. She didn''t know what she should be doing, so she continued with her original plan of getting back to civilization. Part of her original idea was to scour the campground they set up. She would be looking for any supplies that may have been left behind. Scarlett imagined that with one fewer person to help carry the supplies, they would have to leave some of them behind. Sure enough, she was right. The campground was mostly cleared, except for two tents that were still standing as the rain lightly fell upon them. Based on the shape of the tent, it looked like her former disciples didnt even bother to clear it out. She could still see the outline of some furniture pushed against one of the tarp walls. She slowly approached the front of one of the tents and parted the fabric that was covering the door. As she peered inside, the fake composure she was somehow maintaining crumbled. Scarlett: No no no no no no, please no! She begged as her eyes started to water. Lying on the ground in the tent before her in a pool of their own blood was Jere and Chelsie. They both were tied up and their necks were brutishly slashed open. Both of them were holding each other''s hand while crimson staining their clothing from the neck down. She rushed over to them with tears rolling down her face and her hands trembling. Scarlett frantically checked for their pulses and was desperately trying to perform first aid on them. She knew it wouldnt do any good, their faces were pale and drained of life. Anybody who saw the wound on their neck could tell that it was fatal. She did it anyway, hoping that some miracle would happen. Some time went by before she eventually stopped trying to apply aid. While leaning over her students, she cried. Tears rolled off of Scarlett and onto the faces of her students, all while they looked up at her with their lifeless eyes. These two were not present during that damnable ritual, and now Scarlett knew why. There were no words to describe the hopelessness she felt at this moment. A bitter sadness was all that filled her being. While the rain battered the tent, an old, defeated, broken Scarlett held her beloved students in her arms. Begging anything or anyone for it not to be real. She wanted nothing more than for this all to be another nightmare, and that she would soon wake up. Chapter 14 - What Remains -Back in the current day under the Cait house.- Cid: Thats. Was all he said, unable to finish what he was trying to say as his thoughts wondered. Scarlett: Not how it was reported, right? Surprising, isn''t it. She said with fake confidence, trying to cover up her sadness. Cid: No, that''s not it. It''s just awful. I don''t know how else to say it. He said sympathetically. Scarlett gazed at Cid. A deep sense of melancholy could be felt from her eyes. Scarlett: Well, that was a better response than what I got from people I thought were my friends. Cid: Really? Scarlett: They threw every accusation at me. Said I was a liar, a monster, or some crazy person pretending to be me. They didnt want to hear what I had to say, instead they chose to believe Rana and my other former disciples. Tell me Cid, what is the official story they teach at that college of what happened. Cid: TheyThey say you went to the Wildlands with your eight disciples and were intending to sacrifice them. You had discovered some ritual to empower yourself, but it required human sacrifice at the top of that mysterious structure. You managed to sacrifice two of your disciples before your six other disciples stopped you. They interrupted the ritual and the structure exploded with you in it. You were thought dead for a few years after that, until you appeared again. T-that is the basics of what I read. Scarlett: A lie to obfuscate the truth, created by Rana. It is what they told the university and everyone else about what happened. Thus, I was branded a criminal and monster to the rest of the world. Cid: If that is true, then you didnt murder your students. Scarlett: No. If you knew Jere and Chelsie, neither of them would have gone along with Rana''s plan. So, they needed to be silenced. They didnt think I had survived, so it was easy to frame me for their murder. Cid: I how. How could they bring themselves to murder their friends and colleagues? Scarlett: I-I dont know. I thought I knew them, but I never imagined they wouldcould do something like that. Cid: What was it even all for? Scarlett: I have my suspicions. Do you know what happened to my former disciples after they returned? Cid shook his head. Scarlett: Three of them become incredibly powerful high class mages, whose power was just below that of an archmage. The other three became actual archmages. They became the youngest arch mages in modern history, earning them the title of the Tri-mages. Cid: They became the three prodigies!!! he yelled out in surprise. Cid had heard about them. They were incredibly young archmages that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Their mastery of the arcane was incredible for their age. They had talent that only appeared once in a generation. So, for three of them to appear at once was truly considered extraordinary. As their fame grew, people started calling them the three prodigies, or the Tri-mages. Scarlet let out a deep sigh. Scarlett: Yup. They changed their names when they became archmages, so no one knows that they were once my disciples. They poisoned my reputation so much that they themselves didnt want to be associated with me. But, dont you find it strange? All of them became so powerful suddenly after what happened in the Wildlands. Cid closed his eyes briefly and thought about what Scarlett was saying. It wasn''t too hard for him to piece the information together and understand what Scarlett was implying. Cid: So, that part about a sacrificial ritual to empower oneself might be real. Except, you were the sacrifice instead of your former disciples. Scarlett: Exactly. I dont know how they discovered such a ritual, but it would explain the sudden increase in power. However, it is just a theory. I have no hard evidence to support it, just correlations and odd circumstances. Cid: It does sound plausible with everything you told me. There is however one detail you left out. There was a two year gap after that event. You disappeared and everyone thought you were dead. What were you exactly doing for those two years before you appeared again? Scarlett: Hmm. Not much to say about that. Let me answer your question with another. Do I look like an ancient hag who had their life force ripped out of them? Cid did another look over of Scarlett. Her face had sharp features and looked gorgeous. He recalled that she was supposedly almost pushing sixty in her age, but she looked like she was in her thirties. Even before she was labeled as a criminal, she was known for her exceptional beauty. If she wasn''t such a powerful mage, she could have easily become a famous model. Cid: No, but that doesn''t mean you can''t use something like a glamor to hide your real appearance. Scarlett: I assure you that there are no illusions on me. What you see is what I am. Cid had a moment of doubt to Scarlett''s honesty. It didnt make sense to him that she could look so young without illusions. It was not an unheard of practice for mages to hide the signs of aging with magic, but for her to hide that fact in this instance called into question her sincerity. In the end, Cid didnt push back too hard about this. It wouldnt have been the first time an older person lied about their age to him. Cid: Are you trying to imply that you spent those two years undoing the effects of that ritual? Scarlett: That is exactly what I''m saying. After I managed to crawl my way back to civilization from the Wildlands which, by the way, was so much fun without my magic. She said sarcastically while rolling her eyes. I spent those two years in hiding from my former friends and workers that backstabbed me, trying to undo the damage done to me. All while those traitors spread lies about what happened. Cid: That If what you say did happen, how do you even recover from something like that? Scarlett: A lot of research and trial and error, then after two years of failure, you''re left completely despondent. It was then and there that I found a solution to my problem. Cid: And what was it? There was a pause as Scarlett was in deep thought. She eventually responded after a few seconds. Scarlett: He helped me. Like he helped you. Cid: John he absent mindlessly blurted out. Cid had only a single interaction with John, but from that single interaction, he couldnt even begin to comprehend the depth of John''s ability. If there was anyone who could possibly help her, he believed it would be him. Scarlett: Thats right. It was John that saved me. He was the only one there when I needed someone the most. The only one who stood by me and cared, even as the whole world abandoned me. There is nothing that I can say or do to ever repay what hes done for me. She was just like me. Cid thought to himself. Her story sounded very relatable to Cid. The journey they took may have been different between the two of them, but the destination they ended at was the same. Right at Johns doorstep, burdened by the hopelessness of the world and their situation. Scarlett: Now, you know my life story and everything about me. I dont think there is anything left to say. Any secrets I have left, I only keep them from you because they''re not mine to share. Cid: You told me these stories to help work through your trauma. Did it help at all? You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Scarlett: I dont know. Honestly, I didn''t know what I expected. No, thats wrong. I was somehow hoping that miraculously the past wouldnt bother me anymore, and that I could start trusting and relying on people other than John. Too bad it couldn''t be that simple. She said with a pained smile. Cid: Its never simple, but I get it. You dont wanna get hurt again. Whod blame you. Its why you push people away, but I think you already know that. Scarlett: Yeah Cid: I cant speak for others that you work with, but I can promise here and now. I will never betray or harm you. So, you can at least trust me. He declared, trying to ease some of Scarlett''s anxieties Scarlett: I-I just cant. She said as her voice trembled. There was a moment of silence between the two of them. Scarlett clenched her fist until her knuckles were white while her lower lip quivered. She was trembling and trying to hold back her emotions, and was failing to do so. Scarlett: I dont want it to happen again. Cid, I dont know what hurts more. Being betrayed by the people I care about, or letting the ones I love die. She said as tears rolled down her face, ruining her makeup and mascara. Whatever image he previously had or was developing of Scarlet, there was one thing Cid was sure about. He didnt want this person to cry. Cid: Please, Ms Scarlett, dont cry! I''m sorry for upsetting you. he said in a panic. Scarlett was too upset to respond to what Cid was saying. She tried to wipe the tears off her face with the sleeves of her clothing, but more tears came. There was nothing that Cid could say or do, he could only wait anxiously while Scarlett cried. ?????????????????? Some time had gone by before Scarlett had calmed down enough to speak. Scarlett: I-Im sorry for showing you that. You shouldnt have to deal with me when I''m like that. Cid: No, thats OK, but is there anything I can do to make you OK with trusting me? Scarlett: Just give me some time. Maybe a month, or how about after you graduate. Then you can start working with me fully. Cid: That''s Scarlett: Dont worry, Ill still pay you. In the meantime, every week on this day you will come here and have tea with me and chat. It will help me get more comfortable about making you my disciple. Cid: Ok, we can take it slowwait. Did you say disciple? Scarlett: I did. I know it''s a bit more than just a helper, but John asked me to and I''m not one to refuse him. If Cid was to become Scarlett''s disciple, it meant her teaching him and looking out for his well being. Becoming a disciple was not a simple thing. In the magic world it meant working and learning under a more powerful mage. It was really only archmages that took on disciples, as everyone wanted to learn under them.There was a degree of prestige of being an archmage''s disciple. However, Scarlett wasn''t currently a conventional archmage. Cid would likely receive more infamy than prestige by being her disciple. Cid: Did he really? I thought I was going to be just a helper, not a disciple. Cid was beginning to see why Scarlett was so upset a little while ago. A disciple would be a hell lot more intimate than just a simple cleaner. Scarlett: He did. Now you see why I''m having such a hard time. I was betrayed by my disciples, and now he wants me to take you on as a disciple. Cid: Y-you dont have to make me your disciple. Scarlett: No, I do. He asked me to do so. Cid: Why? Why would he ask you to make me a disciple? Scarlett just shrugged. Scarlett: Who knows. Maybe it was to help me, or maybe it was for your benefit. Maybe, he sees something in you that neither of us can. He can be mysterious like that. Cid was speechless. He didnt know how to properly respond. There was a point in his life that he dreamed of becoming an archmage''s disciple, but now that it was happening, he wasn''t entirely happy about it. The amount of attention that it would attract to him would be dangerous. Right now all Cid wanted was to fly under the radar and complete his degree. It would become extremely difficult to do so if he became known as the scarlet witchs disciple. Then again, if it was found out that I was just working for the scarlet witch, not even as a disciple, it would be just as troublesome. Maybe I''ve already gone off the deep end at this point. Cid thought to himself. Cid: I take it I can''t refuse to be your disciple, if that''s the case, can we at least keep that a secret. I dont think I could handle the heat. Scarlett: Well, it''s not like I was going to announce this meeting to the world. Everything that was said between us will be confidential. Cid: Good. I dont know what I''d do if you were to announce to the world about making me your disciple. Scarlett: You do realize I''ve not been an official archmage for a while now. I dont announce things like that to the public anymore. Cid: Well, I don''t know how it works in the criminal world. Maybe youll announce it to the criminal underworld that you got a new disciple. Scarlett: I guess technically I will have to tell a few of my colleagues about you, but no. Theres no grand announcement about the scarlet witch getting a new disciple. Cid: Who exactly are you revealing my existence too? Scarlett: Ill introduce you to them at a later time. Anyways, here take this. She said as she pushed a small rectangular piece of paper towards Cid. Cid picked up the paper he was offered and gave it a quick look over. He was surprised by what it was. It was a blank check signed by someone named "Bruce Wayne". Cid: Whats this? Scarlett: Its your payment. Put whatever number you want on it and deposit it into your bank account. Keep in mind, Its only good for up to a hundred thousand Glint. Anything above and the banks wont process it. Cid: No, I mean Where did you get this? Whos Bruce Wayne? Scarlett: Did you really think I would give you a check with my name on it? No, it''s a fake name I created to allow me to move money through the banking system. So, dont worry about it. Just put down the amount for your tuition and any other stuff youll need. Also, be generous with the amount. I''m not going to be giving you these checks regularly, so max it out if you want, I don''t care. Cid hesitated for a moment. He wanted to ask more questions about this, worried about attracting the suspicion of the bank, but he relented and decided to just do as he was told. Scarlett was a wanted criminal. She had avoided arrest for over a decade, so he reasoned that Scarlett knew what she was doing and that he could just deposit the money without trouble. This however made Cid feel weird. He originally didnt want to receive such a large lump sum from John, but now was receiving it instead from Scarlett. If he wanted to avoid being dragged into such a dangerous world, he should have taken John''s original offer of paying for his school, but now he was going to be linked to the scarlet witch. I guess fate can be weird like this. You cant stop it when things start moving. He thought to himself. Cid: OK, I understand. He said as he filled in the blank check with the max amount of a hundred thousand Glint. Scarlett: Good. Also, if you have any special abilities, I suggest you hide them. Believe me, if the university finds out, they wont easily let you go at best, at worst some of the bastards might try to dissect you. Cid: Not saying that I have anything like that, but if I did, I wouldnt just be casually showing it off. I''m trying not to attract any more attention than I need to, so you dont need to scare me with warnings of dissections. Scarlett: Trust me. If you knew half the shit they do behind closed doors, being dissected would be half of your worries, but that''s good to know you''re trying to lay low. Oh, and it goes without saying, but for the love of light, dont show anyone anything you get from John. Upon hearing that, Cid instinctively moved his arm to try and feel the book he had hidden under his clothing. It was still there, secured in a secret pocket he had made. The book he had hidden was the very same book that he had received from John a week ago. It contained profound secrets and knowledge. Cid knew that it would be extremely dangerous if it was to fall into someone elses hands Cid: Yeahyou dont need to tell me that. Scarlet started intensely at Cid before she let out a long sigh. Scarlett: In case you get into any trouble, take this. She said as she took out what looked like a white porcelain bell and slid it across the table towards Cid. Cid picked up the bell that was passed to him and examined it. At first glance it looked to be made of porcelain, but it didnt feel like it was porcelain. It wasn''t cool to the touch and was too light. Upon closer inspection, Cid felt that it might actually be made of bone. Cid: What is this? Scarlett: If you get into any danger, channel some aether into it and ring the bell. Ill come running to help you out. Cid nodded. He immediately understood that the bell was some sort of device that could somehow contact Scarlett. He then pocketed the strange bell. Scarlett: With that, I guess we''re done here for today. Cid: Oh, OK. See you next week, I guess. Cid said his goodbyes and then awkwardly took his leave. There was nobody to help guide him back, so he needed to retrace his way back from memory. It was a good thing that it was just a straight line from where he was to where he descended from. Once he got to the stairwell, it took a few minutes for him to figure out how to open the secret door. He found a lever that was just out of sight and flipped it. When he did, the door at the top of the stairs opened. He ascended the stairs and was making his way back to the front of the store. As he was about to enter the main store floor, he took a deep breath. He was expecting to be stared down by the staff and questioned, especially by that Lise girl. As soon as he entered, he was met by the sight of a familiar red eyed individual talking to Lise. John: Oh, if it isn''t Cid. I didn''t know you came here. he said with a smile that somehow made Cid feel nervous. This was the last person he expected to meet here. Cid was starting to come around to Scarlett''s point of view when it came to John. It couldn''t be just coincidence. Chapter 15 - A Day In John’s New Life
John was sitting at his usual table while reading a book. It was another boring afternoon day at the Mystic Emporium. Most days were like this for him. Outside his regulars, he rarely would get new visitors. He was lucky if he got one new customer every ten months. Even his regulars didnt show up that much. Scarlett probably only visited him maybe once a month, and Fenny hadn''t shown up for some time. If he hadn''t become such good friends with his neighbors he would''ve been a lot more lonely, but like most people, they had day jobs. So, John didnt feel like disturbing them just to relieve his boredom. This place had become both a blessing and a curse for John. It provided him with everything he needed: clothing, food, money, tools, even the book he was reading, but in doing so he was left with nothing to do most days. He didnt need to work to live like others. It made him realize how much of his own life he used to dedicate to his old job before coming here. Yes, he didnt particularly like his old job, but it added structure to his life and it certainly was never truly boring when he was working. However, given the opportunity, hed probably stick with what he was currently doing. Whatever that was. Hed done this for almost fifteen years, in that time it didnt feel any clearer as to what this job was or even why he was doing this. He was offered a choice and chose to help people, but he didnt know why that entity wanted him to choose. What was the purpose? What did the entity get out of this? Was he doing a good job? How long was he supposed to do this? The question of how long made John particularly nervous. Over the years of living here, there had not been much physical change in John''s appearance in that time. Something that didnt go unnoticed by John. He suspected that the entity had done something to his body, evident by the fact he woke up in this world with red eyes that were not his original color. There was a point where he was worried that he would have to live forever at the whims of that entity. He eventually pushed such thoughts out of his mind a long time ago. Dwelling on it would only give him more anxiety. Whatever the case was, he was sure that hed been a positive influence in the people he met over the years. John signed. John: I guess it''s going to be another boring week. He said as he bent down to pet Lunar that was napping by his feet. Upon realizing he was being petted, Lunar pushed his head into John''s hand while wagging his tail in excitement. I suppose I shouldn''t say that. I did meet a new customer a little while ago. A student too. So theyll probably come around again. I wonder if I could rope him into game night with Fenny. As John was contemplating this his stomach growled. John: Oh, thats right. I skipped breakfast today. He said as he patted his stomach. He started to think about what he should make for lunch, and by that, he was thinking about what kind of food to manifest. Ever since all those years ago, hed mastered the weird quirk of this store. It was almost second nature for him to do it now. He didnt need to bother cooking anymore, he only needed to think about what food he wanted to eat and it would appear freshly cooked just out of his eyesight. The clean up was easy too. Not only could he make things appear in this store, but he could make things disappear too. Dirty dishes, a quick thought and a look away and poof, they were gone. It was incredibly convenient. As long as he was in this store he could get almost anything, and yet, he was starting to change his mind about manifesting food. John: You know what, let''s go out for lunch today. He said to himself. He could manifest some of the most decadent meals in the world, but something about eating at a restaurant made food taste better to him. He also believed that it was good to support local business. John put his book down and stood up. Lunar took notice and got up too, ready to follow. He walked to the front and flipped the sign hanging on the door to closed. Then he opened up the door and let Lunar out first before following behind. Once outside, he began to slowly walk down the street while examining the various restaurants and stores. John thought casually to himself about how much this place had changed over the years. When he first came here it was a complete dump, but ever since the establishment of the red-light district things had changed. Back then, new businesses started to open up in and around the red-light district. It brought more money to the area. People rallied together with blood, sweat, and tears to fix up the place. In a couple years, the east of Graheel had been rebuilt into a vibrant community. It was strange for John, that the heart of this community would be built around prostitution was something he would never have expected. Like many from the world that he originally grew up in, he heard the unsavory stories about prostitutes. He was apprehensive about them at first, but he got used to them after a while. Talking to the people that worked in the red-light district revealed to him that they were normal people trying to get by, just like anyone else. Those he talked to all seemed to be indifferent or enjoy working as sex workers, and who was he to question how someone decided to live. As he was walking, he was approached by a young man in his twenties. The man in question had ginger hair and wore blue overalls with a white t-shirt. He was carrying a large brown paper bag. John noticed the young man and greeted him. John: Hello, if it isnt Timmy. John knew this person. He was the son of a family of bakers that lived next door to him. Tim: Hello Mr Li. How are you doing? John: I''m doing fine. Its been awhile since we''ve seen each other, how''s your parents doing? Tim: Oh, yknow. Moms been really busy. Business has been so crazy lately. We actually ran out of yeast cause its been so busy, so I was just picking some up. He said as he gestured to the bag he was holding. John: Oh, well that''s good to hear. How''s your father? Feels like its been forever since I talked to him. Tim: Oh, um hes fine I guess. He said with a degree of uncertainty and slight nervousness. Um, hes been helping mom with the baking a lot, so that''s probably why you haven''t seen him for awhile. John could feel the anxiety coming from Tim when he talked about his Dad. For a while now, he knew that there was some sort of tension going on between them. Maybe if I could get those two alone together with me, I could help talk them through their issues. John thought while feeling confident about his counseling abilities. John: Well, when it slows down, you and your dad should come visit me. Ill treat you guys to some of my special snacks if you do. Tim: O-ohyeahU-um, d-definitely. He stuttered with an even greater degree of nervousness. Ah, a-anyway I gotta get going. I need to get this yeast to my mom. He said as quickly walked by John towards his family''s bakery. John let out a long sigh. He sensed that Tim had purposely ended the conversation. He always does that. Always avoiding any opportunity that I try to create to get him and his Dad alone with me. Oh well, I cant force it. John thought to himself. John felt a closeness towards Tim and his family and wanted to help them out. They were the first people he met in this world and had always been kind to him. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. John continued his walk for another fifteen minutes. He walked by all kinds of unique and interesting restaurants and bars, but he already had a destination for his lunch in mind. As he approached it, he was met with the familiar logo of a cat in the front window. It was the Cait Teahouse. The closest thing to a cafe around his area, and a place that reminded him of the greatest sin of this world. The fact that coffee, the life blood of coffeeholics, didnt exist here. Many concepts and aspects of this world overlapped with the previous world he was from, but the delicious beverage wasn''t one of them. While he could drink the elusive liquid at the Mystic Emporium, he wanted the atmosphere of a proper cafe along with his coffee. So, he could only do the next best thing and come here, and while coffee wasn''t tea, it was close enough for John. As he entered the tea house, he was greeted by the only customer that was currently in the store. A familiar mutant goat man sitting at a table near the entrance. Goatman: Ah, if it isn''t Mr Li. Its been awhile since I''ve seen ya. This was Thom. He was a mutant that had the head of a goat and body that was mostly human in appearance. He was someone John would see all the time at the teahouse and would sometimes make idle conversation with. Mutants were a weird concept for John to deal with. When he first met another mutant, he thought that they were a fantastical race that lived in this world, but in actuality they were just humans. Through some process that John wasn''t familiar with, people could mutate into all kinds of weird looking creatures. That process wasn''t exactly smiled upon by most people, as a result, there were many that treated mutants with a level of disdain, but not John. He had learned in his time talking to other mutants that one rarely chose to willingly become one, and it didnt make sense in John''s mind to direct any prejudice toward such people even if it was a choice, and especially when it wasn''t. So, through his best effort, he treated mutants with respect and decency like he would with anyone else. John: Hi Thom. Nice to see you too. Also, it hasn''t been that long. I literally saw you two days ago here. Thom: Was it now? Feels like its been a lot longer than that. He said as he chuckled. John''s stomach started to growl again. John: Anyways, I hate to end this chat, but I havent eaten anything yet today. Thom: Ok, dont let me keep ya. John continued past Thom towards the front counter. The two familiar waitresses that hes met countless times were working away. The waitress Lise stopped and moved behind the cash register to take his order. Lise: Hello Mr Li. What can I get you today? John: Black tea with double cream and sugar with a club sandwich thats toasted. Lise: Ok, you can take a seat and itll be done in She was interrupted by the sound of the door at the back of the store creaking open. Everyone in the store, including John, stopped what they were doing and turned their heads to stare at the green robed student that had emerged. John was the first to immediately recognize him. John: Oh, if it isn''t Cid. I didn''t know you came here. He said as he began to approach Cid. Cid: Mr Li. I didnt expect to see you here. He said, shocked to see John. John: "Yeah, a funny coincidence. I didnt think I''d meet you here either." Cid: Coincidenceright. So, why are you here? John: I meanits a tea house. So, I''m obviously here for tea. He said as he gave Cid a look of confusion. Cid looked flustered and unsure of what to say. John saw this as him being embarrassed about the silly question. John: The way you said that, suggests to me you yourself didnt come here for tea. Cid: Um, thats right. I came here to talk to that person you got me in contact with. John: Person I got you in contact with? He said as he rested his thumb on his chin and pondered what Cid meant for a few seconds. Oh wait, you mean Scarlett. Upon saying her name aloud, John failed to notice that Thom and the two waitresses, who were currently behind him, became extremely nervous and started looking around erratically. They were making sure no one else was around to hear this conversation. Cid: Yeah He said nervously as the three people behind John were giving him death glares. John: So, did it go well? Did you get the job? Cid: I did John: Oh, that''s good to hear. I knew that she would be able to help. Cid: Yeah She was not exactly someone I expected to work with. John: Fair enough. Her circumstances are unique, but dont worry. I''m sure shell treat you well. Also, if you want, we can sit down and chat about it or something else. Cid: Oh, um, nah. I gotta get back to my campus to study. He said slightly nervously while looking at the angry people behind John. John: Ok. Dont let me keep you from your studies, and be sure to come by and visit me when you''re not busy. Cid nodded and quickly walked by John and through the front door, departing the shop, all while being stared down by Thom and waitresses as he did so. Wait a minute. If Cid came here to talk to Scarlett, does that mean she is here too? John thought to himself. John: Hey Lise, did Miss Scarlett leave yet? He said as he turned to the waitress. Lise: Um, no, I think she is still here. She said as a nervous sweat was forming on the back of her neck. John: Oh, good. If she is still here maybe shell be open to chatting. She is in one of the private rooms, right? Can you tell me which one? Lise: NO! I mean She briefly paused to consider her next words. John gave her a confused look. Lise: The room shes in is booked for another thats coming soon, but I can set you two up in another room. She said with an awkward smile. John: Oh, thats ok. No need to go out of your way to give us a private room, besides there are plenty of empty tables out here. He said as he looked around at the empty store, with the exception of Thom. Lise: N-no, I insist. You''re a beloved regular and this is the least we can do. John: Well if you insist. he said as Lise gestured for him to follow her. John was then guided through the door at the back of the business and through a hallway to a room with a long table with chairs around it. The room was enclosed without windows and looked like a room for a business meeting. There were countless posters on the wall of popular actors and movies. John was quickly seated. Lise: Just give me a few minutes. Ill get your order and let Miss Scarlett know you''re here. She said as she quickly departed the room. John was then left alone in this room. This wasn''t the first time hes been offered a private room, and didnt particularly like it. He wanted the atmosphere of a coffee house, not feeling like he was about to attend a board meeting. So, he rarely took up the offer for the private rooms. He would have rejected the offer, but Lise seemed very insistent today to John. Its like they didnt want me sitting on the main store floor with Scarlett. I wonder why? He pondered to himself, while being completely clueless to Scarlett''s infamy. Lunar: Waah He squeaked out, trying to get Johns attention. John: Aww, do you want attention? He said as he bent down to pet Lunars head. The malamute would wag its tail with excitement. Lunar would quietly follow John just about everywhere, even into other stores. It was never a problem to do so, as he was so well behaved and many of the store owners didnt mind the dog''s presence. John even had conversations with other store owners that told him that they had found his dog endearing and loved his presence. After a few minutes of petting Lunar, the door to the room swung open and Scarlett entered with heavy breath. Scarlett: Sorry. I heard you wanted to talk to me and I rushed over. She said while breathing heavily. John: Um, you didnt need to rush. Its not like I was going anywhere. Scarlett: No, um. I mean She said before her thoughts were interrupted by Lise. Lise had pushed past Scarlett while holding a tray of food. The sudden appearance of the waitress in Scarletts vision surprised and flustered the former archmage. The waitress approached John and set the food she carried right in front of John. Lise: Heres your order Mr. Li. She said with a quick bow and turned to leave. As Lise turned her back to John, she stuck her tongue out at Scarlett to mock her. Scarlett in turn stared down the waitress intensely as she left. John was too focused on his food to notice the exchange and tensions between the two women. John took a quick sip of his tea before setting it back down. John: Why dont you sit down. He said as he gestured for her to sit. She nodded and quickly took a seat across from John. Once seated she quickly examined John before shifting her attention to Lunar. Scarlett: I see you brought Lunar with you. John: Yup. He pretty much follows me everywhere. He doesn''t like being alone. Lunar just stared quietly at her with his blue piercing eye for a few seconds. Eventually, the dog lost interest in Scarlett and walked towards a corner of the room before curling up into a ball for a nap. Scarlett never expressed it or told John, but his dog unnerved her. Something about its cold stare didnt sit well with Scarlett. Scarlett: Right So, did you want to talk about some sort of problem? John: No? Why would there be a problem? Scarlett let out a sigh of relief. In her mind she thought that John was here because of a mistake she had unknowingly made. This would be the first time since they met outside of his store, and Scarlett had misread that as a sign that she must have messed up really badly somehow. Scarlett: Oh, I''m sorry. I misunderstood. John: No worries. I just thought that we could finish the conversation we were having last week. I had to close up then, so we couldnt finish. Her overactive mind raced with the possibilities at the purpose of John''s presence that ranged from simple amusement to a grand conspiracy that she couldnt see, until it deviated way beyond anything that he said. The corners of Scarlett''s mouth curled up into a warm smile. Convinced that John was pleased with her and was rewarding her with his presence. Scarlett: I see. Well then, I need some input about Scarlett began to trail off about her research. John just sat listening while he began to reminisce about the first time he met her. Chapter 16 - Cornered Researcher -Twelve years ago- A year and half had gone by since Scarlett was betrayed. In that time she had been unable to undo the aging, and was also unable to completely recover her magic. Whatever was done to her, had done more than damage her aether veins. Even when she had healed them, she was only able to manifest a twelfth of her former power. She was weak, and was currently in hiding. Scarlett would now constantly wear a disguise and went by the name Lunarch in public. Her disguise looked nothing like she once did. Her appearance was that of an older blonde haired woman with green eyes, donning a simple gray midi shirtdress. Not too pretty, or ugly, just enough for her to appear average in every aspect to the unassuming. Currently, Scarlett was reading a large tome while disguised in a corner of a library. She was in the great library of Graheel, known as the Arcanium Archives. It was a repository for some of the oldest documentation on magic and arcane theory on the western continent. It was here that she was trying to research what had been done to her during her expedition to the Wildlands. The more noticeable aged features she had been cursed with were currently hidden under an illusion called a glamor. It was a type of powder that one could apply to the face to make oneself appear different. It was a very superficial and simple type of magic. Used commonly amongst many older mages to hide unwanted blemishes in the face. A little water was all it took to dispel the illusion, and anyone who was even moderately trained in the arcane arts could tell from a glance she was wearing a glamor. Scarlett: Damn it. She muttered to herself. There is nothing useful in this either. She said as she slammed the tome closed. Scarlett was scouring old tomes. In the years since that tragic event, she was searching for a way to repair the damage that was done to her. She was going through old records and documentation about ancient magic. She was looking for anything that could help her with condition, something that could restore her magic and youth. Librarian: Um, excuse me Miss, but the library is closing soon. Said the older looking gentleman who worked here. Scarlet didnt turn to face the librarian as she spoke. Scarlett: Ok. Ill be leaving right now then. She said before she stood up and packed up her things. Scarlett collected the papers she brought and put them into her messenger bag that she carried around everywhere. She left the tome on the table to be collected by the librarians as she got up and made her way to the entrance. The interior of the library was extravagant. Pictures and busts of famous scholars adorned the walls. The floor was polished stone and intrigued stone pillars held up the roof. Between the pillars were shelves that were at least thirty feet high, so high they were that it required special ladders to reach the books on the higher shelves. Flameless arcane orbs of light floated gently throughout space to illuminate every dark corner. The size and scale of the library was only matched by the one on the Graheel campus, or the Illumination archive in Lavall. Scarlett stopped by the receptionist''s desk on her way out. Scarlett: Hello. I would like to return this book. She said as she pulled the book out of her bag and handed it to the receptionist. The receptionist took the book and adjusted her glasses before looking at the cover. Receptionist: Lets see here. This is Phonk Therium of Spectrum Shifting. She said as she began to start typing away at the computer on her desk. Ok then. Ive marked it as returned for you Ms Lunarch. You should be good to borrow any other books in the future. Scarlett just nodded and took her leave of the library. She exited through the front of the building and walked down a series of stairs before she turned and looked at the grand library. It was not only large and extravagant in its design, it was also a testament, a monument to generation of collected knowledge. It was to be a beacon for scholars, a metaphor they made more literal by shooting a beam of light from the roof into the sky. This was a place she had visited countless times before for her research. Scarlett had never thought of it before now, but the place used to always feel so welcoming to her. Something she took for granted before, but now it was different. This place felt ominous now. If she made one wrong move and her identity was revealed, her chance to undo what was done to her would be lost. The story her traitorous disciples made up about her had already spread throughout Graheel and all the other union countries. If she was to reveal herself now, she wasn''t entirely sure she wouldnt be branded as a criminal and hunted down then jailed. One day she hoped that she could return to this place with her real name. She then quickly left the area and made her way towards the east side of Graheel. She did so by taking erratic paths and going through alleys. She did this to avoid being followed. She didnt want to have any run-ins with any unsavory people like she did in the past. She continued to make her way through the grimy streets of the east side. The place was still a complete mess like it always was. There was trash on the street and most of the buildings were boarded up or looked like they would soon collapse. It was the definition of a slum, but that was just fine for Scarlett. This place made it hard for people to find her. Eventually she made it to Eld street. For whatever reason, the conditions on Eld street were better than anywhere else on the east side. It wasn''t covered with as much trash as other streets on the east side, and had functioning businesses. Walking through the empty street, she eventually made it to her small apartment. The apartment was old and looked like it was in need of some renovations. It wasn''t the nicest place to live, but the building didnt look like it was going to collapse anytime soon. She quickly pulled out her key and unlocked the front door and entered. Her apartment was a single room with a tiny bathroom on the side. Other than a bed, table and chair, fridge, and oven, it was completely bare. It wasnt great, but it was enough for Scarlett to get by. Scarlett threw her bag to the side and went straight to the sink in the bathroom. She ran the water for a few seconds before grabbing a towel and wetting it under the tap. She then began to slowly wash her face with it, as she did, the glamor she applied was undone. Her appearance shifted from that of a middle aged woman with blond hair, to that of an old hag with gray hair. She looked deeply at the reflection into the mirror over the sink. The deep sunken eyes that looked back at her were sad and lost. There was severe dissociation from Scarlett. She didnt see the person in the mirror as herself, even as the realities of her situation would constantly reinforce itself. It was not that she simply appeared old, she was actually old. All the aches and pains one experienced with aging, she was experiencing. She had developed arthritis in her knees and it was painful some days for her to walk to the archive. Scarlett didnt want to look at her reflection and decided to head to bed and take her mind off things for a while. As she sat in her bed, there was loud banging on the door to her apartment. Stranger: Hey, is anyone there! Yelled out the voice of a gruff man. She didnt recognize the voice. Scarlett was just going to ignore and wait for the person at her door to leave, until she heard the voice of another man. Grunt: "We know you''re in there Scarlett! Come out! Our employer wants a word with you!" the man yelled out. Scarlett: Shit, she muttered under her breath. She grabbed her bag and things, then ran into the bathroom. She put everything off to the side and then closed the bathroom door. Scarlett then sat down on the ground with her back against the door. The door on the bathroom didnt have a lock, but the room was small enough that Scarlett could press her feet against the wall and pushed herself into the door to keep it shut. She sat there with a heavy breath. Waiting to see what the people outside her apartment would do. They continued to bang the door and called for her. Eventually, they stopped and Scarlett was about to give a sigh of relief, until she could hear the sound of smashing and wood splintering. They were breaking in. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. After several loud banging sounds Scarlett could hear the sound of one final bang and a door swinging violently open. She held her breath as she heard the footsteps of half a dozen people enter her apartment. Grunt: Where is she? Grunt2: Was she not here? Grunt3: Dont be stupid. I just saw her enter this apartment a few minutes ago. Grunt: She must be hiding then. Look around. Theres only so many places she could hide in this dump. Scarlett could hear the footsteps moving all around her apartment. She could hear the searching and flipping of the few pieces of furniture that was in her apartment. Eventually she heard footsteps approach the bathroom. When she heard this, she pushed herself against the door to keep it closed. The door knob above her head turned and she could feel someone trying to push the door open. Grunt2: Hey. This door aint opening. He yelled to the others. Grunt: Must be hiding in there then. She could hear more footsteps approach the bathroom. Once they got close enough, Scarlett muttered infernus and arcane runes started to glow around the frame of the bathroom door. Grunt: Whoa. What''s with theaaaaaahha, he screamed out in pain. More screams followed after the first person wailed out. The door behind her started to feel warm and an orange glow emanated from the small gap at the bottom of the bathroom door. She could hear sizzling and the sound of someone running around erratically. A burnt chemical smell along with the smell of burnt flesh started to waft into the bathroom Scarlett was in. After a few minutes it started to quiet down. Once the bathroom door was no longer warm to Scarlett''s touch, she slowly cracked the door open to look. Her apartment was now completely ruined. There was debris everywhere. Anything that was wooden in the apartment was now black and covered in soot. There were six charred corpses laid around the room. They were so disfigured that Scarlett wouldn''t have been able to identify them even if she knew who they were. The damage she had managed with her current power was impressive. Scarlett had lost most of her powers due to the events in the Wildlands, but she was still a master enchantress. Even if it was now impossible for her to fight someone head on, she could still set very powerful traps. There were only three problems with these traps in her mind. The first problem was that she couldnt adjust or set up traps on the fly, she needed time. The second was to ensure that anybody that came after her would be taken out by the trap, so she had to set it up for maximum lethality, but in doing so, it would cause a massive amount of damage to the surrounding area. The third was that she risked killing herself with her own trap. If she did not isolate herself in the bathroom before activating it, she would look like one of the many burnt corpses in her apartment right now. Scarlett was distraught at her current circumstance. This was the third time that this had happened to her, and the third time she ruined her apartment, forcing her to relocate. And this was particularly one of the nicer apartments that she would now have to vacate. She didnt know how they were finding her, or even who these people were. For the last year and a half since she had returned to Graheel, she had been stalked and hounded by random people. When she noticed that she was being followed, she was able to hide and relocate herself pretty easily before she could get into any altercation. It was only on rare occasions that it ended up in conflicts, forcing her to use her traps. There was a point when she thought it was just some petty criminals looking to find an easy mark and exploit her for money, but this has happened many times now. Also, the fact that these brutes knew her real name meant it was something much more. How did they know my name? She thought to herself. At this point, everyone thought that Scarlett was dead. The lie of her trying and failing to murder her disciples, ending with her death, had spread far and wide. No one thought she was alive anymore. Yet, these grunts called out her name. It was all very troubling for Scarlett. She immediately headed back into her bathroom and collected her things. She was preparing to move, even though she didnt really want to. This part of the east end was more livable than anywhere else, but the landlord she was renting from would not be impressed by the destruction she had caused to the building, so she now needed to find somewhere else to stay. It also wouldnt be smart to stay here. Whoever was after her seemed to be working as a group, which meant they would likely send more goons here. Just as she was about to leave, she decided to quickly search the bodies. She was looking for anything useful that managed to not burn up. Searching through the charred remains of her former pursuers, she managed to get a few coins that she could still use to buy some things. She did, however, manage to find the remains of a slightly singed piece of folded paper on one of them. This caught her attention. The blast trap she prepared had such an intense fire to it, it didnt make sense that something like paper would still remain mostly intact. She suspected that it must be enchanted in some way. Only paper with an enchantment would survive such a blast. Scarlett had no other explanation on how else that paper didnt burn up. She carefully took the paper and unfolded it. The contents were blank, but Scarlett partly expected that. If there was an enchantment on this paper, it likely was one that prevented anyone, but certain people from seeing what was written on it. Such enchantments were also not easy to remove. Scarlet knew that if she tried to undo the enchantment so she could see the writing, it would likely destroy itself. A type of self destruct feature to prevent unwanted people from seeing what was written. It was the kind of thing that was perfect for passing secret letters. Discovering the contents of this letter would be impossible, but this was Scarlett. A former archmage of enchantments. Even with her limited powers, she could still use her eyes of truth to see through the enchantment and view exactly what was written on it. Like she had done so many times in the past, she focused what little aether she still had into her eyes. Everything turned slightly red in her vision and she could now see glowing floating runes around the paper in her hands. Scarlett''s knowledge of enchantments combined with her unique eye ability allowed her to quickly identify the nature of the enchantment. It was everything that she expected it to be. An enchantment that hid what was written and would destroy itself if tampered. It was a good thing she didnt need to tamper with it. Her eye ability would not trigger it. Looking through the enchantment, the letter read: Go to Eld street. Somewhere there youll find an old hag named Scarlett. She may be using illusions to hide her appearance. Her aether veins should be damaged, making it easy to handle her when found. Once she is eliminated, youll receive your full payment. - Signed L. Scarlett was shocked at what was written. Someone knew she was alive, and whoever it was wanted her dead. She thought It had to be somebody she knew. She considered if her former disciples knew she was alive and was sending people after her, but how would they know? They left her for dead in the Wildlands, so she wasn''t sure they entirely knew her current situation with her weakened aether. Who else could be after me? She thought as she racked her brain for who it possibly could be. She looked closer at the writing and started to notice the unique handwriting. She had seen this type of writing before. Scarlett: Lazarus she mumbled to herself. She was sure it was him. The hand writing and the letter initials pointed to Lazarus, dean of the Arcane Eye college. She recalled that he was one of the few she went to when she got back to Graheel over a year ago, trying to explain what had happened in the Wildlands. He dismissed her at the time, calling her a crazy hag deluding herself and pretending to be Scarlett. He threw her out of his office before she could fully explain herself. She didnt entirely blame him. She looked nothing like what she did before and didnt possess any of her formidable magic ability. If some random person came out of nowhere claiming to be someone you knew and they didnt look like them, she might do the same. However, she wouldn''t have gone out her way to eliminate such an imposter like Lazurus was trying to do to her. Unless, he doesn''t think I''m an imposter! She thought as shock filled her face. She started putting pieces together in her head. The letter mentioned my damaged aether veins. I''m sure I brought that up briefly before he kicked me out of his office. He also mentioned my name in the letter. If he really thought that I was crazy, I don''t think he would have mentioned any of those things in his writing. This means he knows who I really am. She thought while in disbelief. The shock caused Scarlett to drop the scorched letter in her hand. If you know, then why Lazarus? Why are you trying to kill me? I thought we were friends. She sadly thought to herself. She stood there for a while lost in thought before she came back to reality. She then grabbed her things and applied the last of her glamor and left her apartment. She was not about to explain to her landlord how the place ended up that way. She walked through the ruined door of her apartment onto Eld street. She was going to go into hiding, but didnt know what she was going to do or where to go after. Scarlett wouldnt be able to stay on Eld street anymore, even though she wanted to. Now that her pursuers knew she was living here, it would be too dangerous to stay. With the exception of Eld street, most of the east end of Graheel was a dump. So, it was unlikely that she would find a place that was as half decent as the place she was just staying. She carefully made her way down Eld street. The street was devoid of any people at this hour. She continued to pass by the familiar shops and restaurants, all while making sure there was no one suspicious following her. A shiver went through her spine, followed by a feeling of being watched. Scarlett quickly looked around to see if anyone was looking at her, but there was nobody around this evening. Thinking that it was just her imagination she was about to leave, but something caught the corner of her eye. It was an establishment she had never seen before. The sign on the front read: Mystic Emporium. Chapter 17 - Seeing Things It didnt make sense. Scarlett had been living on Eld street for months and has been up and down the street, consistently making trips to the Arcanum Archive, but not once did she ever notice a store like this. It looked old and was very well maintained and clean, even for a store on Eld street Its name was strange too. Was it a magic store? Why would it be here on Eld street? Scarlett asked herself. Finding a store that sold arcane supplies in Graheel was not strange. There were probably hundreds of them in the south west near Market road, but for one to be on Eld street was very strange for Scarlett. She couldnt imagine such a store getting much business being on the east side. She wanted to push the curiosity to the side and leave. It wasn''t safe for her to be anywhere near Eld street right now, but something about the store called her. Inviting her inside. It was a similar feeling she got when she dug up an artifact of civilizations past. The possibilities raced in her mind. She gave another quick look around, to see if there was anybody else around. When she saw nobody, she decided to quickly check the store out. She entered inside and was greeted by the sound of a store bell. Looking around, there were random knick knacks and objects laying around all on shelves. The store was very clean and much bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside. There was even a second floor to the building and exposed skylight in the middle of the room, which was surprising. The exterior architecture of the building on the outside didnt suggest the building had anything like a skylight on it. There was currently no one around. The sign on the front said it was open. Could I be mistaken, no, the door was open. She thought to herself. Scarlett was looking down, pondering if she should leave, when from the corner of her eye, she thought she saw an indescribable creature emerge from the shadows with blue glowing dots for eyes looking at her. It was formless with limbs that would form then deform coming out of its body. She gasped and looked up directly at the creature, but was met with just a white dog with blue eyes looking back at her. Footsteps could then be head from the side room and a man with red eyes and elegant suit came out John: Oh, hello, um I''m sorry that I wasn''t here to greet you. Um, are you OK? You look like you saw a ghost. Scarlett quickly wiped the sweat from her forehead and rapidly managed to regain her composure. Scarlett: Yeah, everything is fine. I was just surprised by yourdog. She said as the white malamute continued to stare intensely at her with its piercing blue eyes. John: Oh you mean Lunar. Dont worry he doesn''t bite. Is there anything that I can get you? Scarlett: No I''m just going to look around. John: OK well I''ll just be over there if you need anything. He said as he pointed to a desk at the back of the store. Scarlett nodded and the man took a seat and began reading a book. Scarlett took a deep breath and started to look around the store. She was still a little startled from before. Ever since what happened in the Wildlands, she would get nightmares often. She would even see the faces of her dead disciples in random objects every once in a while. She chalked it up to the stress and guilt of what happened to her in the Wildlands, that she would just randomly see things. Now that she knew she was being hunted down, Scarlett was suspecting that maybe the added stress was causing her to see monsters in random things. If that was the cause, she was not looking forward to the nightmares she was going to have tonight. Except, something about that monster she saw was particularly terrifying. The various objects she looked at were mundane and of little interest to Scarlett, so she shifted her attention to the books on the shelves. The books were also varied and random. There were a few books that had some basic aether theory in them, but nothing of notable interest to Scarlett. Scarlett: Um, Sir. Do you have any old magical tomes or equipment? She said, calling out to John. John: Um, maybe. I have a little of everything in this store. If you look around a little I''m sure youll find it. Scarlett let out a sigh. She wasn''t entirely surprised by the limited supply of the store. This was still the east side. Mages almost never came to this side, so it was unlikely that a magical store here would be that well supplied. Scarlett was rapidly losing interest in this place. She decided to do a quick scan with her eyes of truth ability to find anything of interest. With her ability to see aether she would be able to tell from glance if something was enchanted or used aether in some way. She activated her ability and gave another disappointed sigh. There was nothing in her view that was enchanted with any aether. Everything in front of her were just common objects. She was ready to leave when she turned her head and was met with a bright light. Its brightness was equivalent to looking at the sun, and it was blasted right into her face. She quickly closed her eyes and looked away, all while deactivating her eye ability. It took her a few seconds to recover. She was quick enough to look away so that it didnt leave her blind. She didnt know exactly what she saw, but she recalled only one time when she was left nearly blind by using her eye ability. It was the ziggurat. When she tried to look at the ziggurat a bright light overwhelmed her eyes, exactly like what just happened. Once the blurriness cleared, she looked at the source of overwhelming aether. It was a box that was laced with red silk. She approached the box while looking over at the store owner to see if he noticed her at all. He was too busy reading his book to pay attention to her. Scarlett slowly opened it. Scarlett expected to find some sort of amazing artifact in the box, something like a strange gem or mysterious tome, but it was just a plain white tea set. There were no interesting designs on the set at all, it was just a plain white teapot with half a dozen cups neatly packaged in some soft fabric. She might have been a bit more disappointed, but the bright light she saw was clearly a sign of lost ancient magic. There was little known about the magic people used in the past, only that it operated fundamentally differently from modern magic and the limits of what it could do were unknown. The few recorded instances of people coming into contact with artifacts of ancient magic had re-defined what people understood of magic and even reality itself. How it worked was one of the many great mysteries of the world. The Eye of Argon, The Sky Heart, and the Gray Amber Stones were some of the most famous objects that Scarlett knew about. All those famous objects were said to have been crafted by lost and mysterious civilizations. There was a time she wanted to work directly with those objects, in hope she would learn more about ancient magic and undo what was done to her. However, all of them were well guarded and beyond Scarlett''s reach. But, now there was a real opportunity for her to potentially study one. Although, she was starting to doubt if this unassuming tea pot was such an artifact. What were the chances that she would find something like that here? There was no way it would be one. But, what if it was. Holding this box I can''t feel any aether. Ancient artifacts dont use aether like modern tools. Its said you cant even feel any aether even when touching an artifact. It was the same with the ziggurat, I couldn''t feel any aether, but I could see a blinding amount of aether with my eyes ability. Although, I read that these dont have any aether infused in them, so maybe my eyes of truth are detecting something else other than aether. She began to ponder the validity of this strange teapot being an ancient item, and was slowly starting to convince herself. Actually, it could be possible. How would anyone be able to tell this was an artifact of ancient magic. You cant feel any aether in those objects, and if it just looks benign and is not actually producing some noticeable effect, it could easily be overlooked by people. The only reason I know that there is something strange about this tea pot is due to my eyes. The moment of doubt she had passed, and now she was determined to acquire this tea set. Scarlett: Excuse me sir. How much for this tea set. She said as she called out to the store owner John looked up from his book to see Scarlett holding the red box with the tea set in her hands. John: Um, could you bring it over? She brought over the box and set it in front of John. She then grabbed a nearby chair and had a seat across from the store owner. John took the box and examined the contents for a few seconds before looking back at Scarlett perplexed. John: Are you sure you want this? Its quite plain. I''m sure I could get you a teapot that would be a lot nicer. Scarlett: No, I''m sure. I would also like to know where you got that tea set. Scarlett wanted to know where this owner found this artifact. She assumed it was second hand, and if she could follow up to the original owner, she might be able to learn something else about ancient magic. John: Um, I''m not sure. Scarlett: Please, if you can remember anything about it would greatly be appreciated. John: I really cant say where I got this. Are you some sort of collector? Scarlett: Something like that. I just wanna find out the origins of this teapot. John: That might be hard He said as he paused mid sentence. John was trying to rapidly think up an excuse for Scarlett. Everything in this store had appeared out of nowhere. So, it was impossible for him to know where anything on display came from. And, he was not about to explain his situation with Onyx to anyone. John: I''ve been here for a while now and I don''t keep records of where I got everything, so it''s hard to recall where all these objects came from. He said while lying to her. Scarlett: I see How long have you been here exactly? Scarlett could sense something was off about John''s response, and she was now probing him for information. John: Um, about three years now I''d say. Scarlett: Really? Thats surprising. Ive been living down the street for a while, and I have never noticed your store before. John: Oh, yeah. I guess my store doesn''t really stand out. Ha ha ha, he said while nervously laughing, not knowing what to say to that. Hes lying.'''' Scarlett thought to herself. Johns store did stand out. It was in a much better state than any of the surrounding stores, and it was incredibly well stocked and laid out nicely on the inside. Most of the stores Scarlett had visited around here didnt have anywhere near as much products laid out as this store did. It was like someone had taken one of the nicer stores on market street and transplanted it here. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. She didnt know why he was lying, or what to make of this person in front of her. Scarlett: I see Anyways, is there really nothing of note you can tell me about this tea set? John: Um, not really. But, why are they so interested in this? Is it special? Scarlett: Something like that she said again. John: If you''re worried that I''ll up-charge you, dont be. Ill sell it right now for one glint. Im just curious why you want this tea set. One glint? Thats like nothing. Why would he sell something so cheap when he knows I want this. She pondered to herself Scarlett: You better not go back on that. John: I''m serious. Before John could say anymore, Scarlett took out a silver coin and handed it to John. Scarlett: Consider it sold then. John: OK. Now you wanna tell me why you''re so obsessed with this tea set? he said as he took the coin. Scarlett didnt want to tell this person what he had given her, especially because he was hiding something, but at the same time she didn''t want to feel like she was robbing this man. So, she decided to entertain this person a little, while leaving out a few key details. Scarlett: I believe that this is an artifact from an ancient civilization. John: Oooh. How can you tell? Scarlett: Well, I can''t say for sure. Its just a gut feeling, so I''m going to run some tests on it. John: Interesting, so that must mean you''re a researcher. Do you work at a museum or something? Scarlett: I''m an archaeologist former archaeologist. John: Wow. Except, you said former. Does that mean you''re retired? Scarlett: Something like that. She said while trying to dodge the question and looking away from John. John took this brief moment to examine Scarlett. She looked like an average middle aged blond lady, except, he thought she had way too much makeup on. The glamor on Scarlett made anyone that looked at her face and hair to see a middle aged green eyed blond woman, but glamors were not designed to change a person''s appearance as much as Scarletts. They were only meant to cover up unwanted blemishes. By applying so much glamor it could warp her appearance, causing different people to see different variations of Scarlett''s fake appearance. Sometimes the over application could even make someone look inhuman. In John''s case, he wasn''t just seeing a middle aged green eyed blond woman, but a woman with an unnatural and unhealthy amount of makeup caked on her face from the warped glamor. He shifted his attention to the rest of her attire and then noted her hands. Scarlett did not apply any glamor to her hands, she didnt have enough to do so. Therefore, her hands were unhidden by illusions, and didnt look particularly good. They looked wrinkly with sickly black spots on her skin that almost looked like bad bruises. John couldnt tell, but the black spots were actually just soot. She had accidentally smeared her hands with it from the explosion trap she set off from the altercation with the people that invaded her apartment. Is she not well, and is trying to hide it with makeup? John pondered to himself as he looked back up at Scarlett''s face. Scarlett turned back to John and was preparing to try and take her leave. Scarlett: Anyways Was all she could speak out before John interrupted her. John: Are you OK? He said concernedly. Upon hearing that, Scarlett stopped. She directed her gaze toward John and looked at him with suspicion. It was a strange question to ask around here. People on the east end of Graheel didnt get involved in other people''s affairs. Scarlett: NoWhy are you asking? John: I was just worried. I thought you might be sick or something. Sick? Why would he think I''m sick? Wait, can he see through my glamor? Scarlett looked at John''s face and was reminded about his red eyes. Red eyes it''s possible She silently thought to herself. Scarlett began to recall what her teacher had taught her about her eyes of truth ability. That it was a power that only manifested in beings that had red eyes. She thought that if the person in front of her had the same ability as her, seeing through her glamor would be nothing to him. I need to confirm it. If he uses the eyes of truth, then I should be able to see him gather aether into his eyes with my own ability. She thought as she gathered aether into her eyes. She activated her eye ability, while ensuring that she didnt look directly at the tea set in front of her, and was left shocked and confused. She didnt see any aether gathering into the store owner''s eye. There was no aether, anywhere. There wasn''t a single bit of aether in his entire body. Which defied logic for Scarlett. Every living creature in this world had aether in their bodies, some more than others. It was always a misconception to call certain people aetherless. Their aether may have been too weak for spellcasting, but was still there. Trees, animals, people, all had aether. It was a sign of life. So, for someone to have no aether was impossible. As far as Scarlett''s eye ability was concerned, the person in front of her was no different than an inanimate object like a chair or table. How is this possible? Can a person like this exist? No, he must be obscuring my ability, but how? I didnt think there was anything that could block my eyes of truth except ancient magic. She thought to herself. She had countless hypotheses for why she couldn''t see his aether, but nothing definitive. She was sure of one thing. If this man could block her from seeing his aether, he was powerful. Blocking the eyes of truth would be no simple task. Only someone exceptionally knowledgeable and powerful like her teacher, Cinder, might be able to do something like that. And, if he was powerful enough to do that, then no doubt he could, and was currently, using his own eyes of truth ability on her right now. A power that capable of revealing fundamental truths of things and people. Her eyes could see glimpses of the past and her teacher saw glimpses of the future. She wondered what truth this person''s eyes revealed about her to him. The reality was that John did not have aether in his body, because he was not from this world. And, his red eyes were just something that he woke up with. He didnt know if these red eyes gave him any special power. John: Um, hello? You''re just staring at me. Did I say something wrong? His word dripped venom for Scarlett. It was like he was mocking her. She felt so naked in front of him and just wanted to leave, but couldn''t. She believed she had fallen into a trap. A store she didnt notice till now, an artifact of ancient magic, a man her eye ability didnt work on were all a series of unlikely coincidences that were happening all at once. A statistical impossibility, unless someone set it all up. Therefore, in her mind it was unlikely the person in front of her would just let her leave. Scarlett: No, it''s OK, she said while trying to hide her feelings and intentions from the store owner. John: No, its not OK. Its clearly bothering you. Im sorry for even asking. I understand. No one would want to talk about their medical problems with a stranger. Scarlett: So you could tell. John just nodded his head. John: Oh, by the way. My name is John, John Li. Scarlett: I''m Alexandria Scarlett! she said and then was immediately surprised. Why did I give him my real name!?! Scarlett rapidly thought to herself. John: Nice to meet you Alexandria. Can I call you Alex for short? Scarlett didnt have time to process her confusion before she got swept up back into the conversation. Scarlett: Surebut I usually go by just Scarlett, she said, partly giving up on hiding her identity at this point, since she already revealed her name. Um, can I ask you what you exactly saw of mysickness?'''' she asked, partly curious if this person''s eye ability had revealed something about the ancient magic used on her. John: Very well, Miss Scarlett. Um, how do I put this? he said while looking up at the roof, thinking carefully about what he was about to say. Id say it just looked like you were covering up something with all the stuff on your face. I just took a guess. I''m sorry if I''m intruding. So, he can see the glamor I applied. Scarlett thought to herself, not realizing that she applied too much glamor and it was slightly warping her appearance. Scarlett: I see Well it''s true, I''m not well for a lot of reasons. John: So, its more than a decline in health. Scarlett: Theres a lot going wrong in my life right now. John: Well, if you want, you can talk to me about it. I might be able to help, and I won''t judge. Scarlett: Honestly, I don''t think you could help. John: You dont know that for sure. So, why dont you tell me what''s bothering you. What do you have to lose? Hes right. I dont have anything left at this point to lose. She solemnly thought. In her mind. If this person was even a competent mage, which she believed he was more than that, she was screwed. She didn''t have the power to fight off a mage without her traps, and there''s no way this person would just give her twenty minutes to set one up. Scarlett resigned herself to whatever would happen next and went with the flow. Scarlett: Sigh, how do I even put it. Tell me, how would you deal with being sold out by every person you ever trusted. John: Is it that bad? Scarlett: Calling it bad doesn''t do it justice. I was betrayed by my students and framed for something I didn''t do, and when I needed help from my friends the most, they pretended to not even know me. I lost everything. It is horrendous, Mr Li. There''s no way to properly describe it. John: I-im so sorry, there was a pause as John cleared his throat. Based on what you''re saying, about how you lost everything, I take it you didnt exactly retire then. Scarlett: Nope. I am disgraced in the academic community now, because of my failed archaeological expedition that left me sickened and two people dead. Of course no one wants anything to do with me. John: What happened? Scarlett looked at John with a pained expression. Scarlett: It''s hard for me to talk about, but There was a pause as Scarlett choked back her sadness. She didnt want to tell this person exactly what happened, mostly because she didnt want to dig up those painful memories. John: Take your time, he said softly. Scarlett: One of my disciples lied to me That lie caused me to be stricken with this sickness and two of my disciples to die. I was then blamed for their deaths by my former disciples, with my former friends siding with them, I guess, she said, choking back tears. John could tell talking about this was very painful for her. He wasn''t entirely sure what happened, but he could surmise based on what she told him. He believed that one of her students lied to her and that somehow caused an accident that killed two people. Then somewhere during that accident she picked up some sort of disease, or was exposed to some sort of toxin. Which was followed by a bunch of betrayal. John: I can tell this is painful for you to talk about. You dont have to say anymore. Scarlett was looking off to the side with watery eyes before she turned her head back to face John. Scarlett: I think I''m done. John: Miss Scarlett, what do you mean? He said concernedly. Scarlett: Talking to you has made me realize that there is no point to keep going. I dont even know why I try. Everyone I loved is either dead or has betrayed me. I dont have anything left to live for. Once she said that, tears started to flow, but not from Scarlett. Across from her, tears ran down John''s face while he looked solemnly at her. Scarlett: Why are you crying? John: Because its like looking at a mirror of myself from the past. I''ve been there before, in that dark place asking the same question. So, I know what you''re feeling. Scarlett: How could you possibly know what I''m feeling? she said, a little annoyed by what John was saying. John: You''re lost. You know you need to do something, but you dont know what to do. It wouldn''t be the first time you thought of just ending it all either. The only reason you dont is because you''re afraid, but in time the pain will outweigh the fear, and you know that. At least, thats what it was like for me. Her annoyance broke and it was now Scarlett''s turn to cry. John had encapsulated her feelings perfectly, and something about someone who really did understand left her emotional. Scarlett: H-how do you know? she said with tears running down her face. John: Like I said, I''ve been there. John stopped speaking to clear his throat. Miss Scarlett, if I may. Years have gone by since I experienced a similar situation, and I have always thought of what I needed to hear in that dark moment. If youll allow me, I would like to impart those words that I never got to hear, if thats OK with you? Scarlett nodded her head. John began to recite a poem. The road can be long and difficult to walk At times you may even have to walk alone But at journey''s end, those who went ahead Will be there to help welcome you home The poem was simple, but the meaning wasn''t lost on Scarlett. John: It hurts now, but one day it will pass. Then youll continue on your journey home, so dont give up. Keep going for the people that remain. Scarlett: But, there is no one. John: You do have someone, I care, and then there are those you just havent met yet. You wont be able to find them if you give up here. Scarlett didnt think there was any hope to be had. She didnt know if she entirely believed what John was saying, but if she was to meet Jare and Chelsie again, she would want to tell them that she did her best to live. If there was even the smallest chance of meeting her beloved disciples again, Scarlett would grab that thin string of hope and keep going for a little longer, and maybe even find those people she hasn''t met yet, like John was saying. Scarlett: T-thank y-you," she said while weeping. John nodded and solemnly smiled. While Scarlett was busy crying, John looked back at the sickly looking skin on her hands. Whatever sickness she has must also be very painful for her too. I wonder if there is something I can do to help her with that. John thought to himself. John then just got an idea. He briefly closed his eyes and imagined finding medicine that would help cure Scarlett''s condition in the drawer at the table he was sitting at. He then reached down and opened the drawer. Huh? Hows that supposed to help? He confusedly thought to himself. Chapter 18 - A Moment of Hopelessness The drawer John opened contained what looked to be an unlabeled plastic bag of dried tea leaves. I was expecting some pills, not tea leaves. John confusingly thought to himself. John was still getting used to the strange power of this place at this time. He wasn''t always sure if the store would manifest the exact things he wanted. Afterall, he tried to manifest his dead dog, but got Lunar instead. But, this place has always at least tried to manifest something that is close to what I''m thinking. Maybe, these are actually medical herbs that might help with her condition. John thought to himself. John: Um, miss Scarlett. Please take this with you, he said, as he handed the bag to her. Scarlett was rubbing her eyes and was starting to reign in her tears and recover her composure. Looking up, she saw John handing her a clear unlabeled bag with some sort of dried plant matter. Scarlett: What is this? she said, while still sniffling a little. John: Something I believe that will help with your condition. Scarlett: Are you sure? she said, sounding skeptical of John''s claims that these dried leaves would help her. Scarletts condition was magical in nature. Her research suggested it was something akin to a curse, but much more powerful than any conventional curse. She believed anything that would be able to break and undo this curse would have to be extremely powerful and magical in nature to do so. In her mind, she was skeptical that something as simple as some tea leaves would help in her case. John could sense Scarlett''s skepticism. John: Well, I don''t know for sure, but it might be worth trying. It cant hurt. he said, trying to reassure her. It didnt sound like a glowing endorsement to Scarlett, but she wasn''t surprised. Reversing ancient magic was not a simple task. It was likely that even another red eyed mage, which she believed that John was, didn''t have any better answer than she did. Is what she believed. Not wanting to snuff his kindness. She graciously took the bag from John. Scarlett: I guess it cant hurt. What kind of leaves are these again? John, nervously, began to rapidly think. Not wanting to tell her where he actually got it, he needed to quickly come with some sort of fake story about the herbs he gave her. Shit. What should I tell her? Could I just give her the name of some obscure plant, but I don''t know anything about plants. Wait, I know. Ill just draw upon mythology from my original world and make something up. John thought to himself. John: Have you heard of a tree called Yggdrasil. Scarlett: Yggdrasil? What kind of tree is that? Ive never heard about it. Good, she doesn''t know. Ill just bullshit from here. John thought to himself. John: Its a big old sacred tree, from a faraway land. Said to have healing properties. At least, thats what the stories say. He said, trying to make it sound more like an old wives tale, so that he could cover for himself in case it didnt work. Scarlett: Oh, I see. Well, thank you, was all she said, not needing any further explanation from John. Scarlett believed the distant land he was talking about was the eastern continent. She had heard that the people in the east were really big into herbal remedies. She suspected that this was a simple import John had gotten from the east. Scarlett''s skepticism had turned into full doubt that these herbs would do her any good, but she still appreciated John trying to help her. While Scarlett was looking at the bag of dried leaves she was holding, she noticed that some of her glamor had come off and clumped onto her hand, from when she was crying and rubbing her eyes. The tears she shed had damaged the glamor and it was slowly coming undone. Scarlett took this que to leave. Scarlett: Anyways, I gotta go, she said, as she put the tea set and leaves into her bag. John was a little disappointed that she didnt ask for any more information. He was preparing to construct a crazy story about those leaves, but it seemed that Scarlett was to leave soon. John: Ok, then. Feel free to come back anytime if you need, or just want to talk. Scarlett: Until next time then, she said and took her leave. Once she exited out of the store she walked over to a nearby alley and pulled out a small mirror from her bag. Looking at her reflection she could tell that the glamor was still holding for now. The glamor she applied around her eyes was particularly iffy, but as long as someone didn''t look too intensely at Scarlett''s eyes, no one would be able to tell she had a glamor on. Scarlett: I should be OK until I get to my safe house. She quickly pocketed the mirror and made her way through the alley into another street, from there she made her way south until she got off Eld street. From where she was, the quality of the surrounding quickly deteriorated. She was now entering the center of the east end. This was the poorest part of the east end, and it was a complete slum. The few buildings she could see from here looked dilapidated and would crumble from a strong gust of wind. Everything else was hobbled together shacks, made from spare wood and metal from collapsed buildings. From here, she squeezed herself between two nearby shacks and pulled out a bottle of water. She poured out some water onto her hand and rubbed her face with it. The glamor smeared and smudged before eventually climbing to her hand. She then pulled out her mirror again and looked at her reflection. Her appearance now was that of a ragged white haired elderly lady with sallow skin and very deep and pronounced wrinkles. Scarlett was taking precautions. She would change her appearance once she was halfway to her safe house, making it even harder for anybody to follow her. Her appearance as a well kept middle aged woman would attract more attention than the appearance of an old decrepit woman, which was not an uncommon sight in this part of town. It would be impossible to find her in the middle of Graheels slum now that she blended in so well. I''m going to need to get more glamor. She thought to herself while sighing. She hated this appearance. It reminded her of what happened to her. The glamor was to help her hide, but it was mostly to reaffirm herself that this was not what she really looked like. She quickly left the small space she was in and continued to her safehouse. She weaved her way through alleyways and small streets until she came to a cluster of ruined buildings. The buildings were abandoned and there was trash spread out around them. One of the doors to the building was removed from its frame and you could see some of the condition on the inside. Just beyond the front door were mattresses and couches splayed out on the floor with some makeshift tables sitting in the corner, all signs that this place was regularly used by squatters Scarlett made her way to the back of the buildings, while ensuring that no one was watching her. At the back of one of the buildings was a cellar door that was barred with thick metal chains and a lock. Reaching into her bag, Scarlett pulled out a small key. She pushed the key into the lock holding the chains in place and with a simple twist, the sound of a click could be heard and the locked mechanism was released. She untangled the chains from the door then opened it, revealing stairs leading down into complete darkness. Once opened, a musky smell filled her nostrils. There was a thick layer of undisturbed dust on the stairs, which gave Scarlett confidence. The undisturbed dust was an indicator to her that no one had entered here for a while. She took a few steps down and closed the door behind her and flipped a latch on the inside of the door, ensuring that no one could open it from the outside. There was only a little bit of light shining through the cracks. If she was to go any further down she would be unable to see anything. With a simple gesture of her hand, she reached out and produced a small ball of fire floating just above the palm of her hand. The flame was not much bigger than the kind you could produce with a lighter, but it illuminated the space and she was able to maintain it. She then proceeded to descend. At the bottom of the step she entered into a dusty old basement. There were a bunch of old shelves and a few boxes laying about, but nothing of particular interest. The place looked as though it was abandoned and had been ransacked for anything useful years ago. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. On the other side of the room from the stairs was a cobblestone wall. Except, a portion of it had collapsed revealing a tunnel. That tunnel was Scarlett''s destination. She made her way across the room and into the tunnel that broke into another hallway. The underground hallway looked old and had rows of metal doors on both sides leading down the hall. From what research that Scarlett had done about the area, she knew that these were the remains of a long forgotten insane asylum. The asylum closed due to egregious malpractice and was condemned decades ago. It was torn down and replaced by the housing above, but the tunnels of that building remained. Covered up and forgotten. Back then, one of the treatments the asylum employed for the mentally unwell was to lock them up, in complete darkness for long periods of time. It was an attempt to scare the madness away. It was a practice that was considered barbaric and unhelpful even when the asylum was still open and active. If the walls of this place could speak, they would tell of the torment that the unwell and deranged experienced here. History had left its mark on these halls. The place carried an energy that was most unwelcoming. Scarlett continued down the hallway. Eventually she made it to room 1313 with a big steel door with a turn wheel on it. She examined the small runes carved into the edges of the door for a few seconds. Good, the enchantment I set up is still intact. Which means no one has entered this room. Scarlett thought to herself. Everything between here and the cellar door was laid with countless arcane traps. If anybody but her tried to make their way to this room, it would be a literal death trap for them. She slowly turned the wheel and with a loud click the door opened. Inside was a modest dwelling.The room had cathedral ceilings and looked to have once been a prayer room for its former patients. The room contained a bed, couple chairs, a table, crates, and shelves loaded up with books and tools used for enchanting. Scarlett had found this place years ago. Turning it into a storage house that she would use to store some of the illegal items she had acquired during her time as a teacher at the university. It now doubled as a safe house for the few times she was displaced and needed to hide away. Scarlett entered the room and locked the door behind her. Once she did that, she let out a sigh of relief. She felt safe. This place had yet to be discovered by anybody and she had set so many traps in this place, it would be impossible for just anybody to enter here even if she was followed. She put down her bag and headed toward the next room over and collapsed on her bed. The stress of everything that had happened to today had left her exhausted. She just wanted to sleep, but she forced herself out of the bed after a few minutes. She was thankful that electricity seemed to still run in the place for some reason, even though its been long since abandoned. Scarlett: I need to do some preliminary tests on that teapot before I can call it a day, she said to herself. Dragging herself out of bed, she walked over to the nearby table and took out the set, placing it neatly in front of her. It contained one teapot and four small cups. There was no noticeable design, it was all just plain white. Scarlett: OK. Let''s try channeling aether into it and see if it responds at all. She focused her aether like she always did. A warm feeling was created in her chest that slowly moved into her arms then right hand and into the teapot. There was no reaction. Scarlett: Sigh. It couldnt be that simple. Well it is a teapot, so let''s try putting some liquid into it and see if anything happens. Scarlett walked over to one of the storage crates near her and pulled out some bottles of water, then proceeded to pour the liquid into the pot. She then waited for any reaction, but there was none. She sighed again and then decided to pour the liquid out of the into one of the tea cups. She put the lid of the pot back on and poured the water into the cup, except when she did, nothing came out. Scarlett: Huh? she said as she took the teapot lid off to look inside. Peering inside the pot, it was completely empty. She then pulled out a notebook and proceeded to take notes of what just occurred. Scarlett: Fascinating. I didnt think that I would discover a phenomenon at this stage so soon. I clearly put water in it, but where did it go? she wondered to herself. She then took some more water and poured it into the pot again while carefully examining the water in the pot. She stared at the water for two minutes, waiting to see how the water was disappearing, but nothing happened. Scarlett: Interesting she said, while looking away to quickly write down her observations in her notebook. After she finished writing down what she saw, she then shifted her attention back to the pot, but was left surprised. The water had disappeared again. Scarlett: What? But, I didn''t put the lid back on? Scarlett had thought that once the lid was placed on the pot, it would trigger its effects. Believing that whatever effect was making the water disappear, required her to put the lid on the pot. However, it didnt seem to be the case. The theory she was crafting in her mind was that the pot was sending the water somewhere else, somehow. She thought it was maybe some sort of spatial magic of some kind that didnt use aether. Such kinds of magic used an enormous amount of aether to accomplish such a task, but she didnt feel any aether fluctuations when the water disappeared. The times she had used such magic, she could feel the massive amount of aether used in its casting. It was so intense that she imagined that even people without the power to control the aether could feel it. So, it was quite interesting for Scarlett that a simple looking teapot was accomplishing spatial magic without aether. How does this work? What is the trigger to make the pot send the water somewhere else? Scarlett wondered for herself. She repeated the experiment again, but this time, without taking her eyes off the inside of the teapot, she attempted to pour the water into one of the tea cups. As she did, she could see the water drain into the spout of the pot, but there was no water being poured into the cup. OK. I think I get it. Its triggered by sight. If I can''t see the water, then it disappears. She thought to herself. It was the only common factor she could think of between the three instances the liquid disappeared. As soon as she couldnt see the water, even in the instance when the water entered the spout, it seemed to disappear. Scarlett: How troublesome. That means I can''t examine it properly to see what the pot is exactly doing to the water, she said as she let out a deep troubled sigh and leaned back into her chair. Scarlett sat there, looking intensely at the teapot. She wondered what the purpose of this item was. Was it a tool to transport things somewhere, was it used to brew ancient potions, some sort of divination device, or a powerful weapon. Countless hypotheses and questions ran through her mind. Then an epiphany hit her. Wait a minute. Its a teapot! Why not try brewing tea! She thought to herself. Scarlett didnt know if it would do anything, but she thought it was worth a try. She then walked over to a crate and pulled out an electric kettle that she sometimes used to boil water for her alchemy experiments. She then poured some water into the kettle and turned it on. She then searched around and realized she didnt have any tea leaves. Scarlett: Shit, she mumbled to herself. She didnt want to leave her compound for at least a week or two. It was to make sure her pursuers couldnt find her. So, she couldnt just go out and get some tea leaves. Scarlett then remembered the bag of dried tea that John had given her. Quickly she went over to her bag and rummaged through it until she found the bag of tea that John had given to her. Scarlett: Guess the tea leaves he gave me wont be as useless as I thought. Once the water was boiled, she poured the water into the teapot with the tea leaves from John. There was nothing notable to the leaves, they looked like any dried herb. She didnt have anything to properly strain the tea, so she opted to just put it right into the pot. She put the lid back on and waited a few seconds. Scarlett was feeling more hopeful this time. There was a little bit of steam coming out of the spout of the teapot this time, which meant the water didnt just disappear like before. With bated breath, she lifted the pot up and began to pour the contents of the pot into a cup. Unlike before, the liquid actually poured out. She stared at the cup of tea for a minute before she painfully laughed. Scarlett: Ha ha ha. Of course, its a teapot after all. I thought it would be something more impressive, but of course its just a simple enchantment that prevents anything other than tea from being placed in it, she summarized with a little bit of disappointment. Based on the few tests she did, it was clear that the teapot only allowed certain liquids in it like tea. She had thought that the teapot would be a powerful artifact like the eye of Argon that was said to allow one to clearly see the future, but it seemed to not be the case. She could still see the utility of such an item that only allowed tea in it. For example, If someone tried to put poison in the pot, it would probably be whisked away. So, in her mind, it was probably just a tool for the rich and powerful of the ancient civilization to prevent assassination by poison. While she was disappointed, it wasn''t a complete loss. She still had in her possession an item enchanted with ancient magic. It could still be further analyzed to maybe find a solution to her curse. She let out another deep sigh before she picked up the cup with the tea in it. Scarlett: Guess I couldn''t be that lucky and find an ancient artifact to undo my curse, she said while staring into her cup. Then again, it is still an ancient enchanted artifact, so I guess I should still be thankful I could even find one. Well, I guess I''ll be analyzing this for next week while I''m stuck down here. Cheers, she said to no one in particular, before tilting her head back and drinking all the tea in her cup in one big gulp. She gagged and almost spit up the tea she drank. Scarlett: Yuck! It''s so bitter! What kinda crap is this. Oh course I don''t have any cream or sugar down here to make it palatable either. Ugh, the world couldn''t even give some decent tasting tea while I''m stuck down here. The bitter tea was the final thing testing her motivation today. She was now exhausted and just wanted to sleep. She picked herself up and proceeded to make her way to her bed, before she stopped half way. Immense pain emanates slowly from her stomach outward to the rest of her body. What is going on? I-is this poison, but how? She thought to herself while holding her gut. The pain was intense. She couldn''t move a muscle without feeling pain pulsing through her entire body, leaving her unable to move. She tried to push through it. Trying to move towards one of her storage crates that had some generic antitoxin stored in it, hoping that it might be able to help her. Scarlett took a single step and pain shot up her leg into her entire being. It was too much to take and she collapsed. Laying there, she tried to crawl her way to the crate, but it was just too painful to move. She painfully shifted her head slightly towards the table where the teapot was sitting. She was wondering if the cause of all this was the pot or the tea itself. Regardless, the pain was followed by a coldness. It was a similar feeling she felt during that ritual. It was the feeling of the approach of death. Why? Just when I found the strength to keep living. Where her last thoughts before her vision blurred and then turned to black. Chapter 19 - Death and Rebirth
Scarlett awoke. She picked herself up while feeling a sense of brain fog. Looking around, there was only a void. A vast black emptiness, seemingly without end. Scarlett: Oh. Is this what the afterlife is like? She said as her voice echoed in the vast emptiness. It was hard for her to think, but she vaguely recalled the last few seconds before she lost consciousness. The memory of that time told her that she was dying, and the strangeness of what she was feeling now was telling her that she might already be dead. The more she thought about it, the more she realized there were gaps forming in her memory, and she could tell those gaps were getting bigger by the second. Scarlett: Oh, I see. My memories will fade with my life. I guess that makes sense. That''s how it goes, I guess, she said calmly. There was no fight left in her. She was all too willing to give into her current circumstance. Her memories would fade, but the bad memories would disappear with them too. Once those memories were gone, she would also be free of that guilt and pain that haunted her for a year and a half. She was ready to rest. She gave her surrounding one last look before she prepared to close her eyes forever. Scarlett: Huh. No gate of light or burning hellscape like those religious zealots like to preach about. Good thing too. There was no way I was going to get past those holy gates, she said as her voice echoed in the emptiness. She could still vaguely recall some of the religious preaching she used to get from her aunt. Talking about how if you don''t follow the church of light''s teachings, you wont be able to pass the gates of light and get into paradise. Instead, youll be banished to a nameless land of fire and torment. She turned around expecting to see more void, but was met with the sight of a tree with white leaves. The tree kinda looked like an oak, but was gigantic, bigger than any building she could still recall. It had a mysterious glow to it that felt unnatural, especially in this place, but it was calming. Its white leaves gently rustled, despite there being no wind. Yggdrasil. That word popped into her head, but she couldnt recall where she had heard that name. Is that the name of what this is? She thought to herself, while trying to wrack her brain where she heard that name. While she was standing there trying to recall things from her deteriorating memory, the tree rustled again vigorously. A few leaves fell from its branches and started to drift towards her. Seeing the leaves come to her, she tried to catch one of the glowing leaves, as she did, the leaf broke into thousands of little pieces and seemed to enter her body. The brain fog she was experiencing suddenly cleared and she could now remember where she heard the name. Scarlett: Thats the tree John was talking about. Why is it in the afterlife? Her query was interrupted by a cold chill. It was a similar feeling of being watched. The source of which she believed was somewhere behind her. She slowly turned around to face whatever gave her that chill, but only saw the same black void that she woke up in. She peered deeply into that abyss to see the source of that feeling. In the furthest reaches of that void, she thought she saw something. What she saw was too blurry to make out. She concentrated on the blur and tried to bring it into focus. For a split second, she thought she could make out what it was. Once brought into focus, she was met with a sight of a giant red eye bigger than her whole body. It was only a few feet away from her. Something that should have been impossible for her not to notice, but she had. It seemed like as soon as Scarlett saw the eye it appeared in front of her, but she knew thats not what it was. It was always there, watching her, and now she could see it too. She could see that eye staring into her soul, into the deepest parts that shouldnt be seen. She wanted to hide, but couldnt. She wanted to be unseen, but was seen. She didnt want to know, but now knew and was learning more. Every second that went by she could see more eyes in the abyss. There was not just one eye staring at her, there were thousands, maybe more, all seeing things that they shouldnt. Scarlett closed her eyes and tried to shield herself with her arms from the piercing eyes. Even so, she could still feel being looked upon. The stares were stripping her of all her secrets and leaving her soul bare. It was ripping her apart in the process and leaving what was left of her soul in tatters. She wanted it to stop. As her entire being was being laid bare, a memory surfaced. It echoed in the void. The road can be long and difficult to walk At times you may even have to walk alone But at journey''s end, those who went ahead The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Will be there to help welcome you home Almost in response to that memory, the unbearable nature and feeling of those stares seemed to have stopped. Scarlett opened her eyes, instead of being met with a black void or giant red eyes staring at her, she saw a man shes never seen before with red eyes staring warmly at her in a void of white. Looking around she saw all kinds of people she had never met before. There were women, children, and elderly of all kinds of backgrounds wearing clothing that was both familiar and exotic to Scarlett. They were surrounding her, staring at her warmly with their red eyes. Scarlett: I-I dont understand. The people surrounding her didnt say anything, but something about the way they stared at Scarlett gave her a sense of safety and understanding. Without uttering a single world, they told her what she needed to know just with a simple glance. She understood what they were trying to say to her. Scarlett: I see. Those who went ahead. So, that''s what he meant. Before she could think any deeper about everything, she heard familiar voices. Jere: Hey teacher, so good to see ya. Didnt expect to see ya so soon. He said while waving and smiling. Chelsie: Cmon Jere, have some tact. She just got here. Scarlett turned her head and saw both Jere and Chelsie in their school robes. They look exactly like they did when they were alive, with the exception that they now had red eyes themselves like Scarlet. Scarlett: J-jere, C-chelsie, Is that really you? she said teary eyed. Jere: Yeah teacher. Its really us, he said as they both approached her. Before anything else could be said, Scarlett reached out and wrapped her arms around both of them and pulled them into a hug, while tears ran down her face. Her students responded by hugging her back. Scarlett: I-Im so sorry. Its all my fault that you both died. Chelsie: What are ya talking about? Im the one who should be apologizing. If I told you about Rana''s strange behavior, maybe was all she said before Jere interrupted her. Jere: Cmon, enough apologizing. The dead dont need it. Scarlett let go of her students and stepped back. Scarlett: That was probably the second time you managed to say something intelligent that impressed me. Jere: Ouch. Still painfully brutal as always. The three of them chuckle together at Jere''s comment. Scarlett: So, now that I''m dead, now what? Both of her students looked at each other and smiled knowingly before turning back to Scarlett. Jere & Chelsie: Now we begin the next part of your journey, they both said in unison. They each grabbed one of Scarlett''s hands and gently guided her forward. As they did that, a blinding bright light appeared behind them. Scarlett squinted her eyes as the light grew and overwhelmed her. Her entire being was coated in that warm calming light. ?????????????????? There was an audible gasp as Scarlett quickly sat up from a lying position. She looked around confused to see where she was. She was still in her hidden underground compound, on the floor where she had collapsed. Scarlet: Huh? I thought I was poisoned and dying. Or, was it all a dream? She wasn''t so sure that it was a dream. It all felt too real to her. It was too vivid for it just to be a simple dream. But, she had no way of explaining what happened. Scarlet picked herself up onto her feet. As she did, one of her bangs she had tied up came loose and covered her left eye. Her hair that came into her vision shocked her. Scarlett''s hair had been white, or blond when she applied a glamor, yet the color she could see was neither. It was a dark red. Just like it had been before she was cursed. Frantically, Scarlett quickly moved over to her bag and pulled out the mirror stored in it. She then examined her reflection. Scarlett''s pure white hair now had a streak of red in one of her braids. The color of that braid went all the way down to the roots of her hair. She also noticed that some of the wrinkles on her face were also now a little less pronounced. Scarlet: How Did the curse weaken somehow? The changes she experienced were unexplainable to her. The cause for the sudden change in her condition was unknown. The only link in Scarlet''s mind was the sudden collapse she had from whatever that tea was. Thinking about there being some link between her condition and the teapot, she walked towards the table that still had it and the dried leaves sitting on it. Except, the pot looked different. It was just a plain white porcelain tea set when she got it, but it now sported an intricate design with black symbols that Scarlett had never seen before. She didnt know what kind of language it was, yet she clearly knew the meaning of the alien language. Right before her eyes the symbols shifted on the porcelain surface and changed into a simplistic pictograph. The pictograph depicted, in black and white, a bunch of people surrounding and worshiping a tree. She saw one of the pictographs of a tiny person by the base of the tree wave to her, before taking a pose and locking itself in place. The shifting imagery didn''t surprise her. She had a big smile on her face now, as she now understood what was happening. Scarlett: The leaves of a tree that grows beyond the boundaries of reality, and a pot that can brew eternity. Anybody that could acquire and just give these away, cant be human. She would spend days and weeks slowly consuming the tea that was given to her, until eventually her appearance and power returned to what it once was. Once her health and aether had recovered, she would then act on the wordless advice of those that came before, and she would join the great work. ?????????????????? -Back in current day at the Cait tea house- Scarlett: So, do you get what I''m saying about the immolation problem of the corpses? John: Hmm? He said as he was brought back from his day dreaming. Scarlett: I said John: No, thats OK. You dont need to repeat yourself. I dont think I have any advice that could help you out with your problems. Scarlett: But, youve always managed to give me such great advice before. Scarlett was referring to the many times that John had given her simple offhand remarks about her project. There was no great meaning to what he was saying, but strangely, she was able to advance her project extremely fast due to those misconceptions she had about John. John: Well, today will have to be the day I don''t really have any insight for you. Why dont you try asking if Cid has any insight to your problem. Scarlett: Cid? John: Yeah, he seems like a pretty smart kid. Hell be helping you directly, so he should be able to give you better insight to that reconstitution project you''re doing. Scarlett: I see She said, while trying to process John''s words and search for greater meaning that wasn''t really there. John: Anyways, I should get going. I have a store to run." He said while standing up. Scarlett was about to say something, but stopped herself as soon as John stood up. They both said their goodbyes and John paid for his meal and left the tea house, making his way back to his own store with Lunar following him from behind. As he was walking, he heard the sound of church bells ringing off in the distance. John: Bells? Oh, wait. There was supposed to be a big funeral today for someone important. Chapter 20 - The Pawn and the Bishop
Today was a solemn day for the followers of light. Outside Graheel''s cathedral of light, located on the western side of the city, there was a large crowd of people in black. Many were followers of the Church, waiting to be allowed entry into the cathedral to pay their respects. The Light Speaker, Balc Sheridan, had passed away. He was the religious leader for the Church of Light. The man was beloved by many and the crowd size had reflected that. It was a bigger crowd of people coming to pay respect than it had been for previous Light Speakers. The number was probably in the thousands and it would take days for everyone to enter the cathedral and pay their respects. While everything seemed mostly calm on the outside of the cathedral, it was chaotic on the inside. Half the members of the clergy and laymen were running around frantically preparing rituals and service for the people outside, while the other half was entertaining the wealthy and influential that were allowed entry into the cathedral ahead of the common people. Organizing the whole thing was the former Hand of Light, Sam Crowley. He was an older gentleman in his fifties with short salt and pepper hair. Sam usually wore long flowing white robes for his job, but today he had switched them to black for the service. He usually exuded a calm and welcoming aura about him, but today there were bags under his eyes and anyone could tell he was stressed and tired. He was currently standing in a hallway talking to a nun and priest about the preparation. Crowley: If we are to run out of incense for the ceremonies, tell the others that there is more stored in the basement. I had it prepared for this week. So, hopefully it will be enough. Nun: Just for clarification. You want us to let in only fifty people every five minutes? Crowley: Yes, until someone comes to tell you to stop letting people in, or it starts to look too crowded to you. Now, do either of you have any more questions? Priest and Nun: No father, they both said. Crowley: Good. Then, go with light. Both the priest and the nun present bowed and quickly ran off to do their respective duties. Crowley was then left alone in the hallways. Standing there, he suddenly leaned his whole body against the wall and started rubbing his eyes while sighing. He was tired. Crowley was operating on two hours of sleep. He had been busy staying up late organizing the entire event for the past week now. Sending out formal letters to all the bishops, expediting shipments of supplies for ceremonies, setting up an official statement to the press, and mountains of more paperwork that Crowley still hasn''t gotten to yet. He would be busy for weeks to come even after the Light Speaker is finally put to rest. The amount of work that Crowley had to do was exacerbated, because Sheridan''s death was sudden. He was in the hospital because he wasn''t feeling well. The doctors had assured everyone that Sheridan would be OK, and then one thing led to another, and the Light Speaker was on the operating table with surgeons and arcane healers attending him. It was sudden and rapid kidney failure. It all happened so quickly that there was nothing anybody could do. If Crowley had seen his death coming, he would have had more time to properly prepare and wouldnt be in this exhausting position. Right now all he wanted to do was sleep, but there was still so much more work to be done. Nun: Father Crowley, another nun called out from behind Crowley. Hearing his name being called out caused him to pull himself away from the wall and straighten his stance in panic. Crowley: A-ah yes. What can I help you with, sister he said as he turned and was met by the sight of a one of the many nuns in the cathedral with a man in a trenchcoat with a red tie and black suspender pants standing behind her. Um, who is this? he asked, confused. Nun: Father, this is an officer from the police. Mike: Hello father Crowley. I''m detective Mike from Graheel police headquarters. Im sorry to bother you on such an important day, he said while stepping in front of the nun. Crowley: Right I thought I specifically told everyone I wasn''t seeing anybody right now, he said while looking over the detective''s shoulder towards the nun. Nun: I''m very sorry, father. He was very insistent, she said, trying to defend herself. Mike: Please dont punish the sister for this. I just have an urgent issue that I need your help with. I wouldn''t have bothered you on such a day if it wasn''t important. Crowley let out a long sigh. Crowley: Then please speak, my child, he said while trying his best to hide his tiredness. Mike nodded and reached into his jacket and pulled out a photo. Mike: "There was a crime that was committed recently and at the scene this was found," he said while pointing to the photo. Looking at the picture. There was a flat wooden disk that was small enough to fit in the palm of the hand. It had intricate symbols carved all over and was split in half right down the middle of it. Crowley also noted that there were a few droplets of blood on the strange looking wooden disk, indicating to him the degree of seriousness of this crime he was vaguely being told about. Mike: "We believe its a talisman of cult origin. So, we were hoping the church could provide some information and help us in our investigation." This was not an unexpected request from law officials to the Church of Light. The church from its inception had dedicated itself to fight the cults and their nameless gods. The church had accumulated an enormous amount of knowledge about those cults in their conflicts with them. Therefore, both governments and law officials would come asking the church for assistance in cult matters. However, Crowley believed he was the wrong person to ask for such assistance. Crowley: I see. I understand what you''re asking, but you would have a better time asking the Witch Hunters, or one of our Light Scholars about this. They would have more expertise on this subject, and be able to possibly provide unique resources in helping in this investigation. I am just a priest. The Witch Hunters and Light Scholars were both branches of the church that specifically would have the information that this officer would be looking for. Crowleys job, despite once being an assistant to the Light Speaker, was still that of a Priest. He was more focused on helping the community through organized charity and guiding peoples through their spirituality. So when it came to matters of cults, he was not as knowledgeable as others in his church. Mike: With all due respect, we did, and were ignored by both of them. That''s why I''m coming to you. Crowley: Really? Even the Witch Hunters ignored you? Mike nodded his head. This surprised Crowley. While he did expect the lack of response from the Light Scholars, as they were always slow to respond to requests, he didnt expect the same of the Witch Hunters. Their obsession with rooting out cult activity would be scary at times. In the past, during more dark times, there were stories of entire towns being burnt down by Witch Hunters in an attempt to destroy the cults. It was a brutal aspect of the organization''s past that they were currently trying to move away from, and present themselves as more reasonable and less extreme than Witch Hunters of the past. In fact, the Witch Hunter organization is currently going through extreme organizational changes right now to repair its reputation. I seem to vaguely recall that there was restructuring going on at the Witch Hunter headquarters. Combine that with the death of the Light Speaker, theyre probably in complete disarray at the moment and cant send out assistance like they normally do. Crowley thought to himself. Crowley: Actually, now that I think about it, that makes sense. The Witch Hunters are going through a bunch administrative changes, but dont worry. I''m sure theyll still send someone to help you with your request. It will just take a little time. Mike: About that. The main reason I''m here is that I was hoping you could expedite our request with the Witch Hunters. Crowley: Oh, I see. I''m sorry, but I don''t think I have the kind pull you think I do with the Witch Hunters. I''m just a priest. Mike: Again, with all due respect father, you are a Hand of Light. I cant imagine anyone else having more influence within the church other than the Light Speaker himself. The Hand of Light was a title that was only bestowed by the Light Speaker. It was just a glorified title given to an assistant that helped in the Light Speakers day to day affairs. But, the officer speaking wasnt completely wrong in the title''s importance. The Hand of Light had as much authority as an Archbishop, as they were supposed to carry out the orders given out directly from the Light Speakers himself. However, this authority only meant something while there was a Light Speaker. Crowley: I''m a Former Hand of Light. Im afraid my title dies with the Light Speaker. Mike: Surely, even being a former Hand of Light must count for something." Crowley let out another sigh. He was annoyed. He could tell that this person wasn''t going to go away unless he helped him in some way. Crowley just resigned himself to giving this person what he wants, just so that the officer would go away quicker. Crowley: Fine. Ill write a letter to the Witch Hunters. Asking if they could expedite your request, but I make no promise that they will do so, only that I will ask them to. Mike: Thats all I''m asking for. Crowley: If that is everything, could you guide the gentleman out, sister, he said while turning to the Nun who was standing quietly behind officer Mike. Nun: At once, father," she said as she began to guide the officer away. After those two were out of sight, Crowley was alone again in the hallways. He was rubbing his eyes. Great Now I have to deal with the Witch Hunters on top of everything else. I can only hope that with the restructuring thats going on, they will be easier to deal with than in the past. Crowley quietly thought to himself. He recalled the countless amounts of paperwork he had to do because of the Witch Hunters. Every time the Witch Hunters got caught in a scandal, he was one of the people that had to do damage control. Being the Hand of Light, he had to help the Light Speaker make a public statement and send out press releases every time that the Witch Hunters messed up. And there would always be at least one mess up somewhere every year. These incidents were causing friction between the main clergy and the Witch Hunters, resulting in communication between Crowley and them being less than pleasant at times. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. The thought of the Witch Hunters was pushed to the back of Crowleys mind. There were ceremonies to perform and preaching to do. He had no time to think about the Witch Hunters and would worry about sending them a letter later today. Crowley straightened himself up and prepared to face the public that would soon descend upon them to pay respect to the late Light Speaker. As he was getting ready to leave, he noticed a woman standing at the end of the hallway. The woman wore a black ballroom gown with gloves and a black wide brim hat. A black veil hung from the brim of her hat and covered and obscured most of the top of this woman''s face and eyes. Her nose down was the only thing that was exposed, and from what could be seen of her face, her skin was pale. It was almost ghostly white with how pale her skin was, and accentuated the black lipstick she was wearing. Everything about this person was slightly odd. She carried herself with an almost strange eternalness. It was almost like she wasn''t there and would disappear if one blinked. Her aura was definitely a little strange for Crowley. Her clothing and appearance suggest to Crowley that this person was one of the nobles that was visiting today. He believed she must''ve gotten lost and started to wander the cathedral halls. Crowley: Um, excuse me miss. Are you Lost? he yelled out to the person. As he yelled out, the person quickly moved around a corner into another hallway out of Crowley''s sight. Crowley: Light help me. He said flustered. He really didnt want to have the nobility here like this. It was a fact that the church would always give preferential treatment towards them, and he didnt particularly like it. The church would go out of its way to give them private and exclusive access to rituals and blessings. Something many in the public would never have. If Crowley felt he had a choice, he would make all the nobles wait outside like everyone else. Were all equal under the light, so its not fair that we give a group preferential treatment. The church is supposed to help the poor, not entertain the rich. If it wasn''t for their donations, I wouldn''t even bother with the private rituals. He thought to himself in frustration. Crowley was not a greedy man. His tolerance of the visiting nobility was born out of the good that could be done with the large amount of donations that was to be given. The money would be used to help fund soup kitchens and a variety of other services the church provides to the poor. Crowley was thinking if he should go after the wandering noble, or get someone else to do it while he went about other business, when he heard another nun call to him from behind. Nun: Father Crowley! Someone is here to see you! the nun yelled out from behind Crowley. Light above help me. Not another. He thought with frustration as he turned towards the approaching nun. Crowley: With all due respect sister, I''m not seeing anyone at this time. Im too busy Nun: Father, its Archbishop Beck! Hes the one requesting an audience! she said slightly exasperated. Crowley: Oh. he said that was then followed by an awkward silence between the two of them for a few seconds. Right, Um. Where is his holiness right now? he said looking a little worried. Nun: "We asked him to wait in the former speakers office, while we went to get you." Crowley: Then hes in the former Light Speakers office, good. Ill go see him right away, he said as he began to walk past the nun, but then stopped and turned to her. Oh, right. There was a visiting noble that I think has gotten lost. I believe I saw her go down that hallway, he said while pointing toward the hallway he saw that strange women disappear into. Sister, would you be so kind and guide her back to the other visiting nobles. Nun: Of course Father. Crowley nodded his head and departed towards the former Light Speakers office. If this was anybody else, he would have simply sent them away, but this was an archbishop. They were the highest authority in the church beside the Light Speakers themselves. There was no way that Crowley could refuse an audience with him. As he was walking, his mind raced as to why the archbishop was here. The Archbishops weren''t supposed to show up for at least another five days to perform ceremonies. He was given no notification of any of them coming early. It was also not just any archbishop either, it was archbishop Khan Beck, the one who was most likely to be elected as the next Light Speaker. Once the funeral for the Light Speaker Sheridan was concluded, the church would begin its long and arduous process of selecting the next Light Speaker. Archbishop Beck was the favored one to be selected. He had the support of many of the senior clergy and was the Archbishop of the holy city of Lavall, which historically, Archbishops from that city are favored to become Light Speakers. Knowing that such an important person was here, made Crowley think that this was some sort of political ploy in the background he was unaware of. Is the Archbishop here to ingratiate himself with the visiting nobility? That would make the most sense. If he could secure a large amount of donations for the church from them, it would help him in the bid to become the next Light Speaker. Crowley thought to himself. Crowley eventually made it to the front of the Light Speakers office. There were two guards in distinct ceremonial armor that had a symbol of a sun engraved on their breastplate. They were waiting outside in front of the office door. These were the temple guard, people who exclusively protected the Archbishops and sacred relics. If there was still any doubt in Crowley''s mind that if the Archbishop was really here, it would be quelled by the mere presence of these guards. One of the guards noticed Crowley approaching. Temple guard: Are you Father Crowley? he said in a respectful, but gruff voice. Crowley: Yes, I am. I heard that his holiness archbishop Beck has requested an audience with me. Temple guard: Very good. Hes in here waiting for you inside, the guard said as they gestured towards the office. Crowley nodded and then moved to stand in front of the former Light Speakers office. He straightened his collar a bit and then proceeded to enter. Inside was the familiar office space that Crowley must have entered a thousand times. It was spacious and contained countless important and sacred documents that were securely locked behind massive cabinets.There was a large desk that the former Light Speaker used to work at. In front of the desk there was a small table in between two couches that were meant for visiting guests. Sitting on one of the guest couches was Archbishop Beck. The Archbishop was an older balding gentleman in his mid sixties wearing similar funeral robes to Father Crowley. He would have been easily mistaken as one of the senior clergy here at the cathedral, but Crowley knew it was the Archbishop. He had met and talked to him countless times before, so he knew for sure it was him. Crowley: Your holiness it is an honor, he said as he bowed. Beck: Father Crowley, its good to see you again. Although, I wish it was under better circumstances. Please, come sit with me, he said as he gestured towards the couch across from him. Crowley did as he was told and took a seat across from the Archbishop. Crowley: About that. I did not receive any notification of your arrival. If I had known you were visiting today Crowley was interrupted by Beck raising his hand, signaling for him to stop speaking. Beck: I would first like to apologize to you. I understand that you are extremely busy at this time, and I would not wish to add to your burden if it wasn''t of utmost importance. So first, I would like to ask for your forgiveness. Crowley didnt like the sound of what Archbishop Beck was saying. It sounded like more work was about to be pushed onto him. Crowley: Of course, all is forgiven. Now, what is it that you require of me? The Archbishop cleared his throat before looking around to make sure there was no one else around. Beck: I have a task for you. While important, it does not require immediate action. It honestly could be done after the funeral is completed. However, it would require a bit of subtlety on your part, there was a brief pause before Beck continued. I need you to dispose of any unsent speaker decrees without anyone knowing. Crowley was shocked. Speaker decrees were direct orders sent out by the Light Speaker to all church personnel. They were not just simple pieces of paper that were meant to be disposable. Those decrees determine the doctrine and can fundamentally change how the church behaves and acts towards the people. These were the policies that the church would operate under. Not sending those decrees out would be a betrayal of the highest order for Crowley. Crowley: With all due respect, what you''re asking me to do is blasphemous. Beck: Its not blasphemy, its necessary. And, based on your reaction, there are unsent decrees, he said in a calm, almost monotone way devoid of any emotion. Crowley was surprised that the Archbishop had seen through him so quickly. It was true. There were still a bunch of signed decrees unsent. Crowley: Even if that was true, you alone dont have the authority to dispose of those decrees! he said with passion. Beck True, if I was alone in this. Luckily, the majority of the clergy supported me on this. Crowley: What? Hows that possible? Beck: Come now. You most of all should know how disruptive Sheridon''s decrees were for the more traditional of the church. It split the clergy down the middle with those who support for the changes he brought, and those against them. But, now that Sheridon has passed, the side against his policy now have majority control over the clergy. And I am basically representing them here now. Crowley was very aware of the schism that the decrees cause in the church, but he didnt care. Those decrees stopped the church from discriminating against people and redoubled the church''s efforts on helping the poor. In Crowley heart, those decrees shaped the church into the institution that he always thought it was meant to be. Crowley: But even so, it goes against the founding laws of the church. He said, hoping that invoking the founding laws would make Beck back off. The founding laws were the original teaching of the Church of Light. They were rules all priests had to abide by and no one in the Clergy could change, or overrule. It laid out very clear rules on how speaker decrees were meant to be handled. Beck: Please, Father Crowley. This is not about protocol. Even if the decrees are sent out, they will be overturned. As you know, Archbishops and senior clergy can overturn Speakers decrees if the majority vote on it, which we will in the coming weeks. And, we will be overturning them in that vote. Crowley: If you''re so confident that they will be overturned, why even ask me to dispose of them? Beck: It is purely out of convenience for everyone in the clergy. As you know, selecting the next speaker is already a long process. If those decrees are sent out, it will prolong the selection process, possibly dragging it out for years. Crowley just looked at Beck in disbelief. Crowley: This is a political ploy, isn''t it? You''re just doing this to help your bid in becoming the next speaker! he yelled out while slamming his hand on the table in front of him. Beck: Im doing this for the unity of the Church! he yelled back. Sheridan''s decrees were insane. Letting mutants into our places of worship, even suggesting we allow mutants to get married. You accuse me of blasphemy earlier, but what of Sheridan''s love of those sinful creatures. Crowley: Those so-called sinful creatures are still people. They are as deserving of the light''s warmth as anyone else. Beck: And they will receive the light''s warmth in death, but in life they are tainted creatures. Their presence disrupts the church and divides us. More than ever, we need a unified church for the challenges we may face in the future. Crowley: So, what? Should we also return to the old way the church did things? Revive the decree of extermination and try to murder all mutants, like the church had tried in the past. All so that we can please a few so-called traditionalists! Beck let out a long sigh. Beck: I''m not here to have a theological debate with you. This is something you''re clearly invested in. I can assure you not all of the former speakers'' decrees will be overturned. The church will still treat the mutants with more kindness than we have in the past. But, the point still stands. Those unsent decrees must be disposed of. Crowley: And if I was to refuse? Beck: I would hope you would see reason, but if not, then we might have to take drastic measures. In such a case, you might find yourself excommunicated. Crowley: On what charges! I have done nothing that violated the church''s founding laws. Beck: You know breaking the founding laws is not the only way to be excommunicated. It can be done with a vote. Crowley: Is the clergy you represent so unified that they would excommunicate a priest that had done no wrong. Beck: Probably not, but if there is possible wrongdoing, then maybe. Crowley: What are you talking about? Beck: Let''s say hypothetically there was a rumor going around. In that rumor it was suggested that the former Hand of Light had been poisoning the Light Speaker, and had been doing so for years. The poison had degraded Sheridan''s sanity, making him irrational and allowing the former hand to secretly control the church from the shadows. If such a wrong doing existed, the church would have to take action. Crowley: What? You would excommunicate me on a rumor. A rumor you probably started! Beck: I was simply presenting a hypothetical, but if such a rumor did exist, it would be quite concerning for the church, he said with a sly, almost mocking smile. Such rumors of insanity would give some pause to fellow clergy members. After all, I''m not the only one in the clergy that thought Sheridan was losing his mind. If such rumors like that were going around, the church would have to take it seriously. The public would demand us to do something. At best in such a situation, the church would have to relocate you to an isolated abbey away from the public, otherwise we might have to excommunicate you. Crowley clenched his hands and looked down at the ground. He was trapped. The threat was clear to Crowley. Either dispose of the decrees, or be removed from the church in some way. Does he follow orders, or does he do what he believes to be right? There was no clear answer in his head, and it was causing inner turmoil that anyone could be seen on his face. Archbishop Beck sat there across from Crowley with an uninterested look. Clearly paying no concern to the turmoil the priest in front of him was going through. Beck: Anyways, I''ve said everything that was needed. I hope that you will do the right thing, Father. See you at the funeral five days from now, he said as he stood up and proceeded to leave. Crowley just sat there. He could hear the door to the office open and closing behind him, signaling the Archbishops departure. He would sit there for ten more minutes lost in thought before he left to continue with his duties for the rest of the day, acting as if that conversation with Beck never happened. Chapter 21 - Welcoming the Newbie In the middle of the afternoon at Graheels police headquarters, Joe was at his desk looking through documents and videos. He was desperately looking for any lead. It had been a week since Rob Anvil was murdered under his watch, and he was pissed. Joe couldnt stomach the thought of someone under his protection dying. For someone to have the nerve of infiltrating and murdering a witness at the police headquarters was unthinkable. What little chance he had for bringing justice to his dead friends also died with Rob. He wasn''t mentally stable, but Rob still could have provided enough information to find evidence of his former gangs wrong doing. Allowing Joe and his team to criminally convict a bunch of former members. But now, that was all thrown out the window. He was now pursuing a murder case with Rob. The only problem was that it wasn''t being declared a murder. He had watched the recording of the interrogation a thousand times to try and understand what happened, but the recording ends a few seconds after both he and Mike left the room. So, he couldn''t see what had happened to cause Rob''s death. When they examined the interrogation room, there were countless slash marks all over the walls and furniture. The camera in the room had also been cut clean in half and destroyed. Explaining why the recording cuts out. An autopsy was done and the body was examined. A strange wooden disk-like object was found on Robb''s body. The object had strange writing on it and was split perfectly down the center in two. The occult researcher division within the police identified the object as a kind of suicide device. Something that members of the nameless cults carry and use when they''re caught. They theorized that it worked by releasing air pressure that would slice the user and anything nearby into pieces. It would explain the slash mark on the wall and camera if true. Combined with Rob''s mental state, it looked very likely that he just killed himself. As a result, Rob''s death was declared a suicide. However, Joe completely rejected that. His experience just before Rob''s death told him it was something else. That unsettling feeling both he and Mike had didnt come from nowhere. He believed that there was something that he was missing. Following that gut feeling, he questioned the occult researchers about the wooden object. He found that those investigators from the occult division couldnt actually confirm the wooden object was a suicide device, only that it had a lot of similar aspects to other devices they''ve seen. Following that line, he took the object to some enchanters. Joe suspected that object was enchanted at one point. Unfortunately, they didn''t give him much information either. They said if it did have an enchantment, it was long gone. Coming to the end of that line of investigation, he was looking over everything, trying to make sure he didnt miss anything. He suddenly heard his partner calling out from behind him. Mike: I''m back. Joe: Good, where were you? he said, without looking at Mike and continuing to look over papers in front of him. Mike: I told you already. I was asked to help look for Renny. Ive been busy with that. Joe: Renny? Whos that? Mike: Yknow Renny. Its the guy thats good with invisibility magic. Joe: Oh, right. What happened to him? he said, while briefly pausing his work, before going back to it. Mike: By the light, you did forget, he said followed by a long sigh. Renny went missing somewhere near the red-light district. A bunch of us have been asking around if anyone has seen him. Joe: If he went missing around there, hes probably sleeping at the bottom of the river. Mike: Cmon, man. Dont say that. Joe: Sorry, I''m just being honest. If you''re a cop, you dont go anywhere near there. Mike: I know. Were all thinking it, but you dont gotta say it. Joe: "Anyways, did you get a hold of the Witch Hunters?" One of the experts that Joe wanted to get a hold of were the Witch Hunters. Experts in the affairs of Cult matters, they would be the perfect people to ask about the nature of the object they found on Rob. They would be able to confirm for sure if it really was a suicide device of cult origins. That organization had always been easy to get a hold of, but lately Joe was having trouble contacting them. So, he asked Mike to try and contact them while he went through the evidence. Mike: Went to the Hand of Light himself to ask for the Witch Hunters help. Said there were a bunch of administration problems with the Witch Hunter, and that''s why they''re so hard to get a hold of. The Father said he would try and expedite our request. So, well just have to wait and see. Joe: Hm, I was hoping for something more immediate. I guess well have to approach this a bit differently, he said as he finally put down the paper and turned towards Mike. He was about to explain their next plan of action, when he noticed someone standing right behind Mike. It was a young individual who looked to be in his early twenties. He had brown hair and blue eyes and was wearing the full black and blue uniform of the police force. The doe-eyed young man still had a pure look of innocence to his eyes. Joe: Um, whos this? Mike: Oh, right. Let me introduce you both. This is Joe, hes the leader of our unit," he said, while gesturing to Joe. And, this is Dan, a new hire to the force that just graduated the academy. Dan: Hello. Nice to meet you Mr Joe. Joe cringed a little hearing Mr in front of his name. Joe: OK, but why is he here? Mike: Light help me. You forgot that too, he said while rubbing his temples. Remember what I discussed with Chief Murdock last week, about certain conditions we had to agree to. Joe: Certain conditionsOh light no! No, please not that! Anything but that! No! Light! Nooo! Light help me! Nooooo! he shouted while freaking out and being extremely dramatic. A demonstration of how upset he was. Joe was remembering the condition he had to agree to last week. That he would be allowed to pursue the case with Rob. Under the condition, he was to take on a trainee into his investigation unit. Dan: Um, did I do something wrong? he said while turning to Mike. Mike: No, its not you. Joe is just a little Mike paused for a second to think politely about what he was going to say, but then gave up. No, Joe is just an asshole. Dont take him too seriously, because I definitely dont. Joe: Im forced to take on a recruit, and you bad mouth me! Mike: Well, maybe if you acted more professional I wouldn''t have to bad mouth you. Dan: I''m sorry if I''m causing a fight between you two, he said while looking between the two arguing men. Mike: No! You dont have to apologize. Its this jackass that should apologize, he said while pointing towards Joe. Joe: What do I have to apologize for? Mike: You''re the leader. Its your job to make your team comfortable working with you and each other. Something you''re failing to do at this very moment. Both Mike and Joe glared at each other. The tension in the office was palpable. Dan and all the other onlookers could feel the intensity from the stares of these two. It was eventually Joe that looked away from Mike first, a subtle gesture that signaled his defeat. Joe then turned his attention toward Dan. Joe: For making you feel uncomfortable, Im s-s-so-s-sorry, ugh, he said in a way that made it sound like he was almost vomiting. Mike glared at him and shook his head. Mike: Even when you apologize, you''re an asshole, he said with a look of disbelief. Joe looked back at Mike and raised his hands and made a gesture that could be communicated as: What do you want from me? Mike: Fine, whatever. Im going to grab a bite to eat with Dan and teach him the ropes. You can stay here and look over video footage on repeat for twelve hours, like youve already have. Joe: No way you are training him alone. I dont need you training this kid to be another Mike. You''re already on my ass enough that I don''t need two of ya. Mike: OK. If you''re coming, you''re buying. Joe: Whatever, he said while rolling his eyes. Both men proceeded to leave the police station with the newbie in tow. ?????????????????? Joe and crew drove fifteen minutes east from the headquarters to arrive at both senior investigators'' favorite restaurant. Bennys Diner. The all day breakfast diner was wedged between a bar and another restaurant. The building was at one point in time an old movie theater, a fact that was reflected in the exterior of the building. However, the inside was completely redone into a proper eatery. Both Joe and Mike came here often to eat. They liked the food and it was affordable. All three of the officers had just gotten out of their vehicle and were currently standing in front of the diner. Dan: Is this the place you guys were talking about? Joe: Yup, best food in this part of town. He said as he pushed forward into the Bennys with the others following behind him. He entered the restaurant with a ring from the door, alerting the waitress who was working behind the countertop to Joe''s presence. This was Jenny. She was a blond hair mutant girl with blue slitted eyes like a cat. She wore a blue uniform with a white apron. Both Mike and Joe had developed a friendship with her from constantly coming here to eat. Jenny: Oh, hey Joe. Hey Mike. You''re guys gonna have the usual, she said cheerfully. Joe: Yup, and make that three of the usual. We have an extra body with us. MIke: Actually Jenny, can you change two of those orders to a full Bennys golden breakfast. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Joe: That''s like one of the most expensive things on the menu! he said while turning to Mike in disbelief. Mike: Exactly, he said with a smug grin. Jenny: OK. That''s one regular and two golden breakfast, correct?" she said while ignoring the confrontation that was going on between Mike and Joe. Joe: Yeah he said with a groan. Jenny: OK. Take a seat anywhere and I''ll have your orders in a minute. The group made their way to Joe and Mike''s usual spot they like to sit. At a table in the corner away from any other customer that might try to eavesdrop on their conversations. They each took a seat at the table. Taking a quick look around, they were the only people here today. Noting that there was nobody here today, Joe opted to speak more openly with Dan. Not worried that this conversation would be secretly listened to. Joe: Anyway, I haven''t heard anything about you yet. Why dont tell me about yoursel Are ya listening to me? he said while snapping at Dan. Dan was looking away and not paying any attention to either Mike or Joe, before his attention was immediately brought back from Joe snapping at him. Dan: Oh, um sorry. What were you asking me? Mike: What were you even looking at? Both senior investigators looked toward the direction Dan was looking. There was nothing there. Just empty tables and Jenny quietly working away behind the front counter. Mike: Got a thing for blond girls or something? Joe: Better question is, are you from the countryside? Dan: Oh, uh yeah. Why? Joe: Of course Murdock would give me a country boy, he said while rubbing his eyes to relieve the stress that was building in him. Mike: Dont listen to him. Hes just going to try and gaslight you to try and make you apply to a different unit. Joe: Mikey. Hes staring at Jenny cause hes never seen a mutant. Dan: Whoa. Howd you know, he said, while not heeding Mike''s warning. Joe: Country people dont usually interact with mutants. So, you being from the countryside meant there was a good chance youve never seen one. Mike: OK. Good job Joe. Im sure youve impressed Dan with your skills of deduction. Now can you stop gaslighting the kid. Dan: How''s he gaslighting me? he looked at Mike with a bit of concern. Mike let out a long sigh. Mike: He is going to try and impress you with his skills as a detective while berating you. Hell demoralize you and make you feel too inadequate to be a part of the team, causing you to apply for transfer out of our unit. Hes done this for the last three people that tried to join our team, along with a bunch of other methods to make them leave. Joe: "A fair assumption on your point, but I''m just asking the important questions. Its what the leader is supposed to do." Mike: Uh huh. I''m sure whether or not Dan is from the countryside is so important, he said sarcastically. Joe raised an eyebrow in response to Mike''s sarcasm. He then turned his attention back to Dan. Joe: Tell me Dan. What was it about Jenny that interested you? Dan: Oh um. Like you said, I''ve never seen a mutant before. So, I was surprised to see one working here. I didnt think the unhumans would work at a place like this. Mike had a shocked face at Dan''s answer. Joe: As opposed to what. How do you think mutants make a living? Dan: I dont know. Dont they usually sell drugs? he said while shrugging. Upon hearing that, Joe put an elbow on the table and leaned his head into his hand while looking at Mike with the biggest shit-eating grin. Joe''s questions had pointed out a massive flaw about Dan, and Joe was enjoying the fact that he was proving Mike wrong. Joe: My questions don''t seem so pointless now, do they? he said, with a suffocating amount of smugness. Mike could only bury his face in his palm in frustration. Upset that Joe was proving him wrong in the assessment of the situation. Mike: You fucking knew, didnt you? Joe: I suspected as soon as he said he was from the country. Dan: Um, did I do something wrong? Mike: Dan, please take no offense when I say this, but you gotta unlearn everything youve ever heard about mutants. Dan: Huh? Mike: What you just said was extremely racist. If you said that shit around certain mutants, there''s a good chance youll get your ass beat. Unhuman is an extremely offensive racial slur that no one uses anymore. Joe: Except for those old-timey kinds of racist, he smugly stated. Mike: And dont even get me started on all mutants are drug dealers crap, he said, without acknowledging Joes comment. Dan: Oh, um. I-I''m sorry. I-i didnt know. Mike: Thats fine. Just ask me first if you have any questions about mutants. But, really. What kind of place did ya come from to still spout that kind of shit. Dan: Sorry, I really didnt know. I only heard about mutants from my village elders in Starkvall. Joe: Starkfall? Where is that? Dan: Its a small isolated village up north in the mountains. There are less than a hundred people living there, so I would be surprised if youve heard of it. Joe: Wow. That really does sound like you came from a backwater. Dan: Um, Mr Mike Mike: Dan, dont put Mr in front of either mine or Joe''s name. Just call us by our first name. Dan: OK, um Mike, he said while looking around to make sure no one was listening. Is it safe to eat food that mutants handle? he whispered to Mike. Joe: "Wow. Thats REALLY old-timey racism." Mike: No. You dont turn into a mutant by touching them, or touching the stuff they touch. You can only become one from Krimson. Dont they teach you that at the academy? Dan: Mostly only how to handle the drug, and what to do if you''re exposed to it. Mike: Well, since your understanding of mutants is pretty old and outdated, lets go over the basics to ensure we dont miss anything. As I hope you would know, Krimson is the main illegal drug that causes mutations. They taught you that much I hope. Dan nodded his head in response to mike. Dan: Yeah. They showed me pictures of it. Its a red liquid that you inject into yourself to become a mutant. In its distribution and manufacturing process, I''m pretty sure I read that it was still unknown. Mike: Thats right. I think its like, ninety percent of all mutants are created by Krimson. Joe: If we''re being honest, its probably closer to one hundred percent, because I''ve never met a mutant that wasn''t created by Krimson. Dan: So, does that mean there is some validity to them being drug addicts. Mike: OK, where is that coming from? That idea that all mutants are drug addicts or dealers. Dan: Well, I always heard that it was mostly junkies that took Krimson. Mike What? Krimson is not addictive. No one takes that shit to get high. Dan: Well why would anyone take it then? Joe: Oh wow. I knew the academy was bad, but they didnt even teach you the most basic shit. Mike was shaking his head in disbelief at how uniformed Dan was, despite coming straight out of the police academy. Mike: Dan, people take Krimson to gain the ability to control aether. Dan: Really? It can turn you into a mage? They didnt say anything about that at the academy. Mike: If you aren''t born with the ability to control aether, there is a small chance that Krimson can cause you to develop that ability. Although, It is more likely to turn you into a mutant than to do that. Joe: "Chances are better if you are a Krim-Kid. I assume you haven''t heard about that either," he said, directing his comments towards Dan. Dan just shook his head. Joe: Well, I''ll say this, and then we can stop talking about mutants. Krim-kids are people that got injected with Krimson when they were kids or younger. They do that, because children have a slightly better chance of developing aether control than if an adult was to take that drug. This is almost always done without the child''s consent. And, Krim-kids make up the majority of mutants. So, any racist ideas or moral arguments about why mutants are bad become moot, when the majority of mutants didnt even choose to be like this. There was awkward silence that followed Joe''s comment. Dan was looking down feeling a little awkward. Dan: "They give that stuff to kids? How do parents allow that to happen? he said in disbelief. Joe: Orphans, money, and desperation. Theres a ton of reasons why it happens, but I don''t really want to get into it. After all, our meal is here, he said, while pointing off to the side. Both Mike and Dan turned their heads towards where Mike was pointing. Approaching them was Jenny with a tray of food in her hand. Jenny: OK, got your order here," she said as she sat the tray down on another nearby table before beginning to lay out the food. The plate of food that was laid out in front of Joe was: two eggs, home fries, few strips of bacon, two pieces of toast cut down the middle diagonally, and a cup of black tea with cream already in it. Mike and Dan got the same thing, except it was on a big golden plate, and in addition to what Joe had, their plate contained: tomahawk steak, three different kinds of sausages, pancakes, golden hash browns, an egg benedict, something resembling peameal bacon, smoked fish, and some roasted vegetables on the side. Dan: Whoa! Thats a lot of food, he said in surprise to the platter of food set in front of him. Jenny: Will all this be separate bills? Mike: No, its all on Joe''s tab. Jenny: Ohhh. I see why you ordered this now. If that was the case, you should have ordered the platinum platter. That meal has some really expensive meat on it. Joe: Woman, are you trying to steal my wages for the month. Jenny: I assume that this whole thing is some sort of punishment from Mike. Which, if Mike is punishing you like this, he must have a good reason. Joe: So, you''re just going to automatically take Mike''s side! Jenny: I dont want any involvement in your guys'' arguments, she said, dismissing Joe''s accusations. Anyways, enjoy your meal. I know Mike will, she said, while winking at Mike. Mike: Thanks Jenny. The cat eyed mutant nodded her head and then left them to go back to cleaning dishes behind the countertop near the kitchen. Joe: Anyways, kid, I recommend that you transfer out of this unit, he said while stuffing a piece of bacon into his mouth. Mike: Please, dont listen to him. Joe: Why are you so insistent on keeping this kid in our unit? Mike: OK, I''m going to level with both of you, he said while chewing on a piece of steak. I have too much work on my plate and I need help. And, I know I''m not gonna get that help from you, he said while pointing his fork at Joe. So, I was hoping Dan could be my assistant and help me out a bit. Joe: But hes like the greenest greenhorn you could find. The comment made Dan visibly depressed and it looked as though he was sinking into his chair. Mike: Dan might be young and inexperienced, but hes got passion and spunk. And, that goes a long way in my books, he said while looking over at Dan. Making sure Joe''s comments weren''t getting to him too hard. Joe: I give him a month. Mike: You''re not doing this again. Im not gonna let you berate Dan for no reason. Joe: Fine. I won''t do anything this time. But, I will be honest with him. It will be up to him whether or not he can handle it and keep up. Mike: That''s all I''m asking. Dans a good kid. I think ya got a bright future ahead of you, he said while patting Dans back. Anyways, do you have any questions for either of us Dan? Dan was chewing some food before he quickly swallowed to answer Dan: Um, just the basics. What is expected of me and what, if any, investigations are we working on. Mike: Its gonna be mostly helping me with the backlog paperwork for a while, I''ll show you how to handle it when we get there. As for case''s, were not on any right now. Well, technically we are, but its complicated because of this guy, he said while pointing at Joe. Dan: Complicated? Um, could you explain? Mike: Joe here is keeping the Rob Anvil case open. Dan: I thought it was declared a suicide. How can you keep a case like that open? Joe: Its not that hard. Since I''m the leader of our unit, I have to sign off on a finished case. As long as I don''t do that, the investigation will remain open. Mike: Yeah. The case with Rob and his Skull Crusher gang has been forced to remain open for ten years now thanks to Joe. Dan: You can do that, and the higher ups dont care? Mike: Oh no. They do care. Chief Murdock had been trying to make Joe drop this case for years. The only reason weve gotten away with it for so long is that we still do our other duties and investigations were given. Joe: That, and I''m a pretty good investigator. So, Murdock doesn''t want to piss me off too much, and doesn''t say or do too much about it. Mike: More like he knows youll make a big scene and possibly embarrass him if he forces you to close the case. But, I hate to say it, Joe is a really good detective and Murdock definitely recognizes it. So, that probably also helped us keep the case open for so long. Dan: But how do you keep it going when the target of the investigation is dead? Joe: Well, I had to change the scope of the case from investigating Rob and his gang, to a murder case instead. Dan: Murder? Wait, you think Rob was murdered? But, the others at headquarters said he killed himself. Joe: Trust me Kid. If you were there like me and Mike just before his death, you wouldn''t think it was suicide. Dan looked towards Mike, expecting him to rebuke Joe. Instead, Mike was staring down at his meal with a serious look on his face. Mike was recalling the unnerving moments leading up to Robs death. Dan: Well If its murder, do you have any leads? Did you see who killed him? he nervously asked. Mike: No on both accounts. Joe: Actually, I may have a lead. Mike: You have something? Joe: Im going to get that wooden object properly analyzed by an expert. But, I might need your help doing that Mikey. Mike: I thought we were waiting on the Witch Hunters to help us analyze it? Joe: We are, but in the meantime I wanna ask someone else to look at it. Mike: Who? I thought you already talked to the Occult researcher division and enchanters. Oh, wait. You''re going to go ask the University to look at it, aren''t you, he said with dread in his voice. Mike was recalling all the times he interacted with the university, and every time it was a headache. They were difficult to deal with and anytime the police tried to make a request to them, they made you do so much paperwork. Getting a response to a request would take months, with no guarantee that you would receive the assistance you asked for. It was a bureaucratic nightmare to deal with the university. Joe: No, he shook his head. The Occult division identified it as a cult related object, so who better to ask about it other than a cultist. Chapter 22 - Cult Seeker It was three in the afternoon. Joe and crew had just driven from the diner and parked their vehicle in an isolated parking lot in the southernmost edge of the city on Market street. From there the three investigators walked for about ten minutes north, until they came upon a Bar on the corner of the street. The bars name was called the Salty Pickle. It looked like a clean and well established place, like many of the other stores on Market street. It also didnt look like there were any customers inside yet. Joe: Good, we got here before his customers showed up. Dan: So, you''re saying there is a cultist that works at this place? Joe: Something like that. Mike, you stay out here and teach the kid the ropes. Ill call you if I need ya. Mike nodded his head. Joe separated from the group and entered the bar, leaving Dan and Mike by themselves outside under the afternoon sun. Dan: Is he going to be OK? I thought cultists were super dangerous. Mike: Actually, hed be safer if it was just a cultist in there, but no, hes going to talk to Big Jack. Dan: Is he in danger? Whos Big Jack? Mike: Dont worry about Joe. As for Big Jack. hes a former criminal thats gone straight. We have a bit of history with him. Gotten a bunch of good info from him in the past. Dan: Will he know about the wooden object? Mike: Probably not. But, he might know where to find a cultist to ask about it. Dan: Is that a good idea? Mike: No, but when Joe is driven like this, I can''t stop him. Besides, I get the feeling that Big Jack doesn''t know any cultists. So, this will probably quickly turn into a dead end anyways. Mike was confident in this assertion. Cults were always way too unstable and unpredictable to deal with. Both things that crime organizations hated when interacting with other groups. For that reason, he was pretty sure that Big Jack didnt have any interactions with cultist in the past. The two Investigators stood there in silence for a couple minutes before Mike spoke up. Mike: Well, I still gotta teach you the ropes. So, ask me any question about anything you''re still unsure about. Dan: Oh, OK, he paused momentarily to think about what he wanted to ask. Um, can I ask you why Joe doesn''t seem to like me. Mike: Dont take it personally, he does that to all the new people that are put on our unit. As to why, I''m not entirely sure myself. I suspect, but dont know for sure, hes afraid of getting people killed. Dan: Is that because what happened in the Skull Crusher investigation? I heard that some people in your unit died. Mike: Look at you. Already connecting the dots, but yeah. We both took it hard, particularly Joe. I think he blames himself for their deaths. Mike''s comment was followed by another awkward silence before he spoke again. Mike: Is there anything else you want to ask? Dan: Um, If its OK, can I ask about that conversation you had with Joe at Headquarters earlier today? Mike: Sure. Ask away. Dan: Why wasn''t Joe more fired up at the missing officer? I dont mean to presume, but from my interactions, he seems like the kind of man that would rush off to investigate a fellow missing officer. But, he was very dismissive of it. Mike: Thats a fair assumption. A lot of people know him as a hothead. However, dont mistake his temperament for recklessness. Despite how he acts and sounds, he is a realist. Joe knows the limits of what he can and cant do, and purely focuses on the thing he knows he can. When it came to Renny, he knew that there was nothing to be done. Dan: He just gave up, so quickly like that? Surely, there was something that could be done. Mike: Ugh, I didn''t really wanna talk about the east side with you yet, but I guess we can talk a little about it now, there was a pause as Mike organized his thoughts before speaking again. There is something you need to understand when it comes to the east side of Graheel. No cop patrols, investigates, or responds to calls from the east side of Graheel. Dan looked at Mike with a blank confused look for a few seconds before responding in surprise. Dan: What! Why? he said in disbelief. Mike: We dont involve ourselves at all in the east side. I know, Its a unique situation in Graheel for sure. There is a complicated history as to why its like this. You see, that side of the city is completely controlled by a criminal organization called the Nighthounds. If they find an officer snooping around there, they kill them. Dan: Wait, theres a crime syndicate killing cops on the east side of the city, and we''re not gonna do anything about it? Mike: Its not just a crime syndicate, its THE crime syndicate. They are the biggest crime organization in the entire Golgatta Peninsula, maybe even in all of the Union states. They have too much power and influence for us to do anything about it. Dan: But, they''re murdering fellow officers. How can they get away with that? Mike: Like I said, they have influence and a complicated history to it all. Ten years ago there was an event that locals call the Bloody Days. It lasted for half a year and there was a lot of violence between us and that organization, it turned the city into a war zone during that time. It was so bad, even the university got off their asses to help us, and it still didnt stop the violence. There were talks about bringing in the military and even firebombing the east side to get that situation under control. It was only after the former chief of police died and was replaced with our current chief that it finally stopped. Dan: How did Chief Murdock end the violence? Mike: We pulled out of the east end. There are rumors that the Chief made a secret agreement with the Nighthounds to do so. I dont know if its true, but I can''t say I care. The violence finally stopped and thats all that really matters to me. Dan: So, you''re just OK with that. We just let ourselves get chased out by some gangsters? Mike: Dan trust me. You weren''t there, you cant even begin to understand how fucked up that whole situation was. People were getting killed everyday. I watched friends come back to headquarters in body bags almost daily. You can frame it however you want, but the fact that we got the violence to stop is a great accomplishment in my books, he said slightly emotionally. Dan looked away and towards the ground. He felt that he may have said the wrong thing to Mike and was upsetting him. Dan: Sorry. Youre right. I dont really know what it was like. Mike: Thats OK. Just know you gotta stay out of the east, especially if you''re in uniform. Anyways, dont worry about it too much. Its not like we gave them complete free reign. We have a special unit that handles the stuff that happens in that part of the city. They''re just very discrete about it, as to avoid a situation that would start another Bloody Days like event. Leave it to them and be like Joe, focus on the stuff you know you can do. Dan nodded his head at Mike. Dan: Um, I just have one more question about the whole east side thing. How exactly did the Bloody Days start? Mike: Ugh, I didnt think this would turn into a history lesson. As I understand, it started because Mike was interrupted by the sound of someone yelling in the bar. ???: GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE JOE!! Mike: Hold that thought, he said as he began to enter the Salty Pickle. Dan followed behind Mike. The inside of the bar was dim and illuminated by low hanging light fixtures. There was a very long bar table with a shelf pack full of bottles behind it with a row of stools in front of it. Countless chairs and tables spread about the bar and despite there being no customers, there was a slight haze in the air as if someone had been smoking. In a central part of the space was a table that was flipped over with Joe standing on one side of it, and a large man on the other side. The person across from Joe was a tall and portly man with short salt and pepper hair. He wore a white button up shirt that looked like he was about to burst out with his bulk. In his hand, the person brandished a metal pipe and was waving it menacingly at Joe. Joe: Calm down Jack! he yelled at the man. Jack: Fuck you Joe! the man yelled back. The large man tried to walk around the table to get at Joe, but Joe kept moving around the flipped table to keep it interposed between the two of them. Mike: Whats going on! Mike yelled out. Jack: "Oh, so you''re here too Mike! Take your fucking friend and fuck off!" he yelled at Mike without taking his eyes off Joe. Joe: Just tell me if you want to know and I''ll go. Jack swung his metal pipe at Joe, but missed due to the flipped table in the way. Mike: Cmon Jack. You and I know you''re not gonna be able to beat up Joe. Jack: You fucking white mages are all the same. Think you can say and do whatever you want to us folks without aether. But you know what, one good whack to the head and you wont be so high and mighty. Mike: You know thats not what I''m saying, Jack. Cmon, we''re friends, weve helped each other in the past. Jack: Were not friends. We made a transaction and that all there is to it, he said while kicking the flipped table at Joe. Joe managed to move quickly to the side and avoid the table kicked at him, but now there was no longer a table between them anymore. Seeing that, Jack made a B-line towards Joe. Mike just sighed at the upcoming altercation. Not interested in seeing a fight breaking out, he pulled out a small black bag with a noose from under his coat. He loosened the noose and waved some hand gestures around it. As he did that, a stream of black sand flew out of the bag towards Jack. The stream of sand quickly wrapped around his ankles and wrist and held him in place, stopping his advance on Joe. Jack: What the fuck! Let me go! he yelled out, while struggling against the sand bindings on him. Joe: Good job Mikey. Now we Mhm. Joe''s sentence was cut off. Some of Mike''s sand had also flown towards Joe and wrapped around his mouth, silencing him. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. With a sigh, Mike calmly walked up to Jack and stood in front of him. Jack was still struggling and pulling at the sand bindings as he approached. Mike: OK, look. Weve done this three times now. You fight Joe for like an hour and he keeps annoying you until you give up and tell him what he wants to know. So, can we just skip the fighting and save everyone the headache? Jack red in the face, looked down at Mike, then at Joe, then finally at the now broken table that he kicked at Joe. There was an angry frown on his face, but he was clearly still thinking about what to do next. A few seconds of silence went by before Jack finally answered. Jack: Fuck! Fine. Ill entertain your questions, but only if you pay for the broken table. Mike: OK. Deal, he said, just glad he could skip the fighting between Jack and Joe. Mike made another gesture and the sand binding Jack released itself and flew back into the small black bag he carried. He then walked over to Joe who still had the black sand wrapped around his mouth, preventing him from speaking. Mike: And you behave. No antagonizing Jack, got it. he said as he made another gesture to release the binding on Joe. Joe: Blech. I think I got some sand in my mouth. Mike had managed to defuse the tension in the room. Once everything calmed down, Joes team and Jack made their way to the bar table. The three investigators each took a seat at one of the bar stools at the table, while Jack stood behind the bar and poured a drink for himself. Jack: By the way, whats with the kid? Are you guys running a daycare now? Mike: He''s a trainee, dont mind him. Jack: Oh God. Please tell me you''re not training him to be another Joe. Mike: Trust me. Im not gonna let that happen. Joe looked at Mike with indignation at his comments. Jack: "Anyways, what do you want? Oh, let me make this clear. I dont know jack about any cult shit, so stop asking." Mike: You didnt interact with any of them in the past, or hear any rumors about them. Jack: No, I didn''t. What rumors I did and do hear about them, I dont keep track of. The only thing I know about those freaks is to stay away from them. Mike: You used to be part of the Skull Crushers. They were the second biggest crime gang in Graheel back in the day, and there would be a lot of money smuggling items for those cults. You''re telling me your former gang never had any interaction with cultists at all, even to smuggle stuff for them. Jack: I dont know, maybe. I cant speak to everything the Skull Crushers did in the past, only for the stuff I was involved in. And, I can guarantee you, I never have or would involve myself with those nameless cult bastards. Mike turned toward Joe to see what he was doing. Joe was looking down in deep contemplation at the information he was hearing. Mike could tell what was going on in Joe''s head. He was experiencing frustration at hitting another dead end on a lead. Dan: You were part of the Skull Crushers? Does that mean you murdered people? Mike: Now''s not the time Dan. Jack: Oh, is the milk drinker scared to be sitting across from a murderer, cause yeah. I killed so many people back in the day, he said in a way that was hard to tell if he was being sarcastic. Mike: Jack, don''t mess with him. You were a smuggler and didnt kill anyone, at least, none we know of. Jack just leaned on the bar table and smiled at Dan with a smug look. Joe: Do you know anyone that is cult-adjacent? Jack turned towards Joe and was starting to look angry again. Jack: No! I fucking told you I dont know any cultists! Joe: I''m not asking for an actual cultist, just someone that could be mistaken as a cultist. Like, someone that practices the old faith. Jack looked at Joe in disbelief and shook his head. Jack: Do you honestly think that I would know where to find a fucking druid? A druid in the city no less. Try asking a farmer or someone outside the city if you want to find someone like that. The Old Faith was a religion that was said to predate the Church of Light. Its practitioners and preachers were known as druids. The druids were nomadic and favored by farmers living in the countryside, as the rituals and rites druids performed were said to help improve crop yields. Sometimes people not from the countryside would mistake druids as cultists. They also almost never came into the cities. So, the way Jack responded was to be expected. Joe: I dont know. You know all kinds of weird people Jack. Maybe you know someone that was a former druid living nearby. Jack: No, I don''t know anybody like that. If your going to start annoying me again, you can just fucking leave. Mike: Cmon Jack. Help us out. We''ve been good to each other. Me and Joe manage to expunge your records and give you a clean slate. That wasn''t easy for us to do. So, could you at least point us in the right direction. Jack just stood there looking at Mike. He was contemplating something before he finally spoke again. Jack: Sigh. I might know someone, but I''ll only tell you about them under two conditions. Both Mike and Joe looked at each other knowingly then back at jack. Nodding their head in agreement at Jack''s conditions. Jack: First, you cant tell him or anybody where you heard this from. Second, please dont arrest the guy. Hes a good guy and is not doing anything that particularly bad. Mike: As long as hes not doing anything really messed up, like murder, then fine. We agree to your condition. Jack: If hes murdering people, then I didnt really know him and that''s fine. The name you want is Wren Cummy. Hes a herbalist that runs a business called the Mortar & Pestle on the west end near the Cathedral. Joe: Is he like a druid, or something related? Jack: NoProbably not. Mike: What was that pause? Something you''re not saying Jack: He may have told me he was a druid at one point. Mike: What do you mean he may have told you? Jack: Look, me and him got real high off shrooms one time, and he may have told me he was a druid, but I don''t know for sure. He could have misspoke because of the shrooms, or I''m misremembering cause of the shrooms. I''m not even sure hes a good lead for you guys. Mike: If hes not a good lead, why even tell us? Jack: Because I don''t know anybody else that I could point you towards. Im just grasping at anything here, so that you leave me the fuck alone. Mike: Let me get this straight. Hes a herbalist that you did shrooms with. Did he by chance sell you the shrooms, cause I feel like a herbalist would know how to cultivate that kind of stuff. Jack didn''t say anything in response to the question and just stood there silently. Mike: OK, your silence tells me everything. Hes your drug dealer. Jack: Cmom, leave him alone. He only deals in shrooms and he doesn''t sell to kids. If guys like us want to get high, why should cops get involved? Mike: I actually agree. Were still gonna keep our promise and not do or say anything about that. Just wanted to understand your relationship. Can you please mark down where his store is? he said, as he pulled out a map of the city from his jacket and handed it to Jack. Jack took the map and examined it for a few seconds before grabbing a pen and circling an area on the map. Jack: There, you got your info. Now get out before my regulars show up. Joe: "Just one more question before we go." Jack let out a long groan. Jack: What? Joe: Whos Mark? Jack: Mark, who? Joe: I dont know his last name. Jack: Well, how the fuck do you expect me to know. There are probably thousands of Marks that live in this city. Joe: He was someone that was killed by Rob. Jack: That still doesn''t help me. Rob personally killed so many people back then, I can''t remember every single one of them. Joe: How many Marks could he have possibly killed? Im also specifically talking about a Mark that may have been killed around the time Rob disappeared. So, think. This is important. Jack took a few sips of his drink while racking his brain. A few seconds went by as Jack thought about it. His expression went from serious to surprise, then finally to that of anguish as he remembered something. The atmosphere around Jack changed. He no longer came across as an easily angered man, but someone reminiscing about a sad past. Jack: Oh fuck he said softly. Where did you hear about that? Joe: From Rob himself. Jack: Oh, yeah. Heard through the grapevine you guys got him You should be asking him about that. Joe: I would if I could, but hes dead. Jack: Really, no loss for the world then, he said as he shook his drink in a way that caused the ice in it to spin in the liquid. Joe: Who was he? Jack: A good kid that got involved with a bad group, he chuckles a bit. That was actually a lot of us in the Skull Crusher back in the day. We all joined to survive, Mark was no different. He was a courier in the gang, he said while looking down at his drink. Mike: He was a smuggler, like you? Jack: No. I moved a lot a shit at once. Couriers were the younglings that moved small amounts of product and messages between other members of the gang. You can think of them kinda like mailmen. Mark was probably the best courier in the gang. He could wizz through the streets undetected to deliver packages in no time. It was like he could be at two places at once. Mike: It sounds like you personally knew him. Jack: I did. smugglers and couriers worked closely together. So, I interacted with him for a fair bit. He was a little strange, but still a genuinely good kid. Joe: Strange how? Jack: Just a little absent minded and forgetful. Would forget previous conversations we recently had, but I assumed he was like that because he was tired all the time. Mike: Why was he so tired? Jack: Like I said, It was like he could be at two places at once. He delivered insane amounts of packages and messages. Way more than any other of the kids in the gang. Dont know how he managed, but it must have been exhausting. Dan: Excuse me. The way you''re talking about the couriers makes it sound like they were kids. Jack: Thats cause they were. Cops are less likely to search a kid than an adult. And back then, there was no shortage of desperate kids and orphans looking to make a buck. So, sadly kids were used a lot as couriers. Dan reeled back with visible disgust in his face at the thought of using children to deliver illegal goods. Joe not showing any visible change in his demeanor pressed on with his questioning. Joe: Do you know why Rob killed him? Jack stared deeply into his drink for a little while. Thinking about the past a little before speaking. Jack: He wanted out. And, when Rob was in charge, you couldnt just leave the Skull Crushers. So, when Rob caught wind of Mark wanting out, Rob did the gang''s namesake and then dumped his body into the river, there was silence that followed after he said that. Jack was deeply in anguish as he talked. I wish he had told me he wanted out. I might have been able to sneak him out of the city without Rob knowing. Joe: Do you know how Rob found out, or even why Mark tried to get out. I''m sure he knew the risk of leaving. Jack: I dont know how Rob found out, and yeah. We all knew the risk of leaving, but around that time was the Bloody Days. A lot of us wanted out around then, me as well. The Nighthounds weren''t only hitting on cops and politicians, but the Skull Crushers as well. Bunch of people in the gang up and left. Some went into hiding, others joined the Nighthounds to save their asses. Rob started killing a bunch of us that made even the slightest suggestion of leaving, to try and stop the bleeding of membership. Mark probably wanted out so he wouldnt get attacked. Joe: Do you remember when that happened? Jack: I think It was just a month before Rob disappeared. Sigh, if only Mark kept his head down and waited a little longer. He could have left safely once Rob was gone. There was another painful silence that filled the room after that comment. Jack swirled the liquid in his cup while staring deeply into it before downing the contents and slamming the glass on the table. While not looking at the investigators in front of him, Jack poured himself another drink before speaking again. Jack: Poor kid. He only got involved because he needed the money for his mother. Mike: His mother wasn''t well? Do you know if she is still around? Jack: Dont know the details, but yeah. Mark told me she wasn''t doing well. That''s why he joined the Skull Crushers. He needed the money, so he could take care of her. As for whether she is still around, don''t know. Joe: Do you know anybody else that knows Mark? Jack: Not really. Cant say I kept track of the people Mark interacted with. Mike: How about where he used to live. Jack: I think It''s somewhere on St Vaal street. Joe: Where specifically on St Vaal. What was his address? Jack: I dont know. I just know it was somewhere on that street. Jack paused for a second before letting out a long sigh. Thats all I know, so please go. I dont want to talk about Mark anymore. Joe nodded and grabbed Dan and began to leave Jack alone in his bar. Mike put some money on the table for the ruined furniture and the three investigators vacated the space. The sun was about to go down and the nightlife in this end of the city was beginning. There were more people walking around and the neon signs of the various establishments were now on. Once all three of them were outside, Mike started talking to Joe. Mike: Where did you hear about that Mark person? Joe: It was one of the last things Rob said before he freaked out and tried to strangle me. Mike: Ohh, OK. I completely forgot about that. Joe: Yeah, well a lot was going on at that moment back then. So, I get you not remembering. Mike: So we got two leads now. Assuming, you dont want to skip pursuing that whole Wren Cummy lead. Which seemed kind of iffy to me. Joe: Leave no stone unturned. Besides, we still might learn something from that herbalist. Talking to Wren Cummy will also be a lot easier than finding Marks home on Vaal street. Dan: Why''s that? Is Vaal street really long or has a lot of homes on it. Joe: Not particularly, the problem is that its on the east side. Chapter 23 - Late Night Eavesdropping Beyond the veil of our reality exist dark and malevolent forces. They call out to the people of our world and tempt them with evil. Those that give in to the temptation begin to worship them as gods. The names of these beings are unspeakable, as a result, those that worship those forces have instead given them epithets to convey the natures of these beings. The worshipers of these entities have formed organizations and groups named after the epithets of their dark gods. Thus, the Cults of the Nameless Gods were born. Of the countless numbers of cults, there exist three that have shaped the history of the western continent for the worst. The names of these groups are as follows: Rattle Bone, Endless War, Blood Caller. These cults'' practices have been banned everywhere and membership made illegal. The actions of these cults have caused countless tragedies and loss of life throughout the land. If one is to come in contact with a member of one of these cults, they should inform authorities so that these individuals can be contained or eliminated. Writings of Light Scholar Lukka on The Machinations of the Nameless Cults A week had gone by since the accident that happened in the courtyard, where Alan had saved Edward. It was the talk of the university for a while amongst the students, but exams were around the corner. Talks of that event were short lived since many were busy focusing on their studies. In one of the university study halls that was beside the cafeteria, Alan and his two friends were sitting at a table with a bunch of books and papers splayed out in front of them. Jafar: Alan! Stop dozing off! he yelled. Alan: Huh? Alan was woken up from his daydreaming by Jafar''s voice. Jafar: By the light. Why am I even helping you? Im not even the one whos taking the classes on cults. Sere: "Well, it helps me. I still have to take those exams on the nameless cults." Alan: Sorry Jafar. Once you started going off on that reading, I just couldnt help falling asleep. This whole cult stuff is just so boring. Jafar: If its so boring, why even take this course. Alan: I didnt have a choice. Its not an elective. Occult studies are mandatory in the Lionheart college. Sere: Yeah, its the same in the Silverwings too. Jafar let out a deep sigh and shook his head. Jafar: Fine. Lets go over the basics with some trivia, so you guys dont completely bomb on your tests. Can either of you name the three big cults and what they''re particularly known for? Sere: Oh, that''s easy! Theres the Rattle Bone cult. That group is all about necromancy. Then there is the Blood Callers. I think they have some sort of weird prophecy related to blood. Then there was the um, what were they called again? Alan: The Endless War Cult. They exist to destabilize countries and perpetuate a never ending war between them. Their members are psychotic battle junkies that revel in the combat and the violence that occurs in war-zones. The organization is funded by mercenary contracts that they take from anybody that will give it to them. They are also the leading group suspected in orchestrating the destabilization and collapse of the Gix empire, resulting in the formation of the Warring States, he said, leaning into his hand while looking bored. Both Jafar and Sere looked at Alan dumbfounded at the detailed information he just presented to them. Alan was not the most book smart person, so it was surprising. It was way more information than they thought Alan would know. Jafar: So you were listening? he said, curious to know if Alan was secretly listening and pretending to sleep. Alan: Oh, no. Please dont mistake me. I know a fair amount about that cult specifically. The other two, I have no clue about. Sere gently smacked her forehead with her hand and had a look of realization on her face. Sere: Oh, yeah. You''re originally from the Gix Empire. So you would know Oh. I''m sorry if talking about this upsets you, she said with a look of concern for Alan. Alan: Please dont worry about me. Ive had years of therapy to process what happened to me and my family back then in the Gix Empire, and have come to terms with it, he said, with a fake smile. There was an awkward silence that filled the space between Alan and his friends. When Alan had moved to Graheel, Sere and Jafar had quickly become his friends. The three of them had been friends since they were little. Both Jafar and Sere knew a little about Alan''s past and how he lost his sister. They have actively always tried to avoid bringing up stuff about Alan''s former home. Because, despite what Alan said about being fine about what happened to him, Sere and Jafar always felt a deep sense of sadness from him when it came up. And, they didnt like seeing their friend sad. The silence between them was broken by the voice of another boisterous sounding person. ???: Hey Alan! There you are. Everyone sitting at the table turned their head towards the voice. Approaching them was another Lionheart student in his red uniform. He stood around six feet ( 1.82 meters) tall, shorter than Alans imposing six foot seven (2 meters), and had green eyes and short brown hair. The person carried himself with confidence and was rapidly approaching the group. This was Cris. The same Cris that Alan was friends with in the Gix empire. They both ended up living separately in different cities, and it caused their friendship to become estranged for a little while. It was only once they both started attending Graheel University did they start to reconnect with each other. They both became regular sparring partners and since they were both in the same college, they took a lot of the same classes together and would team up on projects. Sere: Hey Cris, she said. Cris: Oh, hi to you too Sere, and Jafar, he said, greeting them. He then turned toward Alan. Noticing that Cris was about to ask him something. Alan spoke up and cut him off. Alan: Sorry Cris. I can''t spar with you today. I''m studying for the upcoming exams. Cris: What? Cmon, there''s also a bunch of physical combat tests we have to do too. Alan: Yeah, I think I''m pretty good in that department. Its all this written stuff I''m having trouble with. That''s the area I gotta focus on and study for. Cris: But who am I going to train with for the tests? Jafar: Do you even need it? Aren''t they calling you a prodigy in the Lionheart? Cris managed to get into the Lionheart on a scholarship due to his excellent abilities in combat magic. He was a natural and some of the teachers even claimed that he might become a master combat mage one day. Cris: Still gotta do the practice. I need someone that can keep up with me. Alan: And you think I can??? How many times have you kicked my ass in those practice fights? Cris: And every time you get a little better, " he said, playfully. Alan: Forget it Cris. Go ask one of the seniors in the Lionhearts to spar with you. Theyll be able to help you better than me. Cris: No way. Theyll kick my ass. I might be good, but those seniors are still leagues ahead of me. Alan: Oh, so its OK that my ass gets beaten, but not your own. Sere started to chuckle at the two Lionheart students fighting in front of her. Jafar: Get a room for you two. You act like married couples. Alan: We do not, he said, adamantly. Cris straightened his posture and started to look a little more serious. Cris: Anyways, I''m not here for combat practice. Alan: Thank the light. Cris: Remember that Gilded Sun guy you saved a while ago, Edward Scefer. Alan: Yeah, what about him? Jafar: Oh no, are the Gilded Suns going after Alan now, because of what happened? The conflict between the Lionheart and Gilded Suns was intense. The fact that Alan, a Lionheart student, saved one of their members was probably humiliating to them. It wouldn''t be hard to imagine them trying to do something against Alan, even if he did save a fellow member of that group. Cris: Its not that. Besides, Alans got me and the entire Lionhearts backing him if they tried something. No, its this, he pulled out a school newspaper and threw onto the table Alan was sitting at. The paper had all sorts of miscellaneous information and local news in it, but it was the header that shocked everyone sitting at the table. Sere: W-what? Edwards dead, how? The headline on the paper read: Gilded Sun Student Edward Scefer Died In Accident. A picture of a body covered in a white sheet surrounded by other students was the picture used on the front of the newspaper. Cris: Apparently, he tripped and fell down the stairs in building B6, and smashed his skull open in the process. Killing him instantly. Jafar: Wow. Survived that statue almost falling on him, only to trip and die. I guess fate is funny like that, he said, trying to add a little levity to the news. Cris: Yeah, I thought that Alan should know about this. It sucks that your heroism went to waste on that guy. Alan: This cant be a coincidence. No way it is, he said, with a serious look on his face. Jafar: You''re not going to go off about that guy you saw last week. Cris: What guy last week? Sere: Last week when Alan saved Edward, he said he thinks he saw a guy that purposely caused the accident. Cris: Really? I went there and saw the area where the statue fell. There were big ass cracks on the side of the walls surrounding the courtyard. It even looked like some other pieces of overhanging architecture fell since the incident with Edward. It didnt look like something that could be planned. It just seems like poor maintenance of an old building. Jafar: Thats what we tried to tell him too, but hes insistent that it wasn''t natural. If someone wanted to cause something like that and make it look like an accident, they would have to use magic, yet that courtyard was filled with mages and no one sensed any strange aether fluctuation when it happened. Alan: I know it seems unlikely, but something tells me what happened at the courtyard wasn''t natural. Alan knew what he saw, he just couldnt explain it. He didn''t know how or why that person tried to cause that accident, but he could feel the animosity the Shroom Pact student had towards Edward, and the disappointment at the statue missing him. Sere: Anyways, we gotta get back to studying. Wanna join us Cris? We''re going over occult studies and she said, before being interrupted by Alan shouting. Alan: Thats the guy! Jafar: What are you going on about? Alan: Its the guy that caused the accident, he said while pointing at the picture on the front of the newspaper. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Everyone leaned in to see what he was talking about. Alan was pointing at one of the onlooking students in the background of the photo of Edwards covered corpse. It was a plain looking student with brown hair wearing the green robes of the Shroom Pact college. He blended in perfectly with the crowd and would have likely gone unnoticed if Alan didnt point him out. Jafar: Thats the guy you were talking about? The guy in the back with the green Shroom Pact robes? Alan: Yeah, its definitely him. Hes the one I saw when the statue almost fell on Edward. Its the same guy. Sere: You''re sure? Alan: Yeah, I''m sure. Do you guys see what I mean? What are the chances that guy would also be there when Edward died? Its not a coincidence, that guy murdered Edward while making it look like an accident. Sere: I mean when you put it like that. It does seem a little strange. Cris: I dont know about that. The actual report about it had a dozen witness accounts, and they all said the same thing. Apparently, the floor was wet from a recent mopping and he just slipped and fell. I dont know how you plan around that. Jafar: You would have to use some kind of magic, and this a university full of mages. Im sure those twelve witness accounts were also mages, and would have said something if they felt the aether fluctuation of magic being used. Sere: But Jafar, it does seem a little strange that person was there when Edward died. Jafar: Not really. Tons of students go in and out of that building all the time. That guy could have just been walking to his class and stumbled upon that whole thing. Alan let out a sigh. Alan: So, you still dont believe me. Jafar: Alan, youre my friend. I believe that you believe this, but I''m just being realistic. Even if you''re right, what can be done? Theres not any evidence that could be presented to anybody that would do anything. All we have is your gut feeling and a slightly odd circumstance, He said, as he re-adjusted how he was sitting. And, if I am perfectly honest, I don''t really care what happens to a Gilded Sun. Sere: Jafar! How could you say that? Wishing death on someone. Jafar: Im not wishing death on anyone. Im just saying I''m not going to shed a tear if a rich noble dies. Alan: Do you think it will stop at that? he said in a very serious tone. Alan''s friend stopped the banter as the atmosphere around him changed and became more serious. Alan: I get that no one here likes the nobles and its easy to dismiss this, cause its that group thats suffering, But, as much as an asshole Edward might have been, he still didnt deserve to die. And, there is no clear indication that this killer will stop at one Gilded Sun member. There might be more deaths. Jafar let out a long sigh. Jafar: Its still out of our hands. So, are we still going to keep reading through The Machinations of the Nameless Cults, or do we want to argue about a hypothetical murder for the next hour? Sere: Sigh. Jafars right. Lets just focus on studying, she said before turning to Cris. Care to join our study group? Cris: Nah. I think I''m good. Alan: You''re gonna fail the written tests. Cris: Fat chance of that happening. I can afford to spar all the time because I''ve already memorized all the written stuff, he said proudly. Jafar: I guess they dont call him a prodigy for nothing. Cris: Anyways, if you''re not going to spar with me, I''ll go find someone else that will. Alan: Ok, talk to ya later Cris. Cris said his goodbyes and he left the group. Alan and his friends continued to study the occult for the next two hours, until it started to get late. Sere and Alan headed home as it started to get dark, but Jafar stayed behind to continue studying by himself in the library. ?????????????????? Night fell upon the university. The University library at this time was abandoned. The shadows of this place became more pronounced and forbearing than they were in the day. It was as if this place was hiding secrets from those seeking knowledge. The only light in this place came from the moonlight shining in from the windows, and a single solitary lamp in the corner by a desk. It was by that lamp that Jafar sat while reading through a stack of books while writing down notes. It was midnight. There was no one here beside Jafar. He was technically not supposed to be here at this hour, but he had a good relationship with the librarian that was working that day. She would allow him to remain in the library after it was closed as long as he cleaned up after himself and locked the door on his way out. Most of his own study time had been taken up by him helping his friends prepare for their own exams. So, he decided to stay late, allowing him to catch up on his own studies. Jafar was beginning to feel a little drowsy and was debating in his mind if he should leave now. He knew that studying while tired was not a great idea. He wouldn''t be able retain much of the information while exhausted, but he knew that the notes he was creating would be helpful for further study in the future. So, it was a debate between getting some shut eye and filling out his notes. Do I go home and get some rest, or do I stay and finish taking notes? There is no guarantee I''ll be able to read these books tomorrow if someone else gets a hold of them before me. I dont know if they have enough copies of these books for all the Ember Gear students taking the same exams as me. Jafar pondered to himself. Jafars query was interrupted by the sound of a metal door being opened somewhere in the library. Oh shit. Is that security? If they find me I''m so screwed! He thought in panic. While the librarian he knew allowed him to stay in the library after it was closed up, that was only for an extra hour. It was now way past the hour grace period he was given. If he was found in the library now, they might suspect him of something malicious and could possibly expel him over this. Realizing the situation he was in, he quickly turned off the light beside him and grabbed his stuff. He could hear footsteps rapidly approaching. Knowing he didnt have time to flee, he quickly and quietly hid under the table he was sitting at and moved the chairs around so that they were in front of him. It wasn''t the greatest hiding spot, but it was the only thing he could think of. He silently waited with controlled breath. Hoping that he wouldnt be found. Jafar concentrated on the approaching footsteps and noticed it wasn''t just one pair of footsteps, but two. The footsteps continued to get closer, until they stopped just in front of where Jafar was hiding. Jafar closed his eyes and held his breath. He was praying that he wasn''t noticed. ???: OK. We can speak candidly here, the voice confidently stated. ???: Are you sure? the other voice nervously said. Thank the light. They havent noticed me. But, I think I''ve heard those voices before. Jafar quietly thought to himself. Jafar carefully and quietly peeked out where he was hiding to see who was talking. The two people he could see were wearing the robes of teachers of the university. They were both male. One wore the black and gray robes of the Gray Scale college and the other wore the blue and white robes of a Silverwing. The Gray Scale teacher had black hair tied up in a short ponytail and a light complexion with a sharp look in his eye. The other person had a darker complexion with gray hair and wore thick glasses that made his eyes look bigger. The Silverwing teacher looked extremely nervous. It took Jafar a little while, but he was able to recognize the people here. It was professor of arcane law Sorin Black of the Grey Scale College, and surgeon professor and manager of the university morgue Pitter Patariki of the Silverwing College. These were both teachers that taught classes Jafar had attended in the past. What are they doing here? Jarfar thought to himself. Sorin: It should be fine. There is no one here at this hour and the doors automatically lock themselves at eight. Short of another high ranking faculty member, no one is getting in here." Pitter: If you say so, he said while wiping sweat off his forehead. Sorin: Now, tell me what is so important that you insisted on talking somewhere privately. Pitter: Its about the boy who died recently. The child from the Scefer family. They''re talking about Edward? Jafar thought while listening curiously. Sorin: What about him? Pitter: When the body was moved to my department for storage, I performed an autopsy secretly on him. Sorin: What! Why would you do that! Were already in enough shit with the Scefer family over their son dying on campus! Us performing an autopsy on their dead son''s body without their consent could be seen as desecration! he half yelled out. Pitter: I know! I didnt want to do it, but the Gilded Sun headmistress made me! he half yelled back. Sorin: Why would Jenna make you do this? She deals with those rich fucks all the time, so she should know better than anyone not do something like this. Pitter: She told me that she wanted confirmation on his death and to report anything odd about it. Sorin: Confirmation? Why does she need to confirm anything! If you look at his body, it doesn''t take a genius to figure out how he died. His skull is cracked open from the fall. Pitter: I know! Thats what I tried to tell her, but she wouldn''t listen! Sorin: So now when the Scefer family comes to collect the body, they''re going to find a whole bunch of incisions on his body. Pitter: No they wont. I didnt do anything super invasive like that. Sorin: But you still did something invasive, right? Professor Patariki turned away from Sorin with a pained look that emitted his guilt. Sorin: Great. Now we have to hope that the Scefer Family dont perform their own private autopsy on their son. Otherwise, they might just find out that someone was tampering with their sons body, he said while staring directly into Patariki''s eyes. Pitter: That wont be a problem. Any oddity that might be detected from what I did, could be chalked up to damage done from moving the body. Sorin leaned back and began to cross his arms. Sorin:OK then. I think I see where this is going. You want me to help you deal with Jenna. Im assuming she is trying to push you to do a more invasive autopsy. Is that whats going on? Pitter: Yes. No. Kinda? Its complicated. Sorin: OK, what exactly is the problem?, he said as he uncrossed his arms. Pitter: Look, I did a very basic autopsy. Like you said, I didn''t expect to find anything strange about his cause of death, and I didn''t. But, I did find something odd about the body itself. Professor Sorin''s demeanor changed and he began to look even more serious than he did before. Sorin: What did you find? he said, while staring intensely at Patariki and gauging his response. Pitter: I found formaldehyde. Sorin: On him? Pitter: No! It was in him. It was in his blood. Sorin: How? Pitter: I dont know. Thats the problem. Sorin: Have you told Jenna this? Pitter: No. I have only told you. Sorin: Ok. Just give me a sec to think this through Professor Black began to pace back and forth in deep thought. Professor Patariki waited patiently while this was done. After a minute, Professor Black stopped pacing and turned back to Patariki and began speaking again. Sorin: OK. Here is what were going to do. Youre going to tell Jenna that you found nothing strange. Pitter: But I did find something strange. Sorin: No, you found a fuck up. It sounds like someone in your department processed the corpse. I believe you guys put formaldehyde in bodies to preserve them, right? Sorin Black was referring to the fact how Patariki and his department managed and preserved corpses on campus for study. And, the process of pumping formaldehyde into corpses was one of the things they did. Pitter: We do, but there were very specific instructions not to touch that corpse. Besides, the amount of formaldehyde I found wasn''t enough to properly preserve the body. Sorin: And thats why I''m calling it a fuck up. It sounds like someone started processing the corpse, and stopped part way through when they realized they weren''t supposed to tamper with it. Pitter: No student or faculty member came forward to me about doing that. Sorin: Whoever did it is obviously going to hide the fact. They''re not going to admit to this and get into trouble for it. Or, do you honestly believe the Scefers family son was walking around with formaldehyde in his veins, like it was nothing. Pitter: I guess when you put it like that, it makes sense. Sorin: And thats why you''re going to tell Jenna, you found nothing. She wont have grounds to push you into doing a more invasive autopsy if you find nothing from the basic one you already did. And, if she tries to push you into doing it anyways, come to me and I''ll deal with her for you. Pitter: OK he said as he nodded his head. But, what do I do about the formaldehyde? I cant remove it from his blood. Sorin: When they come to collect the body, try to present it in the most gruesome way possible, without drawing any suspicion. Pitter: What do you mean? Sorin let out an annoyed sigh from Pitter questions. Sorin: When they come and look at their dead sons body, make sure they can see his cracked open skull. They wont have to do their own autopsy to figure out the cause of death if they see that. Thus, they wont pick up on the formaldehyde in his blood and start accusing us of desecration. Pitter: Right. I see what you mean. Sorin: Good, they shouldn''t be able to smell the formaldehyde either, so hopefully well be in the clear and the Scefers wont suspect anything. After Sorin said this, there was an awkward silence between the two professors before Pitter spoke up. Pitter: SorinThis doesn''t feel right, us trying to cover up this mistake. Sorin: Look Pitter, if you want to launch an internal investigation to figure out how this happened and prevent it from happening again, fine. But, the Scefers cant know about this, and by extension everyone else. It will be me and the rest of the Grey Scale professors who will have to deal with the legal fallout of this. So, sorry that this all feels wrong to you. Unless, you want to represent yourself in court without the assistance of the legal expertise of me and the Gray Scales college. Pitter: No, of course not! Sorin: I figured. So, keep everything we just said a secret, especially from Jenna. I will confer with some people I trust to make a plan, in the case the Scefers do discover tampering on their sons body. Anyways, it''s late, he said as he pulled out a pocket watch and looked at the time on it. I have classes to teach in the morning. So, unless theres any other details you want to tell me about, I''m going to head home now." Pitter nodded, and both professors proceeded to walk off and leave the library. Jaffar continued to hide under the table and didnt move until he heard the sound of a door opening closing off in the distance. He continued to wait for another few minutes to ensure that there really was no one else around. After some time had passed, he let out a long sigh of relief. He then crawled out from under the table and began to gather his things. Jafar: Thank the light. I cant believe they didn''t notice me. But, I definitely heard a bunch of stuff I think I shouldn''t have, he said while letting out another tired sigh. I guess Alan was right, something strange really is going on. Now, do I tell Alan or not about what I heard? Jafar silently pondered to himself before packing up his stuff and leaving the library. Chapter 24 - Expanding Conspiracy
Unlike most of society''s collective history, the founding of the university is based in fact and not myth. Before there was even the city of Graheel, there existed seven great archmages. Each had their own field of research and study. It was archmage Cain Mired that convinced the other six archmages to join forces to expand their research and pursue greater knowledge together. Thus, they built the university as a means to train their disciples and future generations in the arcane arts. They named the university Graheel, after the name of a famous giant known in legend to pursue lost knowledge. Over centuries, the university expanded and a city was built around the institution. In time, the city itself would be named after the university which it was built around. The seven archmages would pass through history, but in memory of them founding the university, seven colleges would be created in their honor. Each college would be named after an aspect of their personality and past, while embodying the values of each of the founders. Anybody attempting to become a student at Graheel mast be accepted into one of these Colleges. These colleges are known as: Gilded Sun, Lionheart, Shroom Pact, Silverwing, Grey Scale, Ember Gear, and Arcane Eye. Writings of Archmage Setta on The Founding of Graheel and its University A few days have passed since the incident with Jafar in the library. It was the middle of the afternoon. Alan was currently standing in a large sparring ring. The ring was made of stone and was at least 7000 square meters (8400 yards) in size with giant glowing crystals on the edges. The crystals were generating a very faint field around the area that could just barely be seen with the naked eye, but clearly felt by those who could manipulate aether. Alan had donned a thick set of padded training armor with a helmet. He was taking a defensive stance with a practice sword. Across from him was Cris, who wore a similar set of training gear and was also taking a similar stance to Alan. They were both prepared to spar against each other. Sitting on the sideline was Jafar. He looked uninterested in what was going on in the ring, and instead was reading a book. Not paying attention to what was happening in front of him. Cris: Hey Jafar, do mind giving us a countdown. The Ember Gear student let out a long sigh, before pulling himself away from his book. Jafar: Fine. On the count of three. One, twoTHREE! he yelled out. As soon as Jafar yelled out, Cris dashed towards Alan at an impossible speed. He had reinforced his body with magic with the fire element, to allow him greater movement and strength beyond the limits of a human. However, Alan had also done the same, but with the wind element. Allowing him even faster movement than even Cris. Cris swung his blade towards Alan. In one quick motion, Alan stepped to the side causing Cris to swing wide, missing him. Alan took this opportunity to make a counter attack while Cris was wide open. He thrust his sword at Cris, hitting his side and causing him to back away from Alan. Cris: Gah! Thats a good hit. I see your learning. Last time I did that, you flinched and I sent you flying, he said, complementing Alan. Alan: Yeah, thats not gonna happen again. Cris: Well I guess I gotta pick up the pace then, he said in a confident tone. With a quick swing of his blade, fire ignited around it. There was now fire surrounding Cris''s blade, both enhancing its destructive ability and range. He was also putting more aether into his body enhancement magic, creating a slightly reddish aura around him. Cris: Here I come!" He declared. Cris then launched himself toward Alan, cracking the ground beneath his feet from the force he applied. He was now moving even faster again thanks to the additional aether he was using. Alan: Crap! he yelled as Cris swung his sword towards him with an under slash. Cris was much faster this time and Alan couldnt dodge like before, so he opted to block it instead. This would prove to be a mistake for Alan. Both their blades collided. Alan could feel the heat and weight of Cris'' attack. It was heavy from all the aether he was concentrating in his sword. Alan had focused his own aether into his blade to better block the attack, but it wasn''t enough. The force of Cris'' strike was so hard that Alan couldnt push it back. And like what Cris had said that happened before, he pushed Alan''s sword back onto himself and sent him flying into the air. He was sent flying 30 meters (100 feet) into the air directly above Cris. Cris had done this to Alan last time they sparred. He had flung Alan high up into the air, causing Alan to panic before flailing and falling to the ground painfully. But, this time he kept his cool and was prepared for this. He focused his aether and started chanting. He was reciting a spell that he had just learned recently. Once he spoke the final verse of the spell, the air around him started to push on him from below and slow his fall. The wind also pushed his body upright and kept him from flailing around. He had just cast the spell of feather falling. It was a simple, but effective spell that slowed people''s descent in the air. A useful spell for anybody that was using a flying tool, or falling from a great height. Cris: Ha! Learned some new tricks, did you? But, that spell also makes you a sitting duck while you''re in the air. Cris raised his blade that was emanating fire and made a slashing motion. In doing so, streams of fire shot out of his blade towards Alan up in the air. Alan: Craap! he yelled out again. Before the fire could reach Alan, he stuck his hand to the side and created a gust of air, pushing his body in the opposite direction where he created the gust. By doing this, he managed to move his body mid-air enough this way to dodge Cris'' fire attack. Cris: Ha ha ha. Youre just full of surprises. I wonder how long you can do that. Cris then started to do a series of slashing motions, sending a barrage of fire attacks flying at Alan. Just like how he managed to dodge the first fire attack, he continued to produce wind to push him in different directions, all while slowly drifting back to the ground. Dodging was tiring for Alan. He had to exhaust his aether to constantly produce wind to avoid Criss attacks. A few slashes of fire managed to hit Alan with a loud boom, but a ward surrounding him managed to prevent any serious damage being done to him. He didnt lose his concentration and kept dodging to the best of his ability, until he managed to safely land on the ground. Now on the ground, Alan was exhausted from using all that aether to dodge those attacks, but it looked like Cris hadn''t even broken a sweat. Alan Knew that if this dragged on, he would definitely lose. So, he opted to put everything he had left into this one last attack. He grabbed his sword with both hands and firmly held it to his side. Alan then focused what aether he had left into his weapon. A violent miniature tornado started to form around the blade, it was similar to what Cris did with his blade with fire. Cris: Huh, so thats how you want to do it. Cris then took a similar stance to Alan and focused even more of his aether into his blade as well. The fire around his sword started to burn with even greater intensity than before, tuning it into a minute inferno around his blade. Both of them stared at each other, and both could tell that this would be the end. This time it was Alan''s turn to act first. With all his strength, he swung his blade downwards towards Cris. A tornado of wind was sent flying from his blade. Cris then responded by doing the same, and a ball of fire was sent flying from his weapon. Both the wind and fire blast collided with each other in a spectacular display. For a brief moment their attacks looked evenly matched, but then Criss fire attack started to overtake Alan''s attack. The fire consumed the twister of wind and continued forwards. Seeing that he wouldnt be able to dodge, Alan closed his eyes and took the attack. Boom!! There was a massive explosion and smoke and fire all around where Alan was standing. The sound of something that sounded like glass shattering could be heard the moment Criss attack impacted. Smoke completely obscured Alan. It took a few seconds, but the smoke eventually cleared to reveal Alan looking a bit ruffled up. Alan then threw his sword to the ground and raised both his hands into the air with palms open. Alan: Ok. I yield. You broke my ward. Youre the winner of the match, again, he said, disappointed in himself for losing to Cris once more. Cris: Dont sound so disappointed. You did much better this time. You lasted a lot longer. Isnt that right Jafar, he said, while also yelling out to Jafar. Hearing his name, Jafar''s attention shifted from his book to Cris. Jafar: Hmm. What are you talking about? Cris: I said Alans improved. Jafar: I guess? I mean, I don''t know. I wasn''t paying that much attention. Cris: Aw man. Thats harsh. Didnt even bother to pay attention and root for poor Alan here, he said as both Alan and Cris started to walk towards Jafar who was sitting outside the sparring ring. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Alan: Cris, if you''re trying to make me feel better, its not helping. Cris: Who said anything about making you feel better? I''m just being honest. You really have improved. Alan: Apparently not enough to beat you. Cris: Well, you''re gonna have to train a lot harder for that, he said while chuckling. Eventually all three of them had gathered around where Jafar was sitting. Jafar: I must say. I''ve seen it before, but I''m always amazed how monstrous you battle mages are, he said while looking at the damage done to the sparring arena from Cris and Alan''s fight. Cris: Wow. You''re being extra harsh today, calling us monsters. Jafar: Well, I don''t know how else to explain it. To move like that and to take one of your fireballs while remaining intact is something normal people cant do. Alan: Hey, if I took Cris'' fireball directly, I wouldn''t come out unscathed. Jafar: And yet you did. I saw you take one of his fireballs a little while ago. Cris: Well that wasn''t a direct hit. Jafar: It looked pretty direct to me. Cris: Oh, you dont know. We have combat wards on us when we fight. A ward is a type of protective magic that acts like a miniature barrier around something. Anything that would take damage with a ward on it, the ward will take the damage instead. Its one of the first and most essential types of magic that all combat mages learn to help in battle. Alan: Yeah, we also use enhancement magic to improve speed and strength. Did you actually think we could move and take hits like that naturally? Jafar: I dont know. I just thought that something about being a combat mage made you superhuman. Cris: Wow. Thats crazy. You always came across as a pretty smart guy to me. I didnt think you were so ignorant about this. Jafar: Give me a break. I dont know jack about combat magic. My focus is more technical stuff. Cris: Anyways, wanna go for another round in ten? he said, directing his question at Alan. Alan: Forget it. Sere is going to be here soon, and then we''re all going to all go study together, he said while shaking his head. Cris: Sigh. Fine. I guess I''ll go do some more training alone. Alan: Dude, are you a zombie? How can you not be tired from that fight and wanna train? Cris: Its that attitude that''s gonna limit you," he said while crossing his arms and smiling at Alan. Alan: No, I''m pretty sure my body is whats limiting me, not my attitude. Cris: Anyways, I''m gonna head out. Talk to ya later, he said as he began to walk away. Once Cris was out of sight, Alan took a seat beside Jafar and let out a tired sigh. Jafar: I guess Cris really is a prodigy. Alan: I dont know if it is that, or just a stupid amount of stamina. Jafar: "Meh, basically the same thing." Alan: I guess. But, man. I dont know what crazy training hes been going through. His endurance has always been impressive, but its been out of control lately for the last couple of months. Jafar: You should probably keep an eye on him. Alan: Huh? Why? Jafar: He might be pushing himself too hard. I remember hearing people comparing Cris to a bunch of famous war mages. Thats probably putting him under a lot of pressure. Alan: Hm. You might be right. Maybe we can hang together and do something fun and talk about it a little. Hey, wanna do a guys night together, he said, directing his question to Jafar. Jafar: Sure, but only after the exams though. Alan: Obviously. For another ten minutes, Jafar continued to read his book while Alan just relaxed. Eventually Sere showed up. She looked like her usual self with her blue Silverwing uniform, but was carrying a black garbage bag with something in it. Sere: Hey guys. Sorry I''m a little late. Alan: It''s all cool. Whats in the bag? Sere: Oh, just some clothing. By the way, Jafar. You have access to one of the labs, right? Jafar: Um, yeah. Why? Sere: That lab also has an incinerator in it? Jafar: Are you trying to burn the clothing in that bag? Sere: Yeah. Jafar: Well, there is an incinerator in the lab I have access to. But, you do know it would have been easier to just throw it in the garbage. Sere: Yeah, um, she said, followed by a long sigh. Im going to stop beating around the bush. This clothing belongs to my friend, and she asked me to burn them for her. And before you ask why, its because its covered in blood. Alan: Huh? What happened? Sere: I guess someone died in front of her and it got blood all over her when it happened. At least, thats what I was told. Alan: Was it another strange accident? Was there anyone strange looking around when it happened? Sere: Yeah, I thought about that too. I asked her if she saw anybody wearing a green shroom pact robe when it happened. She said she didnt know. Jafar: So, it was a strange accident? Sere: Yeah, someone was doing some flying training on a broom and fell. Landing right in front of my friend Triss. Alan: Wait, how do you fall to your death here? There is a bunch of protective magic in the training areas to prevent that kinda thing from happening. Sere: I guess the person lost control of the broom and ended up flying outside the training area, beyond where that kind of protective magic could activate. Alan: Who was it that died? Sere shook her head. Sere: I dont know. This all just happened today and my friend Triss was kinda of out of it when I talked to her. Understandably so. A person did just die right in front of her. So, I didn''t ask that many questions. Im sure more details will come in the papers tomorrow. Alan: So another strange death. Sere: Yeah. I Think Im coming around to your side, Alan. Something is going on. I''ve never heard of someone losing control of their broom and accidentally flying outside the training area. Like, how do you lose control of your broom that bad? Jafar: Ok, lets head to the lab, he said as he got up and proceeded to head towards the Ember Gear labs. Both Sere and Alan followed behind him. They tried talking to him, but Jafar ignored them and kept walking toward the lab. He had a serious, but focused look to his face. ?????????????????? After fifteen minutes of walking, they arrived at one of the labs for Ember Gear students. Inside it was illuminated by white lights with rows of tables and a bunch of complicated looking machinery on some of them. It was white and looked extremely sterile here. This would serve as a place for the young and upcoming to apply their scientific trade and prepare these students for the discoveries that they would one day make, but until then, the lab was vacant of any students or faculty. Jafar looked around briefly before heading towards one of the empty tables. He reached under a table and pulled out various beakers and chemicals and sat everything neatly in front of him. He then took two different bottles of clear liquid and mixed them together in a small vial. Sere: Jafar what are you doing? Jafar: Can you give me your friends'' clothing, he said, while ignoring Sere''s query. Sere: Oh, um OK? she said, as she handed him the bag with her friend''s bloody clothing. Sere expected that Jafar was going to throw the bag into the incinerator for her, but instead, he threw the bag onto the table and ripped it open. Sere: Hey! What are you doing!?! Jafar: Just trust me, I''ll explain in a little bit, he said, while focusing on the science experiment he was conducting in front of him. Jafar took the clothing out of the bag and laid it on the table. It was the blue and white uniform of the Silverwing College student, but much of the white parts of the clothing was now a dark red, saturated with blood. Jafar gave pause when he saw this. It was a lot of blood, and it was the blood of someone that just died today. Handling something like this gave him a weird feeling of guilt, like he was desecrating someone''s body. Sere: Holy LightThat''s a lot of blood, She said disconcertingly. Alan: How high did this person fall? he said in disbelief of the amount of blood on the clothing. Sere: II dont know. Alan: It must have been high. Whoever fell must''ve turned into a pancake when they hit the ground for there to be that much blood. Sere: Can we please not. I really dont need the mental image of what it looked like. With some trepidation, Jafar took a pair of scissors and cut a piece of the clothing that was still a little damp with blood. He then put the small piece of fabric into the vial with the chemicals before putting a stopper on it. Jafar shook the vial, mixing the contents well, before he walked over to a machine and placed the vial into it before turning on. The machine hummed and spun the vial around in a circle. Jafar: Ok, I should get a result in a few minutes, he said to himself. Alan: Jafar, do you want to tell us what is going on? Jafar gave out a long sigh, before he turned and faced his friends. Jafar: I didnt want to tell you this, but I overheard something related to Edwards'' death. Alan: Really? What did you hear? And what does this have to do with what you''re doing? Jafar: It was a conversation between professor Sorin Black and Pitter Patariki. It seemed that Patariki found a strange discrepancy about Edwards'' body. Alan: Before you say anymore, who is Sorin Black and Pitter Patariki? he said while raising his hand, indicating for Jafar to explain before he continued. Jafar: Oh right. You probably never took any of their classes since you''re in the Lionheart College. Well, Sorin Black is a senior Professor of the Gray Scale College. He teaches advanced arcane law and legal frameworks related to forbidden magic. Sere: Yeah, and Professor Patariki is another senior professor of the Silverwing College. I took his classes before. He specializes in human anatomy and I think he is the head director of the morgue here at the university. Alan: Wait, theres a morgue in the university? Sere: It is for research. People donate their bodies to the university for study. Jafar: And Edwards'' body was being stored there, but Patariki found something strange. He then tried talking to Sorin about it and I overheard their conversation. Alan: OKbut what does this have to do with what you''re doing? Jafar: The conversation I overheard got me thinking. Sorin downplayed the discrepancy as a mistake the people in the morgue made, but I wondered if it was. I thought that Jafar''s sentence was interrupted by a beeping from the machine he was just using. Jafar then went over to the machine and pulled the vial out of it. The contents of the vial was a clear liquid with a piece of bloody fabric when he first put it into the machine, now the liquid in the vial was an inky black color. He held it up to light and looked at it in confused awe. Jafar: By the light. Hows that possible? Alan: W-what? What is it? Jafar put the vial down and turned towards his friends. Jafar: The discrepancy that Patariki found was formaldehyde in Edward''s blood. Sorin thought that someone in the morgue had accidentally put it in Edward''s body while it was being stored. But, I just tested the blood off the clothing of Seres friend, and theres formaldehyde in it as well. The revelation shocked Sere, but Alan just stood there confused. Alan: Ok. I know I''ve been asking a lot of questions, but what exactly is formaldehyde? Sere: Its a type of chemical they use to preserve bodies. Its used all the time in the morgue. Alan: And it was in this person''s blood. How did it get there? Jafar: I dont know. The blood on Seres friends'' clothing was from someone that died recently. So, there wouldn''t be any time to take the body to the morgue and pump it full of formaldehyde. Alan: So, you''re saying this person and Edward were walking around with formaldehyde in their blood. Sere: Alan, thats not possible. Formaldehyde is incredibly poisonous. Even in small amounts it''s deadly. Jafar: At best they would be sick and bedridden if there was formaldehyde in them, but it would most likely just kill them. Alan: If thats true, then how? How is there formaldehyde in their blood and no one noticed? All three of them there stared at each other, unsure how to answer this new mystery they were facing. Chapter 25 - Preparation Before Engagement
Of the three most major cults, there are none more deranged than those of the Rattle Bone cult. Believed to be the most mentally unstable of all the cults, they are an organization made up of mad necromancers that delight in collecting the bones of people to use in their macabre idols. Of the many necrotic orders that have existed throughout recorded history, the Rattle Bone cult is believed to be the most powerful and knowledgeable in the black arts of necromancy. In the past, many saw necromancers as wizards who tried to understand the nature of death through cruel, and now illegal methods. All usually done in the pursuit of immortality. But, this is not a standard that can be applied to the Rattle Bone cult. Even so, people have commonly mistaken this cult as an organization that operates like the stereotypical necromancers from old stories. Its members have not shown any interest in studying necromancy for those conventional reasons. It seems that their obsession with necromancy is simply a tool for them to help collect bones. This cult mainly makes up its membership from aspiring, but failed artists. As such, It is sometimes also referred to as the Cult of the Mad Artist. It is not entirely understood how or why so many of its members are made up of current and former artists. Interrogations from members of this cult have revealed something they refer to simply as the Rattle. It has been described as: purpose, inspiration, a sound, and a feeling. The Rattle is often used as an unintelligible reasoning as to why they engage in such unbelievable acts of inhuman cruelty. This cult has been observed and written about for centuries, but the goals and actions of this cult remain unintelligible and relatively unknown even today. Writings of Light Scholar Lukka on The Machinations of the Nameless Cults On the west side of the Graheel, Joe was sitting in a small teahouse called Sunnys. He was sipping a really dark tea while snacking on a few baked goods the tea-house sold, all while reading a local newspaper. He was currently waiting for Mike and Dan. It had been a week since Dan joined and they talked with Jack. The plan of action today was to talk to this Wren Cummy person that Big Jack had told them about. This person''s store, The Mortar and Pestle, was only a few blocks away from this teahouse, so Joe and his team decided to meet up here before they went to Wren''s. Joe wasn''t confident that this Wren person would be helpful, but he already knew he was grasping at straws as it was. There wasn''t much info to go off to help find who could, or would murder Rob. So, he felt there was no harm to at least trying to see if this person has any info. He figured that it must have been a group that killed Rob, based on the way he was acting before he died. Also, Joe didnt think that a lone person could sneak into the police headquarters, murder someone, then sneak off without being detected or leaving any evidence of themselves. Therefore, he concluded that there must be more than one person that was working to go after Rob. Joe only had only two hypotheses on which groups it was that could have managed to kill Rob. The first group was one of the many professional assassination groups from one of the underworld Assassin Guilds. These Assassin Guilds were not well known to Joe, but he had heard rumors about them. And If the rumors he heard were real, then they would be the only group that might have enough technical skill to pull something like this off. If it was an assassin organization, it meant that Rob had managed to anger someone with deep pockets. Joe imagined that hiring one of these hidden underworld organizations was not cheap. He had an idea of who it could have been to hire these assassins, and he was hoping to be wrong. He didnt want to pursue that trail of investigation and get involved with the person he suspected. So, he was hoping for the other group. The other group he suspected was one of the nameless cults. Joe was not sure which cult it would be, but he knew that it would be a cult that was crazy enough to kill Rob from inside the police headquarters, and somehow get away with it. There are a lot of things thats still not well known about those cults. So, it might be they had some sort of magic or method to sneak in and kill rob that wasn''t yet known. There was also the strange wooden object on Rob''s body that was identified as being related to the cults. Creating a clear connection between him and the cults of the nameless gods. I wonder. If it was the cults, what did he do to piss them off. Did Rob murder one of their members? That sounds like something he would do. If it was a member from one of the big three cults, then it would have to be the Blood Callers. They are only one of the big three that might engage in retribution for killing one of its members, but it could very well be one of the many lesser cults as well. He pondered to himself. There were thousands of smaller cults out there, each with their own creed and twisted philosophy. Even if Joe could determine that it was a cult, figuring out which cult would be extremely difficult. With such a small amount of information he had, Joe was hoping that this Wren person could help him in these cult matters. He didnt think that Wren himself knew anything about cults, Joe was actually hoping that this herbalist had some connection to the druids. Druids had been fighting the cults for longer than even the church of light. They might be the only other people that might have the info that Joe was looking for on cults. But, he had to find them first and he didnt know anybody that would know where to find them. Joe was hoping that the herbalist would have interacted with a druid before. Druids are said to be nature freaks and plants lovers so maybe a herbalist, someone who handles plants, might know where to find them. Joe brought himself back from his pondering and focused on reading the newspaper. He turned the page of the paper and read the headline: Another Accident Resulting In Student Death At Graheel University. Joe: Hmm. Whats going on at that university? Thats like the third student that died this month, he mumbled to himself. Before Joe could get into the article, he heard the sound of the bell on the store''s front door ringing. Looking up from his paper, he saw Dan entering the Teahouse and looking around. Joe waved, drawing Dan''s attention to him before he walked over to where he was sitting. As he approached, Joe noted Dan''s clothing. He was no longer wearing his black and blue police uniform when they first met. Instead, he wore a gray trench coat with a matching fedora just like how Joe and Mike dressed. Dan: Sorry I''m late, he said as he took a seat in front of Joe. Joe: I see you got the clothing I told ya to get. Dan: Oh, yeah. I got the same clothing as you, like said to. But, I''m not sure what''s the point. My regular uniform would be just as good. Joe: Were an investigation unit. Part of investigating is talking to people, and a lot of people dont like talking to cops. So, we dont wear our uniforms when we work. Dan: Really? But I would think people would be more receptive to talking if I was in uniform, and they knew I was a cop. Joe: Ha ha ha, you''re funny. Sorry, I forget youre from the boonies. Dan: Are people''s opinions of us really so bad? Joe: Kid, public opinion of us has been on the decline for years. Combine that with this city''s complicated history, and I''d say its fifty fifty whether or not you''re going to run into someone that will hate you for being a cop. Dan: That sounds insane. Joe: Tell me about it, but it''s not our job to worry about what people think of us. We still got a job to do. So wheres Mike? I thought he was with you? You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Dan: He told me to go ahead. Said that he would catch up after he finished some of the paperwork. Joe: I guess in that case, you can pull a chair and grab something to eat while we wait, he said as he started to read his newspaper again. Dan: Um he said, struggling to try to say what he wanted. Joe: Cats got your tongue. Speak up. Just say what you want, he said as he turned the page of the newspaper he was reading. Dan: Um, I was told they wanted us to investigate the strange deaths at the university. Just to ensure that they really are accidents and no foul play is going on. Joe: Tell them no. Dan: Should we really be doing that? Joe: Did this come from Chief Murdock? Dan: Um, no, he said while shaking his head. Joe: Then we were not doing it. I assumed that this request came from Lewiss investigation unit. Dan: Y-yeah, howd you know? They said they had a lot of work on their hands and asked if we could help out and take this case for them. Joe: Its not a case Dan. It''s a headache theyre trying to pass onto us. Dan: Oh, really? Joe: You''ve never dealt with that university before. Anything involving that institution is just a mountain of paperwork for nothing. The university doesn''t let the police on their grounds without filling out the proper papers, which then takes months to do. And by then, any clues we could pick up would be gone. Its a waste of time to investigate anything thats going on at the university. Dan: So, it is like the eastside situation, but with the university. Joe: Kinda. They''re not hostile like they are in the east. Just stubborn. And they do help us out from time to time. So, while I wouldn''t say the relationship between us and the university is amazing, it''s not bad. At least, its not bad as long as you are not part of the investigation units like us. Making our job as investigators a lot harder than it needs to be. Dan: This city is so weird. We''re not allowed in the east end or on the university grounds. Thats like almost half the city. How much crime must be going on all the time. Joe: Youd be surprised. Not a lot of violent crime goes on in the east end, and almost never on the university grounds. The Nighthounds do a pretty good job of keeping the peace in their territory, and the university has their own little private police force that works on the grounds, he said while turning another page in his newspaper. Dan: My first point still stands. This city is still so fucking weird, he said while sighing, Is there anything i need to know about this university private police force. Its the first time I''m hearing about them. Joe: Hmm, they call themselves the enforcers and they are made up of a combination of faculty and students. Once in a while, they catch someone committing a crime and pass them off to us. Beyond that, theres nothing else to say about them. Not much interaction between us and them. So, not something youll need to worry about. Dan was about to say something else, but stopped once he heard the sound of someone else entering the teahouse. It was Mike that just showed up. He scanned the room for a few seconds before he saw Dan and Joe and made his way to their table. Joe: You''re late. he said as he put the newspaper he was holding down Mike: Well, soooorry. At least one of us actually has to do the paperwork. Joe: I thought thats what Dan was for. Mike: Im not going to dump all my work onto Dan. Also, Dan, you''re doing a great job. Youve helped me cut the paperwork in half and I really appreciate it, he said while nodding to Dan. Dan: No problem Mike. Just glad I could help out. Mike: Well now that I''m here, lets get going. Joe: Sure you dont want to grab a bite to eat first, since were here. Mike: No, he said, completely deadpan. I want to get this done and go home. Joe: Sounds like youve given up before it even started. Mike and Joe knew each other well. They could instantly tell what was going on in each other''s mind just from a quick look. Joe sensed that Mike was being very dismissive and showing little to no interest in talking to this Wren Cummy. He somewhat understood why, but he needed him to be focused for the task ahead. Mike: Im not hopeful this Wren-guy knows anything, but let''s get it over with. Joe: Wait, I wanna go over something quickly with Dan before we head out. So, sit with us for a bit. With a sigh, Mike took a seat at the table with everyone else. Joe then put his newspaper down and turned towards Dan. Joe: Ive realized that weve never gone over each other''s combat abilities since you joined. The newly joined young officer''s eyes widened in surprise and a bit of worry. Dan: Wha? Are we going into something dangerous? Joe: No, but we should learn about each other''s capabilities anyways. Better to learn now than in the middle of a scuffle. Most police officers were mages, and understanding each other''s arcane abilities was essential for the job. It allowed better coordination in the event a fight broke out. Learning about each other''s police officers ability was part of basic training for all new officers. Dan: Oh, OK. Joe: Youve already seen it before, but Mikey here is attuned to the earth element. He has incredibly fine control and can create bindings out of sand. Mike: Im also proficient in a bunch of other binding spells. Also, I have some more minor attunement to water and necros elemental forces. So, I can utilize those elements if need be. Joe: So whats your elemental attunement, he said directed toward Dan. Dan: I''m attuned to water and earth in both equal amounts, and cant really use much else. Joe: Ok, so you''re a Di-mage. That could be pretty useful. Most mages were attune to at least three or more elements, which most chose a single one to specialize into. But, Di-mages were mages with a unique attunement that were attuned exclusively to two elements. They couldn''t really use any other element beyond what they were attuned with, but the power they could draw out of the element they could use was much greater than an average mage. Mike: Any particular combat specialties? Dan: Um, no sorry. Joe: You can at least put a ward around yourself and use basic attack spells, preferably non lethal, right? Dan: Yes. I did basic combat training, but I''m not a combat specialist. It''s why I joined the investigation unit. Im much more proficient in illusion magic than anything related to combat. Mike: Well, illusion magic is not completely useless in combat. But, whats this about illusion magic? Can you be more specific in what you can do? Dan: Im very good at changing myself, or others appearance. I can make you look like anybody else. Mike: Thatcould be quite useful, he said as started to think of the use case of such an arcane specialty. Joe: How well can you deceive other mages with your illusions? Dan: Other mages? Well, when it comes to other mages, I''m not sure. I think I might be able to get away with a single illusion on my face that I''m actively focusing on. Being able to feel aether makes it hard to fool other mages. Also, even if I can fool someone else, if they touch the area where I put the illusion on, they would immediately discover something was off. Joe: So what I''m hearing is that maybe you might be able to fool other mages. Mike: Joe, needing to use an illusion to fool other mages probably wont come up too often. We mostly deal with non-mages, and the mages we do deal with are not that well trained and could easily be fooled by illusions, he said, trying to defend Dan. Joe: Mike, this isn''t an attack against Dan. I already made a promise to you about that. Im just trying to get a sense of Dans limitations. And from the sense I''m getting, his illusions are not gonna fool an archmage. Dan started to look a little more visibly depressed by Joe''s comment. Mike: Fuck you Joe. Thats an absurd standard to put Dan up to and you know it. Thinking any normal mage could fool an archmage. Joe: I have high standards and I''m just being honest. Anyways, want to give us a quick demonstration of your illusions, Dan. Dan: What, here? Joe: Yeah, it''s just an illusion to change your appearance. Just do your face, you dont have to do full body illusions. Dan: Um, I would. But, the thing is once I undo the illusion it leaves me soaked. Joe: That sounds a little odd. Dan: Well, I use the water element to reinforce my illusions. It''s ok while the illusion is active, but once I end it, it leaves a whole bunch of water behind. Its also why you can detect it when someone touches my illusions. It makes the area where I apply my magic feel wet to the touch. Joe: So an obvious weakness, which is good to know ahead of time. Im not sure we''re going to need your illusion magic for today, but its good that you know how to use some combat magic and can defend yourself. Anyways, I think we can head out now. Dan: Wait, you never said what your element or abilities were, he said, directed at Joe. Joe: Oh, right. Sorry about that. Well, I''m a Null Mage. Dans eyes widened in surprise at the information Joe revealed about himself. Mike: Yup, that''s right. Our dear leader here has no elemental affinity, he said in response to Dan''s shock expression. But, dont mistake Joe as one of those Null mages that have no ability. He is one of the rare Null mages that can use unique magics. Dan turned his head back to Joe for an explanation about what Mike was talking about. Joe: Ah, Im a Vectromancer. Dan: Um, what is that exactly? Joe made a quick gesture with his hand and the metal spoon he used to stir his tea floated a foot off of the table. He then made another gesture and the spoon twisted and bent before returning to its original shape and gently floated back onto the table. Joe: I can manipulate metal. Specifically ferrous metals, as the magic I can use is magnetic based. Ill show you how it works some other time. Now thats out of the way, are we all ready? Mike: Yeah, let''s get this over with. Joe: While were walking there, let me explain how good cop bad cop works, he directed at Dan. Chapter 26 - Finding the Unexpected Just as there are countless strange entities from outside our world, there are also countless cults that exist inside our world. The majority of them are small with very little membership. They are often referred to as the lesser cults, to distinguish these groups from the more infamous cults. But, be warned. Even though they are not as prolific in their atrocity as the big three cults, they are nonetheless extremely dangerous. They engage in all manner of strange and unholy acts. An example of these lesser cults actions was reported by witch hunters about a group of cultists that belong to the Consuming Ooze cult, and the Festering Venom cult, who were capturing people for the twisted rituals. The Festering Venom cult was injecting innocent people with a painful poison and watching their victims slowly die in their cruel rituals, while the Consuming Ooze cult was melting people down into sludge while alive with chemicals for their own sick rituals. Because of how small these lesser cults are, they often hide in isolated communities out in the wilderness. From these isolated communities, they try to spread their twisted ideas into the more populous areas and recruit new members. But, thanks to the efforts of the church of light and government officials, they have found little success in recruitment over the years. The church of light and government organizations have launched campaigns to eradicate these dangerous groups in the wilderness, but due to their hiding and the existence of numerous cults, they have eluded complete eradication. However, these campaigns still had some success in limiting the reach of these cults. It should be mentioned that by the year 2889, the members of the Consuming Ooze cult and the Festering Venom cult have been successfully eradicated in the western continent. Thanks to the valiant efforts of the witch hunters. Writings of Light Scholar Lukka on The Machinations of the Nameless Cults Joe and his crew were standing in a nearby alley from the place where they were preparing to enter, The Mortar And Pestle. The alley they stood in was absent of other people and hid the police officer presence. It was relatively clean for an alleyway, but Joe could still catch a whiff of something most foul every once in a while. Something that smelled rotten and putrid, from an unknown source that Joe couldn''t see in the alleyway. He could only assume that it was something rotting in one of the nearby garbage bins. Joe: Ok, are we ready? he said, wanting to get out of this alley and away from that foul smell. Mike: Wait, lets go over what were going to do again. This is Dans first time. Joe: Fine. The plan is that once we get Wren alone, we put on the good cop bad cop act. Where I play the bad cop and threaten him, while Mike plays the good cop and tries to calm me down, while trying to strike a deal with him for info. Dan: Is that really necessary? Mike: Actually, I''m kinda with Dan on this one. Why bother with the whole good cop bad cop act. We''re just going to ask him where you might be able to find some druids. Joe: Hes Jack''s friend. Meaning he probably wont be cooperative with us, but if i threaten him a little he might. We already know he deals in shrooms, so I''ll play that up a little. Ill accuse him of selling shrooms to help fund a cult or something. Dan: You really think hes working for a cult? Joe: Dan, are you listening? I said I''m going to play it up a little. I dont actually think this guy is working for a cult, but if this Wren guy thinks I''m accusing him of it, hell become talkative. More likely to tell us stuff about druids to try and clear his name. Him trying to prove his association with druids is a good way for him to distance himself from those cult, and for us to get the info we need. Mike: He could also just lie and say whatever if you scare him too much with those accusations. Joe: Thats where you, the good cop, come in, he said while pointing at Mike. I agitate and you placate. Hell be more honest toward you if he thinks you''re the more reasonable cop. Cmon Mikey, weve done this thousand times together now. We did it to get info out of Jack the other day. Mike: That wasn''t me doing the good cop act with Jack. That wasoh by the light, he said while palming his forehead. I just realized that the good cop bad cop thing isn''t an act. You really are a bad cop, and by extension making me a good cop when I try to stop you. Joe: Whoa, what are you saying. Thats a bit much. Mike: How have I not noticed this? Weve been working with each other for years, he mumbled out while ignoring Joe. Joe: Mikey, focus, he said, bringing Mike back to attention. Lets just do the thing and get our info and leave, OK? Joe then turned his head towards Dan. While we do the interrogation, you stand by the door and make sure no one comes in or leaves, got it? Dan nodded his head at Joe. Joe: Good. So Mikey, let''s show Dan how it''s done, he said as he walked out of the alleyway. The other two officers followed behind Joe. The group of men poured out into the street and slowly walked down the gray cobblestone street towards the Mortar And Pestle. The design of the herbalist store was simple and modern that had some elements that invoke eastern continent aesthetics. The front windows of the store had shelves of different kinds of jars and packages of dried herbs and tinctures. The front door of the store sported an abstract design of plants that none of the officers were familiar with. Despite the many unique elements of this store, it didnt stand out much compared to any of the other stores on this street. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Joe looked at the front of the store for a minute, before confirming that this was the place they were looking for. He then pushed on the front door and entered into the Mortar And Pestle ''''. Inside there were even more shelves packed with dry herbs. The shelves formed very narrow aisle that were only wide enough to let one person walk through comfortably. The distinct smell of dried herbal concoction was pungent and ever present in the space. Looking down one of the aisle to the back of the store, he saw a woman talking to a man behind a counter top. ???: Ill be with you in a minute after Im done helping this customer, a male sounding voice called out from the back. Joe turned to Mike and they both nodded to each other. He then gestured towards Dan to stay near the door. Dan nodded and stood near a shelf close to the door, pretending to look at the merchandise. Both Mike and Joe split up and walked down different aisles, out of sight from the people conversing at the back. Joe quietly tried to get as close as he could, so he could eavesdrop on the conversation. Once he was close enough to hear, he turned to one of the shelves and pretended to look at merchandise while he listened in. Female customer: I dont know, Wren. Are you sure this will help? Wren: Trust me. That stuff is amazing. It will definitely help with that problem of yours. Just like that cream I gave to your husband last week. Female customer: Oh, speaking of my husband''s cream. He asked me to pick up some more of that cream you gave him while I was here, she said while chuckling a little. Wren: Already? I thought I gave him enough to last a month. Female customer: Hes going out of town for a while, so he wanted to take a little extra cream while he was away. Just in case he runs out. Wren: Oh, OK. No problem. Let me just grab that for you. Where Joe was standing, he couldn''t see what was happening. But, he could hear what sounded like rummaging through a shelf and then something being placed on a countertop. Wren: There you go. That all together comes to ten thousand Glint. Joe gasps in surprise at the amount of money being spent. He thought that this was a simple herbal store, Joe didnt think people were spending that much on the stuff here. He started to become a little nervous at the packages of dried herbs in front of him. Wondering if this stuff was also extremely expensive. Female customer: OK. Here you go. Wren: Thank you. Please come again, he said cheerfully. Joe could hear the rustling sound of a paper bag and footsteps heading toward the entrance of the store. Joe took this as his chance to talk to this Wren person. He then stepped out of the aisle and approached the man behind the counter. The man standing behind the counter, who Joe assumed was Wren, was tall and skinny sporting a thick brown beard. He wore glasses and his hair was braided on one side with weird looking ornaments hanging from it. The rest of his long hair was tied up in a tight bun. The man was wearing a collection of tribal looking necklaces around his neck and a cream color hemp t-shirt with baggy gray shorts. Joe could see people mistaking this guy as a druid. A few more weird ornaments and some dirt on his face, and he could easily pass off as a druid to the people living in the city. Wren was looking down while writing in a book before he looked back up to see Mike and Joe approached. Wren: Oh, hello. Is there anything I can help you with? he said with a smile. Mike: I''m officer Mike and this here is officer Joe, he said while pointing to Joe and showing Wren his police badge. We wanted to ask you a few questions. The happy demeanor of Wren was presenting, shifted and became more serious and concerned. Wren: Um, whats this about? Mike: We just want to ask you about some people you might know. Wren: I-Im afraid I won''t be able to help you today. Im about to close down and he said, before being cut off by Joe. Joe: Cut the crap. We know you''re dealing drugs. Wren: W-what!?! he said, starting to show signs of panic. Joe: You heard me. I know you''re a drug dealer. So you better tell us what we wanna know. Mike: What my friend is trying to say is, if you help us with our investigation, well go easy on ya. Maybe even look the other way. Wren: Y-you have n-no proof! Joe: We have enough proof, or we wouldnt have bothered talking to you like this. They didnt really have any proof. They only had the info given to them from Jack about Wren. But the goal wasn''t to arrest Wren. Joe just wanted to scare him a bit, to get him to be a little more cooperative. Wren: I-I know my rights! Joe: A lot of good those rights are gonna do once they find out you''re dealing drugs for the nameless cults. Wren: H-how Mike: Just help us out man. Dont make it any worse yourself. We can be reasonable, but only if you help us find what we''re looking for. he cut in, before Wren could say anymore. Wren: P-please. We havent committed any egregious crime. W-we just sell a little on the side to make some cash. I d-dont sell to kids. Cmon, those drug laws are stupid anyways. Mike: Like I said, we might look the other way if you help us out. I really do wanna help you out here, brother. Wren: F-fine. What do you want to know, he said, sounding defeated while looking down. Joe raised an eyebrow. It was extremely suspicious to Joe at how fast the person caved and didnt try that hard to defend himself from the accusations. He was Jack''s friend, so he thought that he might try to act a little more tough. Joe: By the way. You said we. Who is this we? Wren: Um, the group I belong to, he said confusedly. Joe: Is this group a cult? Wren: I mean, people call us a cult. But, I think of ourselves as more of a religious group. Mike: Wait wait wait wait! Are you saying you''re actually a cultist? he said, surprised. Wren: Isn''t that what youve been accusing me of the whole time? he said, also starting to look even more confused. Both Joe and Mike looked at each other in surprise. They then both upholstered their guns and pointed them at Wren in perfect unison. Preparing to shoot if Wren did anything hostile against them. Wren: Gaah! P-please d-dont s-shoot! he said while quickly raising his hands up in the air. Wren was now sweating profusely and his hands were visibly shaking. Clearly scared that he was about to potentially get shot. Mike: Dan! Lock that front door and get over here! he yelled out. A few seconds later, Dan came running to the back. Dan: Whats going on? Why are your guns out? Joe: It turns out, Wren here is a member of the nameless cult. Chapter 27 - Talks With A Cultist Inside the Mortar and Pestle was a standoff. On one side was Joe and Mike pointing their guns at Wren, who was holding his hands up shaking in fear. Mike: Dan. Whatever you do, dont take your eyes off him. Wren: P-please i-im not going to do anything, he said while shaking with fear. Joe: Did you lock the front door? he said to Dan, without taking his eyes off the man in front of him. Dan: U-um, yeah. Joe: Good. take these and cuff him for me, he said, as he passed Dan a pair of Jinsil steel handcuffs he had in his jacket while continuing to point his gun at Wren. Dan took the cuffs. With some trepidation, he started to walk around to Wren and prepared to put the cuffs on him. Wren: T-thats really not necessary. I-im not a mage. Joe: And yet, you can recognize these as cuffs specifically for mages. Jinsil cuffs were a unique tool that law enforcement, like Joe, carried around on their persons. They were specifically designed to restrain mages, as the jinsil in the cuffs would disrupt any aether in people''s body, making it impossible to cast spells. It is not a tool that many non-mages would immediately recognize. Wren: I-i-im, gah! he yelled out as his arms were forced behind his back by Dan. Dan forced Wren''s hands together behind his back and with a quick metallic click, he locked the cuffs onto his wrist. Dan: All secured Joe. Joe: Good, now let''s have a little talk. Mike: Wait. Let''s move this out of the store floor, he said, while pointing to the door behind Wren at the very back of the store. Joe: Good idea Mikey. They then relocated to the back room of the store. Out of sight from anyone that might see what was going on from the display windows in the front of the store. Wren led the group into the back with Mike pushing him forward from behind with the muzzle of his gun. Once inside, the three officers looked around. It was dimmer in this room and the shelves here were packed full of more dried herbs and curious tinctures. It was filthy and a mess in this room. There was also all kinds of alchemical equipment in an area of the room from beakers to test vials. That one corner of the room looked more like a laboratory than it did a storage room. Joe: Huh, so you''re conducting your own twisted personal experimentation. Wren: I-i make my own herbal remedies. Thats what this is all for. Joe: Likely story, Im sure you were brewing poisons to torture people. Joe looked around and found a chair. He grabbed Wren by the shoulder and guided towards the chair before forcing him to sit. Once he was seated, Joe and Mike put their guns back in their holsters. Wren: Ugh. We dont torture or hurt people, he said, trying to defend himself and his cult. Joe: Yeah, and how many cultists have said that before jamming a dagger into someone''s eye socket. You freaks lie all the time, he then turned toward Dan and Mike. You guys search the area and see if you find anything strange. If you guys find a book with a red cover or a black book with weird writing in it, let me know. Ill stay here and keep our cultist friend company. Both Mike and Dan nodded before walking off in opposite directions to examine anything of interest. Wren: If you''re looking for the Blood Rite or the Rattle Scratching, you wont find them here. Joe then turned back to Wren with a curious look in his eye. The Blood Rite and the Rattle Scratching were the two books he was asking his team to look out for. They were text that members of the Blood Callers or the Rattle Bone cult would often possess. If they were able to find one of those books, it would be very easy to identify what cult he belonged to. Joe: So, you know about those books. And, you''re insisting that you dont have them. Does that mean you''re part of the Endless War Cult? Wren: No! Im not associated with any of those psychos from the big three. Joe: Mhm hm. So what cult do you belong to then? he said in a dismissive manner. Showing that he clearly didnt entirely believe anything that Wren was saying. Wren: Ugh. Its the he then mumbled something inaudible, Joe: Huh, what are you saying? There was a painful silence between the two of them before Wren forced himself to speak. Wren: P-putrid Rot. I belong to the Putrid Rot clan. Joe reeled back from Wren slightly with a visible face of disgust at what he just heard. The names of these cult gave to themselves indicated some sense of what a cult''s beliefs and practices are. Joe could only imagine how disgusting this cult and its members were, if they were calling themselves worshipers of something called Putrid Rot. Dan: Hey Joe. I think I found something you might wanna look at, he called out. Joe looked off to the side to see Dan near a door with stairs leading down. Dan was standing there with his lower face covered in a cloth. Joe: Hey Mike! Can you keep an eye on this guy for me, he said while pointing his thumb to Wren. Mike was looking through a nearby shelf before he turned his attention over where Joe and Wren were. Mike: Ok. I got it, he said as he started to walk over to Wren. Once he saw Mike walking over to Wren, he then turned his back and started to approach Dan. Joe: So what did you ulgh! he visibly gagged as he got closer to Dan. There was an intense horrendous smell that stung Joe''s nose. It was the worst thing he had ever smelled in his life. It smelled even worse than any fetid substance he had gotten the misfortune of being exposed to before. But, it was still familiar. Joe realized that it was the same scent from the alleyway where they had gathered before entering Wren''s store. It was just way more intense here than it was then in the alley. Joe had to actively pinch his nostrils shut, or he would continue to gag. Dan: Yeah, I opened the door and the smell just hit me. It smells kinda like rotten meat, so I''m thinking a rotting corpse maybe somewhere down there. But, I didn''t want to go down there alone to confirm, he said, with his voice slightly muffled by the cloth he was holding to his face. Joe: Thats fine. Well go down together. And like you said, there might be a body down there. Turns out Wren is part of the Putrid Rot cult. So a rotting body down there seems likely, he said while pinching his nose. Dan: Why in the Light would anyone willingly join such a group? Joe: There is nothing normal when it comes to these cultists. So If I learn nothing else from this experience, know that cultists are all crazy like this, He said as started to descend the stairs. As he moved down the stairs with Dan at his back, he felt the air change around him. It was becoming more humid. He was sure that the smell from before was becoming more intense as he traveled down into the depths. He reached the bottom of the steps that open into a large pitch black room. He couldn''t make much out in the darkness. Looking around he saw a light switch nearby and quickly flipped it. The lights above activated and illuminated the space. Joe could now clearly see the rows of wooden crates with tops open, sitting in the room. He gingerly approached one of them and peered in, which he quickly regretted. The crate he was looking at was full of thousands of slimy yellow wiggling worms. They constantly climbed and squirmed on top of each other aimlessly in a massive pile inside the crate. Joe: What the fuck, he said as he moved away from the crate. Joe then went on to examine the other open crates. He expected to find more of those disgusting wriggling creatures, but he found something else instead. Inside the other crate was a thick layer of white fuzzy mycelium cover dirt. It almost resembled snow. Countless colorful green mushrooms sprouted from it. The other crate Joe examined all seemed to contain different types of mold and fungi within them. While not pleasant, he found the fungus was less repulsive than the crate of worms. I guess this is where he was growing his shrooms, but what in the world is causing that foul smell? I dont think those worms or shrooms are the source. So, whats causing it? Joe pondered to himself until Dan called out to him. Dan: Hey Joe. I think I found the source of the smell. Looking over where Dan was, Joe saw the new recruit holding a metal bucket. He went over to Dan and took a look inside the container he was holding. Inside was a mix of animal carcass of fish and some sort of bird. There was an unsettling bright lime green slime on the remains. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Dan: I found a ton of other buckets with this green slime in it. They all had some sort of organic material rotting in them. I even found a whole bucket with just the slime in it. The smell from it almost made me vomit. Joe: Was there anything that seemed dubious in one of those buckets? Like human body parts? Dan: No. Just plant material and animal carcass. Nothing that looked like it belonged to a human. Joe: Hmm. Doesn''t mean there couldnt have been a human part in one of those buckets. Might be just too decomposed for us to recognize. Dan: What do you think the deal with the buckets full of slime and biomass is about? Is it material for potion making? Joe: More likely that slime is something that accelerates rotting. He did say he was part of a cult called the Putrid Rot. So something that can make things rot faster might be something his cult is into. Dan: But why? Joe: Maybe he worships the rot and uses it in some disgusting ritual. Who knows. Like i said before, nothing those cults do ever make any sense. Did you find anything else? Dan: I did. I found this on one of the shelves down here, he said as he pulled out a book with a drawn mushroom on the cover. Joe: Hmm. This might be his cult book. Did you read anything out of it? Dan: I just skimmed it, but the term Putrid Rot did come up. Seems like pretty good confirmation that Wren really does belong to that cult. Joe: That makes him a tiny bit easier to deal with, I guess. He doesn''t have the backing of any of the big three cult, which are a lot more dangerous than a lesser cult. I assume you didnt notice anything else? Dan shook his head, confirming Joe''s assumption. Joe: In that case, lets get out of this cesspit, he said, eager to get out of this place and away from the horrendous smell. Both officers rapidly ascended the stairs, closing the doors behind them, hoping that doing so would keep the smell from following them up the stairs. Once they were back in the storage room, they briefly let out a sigh. Glad to be away from that smell, but as soon as Joe un-pinched his nose, he gagged again. Some of the smell from the basement had rubbed off on their clothing. It wasn''t as bad as downstairs, but the smell that clung to their clothing was still foul. Joe: Ugh, fuck me, he said while still gagging. Dan: Fucking Light. I just bought these clothes. Mike, who was still standing near where Wren was forced to sit, turned his body and greeted them. Mike: Ugh, you guys stink. Find anything interesting down there? he said, while covering his nose. Joe: Found out where this guy was growing his shrooms, he said while pointing at Wren. Also found a bunch of rotting animal carcass and the remains of a human body, he said while lying about the part with the human body. Joe wanted to see how Wren would react by the mention of a human body. He wanted to try and gauge him and get a sense of what he was like, as he tried to defend himself from the false accusation from Joe. Wren: Theres no humans remains down there! I dont kill people or desecrate graves! Joe calmly approached Wren. Mike started to move away from Joe, trying to put a little distance between them so he didnt have to smell Joe. Wren seemed unfazed by the smell clinging to Joes clothing. Joe: So, youre telling me the finger I found in those buckets of green slime wasn''t human, he said, while continuing his lie about the human corpse. Wren: I don''t know what you think you saw, but there are no human remains in that Rot slime. It should only be leftover food and herbs that went bad, he said, adamant that there were no human remains in his basement. Dan: U-um, Joe. I didnt see any human remains in those buckets. Joe: Fuck me, he said while rubbing his temples. Take a hint Dan. I was lying to see how he would act, and you just ruined it. Dan: OH! Im sorry Joe, he said apologetically. Joe ignored Dan and put his focus back onto Wren. Joe: That green slime. I assume its used to accelerate decomposition, right? Wren: Yeah, its rot slime. It does exactly as you say. It makes things rot quicker. A lot quicker. Joe: I know I''m going to regret asking this, but why? Why are you decomposing stuff in those buckets down there? Wren: Its fertilizer. Joe: For what? Wren: You did see my shrooms down there? Joe: So you''re using it to fertilize your little mushroom farm you got going on down there. Wren: Yeah, what did you think I was using it for? Joe: Im asking the questions here, he said, glad that Wren wasn''t using those buckets of slime for something disgusting like he was thinking. So, what are those green mushrooms growing down there? Wren: Those are dream shrooms. There what i sell on the side for people that want to get high. Joe: And the other stuff you were growing. Wren: All various types of fungi to make medicine and herbal remedies. Joe: Anything particularly poisonous you''re growing. Wren: I mean only in the sense if you take too much. But, thats like any medicine. Joe: And whats with the crate full of worms? At the mention of a crate full of worms, Mike''s face had changed to a visible look of disgust. Wren: Theyre carrion worms. I collect their mucus secretions to make the rot slime. Joe stared down Wren. He was looking for any signs of a lie. But, during the entire time he was questioning him, Wren had answered him confidently with no hesitation. If he was a liar, then he was a really good one. Good enough that Joe couldnt tell. But, Joe also knew that nameless cultists werent right in the head, somewhat evident by what Wren was doing in his basement. It wouldn''t be easy to tell if they were lying. They might very well believe what they''re saying in the moment from their zealotry, only to change them a few minutes later. Trying to normally psychoanalyze a cultist is often pointless. Joe turned and walked away from Wren, far enough that Joe believed he couldnt hear him. He then made a gesture for Dan and Mike to come over where he was. Dan gathered around Joe, but Mike hesitated. He didnt want to get close to them. Joe made another forceful gesture for Mike to come over to where he was. Mike groaned then pinched his nose and walked over to where Dan and Joe were. Joe: So what are you guys thinking so far. Dan: Im wondering if this guy really is a cultist. He doesn''t behave like any cultist they taught at the academy. Hes acted very rational and been cooperative with questioning. Not mumbling nonsensical things, like they say cultists do. Joe: The nonsensical kind of cultists are mostly from the Rattle Bone cult, but dont let that fool you. The other cults like Blood caller, Endless war, and some lesser cults can act rational in the moment, even if their end goals are anything but that. Mike: He also hasn''t done anything particularly illegal if we are to believe what he says. Well, the exception being the shrooms. Joe: Being a cultist is illegal. Mike: Actually, being a cultist of the big three is whats illegal. If his lesser cult is not on the list of prohibited cults, then we got nothing on him other than the shrooms. Joe & Dan: What!? They both said. Mike: Yeah I looked into it a while back. Just cause you''re part of a cult doesn''t automatically make it a crime. I know almost everyone on the force just assumes being part of a cult is illegal, but the laws are clear. The cult has to be on the prohibited list to make membership of that cult illegal. It just so happens that in the past, all the cultists the force has dealt with were on that list. Joe: Shit. I dont make it a habit of having our unit deal with cults, so I had no idea it was like that. Do you know if this Putrid Rot cult is on the list? Mike: No idea. Didnt memorize it. The list was really long. Well have to go back to headquarters and check to see if Wrens cult is on it. Dan: Then we cant arrest him, and we are also now the ones breaking the law by restraining him like this. Mike: Well be OK. Restraining someone with reasonable suspicion of cult activities means they wont throw the book at us too hard. And remember, the shrooms. That shit is still illegal. We can arrest him for drug trafficking if need be. Dan: You wanna bring him in on drug charges. Joe: Not really. Its not my prerogative to bring in small-time drug dealers. Dan: But, arent we supposed to? Joe: No. Im not going to waste our time with that shit if hes not selling to kids. Mike: We are supposed to bring him in, but Joe doesn''t believe in arresting people for petty crimes. And, I''m kinda with him on that. Dan: Selling drugs is a petty crime to you guys? Joe: In this case, yes. Now the question is what to do with him, he said while briefly looking over at Wren sitting in the chair he forced him in. Dan: I dont know. Cultists are supposed to be super dangerous. So, we cant just leave him alone. Joe: True, and just cause he says hes not murdering anyone, doesn''t mean hes telling the truth. That rot slime in his basement would make it real easy to dispose of a body if he wanted to. Mike: When I was talking to him while you guys were in the basement, he was pretty insistent that hes a pacifist. Never hurt another soul in his life, he said. Actually that reminds me, did you guys see a book down there with a picture of a mushroom on it. Joe: You mean this, he said as he pulled out the book they found. Mike: That looks like what he was talking about, " he said, as took the book from Joe. Mike then started to quickly flip through the pages. Lets see. I think he said it was on page one twenty four. Ah, here it is. It says here: The mistress of rot frowns on those that murder her flock and those of innocents. It is not becoming of her followers to inflict pain and suffering on those that have done nothing against her children. Hmm, interesting. Dan: Whats that about? Mike: Wren told me about this book when I was alone with him. It apparently contains the teaching of his cult. He told me to read the last paragraph on this page. Saying that it would prove him and his cult are not violent. And based on what I just read, his cult doesn''t sound as particularly evil compared to other cults I''ve heard of. Joe: So whats your gut telling you Mikey? Mike: Im leaning towards him being harmless. Dan: Really!?! But hes a cultist. Mike: Dan, theres a reason why there''s a list of which cult is illegal. They are rare, but there are nameless cults out there that dont do anything particularly heinous. I learned about them when I learned about that list. Joe: Hmm. So, what do you think we should do, Dan? Dan: Y-you wanna hear my opinion? Joe: If I didn''t want to know, I wouldn''t have asked. Dan: Oh, um, he said while taking a moment to think about what he was going to say next. I say if we can, we arrest him. Cultists have committed no end of atrocities throughout the world. We cant trust him. Joe crossed his arms and closed his eyes. He started to ponder what his next action should be. Half of his team wanted to arrest him, while the other half was indicating that we could leave him alone. It was Joe''s decision that would break the tie on how they should handle Wren. Joe: Hmm. We didnt come here to arrest a cultist. So, we do nothing for now. Well do a little research about this guy later and if we find anything questionable about him or the cult he follows, well throw him into a jail cell. Both Dan and Mike looked at each other before nodding, deferring to their leader''s decision. Joe: Anyways, being a cultist might mean hes got some useful info that can help us with the Rob murder case. Joe then turned away from his team and approached Wren. Mike and Dan followed behind him, with Mike keeping some distance between himself and his team members. Joe: So, you have two options. I can drag you over to headquarters and throw you in a jail cell, or you can provide us with your wide array of skills and knowledge relating to your cult, and I might look the other way. Wren just looked at Joe and gave a long defeated sigh. He had completely surrendered himself to the situation he had found himself in. Wren: It doesn''t sound like I have much of a choice. Joe: I take it that means you will cooperate with us. Wren: Yeah, fine. Ill do whatever you want, so can you uncuff me now? Joe: Ill un-cuff one of your hands, but the jinsil cuff will remain on you somewhere. I dont want you casting spells. Wren: Whatever, I can''t cast spells anyways. As long as I don''t have to keep my hands behind my back like this. Its uncomfortable. Joe turned to Mike and made a simple gesture with his head. Mike then walked behind where Wren was sitting and undid one of the cuffs that was on. Once free, he brought his hands forward and started to rub his sore wrist. Joe reached into his jacket and pulled out the photo of the wooden object they found on Rob''s body. He then pushed the photo into Wren''s face. Joe: Have you seen this before? Wren took the photo in hand and examined it for a few seconds. The inquisitive look on his face changed to that of surprise once he realized something about the photo. Wren: Where did you find this? Joe: Im asking the question here. Do you know what it is? Wren: Yeah, of course I know what it is. Because I''m the one who made it. Chapter 28 - Continued Talks With A Cultist Inside the back room of the Mortar & Pestle, Joe was staring down Wren with extreme suspicion. Joe: What do you mean you made this? Youre saying you made this suicide device? Wren: What?! N-no. Its not a suicide device. Joe: What is it then?! What is that wooden thing I found on Rob''s body! He yelled at Wren passionately. Hearing that Wren was the person that made that wooden object set him off. There was now a possibility that Rob''s murderer was sitting right in front of him, if the wooden object was really a suicide device like cults members were known to use. Mike: Calm down there buddy, he said as he grabbed Joe shoulder and pulled him away from Wren slightly. Wren was looking away from Joe and shaking nervously from being yelled at. He was startled by Joe''s sudden outburst. Both Joe and Wren took a few seconds to compose themselves before Wren forced himself to speak. Wren: Y-you said body. D-does that mean Rob is dead? Joe: Yeah and that wooden object you made was identified as the cause of death. Wren: T-thats not possible. What I made for him was just an amulet of protection. Something to ward against evil. Joe: You gave him a ward? he said, confused as to why he would give someone like Rob a ward. Someone who couldn''t make use of it on account of Rob not being able to control aether. Wren: Its not a ward in the modern sense. It doesn''t protect you from physical harm like the wards you know. Its the classical kind of wards, the ones that are supposed to protect you from curses and the influence of things from beyond our world. Joe: Ive not heard of these kinds of wards. When you say it protects you from things beyond our world, do you mean he was cut off as Wren finished what he was about to say. Wren: The nameless gods. It is supposed to protect you from their influence, but more so the other things from beyond. Joe: What other things? Wren: I-I dont know. The teachings of Rot are kinda vague about that. Mike: Im noticing a discrepancy in your story, Wren. You said you cant cast spells, but can somehow create enchanted objects like this amulet. The question Mike presented was glaring. Enchanting an object requires the ability to cast spells. This fact was in contradiction in what Wren was saying about his ability to cast magic. Wren: That amulet was made using the old ways. No aether involved or needed. Mike: So, its just a piece of carved wood you gave him, he said while rolling his eyes. Wren: You can choose to believe that if you want. I know mages nowadays have no respect for the old ways. The old ways are often referred to as the old practices of magic. Before modern mage theory took over the world, magic was very random and archaic back in the day due to having a bunch of superstitions tied into it. It didnt always work because of the way they performed magic back then. A lot of the spells back in the day used no aether in their casting, which is now commonly understood as to why so many spells didnt work then. Modern Mage theory dictates that all spells must use aether, if a spell doesn''t doesn''t use aether, then it wont work or do anything. The theory has stripped away the superstitions and useless practices of spellcrafting to make magic more consistent. The magic that everyone uses today is thanks to modern mage theory. Therefore, Mike became very dismissive once he heard Wren said he crafted the amulet with the old ways. He knew that the only people that still talk about the old ways are those that have no aether, hoping that the old practices can somehow turn them into mages. It was all just smoke and mirrors to Mike. Mike: Sorry that I don''t believe in your superstitious nonsense. Wren: Its not nonsense! This is knowledge passed down to us by our mistress of Rot, he said passionately, clearly taking offense at Mikes comment. Mike: Mhm hm, he mumbled dismissively. And why did you feel the need to share your great knowledge with Rob in the form of that amulet. Wren: Its in the Putrid Rot clan''s creed to help people. He came to me for help. He was being haunted by something when he came to me, at least thats what he said when I met him. Thats why I gave him that amulet. Mike: You mean he was hunted by someone? Wren: No, I mean haunted. When he came to me he he wasn''t right. I dont know what it was, maybe a curse? The air surrounding him felt terribly wrong. I-Its hard to explain. It clicked in Joe''s brain as soon as Wren said it. The feeling he was describing about Rob reminded him of that unpleasant feeling that both him and Mike experienced just before Rob was found dead. Joe: That feeling you''re talking about. Did it leave your stomach feeling like it was tied in knots, and that you just wanted to run away, so much so it left you paralyzed. Wren: Y-yeah that kinda sounds right. Except, the paralyzed part. It was just unpleasant to be around him, I wasn''t left unable to move or anything like that. Joe: And, you felt this unpleasantness the moment you met him? Wren: No, it was only when we started talking that something started to feel off about him. He started talking about how he was being haunted by something, he wouldnt say what. He begged me to help him in any way I could. To do something to lessen the burden he was carrying until he could find a solution to the thing that was haunting him. Dan: When you say haunted, do mean like a ghost was affecting him. Mike: Dan, now''s not the time. Just let me and Joe do the questioning for now. Wren: Maybe? I dont know. It was his words not mine. Ghosts involve a bunch of forbidden magic and stuff I don''t know much about, he said, directed at Dans question. Joe: Let''s bring the focus back to Rob. You mention something about a solution to Rob''s problem. Did he say what that was? Wren: Um, no. Only what he needed to fix his problem was somewhere here in Graheel. He didnt say where in Graheel though. Joe started pondering to himself, fitting the info Wren provided into the Mystery of Rob murder. He left Graheel and went into hiding, then he came back to Graheel looking for something. Something that he believed would fix whatever was wrong with him. So, why did he turn himself in? Being confined at the police headquarters would limit his movement, making it hard to search for whatever he was looking for. Was he that irrational, or was there some reason I''m not seeing. Joe pondered to himself. Joe: Did he say if someone was chasing him or anything like that? Wren: Uh, he didnt mention anything like that. He just described it as evil following him, not a person or a group. Joe rested finger on his chin and started thinking. He turned himself in for protection. Was the thing he wanted protection from, something that wasn''t human. This is getting complicated. Joe concluded. Joe: So, tell me. What do you think was going on with Rob? Did you just give him that amulet to make him feel better? Wren: I poured through my clan''s books to look for anything that might help him. That amulet I made was something I found in one of those books, and it seemed to help. It felt a little more normal to be around him while he was holding it. So, I think it might have been a curse and the amulet was suppressing it. Joe: Did you make that amulet in two pieces? Wren: No, why? Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Joe: We found that amulet on his body in two pieces. Does that mean anything to you? Wren: If you allow me, i-i can look through the book that showed me how to make the amulet. It might say something about that. Joe: Fine, but I''m watching you. Wren stood up and walked to a nearby bookshelf. He looked through each book on the shelf one by one until he found the one he was looking for. He then walked over to a nearby table and placed the book on it before flipping through a bunch of pages. Joe and his team were standing over his shoulders watching his every action. Eventually he turned to a page that had a drawing of the protective amulet that looked exactly like the one they found on Rob, except it was whole, in one piece. Wren: OK here it is. Let me see. It says here: The amulet will protect you from the evils from beyond this world, but take heed, it will not protect you from powerful malevolent spirits, or those of the most potent of curses. In the face of such a thing, the amulet will fail and shatter... oh no. I didnt read that part, thats not good. Joe: Whats not good? Wren: If you found the amulet in two, that means what was affecting Rob was a lot more serious than I originally thought. I thought it was a curse that just made it feel terrible for him and to be around, but this is something else. Something that amulet couldn''t protect from. Joe: A malevolent spirit or powerful curse. Wren: Yeah. I don''t know how he died, but based on the broken amulet, it could have been a powerful curse. Mike: What nonsense is this? Curses dont kill people, theyre only meant to torment them. Curses were a highly illegal type of magic that fell within the category of black magic. The nature of this kind of magic was designed exclusively to torment people and it never kills. Police like Mike are very familiar with this type of magic. He had to deal with the victims of this kind of magic from time to time. So, he was skeptical of Wrens claim that a curse is what killed Rob. Wren: Thats a regular curse. The curse this book is referring to is something thats very powerful, a grudge incarnate. Its the kinda curse you might find invoked by a nameless god, or from lost magic. Maybe, even an exceptionally powerful archmage or specialist might be able to invoke it. That kinda curse doesn''t play by the normal rules. It definitely can kill someone. Mike just waved his hand and shook his head. Clearly not taking what Wren was saying seriously. Joe: I noticed your book presented two options of what could break your amulet. You''re very dismissive of the possibility of a malevolent spirit. Wren: The malevolent spirit that this book is referring to is more commonly known as a demon. Mike: Ha. Thats even more ridiculous than a curse killing someone. Wren: I disagree with your comment, but I understand that sentiment. Demons havent been seen in a really long time. The method on how to summon them into our world has long since been lost. Joe stood there and started to process the info Wren had. Mike had taken notice of this and spoke up. Mike: Joe. you dont actually think a demon is at work here. Joe: You know how I work. Leave every possibility open, but I agree it does seem unlikely. Although, there might be some truth to the curse business. Mike: Curses leave a mark on someone, even after death. It was one of the first things the forensics team checked for on Rob''s body, but they didnt find anything. Joe: That might be true for a normal curse, but a special powerful curse might not leave any mark. Isn''t that right Wren? Wren: Um, i-i dont know. Myself and my clan don''t engage in that kinda stuff. Mike: More likely cause you cant. You need to be able to control aether to put a curse on someone. Cmon, it cant be a curse that killed Rob. Joe: Maybe it didnt kill him, but there still might''ve been a curse on him. It would explain that weird feeling. Also, the fact that Wren here felt it as well cant be a coincidence. Therefore, if there was a curse on Rob, someone had to put it on him. Thats how curses work. Mike: You might have a point, he begrudgingly admitted. But if thats true, its not a good lead. Anyone that can cast magic could curse him. Joe: Again, youre thinking this is a normal curse. That feeling we both experienced was not something I ever felt from a normal curse before. Whoever put that curse on Rob had to be special, and not just anyone. Therefore, do you have any idea who it might be that cursed Rob, Wren? Wren: Why are you asking me? Joe: Why do you think. Wren: I just got done saying that me and my clan dont curse people. Just because we are labeled as a cult doesn''t mean we practice black magic like other cults. Joe: Yeah, but you''re significantly closer than me to the kinds of people that would use curse magic. So think, is there someone in this city specifically that might have cursed Rob. Wren: I dont know Rob well enough to know the kind of person he could have messed with to curse him like that. Joe: You bring up an interesting point. What is your relationship with Rob? Wren: Like I said. He came to me for help. Joe: You just expect me to believe he wandered into here looking for help, in this place that just so happened to have you, a Putrid Rot cultist working at. Wren: I mean, isn''t that what is kinda going on with you right now. Joe: Hmm, touch. I cant even be mad at that. Thatsexactly on point, He chuckled a little at the irony. But, I still dont believe he just wandered in here. Wren: He heard from someone else about me and came to see if I could help. Joe: Who did he hear it from? Wren: I dont know. Joe: Really now. Not curious at who is telling other people theres a cultist living here. Wren: I just assumed that he got this information from a Nighthounds info broker. Joe: Do you have some sort of connection with the Nighthounds, for you to assume that. Wren: No, obviously not. You guys would be fucked if I did. I just hear about that stuff like everyone else. You know, speak a secret and the hounds will hear it. That kind of stuff. Speak a secret and the hounds will hear it, is a common saying in Graheel. Its said that the Nighthound knows everything that goes on in the city. Mike: Hmm. Starting to look like a dead lead. I dont know where we go from here Joe. Joe: Its not dead yet. Wren, do you know anyone thats an expert in curses? Wren: I told you. We don''t curse people. Go ask the church or university if you want to talk to somebody that knows that stuff. Joe: Im not asking for someone that studies curses or lifts them. I wanna know someone who actively curses people. Someone that might be able to curse Rob like you''re suggesting. Wren: We dont Joe: You''re gonna say you dont curse people. Maybe thats true, but is that true for the other people that live in this citys underbelly? With your position as a cultist, Im sure youve at least heard stories about the more unsavory people living in this city. So, help us out Wren. You say your cults'' creed is to help people, and we need help to find a murderer. So, think. An awkward silence that followed after Joe. Both Joe and Wren looked at each other intensely for a few seconds, but it was Wren who folded and looked away from Joe. Wren looked tired and defeated as he mumbled something under his breath. Wren: Maybeno. I dont know anyone. Joe: Wren, you''re not in a great position here. So you being honest with us and helping out is going to go a long way. We might even part from here and completely forget you being a cultist. Wren: I-i, its j-just a rumor; but, there is apparently a really powerful guy that lives somewhere here in Graheel. Maybe he might be the one you''re looking for. Joe: Who is this guy? Wren: No one knows; they just call him the Keeper of Lost Secrets, or the Keeper for short. S-supposedly, he possesses all manner of rare artifacts and books that are supposed to be lost to the age. Some even say hes ancient and can even cast lost and ancient magic. Hes a person that came up in conversation I had with ambitious collectors and seekers of forgotten lore. Joe: OKWhere do we find this Keeper you''re talking about? Joe was beginning to believe that Wren didnt have any good leads for him. Hes gotten people to this point before, where they start scraping the bottom of the barrel of their mind for some information. Once they start speaking such vague rumors like what Wren was doing, its often a sign to Joe that they dont have much for him. Wren: I-I dont know. Its just a rumor I heard about and I don''t know anyone that has met this guy, or if I''m honest, I don''t even know if this person really exists. Joe was starting to feel a little frustrated. He was hoping to actually get some really good information, due to Wren being a cultist, and a seemingly knowledgeable one at that. The only useful info he got was that Rob might have been cursed, based on Wren''s interaction with Rob. The other claims and rumors Wren provided needed additional information and research for them to be possibly useful, and Joe wasn''t that confident that it would be. Mike: Cmon Joe. Youre trying to squeeze blood from a rock here. This guy got nothing for us. Just weird rumors. Joe: Yeah he said followed by a long sigh. Joe then reached forward and grabbed Wren''s one wrist and undid the jinsi still attached to it. Joe: Heres whats going to happen. Were going to take the book we found in your basement and this book," he said as he picked up the book that contained information of the amulet Wren had made. "And study its contents for a while before returning it to you. Wren: AhWhat happens to me? Joe: Nothing, assuming everything you said was true and you''re not getting up to some heinous shit. Wren: Just like that? Joe: Yup, why? Do you expect me to throw you in jail? Wren: H-honestly yes. I expect most cops wouldn''t even give me time of day and just shoot me on the spot, once they found out I''m a cultist. Joe: Well, count yourself lucky that I''m not like most cops, he said, as he began to vacate the store along with his team. ?????????????????? Joe quickly exited the Mortar & Pestle feeling tired at what just occurred. He began to walk down the street toward where their vehicle was parked. Dan and Mike were walking behind him following. Mike: Hows it possible to be so lucky on the Wren lead, yet we dont know much more than what we did before, he said from behind Joe. Joe: You and I know it comes with the job of being an investigator. Dan: Was it really a good idea to just leave that guy alone? Joe: I think hes harmless, if a bit strange. At least thats my gut feeling, and my gut has never led me astray. Dan: If you say so. Where do we go from here? Joe: We do a background check on Wren and go through these books, and if there is nothing weird we can find about Wren, we pursue the next lead we still have. Mike: Im sure well find something weird about Wren, but nothing particularly illegal or helpful. Joe: Yeah, thats my guess too. Once thats done, we head off to Vaal street to find out anything about Mark. So, you better prepare Dan. Dan: Thats on the east side, where the Nighthounds operate. Is that a good idea? Mike: No, its not. Joe: But, we dont got much choice, he said as continued walking forward. Side Story 1 - The Baker Next Door Content warning - Domestic Abuse -Twenty years ago. A few weeks after John came to this world.- Lindsey was going about her day of preparing dough. Its what she did every day for the last eight years. It was not something she really wanted to do, but she needed to make a living. Over the years she had converted the ground floor of her home into a bakery. Old bookshelves had been converted into makeshift displays for the bread. She had refurbished an old cash register she had found in the garbage, and moved the oven out of the kitchen to the front to watch customers while bread was baking. Everything was old and grimy and mostly second hand, but it was the best she could do to run a legitimate business. The establishment itself would not offer the impression of a well to do business, quite the opposite. It was, however, not struggling due to Lindsey''s efforts, but her husband. Her husband Dave was a drunk, spending a lot of the money she managed to make on booze or gambling. It was frustrating for Lindsey. They lived on the east end of the city, which meant her customer base were people that were bordering on poverty, and people who were outright impoverished. This meant her margin for profit was incredibly narrow, and then she has a husband that would spend that money on drinks rather than help run the business. Thinking about such things made her so angry. She would then take that energy and beat the dough a little harder. Tim: Mom, is everything OK? Lindsey: Oh Tim. You''re home. When did you get back from school? Tim: I''ve been home for a while mom. I called out to you earlier, but you were too busy with bread making to hear me. Lindsey: Oh. Sorry about that. Is there something mamma can do for you? Tim: Can I help? Lindsey: What? Tim: Well you look tired and I thought I could help you around the store. Lindsey: No no no. Dont worry about that. You just focus on your studies, or go play with your friends if you have your homework done. It looked like Tim was about to say something else, but stop. Tim: Ok He said with a sad look in his eyes. Tim went upstairs to his bedroom. As soon as he was out of sight, Lindsey went back to kneading dough. Getting lost in her work again. Lindsey knew she wasn''t fooling anybody, even her eight year old son could see she was tired. She didnt want to worry her son, but was failing at that. The truth of the situation was that Dave was getting more rowdy lately and has been hitting her more often. Dave found a new bar selling cheap booze and has been going to it. The problem was that when Dave got drunk, he could get violent, and cheap booze meant it was more likely to happen. In the past, she knew how to defuse him when he was in a drunken state, but now that he was coming home every other day drunk. It was too much for her. Ding. She just wanted to leave this place and never return, but she couldnt. She couldnt leave her son here. Lindsey herself was prepared to live on the streets to get away from that man, but that was something she would never put Tim through. So, in secret she was hiding money in preparation to run away with her son, but was still far off from having enough to do so. Ding ding She was trapped. The only thing she could do was grin and bear it, and hope for some miracle to happen. Ding ding ding. She was so stressed she could hear ringing in her head. Wait. That ringing sounded like the bell on the front table. She thought to herself. Sure enough, when she turned her head there was a man standing by the front desk ringing the call bell with a box in his hand. She walked towards the front desk flustered at not noticing the bell sooner. Lindsey noted the man''s features. It was a new face she hadnt seen before. He was tall and well dressed with black hair and red eyes. The red eyes were odd, but she just chalked it up to the man being a mutant with a subtle mutation. Lindsey herself was not put off by mutants like people in the west end. After all, with the majority of mutants living on this side of the city, you would inevitably need to interact with them. She ultimately didnt care who or what walked through that door, as long as they were paying customers. Lindsey: Sorry about that. What can I get ya. John: A pleasure to meet you. I''m John Li. Your new neighbor, he said with a smile as he stuck his hand out to be shaken. Lindsey looked at the man''s hand for a little while before awkwardly shaking it. Lindsey: I''m Lindsey Gorm. Um, nice to meet you too. I didnt know anyone was moving in recently. She had been so busy dealing with Dave it didnt surprise her that someone new moved in without her noticing, not that she cared. People around here kept to themselves, with any interaction between them being purely transactional. Herself no exception. John: Yeah. I moved here about a week ago. It was quite a sudden move too, so I expect most around the neighborhood have yet to notice. Lindsey: Oh. OK. After she said that there was this awkward silence between them. It went on for a bit too long. She could tell that the man was clearly struggling to maintain his smile and composure. John: Um-um. I-I brought a housewarming gift. I made them myself, kinda, but not really. Um, it''s hard to explain. Lindsey: Housewarming gift? Isnt that something your neighbors are supposed to give you, not the other way around. John''s face was starting to turn a little red with embarrassment. John: Y-yes I suppose you''re right. Um, then just a gift. A gift for our meeting today, he said as he pushed the white box he was holding towards Lindsey. Lindsey: Right. So is there anything else I can help you with? she said as she set the box to the side. John: Um, no? Thats everything. Um, it was nice meeting you. If you need anything I''m right next door. he said as he turned awkwardly to leave the store. Lindsey: Wait a moment. As she said this, John froze. Are you sure you dont want to purchase some bread before you go? John: Bread? Right, this is a bakery. he said as tuned to face Lindsey. Lindsey: It sure is. John: Um, OK then. Any recommendations? Lindsey: We got normal bread and heavy bread. If you want something sweet, come back during a holiday and I''ll have something for you. John: What''s heavy bread? Lindsey: It''s bread that will fill ya, but doesn''t taste the greatest. Its the cheaper option. If you want something that doesn''t taste terrible, go for the regular bread. John: OK Then I guess I''ll have a loaf of the regular. Lindsey nodded and proceeded to take a loaf of regular bread she baked earlier and put it in a paper bag before handing it to john. Lindsey: That will be three glint. He nodded his head before reaching into his pocket for a wallet. He then fumbled through his wallet to look for money to pay her. Oh boy. This guy really has no social skills. Hes such a nervous wreck. His composure breaks a little and he cant string sentences together, or even pull money out of his wallet without struggling. She thought to herself with some pity. On the surface it looked like John was struggling with his wallet, the reality was John had no idea how the currency denominations worked in this world. He was still really new to this world. While he seemed to have somehow gained the ability to talk to the people of this world, that didnt extend to being able to read this world''s script. The bills he had in his wallet had a bunch of symbols on them that meant nothing to him. He was already feeling a little embarrassed and didnt want to make himself look worse, so John grabbed a silver looking bill in his wallet and handed it to Lindsey. Lindsey: Thank you. Let me just get your change. she said, taking the money. John: Keep the change. Lindsey: Oh, OK. She said as she handed him the bread. While handing the bread off to John, her sleeves rolled up a little, revealing some bruises on her forearm. John noticed this. John: Um, is everything OK? Lindsey: Yeah. Why do ya ask she stopped mid sentence and noticed the bruise on her arm was showing. She then quickly pulled her sleeve down. Lindsey: D-dont worry about it. Telling John not to worry so quickly only made him more suspicious. He guessed she might be dealing with some sort of physical abuse. He wanted to help, but they just met each other and felt he had no right to involve himself. Regardless, he still intended to offer what help he could. John: If you need any help, I''m right next door. Seriously, please dont hesitate, he said, as he quietly took his bread and left the store. As the door closed behind John, Lindsey was left alone in her store speechless. Lindsey was surprised. She was used to people not caring. There was a time that Dave hit her in the face, giving her a black eye, something she couldn''t easily hide. Her regulars would come into the store after that happened and say nothing about it, despite the abuse being clear for all to see. This was just the way things worked for people living on the east side of Graheel. You look out for yourself and keep your nose out of other people''s business. She was cynical and couldnt believe John''s concern was genuine at first, but the man was so awkward she also couldn''t believe he was capable of lying. Someone that can still care about total strangers. How did a guy like that end up here? She absentmindedly wondered before noticing the sun was going down. She quickly closed up shop and started preparing dinner. ?????????????????? One hour later. Lindsey had finally finished cooking dinner. It consisted of a stew made with the cheapest vegetable she could buy and leftover bread she failed to sell. She must have made this a thousand times already and was sick of it, but it was this or going hungry. She served up a bowl worth of stew and called for her son. Lindsey: Tim. Dinner is ready, she yelled out Tim: Coming mom, he yelled in response to his mother. Thumping above Lindsey''s head could be heard as Tim made his way downstairs. Once downstairs and seated at the table they both began to eat their dinner. Tim was telling his mom about the things he learned in school while they ate. The subject he was learning about white mages today. He went on about how he would become one and beat up all of the evil mages. Lindsey thought it was adorable. She played along and encouraged Tim, to allow him to dream a little longer. She did not have the heart to tell him he would never be a mage, let alone a white mage. Neither her or her husband had any magical abilities, meaning Tim was unlikely to develop any ability to use aether, especially if he hadnt developed them already. After dinner was done Tim noticed the white box in the corner. Tim: Hey mom, what''s in the box? It was the gift that John had given her. She was so focused on preparing dinner that she had forgotten about it. She didnt even bother to see what hed given her, so she didnt exactly know what it was. Lindsey: Not sure honey. Let me check. She opened up the box expecting to find some simple baked goods like pancakes, but the contents were far different and perplexed her. She saw round spheres like disks neatly placed in rows, each one a different color of a rainbow. What in the world? Are these some sort of toy? She silently thought to herself. She believed that the objects were far too bright and colorful to be simply food, but she couldn''t figure out the application. She could only guess that it was some sort of bouncy ball. Wanting to test that theory she one picked it up, only to discover how soft and brittle it was. It fell apart in her hand with the application of little pressure. The outside was hard, but the inside was soft and cakey with a layer of cream in the center. Lindsey: By the light, are these cakes? How are they so colorful? Even the cream in the center matches the color on the outside. she mumbled to herself. She had no idea what they were, because she couldnt. These were baked goods that John had manifested in his store, using the memories of the world he originally was from. They were macarons, a type of baked goods that does not exist in this world. The food coloring used in them was also something people would have never seen. Coloring in food was mostly non-existence for average people. Achieving a similar result would require very expensive ingredients. Lindsey, unaware of all this, was worried about the baked goods in front of her. Was it safe to eat, was it even meant to be eaten, was this some weird alchemical experiment? All these questions ran through her head as she stared at the crumbled macaron in her hand. Tim: Mmmm. So good, he mumbled with his mouth full of food. Lindsey dropped the macaron and turned her head to see her son stuffing his face with one. She was so focused on the macaron in her hand that she failed to notice her son helping himself to one in the box. Lindsey: T-timmy! Spit that out right now! she yelled. Tim: B-but why? You said it was dessert, he said wide-eyed and confused. Lindsey: It could be poisonous! Tim: Why would dessert be poisonous? he said, as he swallowed. It was too late. Tim had already swallowed the macaron. Lindsey grabbed her son and stared at him intensely for a few minutes, looking for any sign of poisoning. She had heard alchemical mixtures were fast acting and would reveal effect soon after consuming, but nothing happened. Tim: Um-um, did I do something wrong? Lindsey: Do you feel weird or anything? Tim: N-no? She took a deep breath and calmed herself down, before letting go of her son. Tim seemed all right. If it was some sort of weird alchemy experiment, something should have happened by now. This left her perplexed. If it wasn''t the work of alchemy, was it really just baked goods? But how could that man afford to dye food like this in such vibrant colors. Who is this John guy? She wondered to herself. Tim: Am I In trouble? Lindsey: No, but you shouldn''t eat random things. Tim: Im sorry. I thought I was meant to be eaten. It just smelled so sweet. Lindsey: Was it good? She said with a smile, a lot calmer now that she was pretty sure that the baked goods she received were not dangerous. Tim: Hmm humm. It was the best tasting thing I ever had. Oh, but I still really like your baked goods mom. he said, worried about hurting his mothers feelings. Looking at the box of strangely colorful baked goods made her curious. Her son was ok after eating and said they were tasty. She too wanted to know how they taste. She picked up another of the strange baked goods from the box that was bright pink. Lindsey took a big bite. It was slightly chewy, sweet, and nutty with a fruity flavor she was unfamiliar with. She thought her son was overreacting about how good it was, as children tend to do, but he wasnt too far off about how delicious it was. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Lindsey hated to admit, but even if she had access to the best ingredients and equipment, she wasn''t sure if she could make something like this. Hurting her pride as a baker a little. Lindsey: Oh, wow. Its really good, she said, surprised. Tim: See. I told you. Lindsey: That you did. You can have two more of these, cookies? And, then it''s off to bed, OK. Tim: OK, mom. he said with a big childish smile. Her son grabbed two more of the colorful baked goods and ran up to his room. Lindsey was now left alone in the kitchen. She went through the usual routine of collecting the dishes and washing them thoroughly, before placing them back neatly in the cupboard. She then wiped down the kitchen table with a damp cloth. Once she felt that everything was adequately clean, she headed to the front of their home and grabbed the cash register. She carried it back to the kitchen and laid it on the table with a thud. She was intending on counting the amount she made today. She wasn''t expecting much. It was a slow day and there weren''t many customers. There would be almost no point in doing this if it wasn''t for her husband. Lindsey needed to get to the money in the register before he did. She needed to hide it away so that it wouldnt be taken for Daves drinking. She pushed a button in the register and the cash tray pushed out. She took what was in there and placed the money in different piles to make it easier to sort. She could tell by a quick glance that she only made only around twenty glint today. She let out a long sigh. It''s going to be one of those days. She disappointingly thought to herself She began to count the money. As she was counting she noticed that one of the silver ten glint bills looked a little strange. The number on it was wrong and had too many digits on it. Ah, shit. Did someone give me a counterfeit bill? Was it that weird new neighbor? Nah, it would be pretty dumb to scam your neighbor like this. I guess I have ten less glints than I originally thought. She silently thought to herself. She grabbed a pair of scissors from a nearby drawer and started shredding the note. As she was doing this, she was having a hard time. Her scissors couldnt cut through it, the note would just push itself between the blades instead of cutting. After fiddling with the note for a minute, she threw the scissor and note down on the table in frustration. She then buried her face in the palms of her hands and started crying. The frustration the counterfeit bill gave her was the final nail in her miserable day that broke her down. I just cant take it anymore. Nothing in my life has ever gone right. Why me? Ive tried my best and its never enough. She thought to herself while silently weeping, trying to make sure her son couldnt hear her. She sat there quietly weeping for five minutes before she was able to eventually pull herself back together. After rubbing her eyes, she noticed something strange about the fake bill. It was a bright shade of gray, unlike the normal ten glint bills. Also, despite her rough handling of the bill, there were no crinkles on it at all. She stared at it curiously for a while, and a thought popped into her head. Wait. Isn''t there something called a platinum bill? A type of bill that denotes incredibly large amounts of glint. I hear those kinds of bills are enchanted in a way that makes them hard to damage and prevent counterfeits. It couldnt be She immediately got up and rushed over to another nearby drawer. She rummaged through until she found a lighter. Lindsey ran back to the kitchen table and picked up the odd silver bill. She ignited the lighter and put the bill under the flame. A minute went by, but the note didnt deform or burn from the flame beneath it. Lindsey: T-t-t-t-this is a real platinum bill! And, it says its worth fifty thousand glint! she half yelled out in surprise. The bill not burning confirmed in Lindsey''s mind that it was the real thing. Fifty thousand glint was more than enough for her to set herself and son up in a new place, away from Dave. She still couldnt entirely believe it. She didnt think that this was real, but there wasn''t anything telling her otherwise. But where did this come from? Wait, was it that John guy. she wondered to herself. Lindsey wasn''t entirely sure if it was him, but she wasn''t going to let this go to waste. She quickly moved to a nearby shelf in the kitchen and slowly started to push it to the side. The shelf made a high pitched scraping sound as it was pushed. Once it was moved about a foot, a small hole in the wall hidden behind was revealed. Lindsey reached her arm into the hole and rummaged around a little and pulled a small metal lock box. She placed it on the kitchen table and popped it open. Inside was a collection of bills she had been collecting for awhile now. It was a paltry amount, but the platinum bill would make up for it. She placed the fifty thousand glint note securely in it, then headed upstairs with the lock-box under her arm. Lindsey: Tim! Pack up your things! Were leaving! she called out to her son. Tim came out of his room to see his mother quickly coming up the stairs. Tim: W-whats happening? Lindsey: I said were leaving. Grab your favorite things and clothing and put them into a bag. Tim: Where are we going? Lindsey: Ill tell you later. Just listen to mamma and do what you''re told. Tim: O-OK, he said before heading back into his room to pack up. Lindsey made her way to her bedroom and started pulling out clothing from the dresser and closet, before throwing them on her bed to sort. As she was going through her things, she found the box that contained her wedding ring. Inside was a ring made from fake gold that her husband had given her at their wedding. Thinking about it, the day of the wedding was one of the times she was the happiest. They were not rich, but she was so hopeful back then and truly believed that Dave loved her. But, the last ten years had eroded what positive feeling she had left for him. Even so, she was having a hard time parting with her ring. She ended up throwing the ring in her luggage with the metal lockbox and the rest of her things. Fifteen minutes went by with Lindsey packing. Once Lindsey felt that she had everything needed, she picked up her bag and went over to her sons room to check on him. Tim was inside his room struggling to shove some his toys into a backpack. By the shape of the backpack, Lindsey could tell that there were only toys packed in it. Lindsey: What are you doing Tim? I told you to take only your favorite toy. Tim: B-but there are all my favorites, and I don''t know how long were going to be away. Lindsey: You need to take some clothing. Here, she said as she took the bag and emptied out the contents of the bag and placed the toys on Tims bed. You chose two of the toys you like the most, and I''ll pack for you. Her son nodded in response. Lindsey went through her sons dresser and threw a bunch of clothing into his bag. While she was doing this, Tim was struggling to decide what toy to keep. Eventually she finished packing and turned back to her son. Lindsey: Ok, did you decide what you want to take? Tim: I-i think I''ll take these things, he said, handing her an action figure of a knight in armor and a yoyo. She took the toys and put them in her son''s backpack. Lindsey: OK, lets go, she said while taking her sons hand. They made their way down the steps and to the front of the bakery. They approached the front door of their home before stopping. The door swung open and standing in their way was Dave. He stood little over six feet (1.85 meter) and sported a ugly patchy beard. He had brown hair and had signs of balding on one side of his head. In his left hand was a nearly empty glass bottle of some spirit. Daves clothing was a mess and his face was bright red with a sheen of sweat and he smelled of booze. It was clear to everybody present that he had been drinking heavily. Dave: Wha-acha going ere? he said while slurring his words and barely forming coherent sentences. For a brief moment Lindsey''s heart sank at her husband''s appearance, but she put on a brave front and just decided to tell him what she was doing. Lindsey: Were leaving, Dave. Dave: W-whatz do you mean you''re l-leavingz? Itz so late. L-lets just go back to bedz. Lindsey: No. Im leaving you and I''m taking our son with me. Dave: Whatz dis about? Lindsey: You know exactly what this is about. Its your drinking. You''re ruining our business and you''re hurting me, Dave. Your family. Dave: Letz just calm down. I knowz you upsets. I-Ill make dings right. Soz justz calm down. Lindsey: Im not going to calm down. Ive put up with your behavior for almost ten years. If you''re not going to even try for me or your son, then well just go. Dave: I knowz you mad. B-but, thiz is last time, I swear. I wont, i wont, i wont drinkz no more. he said with a burp that smelled of alcohol. Lindsey: I''m not going to do this anymore. You always say this is the last time. You always say you''re not going to drink . You before she could say anything else, she was smacked in the face by Dave. Dave: You fucking bitch. You fucking thinkz my word no good now. Knowz your place. Tim: Leave her alone! he yelled out. Lindsey straightened herself out and looked back at Dave defiantly, with a clear bruise on her face now from where she was hit. Lindsey: Were leaving. Move. she sternly stated. She tried to push past Dave to leave, but was pushed back by him. Dave: Youz can leave when i say youz can leave. She tried to shove him out of the way, but was then clocked in the nose by her husband. Lindsey went tumbling backwards from the strike and landed on her side, her nose broken. Tim: No! Mom! he yelled out and rushed to help his mother up. Blood was now dripping out of her nostrils. She held her sleeve up to her nose, trying to stop the blood from getting all over her shirt. She then looked up and saw the silhouette of her husband standing in the doorway of their home, standing over her. Never in her life did Dave look more like a monster than at this moment. Dave: Lookz like Imma teachz you a leasonz, he said, continuing to badly slur his word. He started to walk toward Lindsey. She tried to crawl away from Dave, but he grabbed her and then got on top, preventing her from getting away. He got on his knees and bent down towards her, and with his free hand, he wrapped it around her neck and began to strangle her. Tim: Stop it! Leave mom alone! he yelled at his father while hitting him. Tims punches were not doing much to stop his father, he was still a small eight year old boy, and not strong enough to get his father off Lindsey. Tims weak punches were only annoying Dave. Eventually Dave got fed up with his son. He took the bottle still in his hand and smashed it against the side of the boy''s head. The bottle shattered, leaving only the neck of the bottle still in his hand. Alcohol and sharp shards of glass went flying into Tims head, cutting and drawing blood around the poor child''s face with the alcohol stinging his wounds and eyes at the same time. Tim: Ahh, he cried out with tears of pain while falling to the side. Lindesy was struggling to get free from Dave''s grip. She watched as her husband smashed a bottle into her son, and lost it. She was enraged that he hurt her son. Lindsey started to dig her nails into his arm and tried to pry him off herself. Dave: Calm downz you bitchz, he yelled at her. She continued to struggle against his grip, but he was too strong. It was hard for her to breath and her vision was becoming blurry. In a final act of desperation, she raised her leg and kicked Dave right in the groin. Dave cried out in pain and let Lindsey go to hold his family jewels. He collapsed on top of her and she then pushed him off to the side, all while he was groaning in pain. She quickly stood up and ran up to her son, who was on the ground trying to rub the alcohol out of his eyes. There was a bunch of small shards of glass that had embedded itself in his head near his face. Lindsey wanted to take the time to properly treat her son, but she knew it would only be a matter of time before Dave would recover from that groin kick, and then he would come after her. She grabbed Tim by his hand and helped him back onto his feet. Lindsey: Timmy, it''s going to be ok. Just hold onto mammas hand and try to keep up. Tim: O-OK, he said in a scared tone as he continued to try and rub the alcohol out of his eyes. She grabbed her bag and ran out the front door with her son in hand. As she did that, Dave was already starting to get back and saw them running. Not wanting to let them go in his drunken state, he threw what was left of his bottle at Lindsey. The glass hit her in the back and she felt a sharp pain, but with adrenaline already high, she ignored it and kept running. She didnt know what to do. Even in a drunken state, she knew that he would be able to chase them down as long as she had Timmy with her, slowing her down. She thought about asking for help from one of her neighbors, but she knew none of them would help her. This was still the eastside, people only look after themselves around here. She then remembered that strange red-eyed man. She didnt have any better idea, so she thought of asking John for help. Lindsey remembered he said they were neighbors. She looked around and saw a strange new store called the Mystic Emporium beside the bakery. It wasn''t just the store that looked strange, but the whole building too. It looked like a different building from other nearby stores, it was like somehow a completely new building was shoved beside her that wasn''t there before. She didnt have time to ponder the peculiarity of the architecture. Dave was starting to recover from the pain and was making his way outside. She rushed to the front of the mystic emporium and banged on the door. There was no response, but the door didnt seem to be latched. As she banged, the door just opened. She was momentarily confused about someone leaving their door open like that in this neighborhood, but then saw Dave in the corner of her eye and rushed inside. Now inside Johns store, she continued to be surprised to see an antique store with such a variety of items on display. There were shelves full of all kinds of interesting items she has never seen before. Lindsey: John! Are you there? she yelled out. There was no response or movement. Lindsey: Please! I-I-I needsomehelp, she said as her visions started to blur. She felt dizzy and couldnt maintain her balance. Eventually just collapsing face first on the floor. Her vision faded to black as she lost consciousness. Tim was eventually able to get vision in one of eyes somewhat restored. When he did, he could see his mother collapsed on the floor in front of him laying in a pool of blood. In her back was the piece of Dave''s broken bottle sticking out of her back. The remains of the glass bottle he threw had punctured her quite deep. The adrenaline kept Lindsey from fully feeling the extent of the damage done to her. Blood gushed out of the wound and pooled around her. Tim could now see a clear trail of blood to the front door of the store to his mother. Tim rushed over to help his mother, but he didnt know what to do. He was just an eight year old boy and this was beyond anything anyone would ever expect him to know how to handle. Tim: M-mom, he cried out. Dave: Fucking bitch. Zee, this why i tellz you not to run. Tim turned his head and saw his father standing inside the store just in front of the doorway. Dave: Wellz, I guess it you turn next ya little shitz, he said as he rolled up his sleeves and prepared to beat his son next. Not showing any signs of concern for his wife bleeding out on the floor. Tim sat there beside his dying mother shaking in fear as Dave approached Tim. Dave seemed to have somehow tripped over himself in his drunken state. Dave: Ah, fuck! he yelled as he fell. Laying on the ground, he looked at his son, now even angrier. He was about to get up when something, that neither Dave or Tim could see, grabbed him by the ankle. Dave: W-what? Aaaah. he yelled as he was dragged. In one quick motion, he was pulled by his right leg across the floor by some unseen force. He was dragged deeper into the store, towards the darkness. Dave grabbed the leg of a nearby table to try and stop whatever was pulling him, but the forcing pulling was too strong and his hand slipped, dragging him even faster. He was taken beyond from where Tim could see him. His yells quickly turned from a yell of surprise, to screams of abject terror. Crunch, splat, snap, pop, and strange bubbling sound were all that Tim could hear, along with the fading screams of his father. It all happened quickly and then became quiet, an eerie silence. It was a kind of silence that would be almost unbearable, but at the same time was also too frightening to break. Tim sat there confused. The poor boy didnt understand what had just happened. He looked towards the darkness from where his father was pulled into, waiting for some sort of reaction. There was something in the dark shadows of this store. Out of the darkness came an amorphous thing that moved into view of Tims sight. It dripped with an inky black darkness that devoured light and wore a white porcelain mask without any features except two dark eye holes. The mask was almost comically small compared to the rest of this creature''s body. The creature slowly slithered, or maybe crawled towards Tim. It was impossible to tell. Its movement and very existence was beyond understanding to human minds. It was unnatural. Every fiber of the little boys being was absolutely terrified. Something told him it was more than just a monster. It was indescribable. Just looking at it was unfathomable, Tims mind tried to reject its existence and it made his skull feel like it was going to crack open. Mortal minds were not meant to see such a thing, there would be no words that could be used to properly explain what Tim saw. It got real close, and what Tim could only assume was its head, bent down until the white mask it wore was only a foot away from Tims face. Somehow he knew that under that mask was a more terrifying existence still. Within the void of those eye sockets in the mask, it started to glow an otherworldly orange light. Tim: Ahhhhhhhhh he screamed in terror in response to the creatures glowing eyes. Tims screams would go unheard this night, by anything human. ?????????????????? Lindsey opened up her eyes and quickly sat up in a panic. She got up so quickly, that a wet cloth that was on her forehead went flying. It flew across the room, hitting something with a wet splat. She looked around confused with a worried sweat. She was in her bed in her room. The last thing she remembered was fainting in the neighbors store. ???: A-are you OK? Looking across from her bed was Dave. The wet cloth that flung off her forehead had hit Dave in the face, and he was calmly peeling it off himself at the moment. In his hands was a bowl of water with more clothes in it. Seeing Dave, Lindsey panicked and started to push her body back into the headboard of the bed, all in an attempt to get herself as far away from him as possible. Lindsey: G-g-get away! she yelled at him. Dave, with a pained expression, looked like he was about to say something, but stopped. There was now an awkward silence between the two that was only broken by the sound of a door behind Dave opening. Tim: Mamma! the little boy yelled out as he came running into the room, towards his mother. Lindsey: Tim! She yelled back. She grabbed her son''s face as he approached and looked over him carefully. She was making sure the cut he got when Dave hit him was ok, but couldn''t see anything like that. She remembered vividly the glass shard sticking out of Tims head as they were running, but it was gone and there wasn''t even a scar. Lindsey: Are you OK? Who treated your cuts? Tim just looked at his mother with an almost distant look for a second. There was a pause as the little boy was thinking about something before he then spoke. Tim: Um, Im not sure what you mean. Lindsey: Dave hurt you and we were running and then, and then She then paused as something felt off. There were gaps in her memory and the bit she did recall didnt feel right. Her recollection of her entering the neighbors store felt almost more like a dream than a memory. It made her doubt what happened last night was real. Her son didnt have any damage on his face and was displaying no knowledge of what she was saying, combined with the weird feeling about that memory, she wasn''t so sure what happened. Dave: Um, Lindsey. You fainted last night, while you were cooking dinner. Lindsey: I fainted? she repeated and started to calm down a little about Daves presence. Dave: Yeah, I got someone to look at you while you were unconscious. They said it was likely due to stress. Lindsey: Ohso it was a dream she mumbled to herself sadly. With Daves behavior lately, the idea that she fainted from stress made sense to her. She was starting to come to terms that everything that happened was just a dream, but it was still deeply disappointing to her. It meant that the platinum bill she had was just part of a dream. Of course it was a dream. As if I would be so lucky to ever find a platinum bill. She thought to herself. Without that money, she knew that meant she was trapped here with her abusive husband. Dave: Um, Lindsey. I-I know that maybe this isn''t the best time or that if youll actually believe me, but im going to stop Lindsey: Stop what? she said without even looking at her husband. Dave: Drinking. I know I''ve said it before, but I really mean it this time. You fainted because of me, because of what I''ve done. Ive always known that I needed to stop and have failed every time, but when I found you in that state, I-I couldnt stand the thought of losing you. he said sincerely with some tears in his eyes starting to form. She had heard it a thousand times before that he would give up drinking. It never changed anything. He would renege on his promise and go back to the bottle. Any hope that she had of him actually keeping in his promise had died out a long time ago. However, something about this time felt different to Lindsey. It somehow felt more sincere than it had ever in the past. Lindsey: Do you mean it? she said, still unsure. Dave: Yeah I''m going to start being a real father and helping around here. So, you just get some rest. Ill run the bakery and look after our son for today, OK? Lindsey didnt respond and just nodded. Daves face looked even more pained at his wife''s response and then turned to his son. Dave: Tim, comeon. Lets give your mother a rest. he said as he opened the door to the room. Tim hugged his mother before running over to the bedroom door, exiting the bedroom along with his father. Once Lindsey was alone she started quietly crying. Everything that had happened in the past with Dave told her that he was lying. That this would not be any different than what happened before, and he would go back to drinking and beating her. She thought she was above believing Dave''s lies now, but despite all that, there was still part of her that hoped this time was different. That hope set herself up with more potential heartache and disappointment, and she knew it. She dreaded the pain that would follow. She told herself that it wouldn''t be any different, but would still believe that it was. All this was causing her anguish at that moment. Eventually she would calm down enough and eventually go back to sleep. Fortunately in the coming days, the fears she felt then would never come to be. Dave really would never drink or hurt her again from this moment on. He would do everything he could and try to make it up to Lindsey for all the times he hurt her. It was like he was a new person. ?????????????????? Just after the conversation Lindsey had with Dave after waking up. In the hallway outside where Lindsey was, Dave and Tim were standing beside each other. Now out of sight of his mother, Tim was shaking a little bit. Tim: I-I d-did what you told m-me. he said with a clear tone of fear in his voice. Dave looked down at the boy with a smirk. He bent down onto one knee and put his hand on Tim''s little shoulder. The little boy''s posture stiffened when Dave did this. Dave?: That you did. And if you continue to keep our little secret, Ill keep up my end of the bargain. Tim: Y-Y-You said you w-wont hurt us. Dave?: That was part of the deal. He then got a little closer to Tim, causing the boy to close his eyes. Why so scared? I can assure you that Ill be a better father than your last one, he said with a smile. Tim made a nervous gulping sound and looked absolutely mortified. Tim: C-C-Can I-I-I go? he begged. Dave?: Of course, he said as he let go of Tim. Once Tim was free of Daves grip he ran off to his room, like an animal fleeing from a predator. Dave continued to smile as he just watched as the boy ran off. In the hallway, absent from anyone else, Dave stood there. There was a brief flash of orange light in his eyes. Dave?: Guess I have to go and figure out how to be a baker now. he said to himself. The person who people now called Dave proceeded to head downstairs. He would spend the rest of the day running the bakery, figuring out how to do so as he went. Chapter 29 - Counseling Curses are one of the oldest forms of magic. Used commonly in the old days as a form of retribution against others for real and perceived grievances. Its nature and design is to inflict various forms of torment on the target of the curse. This can take on the form of physical disfigurement or psychological anguish both caused by a curse. As cruel as this form of magic can be at times, its surprisingly not deadly. These curses are designed to torment people, not take their lives. As such, no matter how cruel and malevolent a curse may seem, it doesn''t kill people. This does not account for any psychological damage a curse may cause an individual, resulting in them taking their own life due to trauma. Curses come in two classes: petty and major. As the classification of petty would imply, this class of curse is more of an annoyance than an actual threat to a person''s well being. An example of this petty curse we see in modern days are prank curses, where you might see someone grow a cute pair of bunny ears, or their hair color changes to a humorous color. The major curses are much more serious and can carry very severe legal penalties. Often classified as a form of torture under many countries laws, these curses are utilized only as a way of inflecting both psychological and physical pain. A famous example of one of these types of curses being employed, was the frog curse of prince Lark of Gix. That curse turned prince Lark into a giant frog over the course of a few days. The process was incredibly painful for the prince and was said to be horrific to watch for the people that tended him during that time. In both cases of a petty or major curse, a specialist is often employed to remove these curses. These specialists are known as cursebreaker mages. Once these curses are removed, any form of physical disfiguration is immediately and completely reverted. The church of light is the largest organization that specializes in breaking curses. Many within their ranks are certified curse breakers. (Please refer to section E-27 for more details on the Church of Lights role in Curse Breaking) Study of the Dark Arts, 3141 Edition by Leonard Sol. It was just another boring day for John at the mystic emporium. He was currently sitting at his regular table at the back of the store. John was reading some manga from his original world he had manifested. Trying to fend off the monotony of his own existence that he has found himself in. John expected it to be another uneventful day, until he heard the sound of the door bell. His heart skipped a little in anticipation at the prospect of another customer today, but he continued to look down at his book pretending to be uninterested. John had read Counseling For Idiots recently. He did so in hopes that it would give some sort of technique to try and get his neighbor to open up to him. Hoping that if they did, he might be able to help out with Tim and his father''s relationship. The book had expressed that people needed to come feel comfortable before they were willing to open up. He was going to experiment with the person that walked in today, thinking that if he appeared more distant that it wouldn''t come across too overbearing, making this customer more comfortable and willing to open up. He felt that it might be a worthwhile try. After all, John saw himself as more of a weird counselor that was forced into the job from some horrifying existence. As almost everyone to date that came through that door had some sort of problem that hes, so far, been successful at talking people through. John could hear the footsteps of someone approaching until stopping just in front of him and called out. Cid: Good afternoon, Mr Li. John put his book down and looked up to see Cid in his green Shroom Pact uniform greeting him. John: Oh, if it isn''t Cid. What brought you here today? he said with a fake smile that hid his disappointment. John wanted an opportunity to try and test out some of the counseling techniques he just learned on someone new, so he was a little disappointed that he wouldn''t be able to since it was Cid that was visiting him today. Cid: Oh, I just thought I''d come say hi. Do you mind if I take a seat? he said while gesturing to one of the nearby empty chairs. John: Of course not. He grabbed a chair and sat himself across from John. John: So, what have you been up to? Cid: Well, since the time I met you three weeks ago, things have been going good. I got my finances sorted out, thanks to you and Ms Scarlett. John: Oh, that''s wonderful, he said, genuinely happy to hear about Cids improving situation. Cid: Yeah, I''m able to focus on my studies a lot more effectively. It was quite distracting with that financial burden weighing on me. John: I can imagine. So how are your studies going? Cid: Its been good, mostly. Um, I kinda wanted your advice on something. John: Well I got a lot of advice to give out, so shoot. Cid: Shoot? he said, not understanding Johns slang from his world. John: Oh, its an expression. Um, nevermind, just tell me what you need advice on. Cid: Well, you see. I''m having a problem withpests. John: Like an infestation? Cid: Yeah Cid was choosing his words very carefully. Scarlett had told him that John didnt respond to direct questioning. He originally thought that John was a little strange, but was still a normal shop keeper. However, the truth that the book he received from John said otherwise. Both Scarlett and the book also suggested that being vague and not trying to break John''s role as this shopkeeper was paramount. The consequences could be severe if he didnt keep pretending that John was an ordinary person. So he opted not to tell him directly about the people dying at the university. John had no idea that Cid was starting to behave like Scarlett, and was starting to attribute greater meaning behind his words than there really was. John: What kind of pest are you dealing with exactly? Cid: The kind thats really hard to kill, he said, unsure how to frame it in a way that was conducive with John''s ordinary shopkeeper role. A kind that is hard to kill? He must be talking about something like a cockroach. Yeah, he must be. Those suckers are really hard to kill. John thought to himself. John: So you have a cockroach problem. Cid was surprised by John''s response. He didnt feel that John was being coy with that comment. Cid thought that John was literally saying that the forces he was fighting were no more than cockroaches from Johns perspective. In the truth that John''s book showed him, Cid thought that it may very well be the case. The depths of Johns power were something Cid believed that he likely would never be able to fully comprehend. In the face of such power, we might all be like bugs to him. Cid thought with awe towards John. Cid: Yeah Do you have any advice on how to deal with them? John: Do you know where they''re coming from? Cid: I have a vague idea. I think with a little more time I''ll figure it out. John: Where do you specifically find them? Cid: They''re kinda all over the place. John: I''m sure there must be one place where they are particularly gathering. Cid: Hmm, you''re probably right. John: What you need to do is figure out where they are congregating, then lay some traps down there to get rid of them. If you''re lucky, the place they''re gathering might also be where they''re coming from. The only way you can really stop an infestation is by cutting it off at the source. So, you gotta figure out where they''re coming from and stop them there. Barring that, youll have to call in an expert. Call in an expert? He must be saying to ask Ms Scarlett for help. I would rather avoid that. The other option he mentioned was to figure out where they are meeting and lay a trap there. He thought to himself while misinterpreting John''s words. Cid: Isee. No, that makes perfect sense! That might actually work. Thank you for the advice, he said as thought of something. John: Youre welcome. Glad I could be of some help. I can get you some cockroach traps if you want. Cid: No, I think I already have everything I already need, he said while tapping the book he received from John hidden under his school robes. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. John: OK. If there is nothing else you need any help with, do you just want to shoot the shit. Cid: Why are we shooting poop? he said, clearly not understanding John''s phrase. John: No itsnevermind. Just tell me what youve been doing the last few weeks, he said as he pulled out some snacks and drinks from just out of view and placed them on the table. John and Cid would continue to converse for another three hours. Cid would later act on John''s advice and begin the process of laying down his trap. ?????????????????? Within the halls of the cathedral of light on the west side of Graheel. Everything had finally calmed down a bit. It had been two weeks since the funeral for the speaker of light. During that time, everything was hectic and everyone within the local clergy was running around to prepare funeral rites, and console people sadden by the Light speaker''s death. Now that the funeral was over, the amount of people visiting the church had returned to normal. It was quiet by comparison to two weeks ago. However, there was still some erratic energy going on within the former Hand of Lights office within the church. Crowley was sitting in his office behind his desk. The space was large with a few other desks off to the side for others to help him work through the church''s paperwork. The room was illuminated by giant windows. Across from where Crowley was sitting was the Smith family with their daughter. The parents were wearing formal suits and dresses, while their daughter was wearing all black with a leather jacket. Mr and Ms Smith had a mixed expression of a serious and worried look on their faces. The source of their distress was directed at their daughter. Smith''s Father: Please father Crowley. You have to do something to save our daughter''s soul! Smiths Mother: Where did we go wrong? she said with tears almost forming in her eyes. The daughter just crossed her arms and rolled her eyes at her parents'' remarks. Crowley sat there with his hands together with a fake smile. He was trying to hide his annoyance at the parents'' dramatic response. Crowley: Before anything else, I just want to apologize. I know you wanted my council for your daughter two weeks ago, but the tragic passing of Sheridan got in the way. I sincerely apologize. Smiths Mother: No we understand, his passing was truly a loss for us all. But I fear our little Emily will soon be lost to us as well. Crowley: Right, what exactly is the problem with your daughter, Emily? Smith''s Father: Im afraid she has been bewitched by a cult! Emily: Its not a cult, Dad! Smith''s Father: How can you say that? Look at what they did to you! Dressing in all black. How is that anything, but cultist behavior! Crowley: Please calm down Mr Smith, he said while gesturing to him. Crowley then turned his attention towards their daughter. Emily, would you care to explain from your perspective? Emily: My parents are freaking out over nothing. I just got into the music from a band called Thunder Strike, and now they think I''m joining a cult. Crowley: Oh, thats the new heavy metal band that has been growing in popularity. Smith''s Father: See, the influence of the nameless cults are growing in our fair city. They are bewitching the younglings with their evil music. Emily: Dad! Theyre not a cult! The parents started yelling at their daughter and she yelled back at them. They started to argue with each other for a few minutes, before Crowley found a moment to cut into their argument. Crowley: Ok, let us all calm down. There is no need to yell at each other in this holy place. Smiths Mother: Were sorry father Crowley, but please, you have to help save our daughter. Crowley: OK, Mr and Ms Smith, I must say it seems to me that you might be overreacting. I will admit that this new band''s music is unorthodox, but that doesn''t mean anything malicious or sinister. Smith''s Father: But she is wearing all black, the symbols of a cult. Crowley: Wearing black clothing is not wearing the symbol of a cult. Smith''s Father: B-b-but Crowley: The only thing that matters is that theres light in your heart. Remember what Sheridan preached about judging others by appearances. Just because your daughter is dressing a little differently and listening to different music, doesn''t mean she is becoming a cultist. She is just growing up and experiencing new things. Smiths Mother: But we dont want her to get hurt. Crowley raised an eyebrow. He was coming to realize what was really going on. Emily''s parents were probably anxious about her growing up. That anxiety was manifesting as a form of paranoia in the thing their daughter was starting to find interest in. Suspecting that, Crowley planned out his next course of action. Crowley: I think what you need to do is to give your daughter some space. Maybe even do a little research about the music your daughter is listening to. Who knows, maybe youll enjoy it too. Also, you should all read page 180 to 189 of the Light Text, and then pray on it for a week. I think that if you do that, the path going forward will be clearer. The Light Text was holy scripture that many of the followers of light carried on themselves, or stored in their homes. It contained the Lights religions teaching and stories for their followers to read. The pages that Crowley was telling the Smiths to specifically read was about growing up and letting children go out into the world. Both Ms and Mr Smith looked at each unsure. Sensing their apprehension, Crowley spoke up. Crowley: Tell you what. We can perform a special ritual here at the cathedral to help protect your daughter from the nameless cults'' influence. Ill even perform the ritual myself if you want me to. Smith''s Father: Thank you father Crowley! We knew we could count you! Crowley: Ok, ok. Calm down. Let us arrange a time and place for that ritual. The conversation between the Smiths and Crowley went on for another twenty minutes before. Eventually he managed to relieve some of the anxieties of the parents and create an appointment for the ritual in a few days. Once that was done, the Smiths would begin to vacate Crowley''s office. The Smith parents were the first to leave. They had a much calmer expression on their face than what it was when they came to the cathedral today. Their daughter was following behind them, but stopped at just the door and turned towards Crowley. Emily: Um, thank you father Crowley for talking to my parents. Crowley: You''re welcome Emily. Take care of your folks for me, he said with a smile. Emily nodded and continued on leaving. Once the door to his office was closed, Crowley collapsed and splayed out on his desk. He was tired. The funeral was two weeks ago and he should have recovered by now, but what Archbishop Beck had said was still hanging over Crowley. He was to destroy the Speaker decrees leftover by Light Speaker Sheridan. The same decrees that determined the policies of the church. His conscience told him to do what was right and send out the speaker''s decrees, but the rational side of his brain was saying destroy them. The inner turmoil was exhausting and stressing Crowley. On one hand, sending out the decrees had the potential to greatly improve conditions for the poor and mutants. On the other hand, there might not be any point to doing that if the decrees would get voted down by the clergy, and it would compromise the leadership position he currently had. Crowley still believed there was still a lot of good he could still do from where he was ranked in the church. His stress was further compounded by the fact there were a lot of unsent speaker decrees, all signed and ready to send out. Him and Sheridan had done that because they intended to slowly send the decrees out. They didnt want to cause too much friction in the church by making too many sweeping changes at once. Maybe it was a mistake to hold back so many decrees. We should have risked it and sent them all out at once. Then again, I didn''t think Sheridan would have passed so suddenly. Crowley was left at an impasse and had no idea how to proceed with the speaker decrees. He heard the door to his office begin to open. Hearing that, he picked himself off his desk and straightened his posture. It was an older nun that walked in with a stack of papers in her arms. She was wearing the white clothing of a nun of the Church of Light and had graying hair tied into a bun. She carried herself with a warm, but stern aura in her presentation. The woman was Dian, a nun of fifty years around the same age as Crowley. Once Crowley realized who it was, he relaxed. Him and Dian were good friends and he could be more informal around her. Crowley: Oh Dian, its you. For a moment, I thought the Smiths had come back for something. Dian: Nope, its just me. So, feel free to take a nap at your desk if you want. Ill wake you when you''re needed, she said, as she walked over to a nearby work desk and set the papers down. Crowley: Im not going to do that. Dian: Really? Because you look like you''re going to collapse on me, she said playfully. Crowley: Is it really that obvious? he said while grumbling a little Dian: No. You hide it really well. I just have a bit more intuition than the other sisters. Crowley: A womans intuition, huh. Dian: No, its Dian''s intuition. Much better than a woman''s intuition, she said as she took a seat at the work desk and was about to prepare to work through the paper she brought in. Crowley: Um, Dian. Can I ask you for some advice? Dian: Of course, she said as she turned her body and chair to face Crowley. Crowley: Hypothetically, if you were presented two options where the one option had the chance to do great good, while the other option you know would only do some good. Which would you choose? Dian: Hmm, what is this about? Crowley: Im afraid I can''t say. Dian: Oh, OK. Is this one of those situations where someone from our church confided something troubling to you. Every once in a while, Crowley would have private meetings with members of his congregation, and they would sometimes confide in him their problems. There was one time that someone confided something very serious to him and wanted advice. He didnt have a clear answer for this person at the time and asked Dian for advice in an indirect manner. Dian being Dian, was able to work out what Crowley was asking without exactly knowing what was going on in that situation and helped him out. She was assuming that this was a similar situation. Crowley: Yeah he said, not wanting to tell her about the issue he was facing with the speaker''s decrees. Dian: Well, I know you want to respect personal privacy, but you''re going to have to be a little more specific. You''re being even more vague than you have in the past. Crowley: Right, sorry. Its hard to say. Um, let me use an analogy, he said before briefly pausing to think before he began speaking again. If you''re a leader of a country, do you push to make major reforms that fix the problems of your country, or do you not rock the boat and only make little reforms? The logic being that if you make major reform you run the risk of losing your leadership position and the reforms you pushed being undone. Whereas, if you didnt make massive reforms, you would keep your position and might be able to make some positive changes. Dian: No offense father. Comparing personal issues to matters of governance and state come off as a bit extreme to me. Crowley: Sorry, I couldn''t think of a better hypothetical. Dian: Honestly, I wouldn''t know what to do in such a situation. Without knowing what exactly you''re talking about, I would have to weigh what was needed. Is it major changes that are needed, or would small changes be good enough? Crowley: What do you do if you think its big changes you need? Dian: Then make big changes. Crowley: In that hypothetical I presented, there were risks associated with making big changes. Dian: You and I know that there is risk in everything we do, but that doesn''t stop us. We still push forward and pursue what we believe to be right, despite the risk. After all, isn''t that what faith is? Crowley: Hmm, that is a good point. Thanks Dian. Youve given me something to think about. Dian nodded and went back to doing her paperwork. Crowley continued to think on what he should do for another twenty minutes before going back to his usual day to day affairs. Chapter 30 - His name is… More than one and always two Forever more beyond your view Cometh summer to winters breath Celebrate life to fear coming death Blacken lands of soot and fire Tell of ancient stories prior Misty future, forgotten past Eternity that never last Cold chill to the warm embrace Bring forth life and divine grace What is life will one day lie On that day one will cry Chant of dancing liars bones Deep beneath the dirt and stones Corrupted words lead to sin Change everything that has always been Forbidden Secrets in the dark Desire more two will embark What is death cannot die Hope or Doom is always nigh Must be two like sun and moon Less than two is to be out of tune Sing they will of forgotten age The story of the final page Kindness of death and cruelty of life Covered eyes to back with knife Sadness come to carry on One will now carry dawn Always more than one Now less than two Ancient Giants Poem The Sisters Two weeks had passed since Jafar made the discovery of chemicals in people''s blood. During the afternoon, In one of the study rooms in the library at Graheel university, was Alan and his two friends Jafar and Sere sitting around a table. Jafar was on the one available computer in this room while Sere was going through stacks of books. Alan was looking off into space with a dead look in his eyes. Alan: Im so fucked. Today was the final day of exams. Alan had just finished writing his exam a few hours ago and was in a complete state of dread over it. He felt that he bombed on that last written test he did. Jafar: Well, maybe you should have studied more, he said while he was typing away at the computer. Alan: It was that damn class on giants. Like, really. When are we ever going to need to know weird ancient giant poems? Jafar: Giants are a very old and powerful race. They still live on this continent too. So, I can see the importance of learning about them a little. Alan: But why their poetry? Like that strange poem The Sisters, the one doesn''t rhyme well. Jafar: Actually, as I understand. It supposedly rhymes really well in the original language of the giants. Alan: Whatever. I still hate that it came up on my test. Like, one of my questions was to describe the meaning of that poem, but I thought poetry was subjective. So, how am I supposed to know the meaning of it? Jafar: That poem was about duality and impermanence. Its kinda obvious. Alan: Then why call it The Sisters Jafar: Huh? Alan: If its really about duality, wouldn''t it make more sense to name the poem something like, The Siblings. A brother and a sister make more sense about duality than sisters. Also, there is nothing resembling anything like a sister in that poem. Jafar: I dont know, man. Giants are cryptic and weird. Also, that is something you should know, not me, he said in an accusatory way directed at Alan. Im not the one that had to write an exam on giants. Sere: Are you two going to help me? I know both of you have already written your last exam, but I haven''t. I only have three more hours to study before I have to go write mine, she said, slightly annoyed by her friend''s banter. Alan: Sorry, Sere. You''re right. Pass me one of those books and I''ll grill you with some questions to help you prepare. Sere: Are you going to help, Jafar? she said, as she passed a book to Alan. Jafar: Ill help after I finish what I''m doing, he said while typing away on the computer mounted on the table. Sere: What could you possibly be looking up on that computer? You already wrote all your exams. Jafar I''m going through the student registry. Sere: Why? Jafar I needed a computer that had direct access to the university network to access the registry. Sere: No, I mean why are you looking through the student registry. Jafar I''m trying to see if I can find that guy Alan suspects is murdering people. The registry has a picture of every student here at the university. Alan: Huh? You were the most dismissive when I first brought that guy to your attention. Jafar: That was before the formaldehyde situation, and everything else. I was wrong and you were right. Alan: Come again? he said In absolute shock. Alan wasn''t used to Jafar admitting he was wrong, but especially not him admitting that Alan was right over him. Alan knew Jafar was very intelligent and often deferred to his friend''s opinion on most academic matters. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Jafar: I said I''m wrong and you were right. It didnt stop at Edward or the Gilded Sun like you said. Since Edward''s death, there have been four more accidental deaths bringing the body count total to five. Of the four additional people to die, only one of them belonged to the Gilded Sun. The other three were a Grayscale student, a Lionheart student, and a Silverwing student that fell in front of Seres'' friend. While Alan and his friends were studying for their exams, more deaths had occurred. The many mysterious deaths were starting to cause problems for the university. Worry was starting to develop amongst the students and some were even starting to wonder if all these deaths were accidents. Too many people were randomly dying. Sere: Even if Alan is right, why are you searching for this guy? You said it yourself, we cant do anything even if we know what''s going on. Jafar: When I said that, I thought it was possibly noble families infighting with each other. Maybe someone in those rich families paid to have some noble family son killed, or something like that. But, now I think its much more serious than that. Sere: Would a noble family really do that? Jafar: Oh yeah. There are stories of noble families in the past wiping out nations because they felt slighted. Sere: That kind of stuff happened like a thousand years ago. Im not sure how relevant that is nowadays. Jafar: Regardless of what I thought it was then, it doesn''t matter now. No one in charge is doing anything about what is going on. You have professors like Black and Patariki trying to cover things up from fear of scandal, instead of properly looking into this. Then you got the police and enforcers sitting around doing nothing. Dont you want to do something about this, Alan? Alan: I mean, yeah, but what are we supposed to do? Jafar: We gotta find proof. Thats the only way. Then we gotta bring it to someone like Headmistress Jenna or the police. Maybe we even bring it to Edwards brother Johannes at the Arcane Eye college. Sere: Why Headmistress Jenna? Alan: Also, who is that again? And why would we bring it to Edward''s brother? Jafar: She is the dean of the Gilded Sun college. The one who is in charge of that college faculty members and professors. She sits on the university board and holds the most authority at the university along with the six other headmasters. She seems to be the only one doing anything. She was the one that tried to get Professor Patariki to do an autopsy on Edwards body. Also Edwards'' brother, Johannes Scefer, is a famous honor student in the Arcane Eye college and would have some pull, he could possibly do something with enough proof. Alan: Huh, OK. I guess that makes sense. Sere: Wait a minute, I thought that you didnt like the Gilded Sun, and now you want to go to their headmaster for help. Jafar: Whether I like them or not doesn''t matter, as long as we can stop this murderer. Alan: Ok... So, hows that search through the registry going? he said, trying to change the topic. Jafar: Not great. The guy I''m looking for had the uniform of the Shroom Pact student. I''m looking at the student registry of that college. Unfortunately, Shroom Pact has the largest number of students, so its difficult to find this guy in the registry when I don''t know his name. Sere: Oh, wow. How many students are in that college? Jafar: I believe there are at least 55,000 active students. Sere: Jafar, that''s going to take you forever! Jafar: I know, but I have to do it for you, he mumbled. Sere: Me? What are you talking about? I didnt ask you to do this. Jafar: No, I mean let me explain. he stopped typing away from the computer and turned to Sere. I looked into the background of the people killed, trying to find if any of them were connected to each other. I didnt find any clear connection between them, but I did find something else. Both Alan and Sere stopped what they were doing and focused their attention on what Jafar was about to say. The atmosphere around Jafar turning a little more serious. Jafar: Every person that has died had some sort of connection to a person of influence. The Gilded Sun students that died were obviously connected to powerful noble families. Then there was the Grayscale student they found dead, his father was a supreme court judge here in Golgotta, then the Lionheart student was someone sponsored by a famous military general, and finally the silverwing student that died was the niece of an Archbishop. These were all students that were all somehow related to powerful people. Sere: Ok, but what does that have to do with she stopped mid sentence as she realized something with a shocked expression. Jafar: Yeah, your uncle is the chief of police here in Graheel. Sere Lockheart was the niece of Murdock Lockheart. He was the head chief of the police department, and a man of some fame around Graheel. Murdock had risen into his position as the police chief after the previous chief was murdered during the Bloody Days event. Once he took the position, he greatly de-escalated the situation and ended the Bloody Days almost single-handedly. This gave him a large degree of respect and authority in some circles around the city. He would definitely be considered as a person of influence like Jafar was saying. Alan: Wait, do you really think Sere will be the next target? All cause of her uncle. Jafar: I dont know. The only connection I could find between them all was the fact they all knew someone influential. Thats why I''m worried about Sere with her uncle. Sere, you''re one of my best friends. I..I dont want anything to happen to you. Alan: Dont worry were not gonna let anything happen to her. Jafar: Right, thats why we need to do something. We need to find evidence and stop this guy. Sere: Whoa whoa, calm down there boys. Im not a helpless maiden. I can look after myself and dont need protection. Alan: I know you''re not helpless. Just want to look out for you. Also, no one would ever mistake you for a maiden. There was a painful pause in the air after Alan said that. Sere, with a smile that hid her anger, slowly picked up one of the thicker books in front of her. In one quick motion, so fast that one might miss it if they blink, she threw the book square at Alan''s forehead with a loud smack. Alan: Ahhg! He yelled out while grabbing his forehead as the book bounced off it. T-this is what I''m talking about! A maiden wouldnt be so violent! Sere: CAN IT! she said sternly, with a death stare that could scare a ghost. Or, I can beat your ass like I did when we were kids. she said angrily. When they were younger, Sere would do practice fights with Alan and he would get pummeled by her. It was way worse and more brutal for Alan back then, even compared to Criss sparring matches he currently did. Despite Seres petite stature and seemingly welcoming nature to those who didnt know her, she could become quite violent and brutish when she was mad. She was also a competent fighter due to the training she received from her family. Many members of the Lockheart family go into law enforcement or military, so children of this family are trained in combat magic, regardless if they actually do decide to go into law enforcement and become white mages. Even though Sere went into a college that wasn''t combat oriented, she was still far stronger than Alan in a fight, and had the greatest aether control out the people here. She was able to reinforce her physical abilities with aether in less than a second, and then throw that book accurately at Alan''s forehead with enough force to leave a clear book shaped dent on him. If Sere wanted to, she would have made an excellent white mage. Alan: S-sorry, he said, while looking away from Sere, frightened. Sere took a deep breath. She reeled back her fury, before turning her attention back to Jafar. Sere: Is that really the only connection you could find? What about that formaldehyde thing? Jafar: We only know about the two people that had formaldehyde in them when they were found dead. I couldnt gain access to blood samples of any of the other people that died recently. And, even if I knew for sure they all had formaldehyde in them, I wouldn''t even know what to do with that information. he said as went back to the computer he was working on. Sere: Could there be some sort of creature that can mimic people''s appearance and has formaldehyde in its blood? Jafar: That seems unlikely. I dont think a creature like that exists, and if it did, it would be in the Wildlands far away from here, he said while typing away. Sere: But finding embalming chemicals in people like that isnt normal. It has to mean something. Jafar: I agree with you, but I don''t know what it could mean. Those people were walking around with no sign of that chemical in their blood. If that guy Alan saw was poisoning people with formaldehyde to kill them, then why go out your way to murder them with a planned accident. Sere: Also, not to burst your bubble. But, do we really know that this guy is in the Shroom Pact college? He might not even be a student here and is just disguised as one. Jafar: Ihad not considered that, he said, briefly pausing in thought before going back to typing on the computer. Sere: Then you might really be wasting your time right now. Alan: I think there is also something else you guys are missing. What were these people like when they were alive? As we all know, Edward was an ass. The Lionheart student that died, I knew him, and he was also an asshole. He would pick fights with first years and bullied some of the Shroom Pact students until some of the seniors put a stop to it. Sere: Now that you mention it. The Silverwing student that died was also kind of a bitch. I had one interaction with her and she was so stuck up. Jafar: Why does that matter? Alan: Im just guessing that it could be a motivation. Sere: You think someone is taking these people out because theyre mean? Alan: I dont know, maybe? Jafar: Hmm, it feels too simple to me. I think a better motivation is Jafar cut himself off and immediately stopped typing on the computer, backing away from it in surprise. Holy shit! Thats him! he said while pointing at the computer monitor. Upon hearing that both Alan and Sere moved beside Jafar, to see what he was talking about. Sure enough, on the monitor was the picture of the person Alan had pointed out in the newspaper awhile ago. The person that Alan thinks is the one who was murdering people. Alan: Oh, yeah! That''s definitely him! Sere: Well I''ll be, he really was a student here. Jafar: Hes a senior student of the Shroom Pact college here at the university. It says here, he has residence at the Shroom Pact dorms. Alan: Whoa, really. Does it say which dorm hes in? Jafar: No, but that still makes it easier to find him. We can ask around the Shroom Pact dorms to figure out where hes staying and learn a bit more about him. We just gotta figure out how hes doing these murders and we might be able to stop him. Alan looked intensely at the picture of the person he saw before the state almost fell on Edward. His eyes then wandered to the name of the person in the picture. Cid Cook, so thats the name of the person I saw that day. Alan thought to himself. Chapter 31 - Set for Success Markus Rivet, also known as Markus the brave in his homeland, was a war mage of antiquity. Famed for the battles he would engage against the Gix empire of old. He fought for his country of Rivia before it eventually fell and became a vassal state of the empire. Upon the fall of his country, he would flee and become a wandering mercenary outside the Gix empire. His nickname was the noble mercenary at the time. It should be noted that even at this time, mercenaries were still not well respected. But despite that, Markus Rivet himself was still well respected by many people. He was knighted in the kingdom of Rivia and upheld the honor code of a knight even after the fall of his homeland. Knights of Rivia were expected to embody bravery, honor, and fairness. His magic was said to be so devastating on the battlefield, his enemies called him a literal one man army. He could weave massive firestorms and devastate the battlefield beyond what anyone could imagine. The scale of magic he could cast was so grand that he would be recognized as an unofficial archmage by many mages for years. Markus eventually met Cain Mired and was convinced to join in the creation of Graheel university. He gave up the life of a wandering mercenary and dedicated the rest of his life teaching students in the way of combat magic. The Lionheart college was formed in honor of Markus. A college dedicated to training mages in combat magic with a golden lion, which was once the symbol of Rivia, incorporated into the sigil of this college. Students attending this college are expected to attempt to embody the values of bravery, honor, and fairness. The same as Markus once did while he was alive. Markus was only recognized as an archmage after his death, and is still hailed as one of the archmages with the most destructive magic in recorded history of the western continent. Writing of Archmage Setta on The Founding of Graheel and its University A few hours had passed since Alan and his friends had discovered the identity of the person that might be causing the strange accidents. Cid Cook from the Shroom Pact college was the main suspect for Alan and his friends. Now that they knew who this person was, they knew where to start looking for useful information about him. But, that was something Alan and his friends would do later. Alan and Jafar were sitting at a table in Bennys Diner. Sere went to write her test while Alan and Jafar went for their outing. Today was the day Alan was going to have a guys night with his friends. Jafar: Whats taking Cris so long? It was his idea to grab a bite to eat here before we head out to the bars. Alan had taken Jafars advice and planned an outing with his friends. Him, Jafar, and Cris were all supposed to go bar hopping and then maybe even to one of the strip clubs in the east end. But, Cris said he wanted a bite to eat before they did that and suggested this diner. Both Alan and Jaffar were waiting for Cris. Alan: Hell be here soon. He said he had to talk to someone a bit before he could come. Jafar: Ugh, it was his idea to eat here. Alan: Hey, the food here at Bennys is still pretty good. Alan was speaking from experience. Sometimes him and Cris would come here to grab a bite to eat after combat practice. Jafar: I guess you are right. Anyways, did Cris say how he did on those exams? I havent asked him about it. Alan: What do you think? Jafar: He passed with flying colors? Alan: Yup, he said he got perfect on every test, even the written ones. Jafar: I expected him to do well, but did he really get perfect on every test? Alan: Thats what he said. I was surprised he did so well on the written stuff. All I ever see him do is physical training. I dont know where he found the time to read up on the theoretical stuff. Jafar: Hmm. Jafar was about to say something before his thoughts were interrupted by a boisterous, but familiar, voice. Cris: Hey guys! Sorry I''m late," he said as he approached the table Alan and Jafar were sitting at. Jafar: About time, I thought youd never show up. Cris: Hahaha. Again, sorry about that, he then waved his hand over to the waitress that was a mutant with cat-like eyes. Hey Jenny, we''re gonna get three golden platters, he said before taking a seat at the table with Alan and Jafar. Jenny: Ok, Chris, she said with a smile before heading off to the kitchen with the order. The staff was quite familiar with Cris and Alan. They were regulars here. Alan: Whoa, hey! Thats the most expensive thing on the menu! Cris: Dont worry. This is all on me, he said with a smile. Jafar: Whats the occasion? Cris: The fact were done exams, duh. And also maybe something else. Alan: Ok. Stop beating around the bush and just say it. I can clearly see you want to brag about how well you did on the exams. Cris: I would never. Im the most humble person around he said sarcastically. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. Alan: Yeah right. You definitely would brag about it, he said while chuckling a little. Cris laughed along with Alan a little. Cris: Anyways, thats actually not it. The thing is, I might actually be accepted into the Arcane Eye college. Both Jafar and Alan had a genuine look of shock on their face from what Cris just said. Of the seven colleges of Graheel University, the Arcane Eye college was the most difficult one to get accepted into. It was the most famous of all the colleges. It was the college that focused on pure talent and ability in magic, and has produced no end of exceptional mages that have gone on to be great figures throughout history. Even just attending this college was enough to land you an extremely well paying job, whether you successfully graduate from there or not. Hearing that Cris had managed to make it into such a prestigious and difficult college was truly impressive to both Jafar and Alan. Jafar: That''s amazing, he said with a degree of awe. Alan: Yeah! Congratulations, Cris! he said, genuinely happy for his friend. Cris: Aww, thanks guys, he said while blushing and rubbing his hand on the back of his head. Jafar: So that means you''re going to be an Arcane Eye student next semester. Cris: Well, not yet. I was told I still need to go through the interview process before I become a full student at that college, but professor Black said that my chances still look very good and will probably be admitted. Jafar: Was it professor Sorin Black that told you about you getting into the Arcane Eye? Cris: Yeah. Alan: Huh? I wouldve thought that it would have been a teacher at the Arcane Eye college that would tell you. Not a teacher for the grayscale college. Cris: Well they all work for the same university, and he was just the messenger. Im sure I''ll be interviewed by someone from that college. Maybe, it will be the headmaster of the Arcane Eye college, Lazarus Vaal himself. Jafar: Ohh. Youll get to meet that famous person. Anyone who was the dean of the Arcane Eye college would be famous, but Lazarus Vaal was a person of particular fame. He was hailed as the most powerful Archmage of this generation. All archmages that exist throughout the continent are exceptionally powerful, but he would stand at the top if all archmages were to measure their power. Alan: Well now we have extra reason to celebrate, he joyfully said. Before anything else could be said, Jenny, the cat eye mutant waitress, came over to their table with three giant golden plates on a tray. She had to put the tray down on a nearby table before she could lift each plate and place them in front of the university students. Each plate of food contained: two eggs, home fries, a few strips of bacon, two pieces of toast cut down the middle diagonally, and a cup of black tea, tomahawk steak, three different kinds of sausages, pancakes, golden hash browns, an egg benedict, something resembling peameal bacon, smoked fish, and some roasted vegetables on the side. It was an extremely large amount of food. Jafar: Holy shit! Thats a lot of food! Alan: Um, could I get some cream for my tea? he said, directed at the waitress. Jenny: Sure thing, hun, she said, as she walked off to grab some cream for Alan. Cris: Well, make sure to eat up! It will make the hangover the next day a lot easier with food in the stomach. Jafar: I wasn''t planning to get wastedat least not that much, he said as he started to eat. They all ate as much of the meal as they could before they went out bar hopping. Much later, after becoming somewhat intoxicated, they even went to a strip club in the Red-light district and had a great time. ?????????????????? Later on the same day late in the evening. It was one hour before midnight within the university, all was almost quiet. The exception being a lone figure in the green student robes of the Shroom Pact college. It was Cid. Cid was walking alone down a dark hallway towards the library. His steps echoed through a short distance within the hallway. He arrived at a door that should have been locked, leading into the library. With a simple push, he opened the door and headed inside. Cid had jammed one of the library''s door''s locking mechanisms with chewing gum earlier, preventing it from automatically locking itself at nine oclock. He made his way through the entryway and then slowly walked along the rows of bookshelves, before eventually walking into one of the aisle. Cid went down the aisle that contained books on world history. The books were arranged by name in alphabetical order, and he stopped just before the E section of the aisle. He looked up and down one of the shelves until he found the book he was looking for. He then reached out and pulled out the book he wanted, but then stopped halfway before it was off the shelf. He then let go of the book and left it there to stick out of the row of books like a sore thumb, before walking off somewhere else. Cid kept walking down the aisle until he came across a group of tables for students to sit and work at. There was a pencil on one of the tables. Cid reached out and rotated the pencil around until the head of it was facing north. He continued to do these series of strange, but oddly specific actions throughout the library. Some of the things he did was moving books in a specific position, placing paper in between books on the shelves, and putting chairs on tables, moving various pieces of furniture slightly. Eventually he stopped his strange behavior and pulled out the book he received from John. The book he now carried didnt truly have a name, but he decided to call it the Book Of Grand Design, as its nature was such. He then opened the leather bound obsidian black cover of the book and flipped through the pages. He eventually found the page he was looking for. The writing on the page was alien in design and illegible to everyone, except for Cid. Eyes traced over the eldritch language of the book with comprehension of the secrets it was communicating to him. Cid: Hmm, something is still off i see. I think the problem is coming from that direction, he said while looking eastwards. He then slowly made his way in that direction until he could go no further and came to a series of study rooms. He pondered something for a brief minute before proceeding to check each room. One by one, he opened the door to the study rooms and checked inside each one. Every room was empty and had had nothing of interest, until he checked the last study room. Inside the study was a single computer on one end of a large table like the other rooms, but unlike the other rooms there were stacks of books left all over the table. Someone had clearly forgotten to clean up after using it. Cid proceeded inside the study and examined the books all laid out on the table. From a quick glance, Cid could tell that these were all library books related to symbology. They were the kind of books that a first year student might use to study for a test. Mixed in with all the books was a notebook. Picking up the notebook, he flipped through it quickly while examining the contents. Inside the notebook contained more handwritten notes on symbology. It was obviously study notes of a student who had accidentally left it here. He then looked at the cover and could see that someone had put their name on it: Sere Lockheart. Upon seeing that name, Cid''s expression shifted to that of annoyance and slight anger. He then violently ripped the book apart and threw the torn pages all over the room. He then pulled out The Book Of Grand Design and flipped back to the page he was reading before. He gave it another read before putting the book away. Cid: Soon my trap will be set, and I''ll rid myself and Mr Li of these pests, he said as he quietly left the library. Chapter 32 - Bad Start Eleven years ago, Alan as a child was being picked on by a group of boys on the playground of a school. The boys were physically pushing him around laughing at him. Alan: S-stop it! Bully: Whats a little baby from Gix gonna do about it? the child said, before pushing him down onto the ground. Alan fell and was now laying on the ground and eyes closed and his arm protecting his head. He was expecting to be kicked by one of the other boys. Alan hated this. It had only been a week since he and his parents were forced to move to Graheel, due to the civil war in Gix, and he was already being picked on. When Alan first started attending school, he did his best to fit in and not stand out to avoid bullying. Unfortunately, he had an accent from living in the Gix empire, and this small thing about Alan was enough for him to be singled out and picked on by the other boys at school. One of the boys was about to kick Alan while he was on the ground, until a ball came flying at his head, hard. The young boy was knocked off balanced and nearly fell. He was holding his head in pain from where the ball had impacted, looking around to see where that ball came from. Bully: Who did that! he yelled out, turning around to see who it was. His angry expression turned to fear as he saw the person who threw the ball at him. Oh, no! Its Sere! Everybody run! Coming out of nowhere, little Sere came running at the group of boys with her small hands swinging and her long silver hair flowing behind her. The other kids were scared of Sere. She was a Lockheart and that family had a certain reputation amongst the community, which trickled down to the local kids and was distorted. Lockhearts had a reputation of working either for law enforcement or the military. This for some reason translated to the kids at school thinking that the Lockhearts were all monsters. The boys surrounding Alan scattered like bugs as Sere approached. Once she saw that the other kids who were beating up on Alan were gone, she slowed down to a walk while continuing towards Alan. Sere: Hey are you OK? she said, as she stopped in front of Alan and reached her hand out to help him up. Alan, who was still curled up into the fetal position, looked up to see Sere reaching her hand out to help him up. He hesitated for a second, but reached out his hand to her and pulled himself up. Alan: T-thank you. I-im fine, he said while standing up. Alan was also a little afraid of Sere. He had heard the same rumors that the other kids had said, that she was a monster. But looking at her, he wasn''t so sure what the other kids meant by that. She just looked like a normal silver-haired girl to him. Sere: That''s good. So, um. I noticed that youre new here and probably dont know anyone. So, you wanna be friends? Alan: Y-you wanna be my friend? he said, surprised by what she was asking him. Sere: Yeah. she responded with a smile. Alan: Oh, um. Ok before he could say anything else, Sere grabbed his hand. Sere: That''s great! Let me introduce you to my other friend, Jafar. she said, while pulling Alan along. Alan: Wha? was all he could mumble as he was dragged along by Sere. This was the day Alan first met Sere and Jafar. Ever since then, they had become his best friends in Graheel. ?????????????????? In the present day. It was the morning after Alan had gone out drinking with his buddies. Him and Jafar were sitting on a bench just outside one of the Shroom Pact dorms.
Both of them looked terrible. They had massive bags under their eyes and were holding their heads down. They would both reel away from any source of bright light. Anyone that looked at them could tell they were in the middle of recovering from a hangover. Jafar: Ahhh, my head is throbbing so much, he whined. Alan: Tell me about it. I dont even remember much after the fifth bar we went to. Jafar: Yeah, it all went downhill after I ordered that red drink. What was it called? The killshot? Alan: That was like one of the first drinks you ordered. And, what did you expect from something called the killshot. Jafar: One of you guys dared me to drink that. Alan: No one dared you. Jafar: Are you sure? Ugh, whatever. Trying to remember stuff hurts too much right now, he said while rubbing his eyes. Alan: Gaaaah, if I knew if it was going to be like this, I wouldn''t have challenged Cris to that drinking contest yesterday. Jafar: Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. So, did you at least win? Alan: No. Cris is a freak. He drank me under the table. Jafar: Whoa, really. Thats surprising. You''re way bigger than most people. He said while looking up to Alan. I thought that would have given you an advantage. Alan stood at over 6 and a half feet (2 meters) tall. He had a half foot height advantage over Cris. Bigger people can drink more liquor before it affects them. So both Alan and Jafar thought he would have a massive advantage in a drinking contest against someone like Cris. But, Alan still ended up losing. Alan: I swear he used enhancement magic on his liver or something. Jafar: Is that a thing? he said, curious to know if someone could cast enhancement magic on their organs. Alan: I dont know. I just know that at the end, he was the only one not wasted. Jafar: Really? Alan: Yup. After a dozen shots he wasn''t fazed. He was the only one not out of it and helped get us both home. He even helped carry you home after you fell asleep. Jafar: So that was a dream. I thought it was a big beautiful muscular lady that carried me home he said disappointingly. Alan: Huh? he mumbled, confused at what Jafar just said. Jafar: N-nothing! H-head hurts. Cant talk, he said in a panic. Both of them continued to sit there and groaned about the pain in their heads for a few more minutes before Sere showed up. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Sere: Hey guys! You feeling better yet! she yelled out. Both Jafar and Alan clench their teeth and cover their ears. Sere''s voice pierced through their head and caused them agonizing pain. Jafar: Agh, you dont need to yell. Sere: Well thats your punishment for not inviting me out last night. Sere originally didnt know about the outing that Jafar and Alan did last night. She only found out by seeing her friends in this pitiful state when they met in the morning. Alan: It was just a guys night out. You wouldnt have liked it. Sere: You dont know that. Alan: Whatever, we can go do something together on the weekend. So please stop yelling. Sere: OK, but you guys picked the worst time to go out drinking. Today Alan and his group of friends were supposed to ask around the Shroom Pact dorm about Cid. They planned to do this today after Jafar discovered Cids identity yesterday. They wanted to know exactly what dorm he was in and the kind of people he was associating with. Unfortunately, Alan and Jafar had not been very helpful in this investigation. They were too fixated on their hangovers to help Sere ask around. So, she was forced to go into the dorm herself and ask around while Alan and Jafar quietly sat outside by themselves. Alan: Sorry about making you ask around by yourself. We planned this outing ahead of time before Jafar found out about this guy. Sere: Thats ok, she said with a sigh. With the way you guys look, you probably would scare away the people you were supposed to question. Alan: Do we really look that bad? Sere: Yup. By the way, werent you supposed to ask if Cris would help us out? Or, is he too hungover to help either? Alan: I did, but he had to go see professor Black this morning. Something to do with his admission into the Arcane Eye college. Sere: He got into the Arcane Eye college! she yelled out in surprise. Jafar: Please dont yell, he said in pain from Seres yelling. Sere: Im going to yell all I want, cause I''m extra pissed now that you didnt invite me out yesterday. I didnt get to hear about Criss admission and celebrate with everyone. Alan: Again, well do something this weekend. Ill even invite Cris too, so you can celebrate his admission. Anyways, did you find out anything about Cid? Sere: Yeah. I know what apartment hes in. Jafar: You already found that out? You were gone for like twenty minutes, how do you know what apartment hes in already? Sere: I guess I''m that good. Anyways, I don''t think Cid is in his apartment right now. From what I heard about him from another Shroom Pact student, he pretty much spends most of his time in the library lately. Alan: Even now? Exams are over, so whys he still going to the library? Sere: He could be writing a thesis for all we know. Your guess is as good as mine. But, the main point is that hes not in his apartment right now. So, we could use this as an opportunity to sneak in and look for clues. Alan: That sounds like a plan. Sere: Theres just one problem. Jafar: He has a roommate, doesn''t he? he said, already surmising the issue they might be facing. Sere: Typical Jafar. Already ahead of the game. Yeah, he has a roommate. I dont know if his roommate is currently in right now, but if they are, thats going to cause some problems. Jafar: Well have to wait until they are both out of their apartment. Alan: Actually, I have another idea. If his roommate is still in, me and Sere can distract him while Jafar sneaks in. Jafar: What?! Why do we gotta do that? Alan: Look, we gotta find evidence sooner rather than later. The longer this guy is free to roam around, the more people hes going to kill. Jafar: Ugh, but whys it gotta be me to sneak in? Upon hearing that, Alan made a wide motion with his arms. The uniform he was wearing had armor plating in it. So as he moved his arms, it made a bit of noise from the metal in his clothing rubbing against each other. Jafar: OK, point taken. Youre not stealthy, but what about Sere? Sere: You think you can hold a conversation down with his roommate the way you are now? she said, while focusing on the bag under Jafars eyes. Jafar: Why are we having a conversation with his roommate? Sere: How else do you think were going to distract him? Jafar: Ughhhh, fine he said, finally admitting defeat. Alan: Dont whine. If we''re lucky, his roommate wont be home either. Alan and his friends made their way through the Shroom Pact dorm and up an elevator to where Cids apartment was. ?????????????????? Alan and his friends exited an elevator onto the 4th floor of one of the Shroom Pact dorms. The guys in the group were following behind Sere, as she led them down the hallway to their destination. They passed by a number of apartment doors on their right side, before they eventually arrived in front of the door to Cids apartment. Alan: Ok, before we knock,he said as he made a hand gesture directed at Jafar. Aether gathered in Alan''s hand and then was released as he cast a spell. Jafar then felt something like a gust of wind below him, and then he felt a little lighter all of a sudden. Jafar: Whoa, what was that? Alan: That was a type of enhancement magic for combat that improves your physical speed. But more importantly, I infused that magic with the air element, making you lighter as well. That should make it a little easier for you to sneak around. Jafar: Oh, OK. Yeah, thats a good idea. Hey Sere, do you have anything that could help me as well? Sere: Umm, nothing I can think of. But if you hurt yourself, I can patch you up, she said while smiling innocently. Jafar: Yeeeeah, I''m not planning to get hurt anytime soon. Alan: Ok, heres what we''re going to do. You go around the corner and hide, he said while pointing at Jafar. Ill make sure the door is unlocked to allow you to get in. Then you quietly sneak in while we distract whoever Cid is sharing the apartment with. Jafar: Ok, but what if no ones in the apartment? Alan: Then we try and figure out how to get in without breaking the door. Jafar: Ok, got it. Oh, one more thing. How long will this enhancement magic you cast on me last? Alan: Itll last as long as I keep supplying aether for it, or you get too far away from me. OK, if theres nothing else, lets do this. Jafar nodded before he quickly, and quietly due to magic affecting him, hid behind a corner in the hallway they were in. Once they couldnt see Jafar, Sere and Alan approached the apartment door and knocked. They waited for a little while, but there was no reaction. For a moment, both Sere and Alan thought that there was no one in the apartment, but then the door slowly opened. Standing in the doorway was a young looking male student in casual clothing of a t-shirt and pants. He had messy brown hair and looked like he just woke up recently. His overall appearance didnt make him stand out much. Cids Roommate: Um, hello? Sere stepped in front of Alan and took the lead on the conversation. Sere: Hello, is Cid in? she said while smiling and trying to act as pleasant as possible. Cids Roommate: Oh, um. No. Hes not in. Um, who are you? Sere: We''re friends of Cid. We came by to check up on him. Cids Roommate: Cid has friends? he said, surprised by Seres comment. Sere: Yeah, were worried about him. Hes been acting strange around us, she said, while continuing to act like a concerned friend. Cids Roommate: Yeah, that tracks. Both Sere and Alan took note of Cids roommates comment. It seemed that he was noticing something strange was going on with Cid. Sere took this as an opportunity to further the conversation they were having. Sere: If it''s OK, can we come in and talk to you? Cids Roommate: You wanna talk to me? Sere: Yeah, were worried about our friend, and since you spend so much time around him, being his roommate and all, we thought you might be able to help us figure out whats going on. Cids Roommate: Oh, OK. I dont know if I can help you, but I guess we can talk. Please, come in, he said, as he opened up the door further to let them in. Alan and Sere entered through the front door into a hallway where they could see what looked like bedrooms at the end of it. Sere followed Cids roommate as he turned right into an opening, just before the bedroom, it led into a kitchen area. Alan lagged behind a little, and when he thought no one was looking, he jams his student ID card into the door in a way that prevents it from latching. He then caught back up to Sere in the kitchen. The space was small and surprisingly clean for a kitchen that university students would utilize. At the center of the room was a small table with some chairs around it. Cids Roommate: Take a seat anywhere you want, he said as he began to pull out a chair to take a seat. Sere noticed the chair Cids roommate was about to sit down in, would face him towards the entryway of the kitchen, allowing him to see into the hallway. Realizing it would make it harder for Jafar to sneak by if he sat there, she immediately rushed to that chair and took a seat as the roommate was preparing to sit in that chair. Sere: Thank you very much, she said with an awkward smile. Cids Roommate: OhO-OK he said, confused by Seres strange action. The roommate then took another seat across from Sere, with his back now facing the kitchen entryway. Alan followed suit and sat in another chair at the table. Robert: Oh, right. I didnt introduce myself. My name is Robert, Im Cids roommate.
Chapter 33 - In And Out Jaffar was standing in the hallway of the Shroom Pact dorm. He was just around the corner of Cids apartment. He was peeking around the edge, watching as Alan and Sere knocked on the door. There was no reaction for a while and he was about to come out of hiding and meetup with his friends, until the door suddenly opened. Somebody had come out of the apartment, which Jafar thought was likely Cids roommate, and started having a conversation with his friends. He couldnt tell what they were talking about from where he was hiding. Eventually, it looked like they were invited inside. Once the door was closed, Jafar waited a full minute before he gingerly walked around the corner and quietly approached. He placed his ear against the apartment door and tried to listen in to make sure there wasn''t anyone standing beyond. He couldnt hear anybody, so he gently pushed it open. As he did that, the latch on the door pushed out with an audible clicking sound and flung out a plastic card that was wedged in it. Jafar froze. He waited with bated breath for any response to the noise that was made, but none came. He thought he was safe and continued to enter the apartment. As quietly as possible, he closed the door behind him and then picked up the plastic card that fell out when he opened it. He saw it was Alans student ID and pocketed it. Looking in front of him was a narrow hallway. At the end of it were three doors and on the right side before them was an opening to another room, where he could hear voices coming from. He quietly walked to the edge of the opening. Now closer, Jafar could tell the voices belonged to his friends. He carefully looked around the corner and saw his friends and someone else sitting around a table in a kitchen area. He couldnt see the person''s face, only the back of his head, as he was facing towards Sere. For a brief moment, both Sere and his eyes met before she almost immediately looked away from him. Likely worried that the roommate would notice her staring at Jafar. Jafar quickly moved past the kitchen and down the hallway. Managing to do so without being noticed. Nearly every step he took was almost completely silent. The spell that Alan had casted on him made him lighter, thus also made his footstep quieter. Arriving at the end of the hallway, and seemingly undetected, he proceeded to slowly open one of the doors. The first door he opened led to a simple bathroom with a toilet and shower. There was nothing of interest, so Jafar moved on. The next room was a proper bedroom of a university student. There was a bed, desk to work at, a string instrument of some kind in the corner, a book shelf that had no books in it, and a bunch of trash and dirty clothing all over the place. There wasn''t any distinguishing feature that could identify if this bedroom was Cids, or his roommate. Jafar decided to look at the other bedroom before he started his search. Upon opening the third door, he was met with a similar looking bedroom. It was darker in this room, but it had all the same furniture, minus the instrument. It was clean and didn''t have trash all over like the other, but there was one glaring feature that made it stand out, the walls were completely covered with written notes and photos.
Feeling that this room was more suspicious looking than the other, he silently entered inside. Jafar approached the wall with paper hanging from it. The scribbling on the notes was completely illegible to him. Not being able to read the notes, he moved his focus to the pictures beside them. They were all of the same thing, photos of the university library. The pictures were cutouts from magazines and newspapers, all from different positions and angles. Why so many photos of the library? He wondered to himself. He then moved over to the bookshelf in the room. The shelf contained only text books for various different courses. Jafar quickly skimmed through some of the textbooks to make sure there wasn''t anything hidden in them. He didnt think he would find anything strange, but the contents of the books had been written over with the same unreadable writing as the notes on the wall. What? Why would anyone ruin their books like this? he thought, confused. University textbooks were not cheap, and the scribbling had made these books unreadable. It was unthinkable that someone would ruin them like this, instead of trying to resell to another fellow student. However, besides the scribbling, Jafar found a textbook that had the name: Cid Cook, written in it. This was confirmation for him that this was likely Cids room, and that he wouldn''t have to go scrounging in the other room after he was done here. Jafar carefully put the books back onto the shelf and went over to the desk. More notes with the same weird writing were all laid neatly out on it. He would open one of the desk drawers and there would be even more hand written notes stored inside. He continued to rummage through, but didnt find anything else. Not being able to find any clues, he shifted his attention to the weird writing on the desk. Trying to see if he could make some sense of it. What is with all these weird writings? Its not written in any language I''ve ever seen. There is no symbol that looks wait a minute. Is that a symbol for square root? He thought as he realized something. While scanning through the notes, he noticed the symbol: ̡. To Jafar it looked very clearly to be the symbol for square root. It was also repeated a few other times in the notes he was looking at. Suspecting that the writing actually had something to do with mathematics, he scanned through the writing again, and noticed that there were a bunch of different mathematical symbols throughout. This must be a math formula! Some of these symbols are definitely used in mathematics. However, it must be extremely complex, because I don''t recognize most of these. But if thats the case, what is it for? He pondered. As he was trying to piece together this mystery, he got chills down his back. It felt like someone, or something was watching him. He looked around, but there was no one. Now feeling spooked, Jafar rushed through his search. He went through the closet, another drawer, and under the bed, but didnt find anything of interest. Finally exhausting his search, he quickly tried to put everything back the way he found it. Once he felt that he mostly covered the signs of his presence, he grabbed one of the formulas at the bottom of the desk drawer. Jafar thought that Cid wouldnt notice the missing note, or would just believe it was misplaced. He exited the room and approached the kitchen entrance again. Peeking inside, he saw that his friends were still talking to the roommate. He took this as an opportunity to make a b-line for the front door and quietly left. Once finally outside of the apartment, he let out a long sigh of relief. Jafar: Ugh, that was kinda nerve racking, he mumbled to himself. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out the paper with the formula on it. He examined it again, but still couldnt derive anything meaningful from it. Whats the deal with this? he thought to himself as he quietly went to the area he was supposed to meet his friends. ?????????????????? -Fifteen minutes ago within Cids apartment- Robert: Oh, right. I didnt introduce myself. My name is Robert, Im Cids roommate. Sere: Hello, my name is Penny and this here is Kevin, she said, introducing themselves with fake names. Alan: Um, hey, he said, while trying to act distant. Sere: Dont mind him, he went out drinking last night and is still recovering. Robert: OK. I kinda could tell. Anyways, you said youre Cids friends? I''m surprised. I didnt think he had any friends. Sere: That''s right, and like I said earlier, we came to check up on him. Robert: Well, if you want to talk to him, youre gonna have to go to the library. He spends almost all his time there. Sere: Do you know why hes spending so much time there? Robert: Not really. He doesn''t tell me anything. Sere: Even though you''re his roommate? Robert: I mean, he didnt even tell me he had friends. And about that, how long have you been friends with him? Sere: Oh, um. she said, trying to stall and think up a good lie. Robert narrowed his eyes a little bit. Noticing that Sere was struggling a little bit with that simple question. Her behavior was making him grow slightly more suspicious. Sere: W-Were childhood friends. We used to hang out all the time, but havent much since we all got into the university. Whenever any of us had free time, the other was busy with something else. Robert: OK he said, unsure of what to make of Seres explanation. You guys also said hes been acting strange. How so for you guys? If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Sere: Um, hes been acting distant. It''s like hes avoiding us. Robert: That sounds like what Cid is normally like. he said, now becoming fully suspicious. Sere had a smile on her face, but was internally panicking. She was worried that she overplayed her hand. She didnt know much about Cids personal life and was trying to talk about him vaguely. She didn''t know how much of an introvert Cid was, or how much he interacted with people usually. Alan: Hes been acting even more distant than normal. He would at least talk to us every once in a while, but he doesn''t even do that now. Got mad when we ask why, and now hes avoiding us. he chimed in with another lie, trying to help Sere. Robert: Well, you guys are his friends. So maybe you talk to him more than me. he said, with his suspicion being diffused. Sere gave an internal sigh of relief. Thankful for Alans help. Sere: What about you? How has he been acting strange around you? Robert: Hes been very obsessive lately. How do I explain? he said, while spending a little bit of time thinking about it. He suddenly became very intent on things being a certain way, like extremely so. Sere: What do you exactly mean by that?. As Sere asked that question her eyes wandered around the room a little. She eventually looked towards the kitchen opening to the hallway and saw Jafar peeking around the corner. Their eyes met for a brief moment. Then she immediately looked away, not wanting Robert to notice her staring at her friend. Robert didnt notice Jafar behind him, and kept talking. Robert: Well, it started when he cleaned up the apartment. I didn''t think much about it, I even thanked him for doing it at the time. But then, he started moving things around in the apartment. He would put everything in odd and bizarre arrangements. Sere: How bizarre are we talking? Robert then pointed towards the kitchen countertop. Both Alan and Sere looked over and saw a toaster that was unplugged and upside down, an electric glass tea kettle full of brown liquid with a bar of soap floating in it, and a knife block holder with the knives that were forcefully put in the wrong slot and sticking out awkwardly. It was things that neither of them noticed when they first walked in, but now that it was pointed out, it was glaring. Robert: Hes also moved a bunch of furniture around too. When I asked him why he was doing all this, he wouldnt say. And, when I tried to put things back to normal he freaked out at me. Ever since then, I''ve been confining myself to my room while hes been doing all this weird stuff. Sere: Im sorry to hear that. It sounds like our friend has made your life difficult. Robert: Its fine. I pretty much finished my classes and was going to move out soon anyway. This just sped that plan up a little. Sere: Do you have any idea what the cause of the sudden shift in his behavior is? Um, we wanna make sure Cids OK. Robert: I have no idea. He only started behaving this way after he returned from that affinity test. Sere: He did an elemental affinity test? He didnt say anything about that with us, she lied, hoping that Robert would expand on what he was saying. Robert: Yeah, he took one of those advanced affinity tests too. Advance affinity tests were for people that had something unusual about their elemental affinities. They sometimes can''t use conventional elements very well because of an unidentified trait to the elemental they are attuned with. The advanced affinity tests were to help people understand what that trait was and how to correct for it, if possible. Sere: Did he tell you what the result of the test was? Robert: Not really. I mean, if he didnt tell you guys, hes definitely not gonna tell me. I just know that the day he did that test was when he started to act weird. As he said that, Sere saw Jafar zoom on by in the hallway. Robert turned his head around and looked behind himself. Thankfully, Robert didnt see Jafar go by. Robert: Sorry, I thought I heard something. he said while turning his head back to Sere. Sere: Um, so you have no idea whats going on with Cid. Do you at least have any suspicions? Robert: Hmm, I think he just snapped. Something must have happened that day. Making him lose his mind from the stress of it all, or something like that. At least, thats my guess, but I know one thing for sure. I dont think hes stable, and needs some serious help. Maybe some intervention from his friends or family, like what you guys are doing now. Alan and Sere looked at each other awkwardly. Pretending to be Cids friend to Robert was starting to make them feel weird and a little guilty about it. Sere: Yeah thats why we came to check up on him. To see if we could find out what''s wrong with our friend and help him, she said slightly awkwardly. Robert: Im glad he has friends to help him. Sere: Um, sorry to cut this short, but we gotta go soon. Robert: Oh, already? Sere: Yeah, we got, um. A knitting lesson to attend, she blurted out randomly. Robert: Wait, are both of you taking knitting lessons? he said, while looking at Alan and surprised by the idea of someone like him sewing. Alan: Ah, yeah he said, sounding a little unsure. Robert: O-OK Sere: Um, before we go. Can you not tell Cid we talked to you? Robert: Why? Sere: Well, if hes as unstable as you think, I''m worried of him becoming extremely paranoid. He might perceive us talking to you as some sort of betrayal, and not talk to us. So, if you could just not mention us, at least until we have a proper intervention, she said, feigning concern for Cid. Robert: Oh, OK. I won''t say anything. He doesn''t talk to me anyways. Sere: Thank you. Both Alan and Sere picked themselves up and began to leave, with Robert guiding them out. They quietly left the apartment and made their way through the hallway to the elevator. They only needed to wait a few moments before the elevator door opened and they stepped inside. Once they were alone in the elevator Alan turned to Sere. Alan: Knitting lessonsreally? he said, in disbelief at the excuse she gave to Robert for them to leave. Sere: I panicked. I couldn''t think of a good excuse for us to leave. Alan: Sere, when people look at me, they dont think I''m into knitting. Only you, Jafar, and my family know that I knit. Sere: Sorry, my mind just went blank and wait. You knit? she said, surprised. Alan: What do you mean I knit? he said, feeling insulted. I told you this before, I picked up the hobby awhile ago. I even knitted you a scarf last year for your birthday, remember. Sere: I mean. I got really wasted that day, so I don''t remember much of anything from my birthday last year. Alan: And thats why we didnt bring you along drinking yesterday. he said, in reference to Seres drinking habits. Sere wanted to rebuke Alans comments, but revealing she forgot about her friend''s knitting hobby made it hard to do so. Alan: Anyways, lets meetup with Jafar and see if he got any evidence out of Cids room. he said the elevator arrived at the main floor. ?????????????????? Sere and Alan left the Shroom Pact dorm and made their way to the bench that they were sitting at earlier. There, Jafar was sitting and waiting for them to arrive. Jafar: Did everything go OK? Sere: Before that, did you know that Alan is into knitting? Jafar: Um, yeah? He told us that last year. Even made me a scarf. Sere: When did he tell us this? Jafar: I think he told us on your birthday. When you opened his gift. Sere: Thats why I don''t remember any of this. It was on my birthday, she said, as she realized the cause of her gap in memory. Both Jafar and Alan rolled their eyes at Sere. Jafar: Oh, I have your student card by the way, and why did you stick in the door like that? You could have just left the door unlocked. he asked, as he handed Alans card back to him. Alan: I didnt know if it was one of those automatic doors that lock themselves after a while. he said, as he pocketed his card. Sere: Anyways, did you find anything useful in his bedroom? Jafar: Unfortunately, I didn''t find any definitive clue. But, there definitely is something really weird going on with that guy. His entire room was covered with notes with this weird script, he said as he pulled out the note he took from Cids room. Alan took the note from Jafar and examined it. He was trying to derive any meaning from the strange scribbles. He was fluent in two languages, but It wasn''t like any language hes ever seen. After a few seconds, he gave up and passed the note onto Sere to look at. Alan: I have no idea what its written in. It is definitely not written in Gix, or even the unified language. Sere: Yeah, this looks like gibberish to me, she said while examining the note. Jafar: I actually dont think its a language. I think it might be some sort of complex math formula. Alan: You really think this is a math formula. But, I didn''t see anything that looked like numbers on that. Jafar: Like I said, I think it might be a really complex formula, the kind that uses a bunch of weird and obscure symbols. There were definitely some regular mathematical symbols mixed in there. Alan: And you said he had notes with these formulas everywhere. Jafar: Yeah. They were on the walls, in drawers, his closet, he even scribbled this weird writing in his textbooks. Oh, and he also had a bunch of pictures of the university library on his wall too. Sere: Interesting. The Shroom Pact students I spoke to and his roommate all said he was spending a lot of time at the library. Between that and the pictures in his room, the library must be of something of importance to him. Alan: I dont know how any of this helps us. We needed some evidence of his wrong doing, but we got nothing. Jafar: Maybe not. Ive heard of stories of mathematicians hiding secret notes in their formulas. There could be a secret message in these notes if we can decode it. Alan: Do you think you could decode it? Jafar: This is way too advanced for me. It would require an intense amount of research to decode. Alan: Which means well have to spend all our time back in the library researching again. he said, dreading going through more study sessions with his friends. Sere: Thats not a good idea. Cid is now spending a lot of time in the library. What happens if he comes across us trying to figure out his secret notes? Jafar: It would also take a lot of time with no guarantee that this writing isn''t just nonsense. But, I think I may have a solution for this. It will also be a lot quicker than trying to figure this out ourselves and we wouldnt have to go anywhere near the library. I just need a little bit of time. Alan: What did you have in mind? Jafar: I know someone that might be able to decode this. Just trust me. ?????????????????? Later that same day. Cid wandered through the halls of the Shroom Pact dorms until he came face to face with his apartment door. He went through the motion of pulling out his keys and unlocking the door. Once inside his apartment, he walked over to the kitchen and looked around. There were things out of place. He assumed his roommate probably used the kitchen today and ruined the arrangement. With a sigh, he grabbed the chair in the kitchen and nudged them a few inches from where they were. Once he was happy with the placement, he headed off to his room. Entering his bedroom, he immediately took a seat at the desk and started to go through the notes he left on it. After ten minutes of looking through the notes on the desk, he started to look over the notes in his drawer. One by one he read through them all. Cid: Hmm? Im missing a note. Thats strange. Wait a minute Cid pulled out the Book of Grand Design and another piece of blank paper. He would read the contents of the book while writing that strange script on the paper. A few minutes went by until he was done writing. He held up the script and examined it before his expression turned into a deeply annoyed scowl. Cid: There was someone in my room, likely male and possibly Ember Gear? But not who I think it was. Maybe a third party? Hmm, looks like something Im going to have to deal with later after I am done with the others. he said to himself as he went back to building his design.
First Intermission In an undisclosed place, there was a gathering of four powerful and influential people with some sort of connection with the Church of Light. They all sat around a circular stone table Any physical features these people had that could identify them were obscured by thick black cloaks and metal animal masks they wore. The animals the masks were designed after were that of a cat, fox, bear, and hawk. The masks were also enchanted to change their voices and the people here would only reference each other by the kind of animal mask they wore. A precaution in the unlikely instance that someone was listening in to their conversation. Hawk: Do you know why I called this meeting today? Bear: Is this about who the next Light Speaker will be? Cat: Bear, dont be a fool. It would be pointless to have a meeting about that. We all know Archbishop Beck is the one who will take that position. Fox: Is this about the Witch hunters, Hawk? I hear the infighting has gotten intense. The organization risks splitting, which will cause us problems if it does. Hawk: It seems that all of your information is a little behind mine. The issue today that I wanted to bring to your attention was, the lands south of the Warring States have been taken over by the Red Church. There was a silence that followed from the Hawk masked person comment. It was impossible to tell what the people here were thinking or feeling, as their faces were covered. Bear:Agado? How did they manage that? Even at the height of the Gix empire, they were never truly able to conquer that land. Cat: More likely that they didnt ever want to conquer that land. Its mostly unfarmable swampland where a bunch of man-eating creatures reside. Not to mention, a hotbed for cultists, since its always been difficult to explore and easy for cults to hide in. No one in their right mind would want Agado. Hawk: Its not just Agado. The Red Church has spread their influence and control to the territories around Agado. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Fox: Cant the people see that they''re being deceived. The Red Church is just another nameless god cult pretending to be a religion. Cat: Its been thirty five years since the Gix Empire collapsed into the warring states. The people living there are probably desperate for peace and want the civil war to end. Making them more susceptible to the lies of the Red Church. Hawk: Its as you say, but there was another factor why the people there are turning to the Red Church. The agents I sent to investigate have confirmed the powers of the leader of the Red Church, known as the The Saintess In Red And White. They''re real and just as powerful as the rumor says. She already used them on hundreds if not thousands of people. Fox: Does she really have the power to heal any injury? And, shes been using them on that many people? Hawk: Yes, my agents have confirmed seeing her cure diseased people and regrow missing limbs. Cat: Even the best healers in the history of the Church of Light could only regrow limbs under very strict conditions, and to a very limited number of people. And, shes managing to accomplish that kind of feat on so many people by herself. Bear: If thats true, she needs to be eliminated, or captured to figure out how shes doing this. The Church of Light grew in power partly due to monopolizing healing magic. If people know about someone with even greater healing magic than the Church, it could undermine us and might give legitimacy to her. Cat: I agree that this person needs to be eliminated, but I see no point of capturing her. Theres no need to know how she does it. To be healed by the power of a nameless god always has a cost thats too much to pay. Hawk: I agree with eliminating her, but not for the reason Cat or Bear has said. The real pressing issue of this meeting is that the saintess of the Red Church is apparently in talks with Anya Volk, the war hero of Kavlak. There was another bit of silence between all members present. Fox: What does that mean? Hawk: I do not know, but I do know this. We cant risk the Red Church working with Anya. The war hero of Kavlak has the best chance of ending the civil war in the former territories of Gix. I can only imagine that to gain the corporation of the Red Church, Anya will have to agree to make them an official religion when the war ends and the Gix states reform. This is a risk we cant take. Bear: A nation state recognizing a nameless cult as a religion has not existed for over a thousand years. Fox: For good reason too. The Endless War cult was recognized as a religion in a nation state before. They used that recognition and influence to drag that nation into a war that lasted over a hundred years. Cat: The potential devastation that could be caused if Gix was to reform and recognize a cult as a religion would be unfathomable. Hawk: Thats why I want to present a plan to send some of our elite agents to eliminate The Saintess In Red And White, before any agreement can be made. Chapter 34 - Confirm and Prepare It is well established that there are two classes of curses that are commonly known within academia. However, there is a rare class of this magic simply known as Deadly. This class of curse goes against conventional understanding of curse magic and can, and will, kill the target of the curse. Making this kind of curse very lethal. Deadly curses are not well known, as they have very rarely been observed by experts within the field of curses. Most records of these types of curses are from second hand accounts. On rare observation of this kind of curse, the victim always dies relatively quickly once they notice theyve been cursed. Unlike most conventional curses, there is not necessarily any physical disfiguration associated with this kind of curse. Deadly curses are more associated with causing pure mental anguish by means of dreams or unpleasant feelings. They also do not always leave any unique marker on their victims upon death like normal curses. The source of these kinds of curses are unknown. Older records seem to indicate that nameless cults are the primary user and invokers of these kinds of curses. It has also been reported that certain artifacts from ancient civilizations past have deadly curse''s placed on them and activate when disturbed. Unfortunately, none of these claims has yet to be sufficiently substantiated as of the publishing of this book. Advance Knowledge of the Dark Arts by Archmage Dakka Vinko. The office that most investigators worked at was busy with activity. Officers were working at their desk and dozens of others were walking around with folders of documents. There was a constant stream of people entering and leaving every few minutes. Joe was sitting at his desk within the police headquarters reading "Advance Knowledge of the Dark Arts. Joe: Well fuck me. Wren was right. It might very well have been a curse that killed Rob. he said to himself. Since the run-in with Wren the cultist, Joe and his team had been doing a bit of research into his claims. One of the first things he did was to get Mike to see if the Putrid Rot cult was on the black list for cults. They also did a background check of Wren and didnt find anything strange. They found that he had lived in and operated that store for over fifteen years without any notable incident. Joe had also looked into the rumors Wren mentioned, but didnt find anything interesting about the rumored Keeper. He did, however, just discover the validity of Wren''s suspicion of a powerful curse on Rob. "Advance Knowledge of the Dark Arts seemed to confirm that these powerful curses do exist and have some of the same properties he felt when Rob died, specifically the unpleasant feelings the book mentions. It was starting to look like Joe had found the murder weapon. Now he just needed to figure out who. As he was reading, Dan approached Joes and placed a heavy stack of papers on top of his work desk. There was an audible thud from the papers being placed on his desk. It brought Joe out of his reading, and placed his focus on Dan. Joe: Um, whats all this? Dan: This is a letter from the Witch Hunters forwarded by the Hand of Light, Crowley, he said, as he took the letter off the top of the pile of paper and handed it to Joe. Me and Mike already read it, and unfortunately it seems they''re too busy and wont help us. Joe: Ughhhh, he moaned, as he received the letter. His happiness at discovering the method of Robs murder was short lived, as Joe knew that he would now have to consult experts about this deadly curse. Without the assistance of the Church of Light and the Witch Hunters, who were probably the biggest experts on curses, that meant he had to go to the university. Something he wanted to avoid at all cost. Joe: Sigh, so whats with the other papers? Dan: Well, I cross referenced all of the former members of the Skull Crushers you had on file. I then created a comprehensive list of all possible former members that may want to kill Rob and who was the most likely to. Joe: Throw it in the trash. he said, cutting Dan off. Dan: What?! Joe: Ive factor in the possibility of it being former gang members already, and determined it was not likely any of them that murdered Rob. To murder Rob in the holding room here at the headquarters, would require a level of expertise that none of the former Skull Crusher members would have. And, to hire someone with the expertise to do that, would require an immense amount of money and or influence. Something that most of those former members dont exactly have a lot of. Dan: B-b-but i put so much effort into this, he said disheartened. Joe: Well, maybe you should have asked before you decided to do this yourself. I assume Mike didnt ask you to do this. So, I can only guess that you did this thinking you would impress me. Well, congratulations. You managed to do the opposite of impressing me, and wasted your time. Dan looked so awkward and uneasy. Joe imagined that if Dan was a turtle mutant, he would have crawled back into his shell right now. Even a few other onlookers in the office felt sorry for the poor recruit. There was a briefly awkward silence between them until Mike''s voice cut in. Mike: So Joe, about that black listWhat the fuck did you do? Did you berate Dan like I told you not to!'''' he half yelled out, as he walked into the office and towards Joe. Joe: I only promised that I wouldn''t admonish without reason. Dan here just created a bunch of useless information, and I was just pointing out his mistake, he said, while pointing to the stack of papers that was placed on his desk. Mike: How do you know its useless? Joe: Oh, trust me. Based on what Dan told me he was working on, its definitely useless. Mike: Cmon man. Even if it really is no good, you dont gotta say it. You couldve just taken the papers and said you''ll look at it later, or something. Dan started to look even more dejected. Mikes words were clearly not making him feel any better about the effort he wasted. Joe, who was now frustrated, picked up the stack of papers and then turned to Dan. Joe: Ill look at this later, he said, before placing them in the trash bin by his desk. He then turned back to Mike.Happy now? Mike: What the fuck crawled up your butt. You''re acting like more of a jerk than you normally do. Joe: I just discovered that I have to put in a request with the university. So, prepare yourself Mikey. Mike: Light no! Please, not that! he begged. Dan: Is it really that bad? Mike: The last time we asked for something from the university, it quadrupled our paperwork. There were justso manyforms, he said with a quiver in his voice and a look that was similar to someone suffering from PTSD. Joe: Yeah. I expected that reaction. Well anyways, now that everyone is upset, let''s go blow some steam off at the gun range. We have to see how Dan handles a gun anyways Joe stood up from his desk and headed to the indoor gun range near the headquarters. Both of them followed behind Joe. ?????????????????? In a world of aether and magic, guns were not nearly as effective in a fight. The bullets would just bounce off the wards combat mages used. However, it wasn''t completely useless. Guns could still damage and wear down wards, and when mages were not actively using their magic to protect themselves, they were just normal human beings. A bullet through the chest of a mage without protection, is just as lethal as it would be for anybody else. Firearms used in combination with magic had historically proved to be extremely effective. Even when a mage runs out of aether, they could still continue to fight with their weapon. It also could be used to help conserve aether in certain situations, as someone could use the firearm to fight other aetherless people instead of expending aether. For those reasons, most mages working in the police and military were expected to know how to use weapons such as guns. Joe and Mike were no different. They both knew how to handle a gun and practiced with it regularly. They had some understanding of each other''s skill in handling the weapon, but knew nothing of Dans ability. They had planned on going to the gun range with Dan and testing out his skills sometime this week. Joe decided that today would be the day they did it. The reasoning being simple, it was fun firing off guns in a gun range. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. After hearing about the witch hunters and having to deal with university, Joe just wanted something to take his mind off the investigation for a little while. Joe and crew had traveled to a building beside the police headquarters that was an old warehouse converted into an indoor shooting range. Upon first entering, they were greeted by a caged armory with an officer standing in it who was handing out guns and ammunition to other officers. Mike went to grab some rounds while Joe and Dan headed to the gun range. The shooting range had a long table for people to place their guns on that was sectioned off with dividers to the left and right. In between each divider was a large piece of hanging paper with an outline of a person with a target on the chest area. It was attached to a track system on the ceiling, allowing one to adjust the distance between the table and the target. Joe: So tell me kid. How do you feel about your shooting skills? Dan: Probably just average. I wasn''t really expecting to do much combat when I joined the investigation unit. Joe: Hmm. Well see just how average you are. he said, as he waited for mike to get the rounds. Joe''s comment was followed by an awkward silence between the two of them, along with the sound of gunfire from others practicing echoed in the range. Dan couldnt stand the awkward silence between them and spoke up. Dan: Um, Joe? Do we really have to deal with the university? Joe: Scared of paperwork. Dan: No, ah. Its just that Mike seemed like he really didnt want to ask for their help. Joe: You''re going to learn real soon why we dont deal with those pencil pushers. We dont have much of a choice. I really need to consult an expert about curses. Since it doesn''t look like I can rely on the Church of Light, we have to go to the university. Unless, you have a better idea. Dan: Well, in all honesty, it was only the Witch hunters that refused to provide us assistance. We could still ask the Light Scholars. The Light Scholars were a branch of the Church of Light that kept record of its history. Any knowledge the church may have acquired on deadly curses over its existence, would likely have been recorded and stored by them. They also were not that difficult to deal with as the university. They would freely share information with law enforcement when requested. The only problem was that they were slow. Joe was weighing in his mind if it would be quicker to ask the Light Scholars or the university. They would both be slow, but he knew there would definitely be less paperwork if he went the Light Scholar route. Joe: I guess that is something to consider, he said, not willing to directly acknowledge Dan for his suggestion. Mike came from around the corner and approached both Dan and Joe, holding a small cardboard box full of rounds for their revolvers. Mike: Ok, I got the rounds. Joe: Good. Dan, you go first. Do twelve shots and set the target at 75 feet (22.86 meters). Lets see what you got. Dan nodded. Mike handed him the rounds and he then took his position in front of the table. On the divider on his right side was controls to set the distance of the target. He pressed the button to set it at the distance Joe told him to. The electronics in the track system hummed and the target quickly zoomed out from in front of him and moved into position. The young officer then took out his six barrel revolver carefully from his holster. He checked to make sure it was loaded. Then he turned the safety off and began to aim at the paper target. Mike: Hey Dan! Theres no time limit, so take your time and aim. Dan took Mikes advice and carefully aimed. He squeezed the trigger, with a loud bang, he fired the gun and managed to hit the target. His first shot was about a foot away from the center from where he was aiming. He noted this and corrected his aim for the next shot. Both Mike and Joe carefully examine Dans form and accuracy. They were gauging and trying to get a sense at how good he was with a gun. Without looking away, Mike started talking to Joe. Mike: Do we really have to go to the university? he said, while he continued to watch Dan fire off two more shots. Joe: Wren was right. Deadly curses are a thing. I need to talk to an expert. Mike: Are you sure? That Wren was also going off on a lot pseudomagic when we talked to him. Joe: Even if you dont want to believe in the words of someone practicing the old ways, the book I read was accredited and talks about this kind of curse. Some of the features the book described also match up with how Rob was behaving before he died. Mike: Hmm, I don''t know. I feel like were missing something. Joe: Thats why I need to talk to an expert. Anyways, did you ever figure out if that Putrid Rot Cult was on the list he said as Dan fired off his last shot. Mike: I couldnt find the name of that cult on the list. Honestly, it would be easier if they made a list of approved cults, because that prohibited list is really long. Joe: Huh. That just gives more legitimacy to what Wren told us. Dan took out the empty shells in his revolver and popped six more shots from the box of roads he was given. He then took aim and fired his gun like before. Mike: You know, you could be a little nicer to Dan. Joe: Why? Mike: He actually said he looks up to ya. Joe: Youve been telling him weird stories about me. Mike: Nothing weird. Just telling him about some of the cases you did before Rob. Told him about how you managed to get the head boss of one of those smaller gangs behind bars. Joe: Did you tell him about all the work I did, including the ones I failed? Mike: You''re not still beating yourself up about that one operation, the one with the drug deal, he said, turning to Joe. Joe didnt move at all. He was placing all his focus on Dan and didnt want to respond to Mike. Mike: You are. You''re carrying too much baggage. You were young and inexperienced back then, just starting out. It was an accident. Joe: Someone still died. I killed him. Just like I killed Blake and Jeff. Mike: Those two were not your fault either, it was Robs. You gotta stop beating yourself up, no ones perfect. Joe: Yeahwell imperfection seems to end in a lot of death. he said, without ever facing Mike. Dan had finished firing his final shot. He then safely put his gun away. Joe walked up behind and pressed the button on the side, bringing the target up close. The target was sprinkled with holes all over the chest area of the silhouette. Joe counted the bullet holes and looked at how far those holes were from the bullseye. Dan: So what do you think? Joe: Hmm, you scored 77 out of 120. Not terrible. Mike: Not terrible? Come on Joe, thats above average. Dan did great. You wouldnt do that much better yourself. Joe: Oh, really? he said, before walking over to another shooting setup and hitting the button to move the target into place. He pulled out his gun then turned his head towards Dan and Mike with a cocky smile. He raised his arm and unloaded his gun without looking at the target. After a loud series of bangs, his gun was empty. He hit the button again and the target zoomed back to in front of Joe to be examined. Dan looked over at the target and saw that every shot was a perfect bullseye. Dan had a look of pure awe on his face from the display of skill. Dan: That was amazing! he said, incredibly impressed. Mike: Yeah, yeah. Very impressive, now do that without magic. Dan: Oh, that was magic? he said, with his amazement being quickly snuffed out. Mike: Yup. Remember, Joes a vectromancer. He can manipulate the magic fields around bullets in a way that makes them hit their targets. Joe: Had to rain on the kids parade. Anyways you can go next, he said, directed at Mike. Dan: Wait, before we continue this. Can we talk about the case were working on briefly? Joe looked at Mike, expecting him to respond. Mike: Yeah, sure. What did you want to talk about? Dan: I was thinking, if asking the university was so bad, why dont we look into that lead on St Vaal street instead. Who knows, maybe well find what we''re looking for and wont have to rely on the university. Mike: Im against it. Its too dangerous. We cant afford running into the Nighthounds. Joe: Actually, maybe the kids got a point. Mike: Joe, are you nuts? I purposely delayed us doing any investigation into Vaal street cause of how dangerous it was. We just cant go into the east end. Since an officer went missing near the east end recently, Mike was more cautious at the idea of going anywhere near there. He really didnt want to go. Mike had been purposely delaying Joe on investigating the lead on St Vaal street. He even threatened to tell Murdock about Joe''s intention of investigating on the east end, trying to get him to give up on that lead. It was frustrating for Joe, but he was seeing an opportunity to convince Mike otherwise with Dans help. Joe: I dont think we need to do that much planning. We''re just going to ask around. If youre worried about the kid''s safety, we can leave him behind and just you and me go. Dan: Dont leave me behind. I-I can help. he said, insistent to go with them to Vaal street. Mike: No one here is going to Vaal street. Joe: Tell you what, why dont we do some democracy. Those who want to investigate Mark''s home on Vaal street, raise your hand. Joe immediately raised his hand. Mike just stared intensely at Joe intensely with his arms crossed. With some hesitation, Dan slowly raised his hands. Mike had a completely shocked face that Dan was going along with Joe. Mike: Dan, you dont know what youre saying. The Nighthounds are ruthless. Joe: Cmon, Mikey. Its not like were going to the red-light district, where we know thats where the Nighthound main base is. St Vaal street isn''t even that far into that gang''s territory. We just leave our police badges behind and dont wear our uniform, and no one will know were cops. Mike: If we start asking questions around Vaal street, people are going to get suspicious. Which will make the Nighthounds suspicious. Joe: We just tell them were private investigators looking for someone. People go into hiding on the east end all the time. No one will bat an eye at us then. Dan: If were careful, I''m sure it will be OK. Mike had a stern look of refusal to go to St Vaal street, but Joe could feel his partner''s resolution being ground down. He knew Mike just needed a little bit more of a push and he would be onboard. Joe: Mikey, think about it. Dan could be right. We might find a really good lead or some evidence. Then we wouldnt have to go to university, and you wouldn''t have to fill out all those forms. Remember last time, we had to fill out fifty different papers, and that was years ago. I can only imagine it has only gotten worse with those pencil pushers now. Mike had a slight shudder at what Joe said. He looked at the ground with his arms crossed in deep contemplation. He was weighing if it would really be worth investigating Vaal Street. Between Dan and Joe, Mike was starting to lean towards doing it. After nearly a minute, he let out a very long sigh. Mike: If it starts to feel dicey, we bail. Got it? Joe: OK. It''s settled. Tomorrow well all meet up at Bennys early morning before we head out to St Vaal street. And, make sure you both leave anything that could be used to identify you as an officer at home. Mike and Dan nodded. Joe and his team then continued to practice their marksmanship for the rest of the work day. Chapter 35 - Past Mistakes of an Officer Joe just got off a bus and started walking along the street. It was the morning after they discussed going to the east end. They couldnt drive a vehicle into St Vaal street, as it was an old street that wasn''t designed to have vehicles driven on it. So, he left his vehicle at home today and opted to take a bus to Bennys today, with the intention of walking to St Vaal street from there. He continued to walk along the street until he stood in front of the familiar diner. He could already smell tea being brewed and greasy bacon being cooked. It whetted his appetite. He loved the food here and how cheap it was. He suggested meeting here so he could get a good meal before heading off to the east end. He pushed open the eatery''s front door, ringing a bell, informing the waitress of his presence. A familiar cat girl mutant turned her head towards Joe with a smile and greeted him. Jenny: Hello Joe. Your friend is already here at your usual table, she said. Joe: Oh, Mikey is here already? Jenny: No, its your other friend. The new guy, she said, while pointing to Joes regular table. Joe turned his head and sitting at a table was Dan, waving his hand at him. He nodded to Jenny and then walked over to the table and took a seat beside Dan. Joe: I see you''re up and early. Dan: Yup, I don''t live too far from here. So, it was easy to get here. Joe: Huh, was all he said, before turning towards Jenny. Hey, Jenny. Can we get two regulars? he called out to her. Jenny: Sure thing, hun, she said before calling out to the kitchen to prepare Joes order. Dan: Um, shouldnt we wait for Mike before we order? Joe: Why? Im hungry now. If you''re worried about upsetting Mike, dont be. He wont care if we start eating without him. Dan: If you say so. Joe: Also, when you came in, you didnt say anything weird to Jenny, did you? Dan: W-what? No, at least I don''t think I did. I just asked for a table for three when I got here. Joe: Just making sure you''re not being an ass to Jenny just cause shes a mutant. Dan: Ive been doing my best to unlearn all those stereotypes. I dont make any assumptions about mutants after what you told me last time about them. Joe: You shouldnt make assumptions about any people. The crap you spouted to us a few weeks ago is something that''s not that easily unlearned. But, I suppose youve been spending a lot of time with Mike, so hes probably sorted you out a little. By the way, hows training with Mike? I know I haven''t been able to spend as much time training you as Mike. Joe hasn''t spent too much time with Dan since he joined his unit. Mike had been keeping him away from Joe. Afraid that Dan would be admonished for every little thing, lowering his confidence and making him more likely to transfer out of the unit. However, Joe wasn''t going to do that. He had every intention of keeping his word and wouldnt do anything to purposely make Dan leave. He made that promise with Mike believing Dan would eventually leave his unit on his own. He could tell right away that their personalities didnt mesh well, and felt that Dan would eventually get sick of Joe and want to transfer to another unit on his own. So, he thought all he had to do was wait. Dan: Mikes been great. Hes really helped me out and has been telling me about all the crazy cases you guys have done. Joe had suspected that Mike was telling Dan stories about their previous investigation and was romanticizing them. The comment Dan was making seemed to be a slight confirmation that it was. Joe: What has he been telling you exactly about those investigations? Dan: He was telling me about the case with Romilly Osborn, the killer who was killing mutant women and dumping their bodies in alleyways. Mike said once they put you on that case, you managed to find and stop him before he could do another murder. How you managed to figure out who did it so quickly was impressive. The Romilly Osborn Investigation was one the earlier successful investigations Joe''s unit had done. He was a serial murderer and radical religious zealot that had killed twelve people before Joe had figured out who it was and threw him behind bars. Of course it was Romilly Osborn. Mike loves telling that story. Joe thought to himself. Joe: That was a long time ago, and it was not as impressive as Mike makes it out to be. Romilly was sloppy and it was easy to put it together at the time. Dan: But you figured it out in less than a week. That still sounds really impressive. Joe: Its not always that easy. We dont usually get cases like that. Being an investigator is more paperwork than anything else. Dan: Oh boy, do I know. Ive been helping Mike out with that. You guys are really behind. Joe looked away from Dan, feeling guilty. Part of the reason there was so much paperwork was mostly his fault. He had been extremely focused on the Rob case lately and had fallen behind on his share of the paperwork, forcing the excess onto Mike. It was another reason he couldnt exactly push back that hard on taking a new recruit, with both him and Mike needing the extra assistance in the office. Joe: Y-yeah. Its good that you understand that. But, I''m getting the sense hes not told about all the work I''ve done as an officer. Dan: Probably not. Is there a specific story you wanted to talk about? Joe: Yeah. Did he ever tell you about the work I did before I became an investigator? Dan: No, not really. Joe: Well, I was a street cop. Before I entered the force, I spent my whole life here in Graheel and always wanted to be a cop, even if I had to start from the lowest position. Dan: Then I take it you work your way up to being an investigator. Not satisfied just being a street cop. Wanted to make more of a difference? Joe: What kind of ideas is Mike filling your head about me? It wasn''t about satisfaction and Im not as ambitious as you think. Im not trying to change the world here. I only wanted to give back to my home and keep it safe. Me rising to the rank of an investigator was just a sign that I was doing my job well, even if I don''t agree. Dan: Wait, you dont think you''re doing your job well? Actually, I guess there is the paperwork he said knowing full well about Joe''s lack of action on the paperwork problem in their unit. Joe: Its not that. Im talking about the operations that I messed up badly in. I''m sure Mikes been trying to paint a perfect picture of me. Hes told you of my successes, but nothing of my failures. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Dan: I guess you might be right about that. I dont think hes really talked about the investigations that ended up going nowhere, but I would expect that. Sometimes there is just not enough information to go off. Joe: Thats an investigation, I''m talking about sting operations. Where you try and catch perps in the act. Did he ever tell you about the drug bust I did while I was still a street cop? Dan shook his head. Joe: When I was a young greenhorn like you, one of the senior investigation units asked for my assistance. They wanted someone young to pretend to be a drug dealer. I was still relatively new in the force at the time and wasn''t that well known yet. I was the perfect candidate. Dan: I see. And this didnt go well. I take it. Joe: No, and I didn''t even want to do it at the time. Dan: Why not? Joe: I have a very different stance when it comes to drugs from my fellow officers, especially small time dealers. I grew up near people that were doing all kinds of stuff like that, some harmless, others, very self destructive. Those small-time dealers, many were just trying to get by, and the addicts became that way from circumstance. I just I don''t think it''s right to punish those kinds of people. They need help and cops are not the solution in that situation. But, I know I''m in the minority in that opinion amongst the force. Dan: OK. I get what you''re saying. So thats why you weren''t so keen on arresting Wren on drug charges back then. But going back to that sting operation, why didnt you just refuse if you didnt agree with it then. Joe: They convinced me to do it. Was told it would lead to us taking out one of the bigger crime organizations. We could get enough information from the people we busted to lead into an indictment for one of the big crime leaders. However, I learned later that it was a lie. It was just some senior officers looking to make a quota for the year. They just told me all this to make me feel more comfortable about doing it. Dan: Oh..thats shitty. Joe let out a long sigh. Joe: I then pretended to be a drug dealer looking to offload a bunch of products for cheap. Then I got in contact with a desperate guy looking to make a buck. Jin Freyr was his name, he paused a little and made an almost pained chuckle. Its almost laughable. I really did believe in that lie and thought this guy was working for some grand crime lord. If you saw this guy Dan, you wouldnt think for a second he was working for any crime boss. He was obviously just dirt poor. Dan: I see where this is going. You arrested him, only to find out later you were lied to. Those senior officers made you go against your own ethics. I guess that wasn''t your proudest moment. Joe: Dan, you should really learn to listen better. I said that this operation was a failure. Dan: Wait, so that means you didnt catch this guy. Joe: No, Jin sensed something was off. Once that happened, I panicked. I pulled out my cuffs and tried to restrain him, but he slipped away. As he was running away, I pulled out my gun. With my cuffs still in hand, I attempted to shoot at his leg to stop his escape. And then There was a long pause. Joe was having a hard time saying what happened next. It made Dan look uncomfortable and he wanted to say something, but couldn''t. The intensity that Joe was displaying was intimidating, and Dan could only wait for him to speak again. Eventually Joe took a deep breath and continued on his story. Joe: I missed, was all he said. There was a brief pause as Dan processed what he just heard. Dan: You missed? he said, surprised. It was only yesterday that Dan had witnessed Joes marksmanship with his vectromancy magic. The idea that Joe could miss his target was unthinkable to people that knew him. Joe: Made a rookie mistake. I mixed up cuffs. The handcuffs I pulled out were jinsil cuffs, the ones made for restraining mages. So when I fired off my gun and tried to guide the bullet with magnetic magic, nothing happened. The jinsil cuffs I had in my hands disrupted my magic, allowing the bullet to be fired straight right into the back of Jin''s head. Dan was mouth wide with a look of absolute shock. He had no idea how to respond and just turned his head to the side, looking away with a slightly pained expression. Joe: So, learn from me. Dont take your handcuffs out until your suspect is properly restrained first, he said with a look of melancholy. You know, that was the first time I killed someone. They tell you to be prepared to kill when you become a cop, and that it will get easier with time, but I don''t want that to get easier. Dan: Ahh. he mumbled, unsure what to say. Joe: Worst part, I got promoted for that and nothing was done to me or anybody involved in that operation. The operation was a failure and they promoted me, killed a man and got rewarded for it. This world is so fucked up, he said as he shook his head. Dont let anybody ever tell you something like that is ok. Dont become fine about snuffing out a life. Dont be fine about ending a person. After Joe''s passionate speech, Dan was left unable to say anything. The two of them sat beside each other in an awkward silence, slowly causing Dans face to twist into visible discomfort. Another few minutes until Jenny came with their plates of food. Jenny: Here''s you orderwhats with the sour mood? she said while placing plates of food in front of them. Joe: It''s nothing. Thanks for the food, Jenny. Jenny: If you say so. she said before taking her leave while wagging her cat tail. Joe started to dig into his food while Dan just stared at his plate. Joe: Better eat up. If that little story bothered you so much that you cant eat, youre not going to last very long as an officer. You''re going to hear a lot worse shit than that. Dan: OhOk He said as he slowly started to eat as well. Another few minutes went by until the store bell above the restaurant front door rang out and a familiar person entered. Mike: Sorry I''m a little late, he said as he approached. Joe: You''re not late. Me and Dan just got here a little early, he said while sipping on his tea. Mike took a seat at the table. Jenny came by with a plate of warm food already prepared for Mike and placed in front of him. Mike: Thanks, Jenny. Jenny: No problem hun, she said before she walked away again. Mike took a quick sip of tea before he then turned to Dan. Mike: You didnt say anything weird to Jenny? Dan: Y-you too? he said, dismayed slightly by Mikes comment. Joe: No, we already went through this. He said he didnt do anything and Jenny would have said something if he did. Mike: Hmm, OK then. he said followed by him taking a bite of his toast. Joe: By the way, did you find any useful information about where this Mark person may have lived. Joe had asked Mike to look through the residential registry of the people that lived on Vaal street after they finished their shooting practice yesterday. He was hoping someone with the name Mark might appear on the registry and they could just check out those homes first. Mike: No. Didnt have enough time and we dont know this kid''s surname and the registry goes by that. Not to mention if this Mark guy was renting an apartment or something, he wouldnt show up in the registry. So, I couldn''t find what home he may have lived in, but I did narrow down which section of the street we should start searching first. It''s the most eastern part of Vaal street. Joe: What are you basing this on? Mike: The east end was pretty impoverished back in the day, and Jack made it sound like this Mark kid wasn''t too well off. So, I figured we start at the most eastern part of Vaal street and work our way westward. Remember, it used to be that the farther you traveled east, the more it became a slum. Joe: Hmm, that makes sense. Dan: Um, you guys said the east end used to be a slum, right? Joe: Thats right. Dan: Is it still like that? Mike: Not really anymore. The east end got fixed up real good for a while now. Used to be packed full of homeless then, but not now. Dan: Oh, Ok. So, how did the city go about fixing it up? Joe: It wasn''t the city. It was the Nighthounds. Dan: Huh? Whys a crime syndicate fixing up slums? Mike: Its not done out of charity. That gang values loyalty above all else, even if they have to buy it. Them fixing up the slum was a way for them to get loyalty out of the local populace in the east. Dan: How does fixing up the slum buy loyalty? Is it just out of gratitude? Joe: They buy up land and build housing units and charge nearly nothing on rent. Those units are also pretty decent to live in, I hear. Mike: Yup. Its the carrot on a stick method. They provide them with nice living conditions and people are less likely to rat out the Nighthounds. Then theres the fact that they''re landlords and can evict the people living on their property. Whether its out of gratitude or fear of losing their home, the Nighthounds have a massive amount of control over the people living in the east end. Joe: Thats why when we go to the east end, assume everyone is a snitch working for the Nighthounds, and dont give out any information that could be used to identify you as a cop. People there have every reason to rat us out to the Nighthounds. Dan nodded his head in confirmation of what Joe just said. Joe: Anyways, lets eat up and then head out to Vaal street. he said before continuing on with his meal. Chapter 36 - Haunted places On the easternmost part of Vaal street, Joe was standing by the sidewalk talking to a mutant woman that looked like a rabbit crossed with a human. She had the ears and face of a rabbit with short fur covering her whole body and rabbit feet too big for shoes, but she was bipedal and wore a simple floral A-line dress that hangs down to her knees. Clothing that you would expect a woman to wear. Joe: And you''re sure you havent heard about someone named Mark? Mutant rabbit woman: No, like I said, I just moved here. Anyways, I gotta go. Hope you find whoever you''re looking for, the mutant woman said before walking away from Joe. Once the woman was out of earshot of Joe, he started to mumble to himself. Joe: That''s just great, he said to no one in particular. This was the thirtieth person he had asked about Mark, and everyone he asked didnt know anything about him. The neighborhood he was asking around was old, but there had been a series of renovations over the years. New cheap apartment complexes were put in and many people living around here were new residents that moved in a year or two ago. Rob had murdered Mark around the time he disappeared, which was eight years ago. That would mean Mark was living somewhere on Vaal street eight years ago as well. But, with many of the people living around here being new residents, it made it hard to find someone that lived around here when Mark was around. Joe needed to find an older looking person, someone that probably has lived on this street for a while, to have any chance of finding someone who knew Mark. That would have been Joe''s main line of pursuit, but there was another problem compounding the difficulty of his search. Most people that lived around here were mutants. Mutants can have a bunch of inhuman traits that make it hard to tell a person age. Because of how krimson mutates people, its impossible to accurately guess a mutant''s age by just appearance. The mutations just vary way too much from person to person. A mutant that might look young might actually be quite old and vice versa. Because of this, Joe cant narrow down who to question and is forced to ask every mutant he comes across. This is going to take forever. Maybe I should just search around for non-mutants that look old to ask. No, that wont work either. Even if they look like an old non-mutant, they still could just be a young mutant that looks old and has no noticeable mutation. Damn it. Do I really have to ask every person I come across? he thought to himself in frustration. Joe: I wonder if Mike and Dan are having any better luck than me, he mumbled to himself. When Joe and Mike realized how difficult it would be to find someone that knew Mark, they decided to split into two groups. Mike and Dan would be on one team and Joe would be by himself. He originally wanted to split into three groups, but realized how little Dan understood the city. Combined with the fact that this was in the Nighthounds territory, they both agree it would be safer if Dan was accompanied by one of them. They were not about to take any more unnecessary risk than they had to. Joe let out a tired sigh and proceeded to continue to walk along Vaal street. He still couldn''t get over how much the east end of the city had changed over the last fifteen years. Vaal street was an older part of the city and the buildings were packed together tightly. The street was too narrow to allow vehicles into. Many of the buildings towered over the little street with a mix of both modern and old design in its architecture. It all had a certain charm to the entire area from maintaining some of the older design of the buildings. There were countless signs and balconies hanging off the side of the highrises. There was a mixture of establishments that varied from restaurants to clothing stores all throughout the street. It all created the feel of an active and vibrant community. It''s hard to imagine that this place was a complete dump over ten years ago. Heck, I''d even live here if it wasn''t for the fact that its in the east end. Joe thought to himself as he walked along the street. As he continued to walk along, there was no one else on the street at the moment. Joe was considering if he should head into one of the nearby shops and question the staff about Mark. From the corner of his eye, he turned his head and saw someone that looked odd. It was someone wearing a extravagant black lace gown that dragged on the ground with a wide brim hat. She had a matching parasol held above her head. She stood about a hundred feet away from Joe and her complexion looked quite pale from where he was standing. He couldnt make out any notable detail about this person''s face, he was too far away from her to see. She carried herself with a slightly mysterious, if otherworldly aura. Something in Joes gut told him that this person was not normal. Who in the world is that? She doesn''t look like anyone else around here I''ve talked to. He thought to himself. He started to approach her with the intention of questioning this strange woman. As he did so, the woman quickly moved towards a nearby alleyway, out of Joe''s sight. Joe: Crap, he mumbled to himself, worried that he might lose this person. He didnt know how, but he just felt that the person he just saw knew something about Mark. He didnt want to lose this person. Joe started to run towards the alleyway he saw that woman enter. As he turned the corner, he was met with a dim and empty alley. There wasn''t a soul to be seen. The only notable thing there was some electrical boxes mounted on both sides of the alleyways walls. Where in the world did she go? She just disappeared, like she was never there. There are no doors in this alleyway she could have entered, so does that mean she ran to the other end of the alley? But, that dress she was wearing wouldnt be good for running, and why would she even need to run? Joe wondered to himself. Joes inquisitive mind analyzed the peculiarity of the situation, but he did not have any clear answer. He started to make his way down the alley, carefully looking around to make sure he didnt miss any doors that the women could have entered. Joe eventually reaches the other side of the alley. It exited onto another road. Across from the road was a clearing with a bunch of dead looking trees surrounding a dilapidated and grim looking house. The two-story house looked like it had been abandoned for years. It was boarded up and bits of the roof had been dislodged and hung precariously off the edge. It looked condemned and ready to collapse from years of neglect. There was also a constant ever so slight haze around it, almost like a mist, but not quite. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. The contrast with the street he just came from was stark. The old part of Vaal street was bright and vibrant. Full of community and life. The place he was looking at felt the complete opposite. The oddity furthered by the fact this place is right beside where he came from. Joe could feel an uneasiness coming from that house. That place looks haunted as fuck. He thought to himself. Between the woman that just vanished and this creepy looking house, he was on high alert. There was a sense of danger from the lack of knowledge of his surroundings and an unpleasantness he felt coming from that clearing. He very slowly and carefully approached the house. Joe slowly crossed the street when he felt someone grab his shoulder from behind. Already feeling antsy, he grabbed his gun and spun around and pointed his gun at the person who touched him. The person who grabbed his shoulder was Mike with Dan standing behind him. Mike immediately let go of Joe and quickly backed off while raising his hands up in the air, gesturing he didnt mean any harm. Mike: Whoa! Calm down there buddy. Joe: For fuck sake. Dont sneak up on me like that. I might have shot ya, he said as he put his gun back into his holster. Mike: With all due respect, both me and Dan called out to you, and you ignored us. Joe: Did you? I swear I didn''t hear you. Then again, I sometimes do that. Where I focus on something too much to notice people calling me. If that is the cause, then I''m sorry about that. Mike: Yeah, sounds about right. I hate when you do that. Anyways, you managed to find anybody that knew this Mark person? Joe: No, unfortunately not. Mike: Then why are you here? Joe: I was following this weird looking woman. I lost her and somehow ended up here wait. The way you said that makes it sounds like this place has something to do with Mark. Mike: That''s because it does. Tell him Dan. Tell him about what you managed to find out. Dan: Oh, um, he paused, surprised that Mike wanted him to explain why there here. Joe: You know you could just tell me, Mike. he said, cutting Dan off. MIke: Shut the fuck up Joe. Just let Dan explain. He was the one to find out about this place. Please Dan, continue. Dan: Um, I managed to find out about this old lady living nearby. Me and Mike went to visit her and ask her if she knew anything about Mark, and she did. She actually knew a lot about him. Apparently he would go over to this old ladys place and play board games to keep her company. Joe: That sounds like a big score. Someone like that is bound to have a ton of information about Mark. Dan: By the light, she did. She talked our ears off about Mark. I guess apparently he didnt like chocolate very much. he said, recalling the tedious conversation about Mark he had with the old lady. Joe: Yeah, I know the kind of person you''re talking about. Anyways, keep it to only the relevant stuff. Dan: Right, Um. So I guess this place is where Mark used to live. Joe: What!?! That haunted looking ass house, is the house that Mark used to live in, he said while pointing to the house behind him. Dan nodded his head. Mike: Yup, and based on what the locals say about that place, it might actually be haunted. Joe: I mean, it definitely looks haunted. But, do you actually think a necromancer could be at work in a place like this, in the middle of the city without the Nighthounds or church getting involved. What people would consider as a haunted place, is a place that is infested with ghosts, something that is not a naturally occurring affair. It is often the work of necromancers. They take the spirits of people and bind them to a place or object. Doing this makes the spirit lash out against the living, violently. Mike: That''s what the locals are saying. No one goes near there because they say that the ghost of the woman that died there still haunts the place. Joe: You and I know thats not how that works. The idea that people haunt the places they die is just a superstition. You need a necromancer to bind a spirit to a place, otherwise they just dissipate. Mike: I know that, but the people around here are pretty certain that this place has a ghost in it. Joe: And no one bothered to ask the church to perform an exorcism? Dan: Um, apparently they did. At least, thats what the old lady said. Joe: Care to explain? Dan: I guess someone that lived nearby asked the church to perform an exorcism here, but it didnt work. The priest said he needed more powerful materials to successfully exorcise the ghost from this place, which required a very large donation. Joe: Ok, I see where this is going. No one wanted to pay the church, so the priest never came back to finish the exorcism. Mike: It seems that way. Although, I think if this place was actually haunted, the Church of Light wouldnt just leave this place alone and do nothing about it. Joe: You have a lot more faith in that institution than I do. Anyways, whats this about a woman dying here. Is that Mark''s mother? Dan: Yeah. She wasn''t doing too well... Mike: You dont need to sugar coat it. She hanged herself somewhere in that house, he said as he pointed at the ominous house. Joe: A suicide, huh. Combined with how creepy this place looks, I get why people around here would think its haunted. Was there any reasoning to why she did it? For example, she found out her son was killed by Rob. Mike: Kinda? That part gets confusing. The old lady said Mark''s mother wasn''t mentally well. She was crying everyday about her dead son while Mark was still alive. Eventually she just snapped and hanged herself. Afterwards, Mark just left the neighborhood. Joe: Huh? The timeline sounds off. Jack made it sound like Mark was still looking after his mother when Rob killed him. Dan: Jack could be misremembering. It was years ago when this happened. Mike: That is true. It also didnt sound like Jack knew much about Mark''s personal life. Remember, he didnt even know what state Mark''s mother was in when we asked about her. Joe: Hmm, I guess well just have to go off what the locals say about what happened. So, what do you guys think about this place? Dan: It''s creepy as fuck. Mike: Yeah, like you said. I get why people think its haunted. So, are we going to head inside now? Dan: What!? You guys want to head inside there? he said while nervously looking at the ominous house. Joe: Obviously, we still need to figure out the connection between Mark and Robs disappearance eight years ago. Dan: If there is no clear connection between Mark and Rob, why are we investigating Mark? Joe: Because it is the only name Rob mentioned before he was killed. Anyways, lets head inside. Dan: Wait wait wait. What if it is really haunted? I didnt receive any training on how to handle ghosts at the academy. Joe: That causes the way cops handle ghosts is by getting exorcists to deal with them, not us. OK, now let''s head in. Dan: Wait, shouldnt we bring exorcists with us then? Joe: I dont want to waste time looking for one. We need to limit the amount of time we spend here on the east-side. So, lets go already! he yelled, as he started to walk towards the house. Dan: WAIT! If a ghost attacks us, how are we supposed to defend ourselves! he yelled out in a panic. Joe: ... Joe just looked at Dan with a blank stare before looking towards Mike. Their eyes met and Mike rubbed the back of his neck and made a conflicted expression. Both knowing what was going on in each others mind. Mike let out a deep sigh before turning towards Dan. Mike: Dan, are you afraid of ghosts? Dan had his head down awkwardly, struggling to answer the question. Dan: Ahh, um. Umyes. But isnt that normal? It would be more abnormal if you weren''t afraid. Mike: Ah. I see. Well, you can wait out here if you want. Me and Joe can go in by ourselves. Dan: You cant leave me here alone! Dont you know what happens to those who split up in a spooky place. Havent you ever seen a horror movie! Joe: Oh, for fuck sake. Dan, my limited amount of respect for you is rapidly evaporating. So, either get your ass in that house or wait out here for us. Dan just looked at Joe with a mix of apprehension and fear. Mike noticed this and tried to help calm him down. Mike: Look Dan. If we come across a ghost, well just run. Ghosts cant leave the place they are haunting, so dont worry. Besides, I doubt its actually haunted. Dan didnt look any calmer, but he did nod his head, agreeing to what Mike was saying. He slowly started to approach the house along with Mike and Joe. Joe: Ok, let''s see if this place is really haunted or not. Mike: Sigh, why you gotta say it like that. Chapter 37 - A Knife In The Dark Necromancy was the original study of the necros elemental force. Over the years, it greatly deviated away from this and became more about achieving immortality and bringing the dead back to life. As a means to reach this end, necromancers ended up creating a type of magic called spirit binding. The thought was that while the physical body eventually breaks down and dies, the soul is eternal. If one was to use aether to bind the soul to the living world, they thought it could be considered a type of pseudo immortality. You would be able to live on in this world as a spirit, hypothetically forever. The only limiting factor is that you would be forever bound to a certain place or object and your spirit couldnt move too far away from what its bound to. However, the results of this type of magic were disastrous. Souls are not made to exist in this world without a body. The reason why souls pass beyond this world is because it is tortuous for souls to exist in the living world. Forcing a soul to remain in this world like this is tantamount to torture. The pain of this type of existence erodes whatever rationality the person had in life, eventually turning violent and lashing out against anyone living. The original creator of spirit binding magic, Gunder Hortensius, was actually killed by the soul he bound. The results of this magic also didnt achieve anywhere close to the immortality the necromancers thought. A soul in a spirit binding will still eventually dissipate over a long enough period of time. It is not exactly known why that happens, but Archmage Pema hypothesizes that souls try to destroy themselves by grinding against the magic binding them until nothing remains, all as means to end their own suffering. This would be equivalent to grinding oneself with sandpaper to death. If true, it encapsulates how unethical this type of magic is. Needless to say, this type of magic is labeled as forbidden and is illegal all across the western continent. Necromancy: An Honest Study Turned Foul by Ester Bastet Joe and his team approached the former home of Mark. Dan trailed behind a little, letting both Mike and Joe take the lead. A clear display of apprehension was on his face as they approached the ominous house. Even Joe was becoming a little more unnerved as he approached, but he did not show it. There was just a constant sense of foreboding he couldnt shake. They passed by a broken metal gate that made a squeaking sound as the wind blew against it, causing it to rock back and forth on its rusty hinges. The entire property was surrounded by the remains of a stone fence. Much of the man made structures around the property still remained surprisingly identifiable. The surrounding plant life was a little gray and struggling to grow. One would think that if such a place was abandoned, nature would slowly reclaim it, but it almost seemed like any form of life was repelled by the house. The closer they got, the less plant life there was. Even the grass stopped growing a few feet away from the house and only bare dirt separated Joe from the property. Now standing in front of the house, Joe stared at the open door that led into a black abyss. It felt like he was standing on the precipice of something, and part of his being was telling him to turn back. Ignoring what he was feeling, Joe started to climb some stairs to get onto the front balcony. As he did, one of the wooden steps broke beneath his feet and he stumbled. Joe: Fuck, he yelled out, just barely catching himself on a nearby handrail, saving himself from falling on his face. Mike: Woah, you OK? Joe: Yeah. But, be careful. This house doesn''t seem too structurally sound. he said while pulling himself up. As he pulled, the railing he was holding broke off the section he was holding. Joe stumbled again, but this time landed on the steps, hitting the side of his body against it. Joe: Ow, he said, groaning. Mike moved right beside Joe and helped him up. Mike: You didnt break anything, did you? he asked as he pulled Joe up by his arm. Joe: No, I''m not gonna need healing magic or anything like that. Its just a bruise. And let me correct myself, this place is not maybe unstable, it is unstable. So, be extra careful, he said as he stood up. Mike: Hmm, I don''t know. Maybe thats a sign we shouldnt go in. Joe: When did you become superstitious? Mike: Its not superstition. I dont want a building falling on our heads. Joe: We cant turn back now, cant you feel that. That weird feeling in the air. It''s kinda similar to that weird feeling we felt before Rob died. Mike: I dont know about that. It was a lot more intense with Rob back than it is here. Joe: But its still similar. I just think that this place and Rob are connected somehow. Im sure well find some clues inside. So, come on, he said while gesturing to Mike and Dan to follow him. Joe then pushed forward with his team behind him. He had only moved two feet into the house from the front door and it was already starting to turn pitch black. Both him and Mike pulled out small light torches to illuminate the hallway in front of them, so they could see where they were going. The torches didnt seem as bright as any of the officers expected. It somehow felt darker than it should have been. The shadows wrapped and clung ever so tightly to every corner of this place, despite the light. It almost seemed like the darkness had a malignant intent directed towards them and their presence here. The limited amount of light of their torches reflected off the bits of glass and debris scattered amongst the ground. From what they could see, there was water damage on the flooring and walls of the building. The air smelled musty. Dan was visibly shaking and standing real close to both Joe and Mike. He could both see and feel the strangeness of this place, and it terrified him. Dan: A-aa-a d-d-do y-you any of you h-have an extra t-torch, he said while stuttering, afraid and desperately wanting a light source for himself. Joe: Nope, you''re out of luck kid. Mike: Here, you can take mine. Just keep it steady, he said while handing Dan the light. Everyone stuck close together as they moved through the hallway of this ominous condemned house. The floorboards creaked with every step they took. The first room they came across was a living room. The furniture was surprisingly still here, if a bit damaged from water that may have leaked through the roof onto it. There was a couch, a few closed cabinets, tea table, and shelves full of books and other miscellaneous things. The space was quite densely packed. Mike: Im surprised no one stole anything. Then again, this place is considered haunted, so people might be too scared to come take anything. Joe: Hmm, looks like there is a lot of stuff to search through in this room. How about you guys check out this room while I go upstairs? Dan: W-w-what?!? Thats a terrible idea! You''re not supposed to split up in a haunted place. Mike: Ok, well search around here and some of the other rooms on the ground floor while you do that, he said, ignoring Dan Joe nodded and proceeded to head upstairs, while Dan protested. The veteran detective left the group and walked around a little until he found a flight of stairs leading upward. Each step Joe took up the steps leading upstairs creaked loudly and echoed throughout the main floor. Even Mike and Dan, who was a reasonable distance away, could still hear it from where they were. Once at the top, he continued through the dark hallway. The first room he came across looked like an empty bedroom. The dresser drawers were pulled out and any clothing they may have had was gone. In the corner was the remains of a broken bunk bed that had collapsed on itself. Joe shined his light throughout the room, but didnt see anything immediately of interest. He decided he would check out the other rooms first before searching this one. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Shining his light down the hallway, he saw at least two more doors. He continued his way towards the door on his right, all while making loud creaking sounds with each step he took. Peering inside, he saw what looked to be a master bedroom. There was a large mattress on a simplistic metal bed frame that looked big enough for a couple to sleep in. There was a similar looking dresser that had its drawer pulled out just like the previous room he examined, but this time there was clothing flung about the room. It looked to be mostly women''s clothing too. As he shined his light around the space, there was a glimmer on top of one of the dressers. Curious, he approached the dresser in the room. Once closer, he could see that the glimmer he saw was the reflection of the light on the glass of a picture frame. He then picked it up and closely examined it. The photo in the frame was ripped in half, right down the center. Only the left side of the picture was still intact But what remained, he saw a pretty black haired woman in a fancy blue dress gown. Standing in front of her was a young brown haired boy in a similar fancy short sleeve suite. That little boy must be Mark and the woman behind him must be his mother. This must be a family photo, but why is it ripped in half like this? he wondered to himself. Joe flipped the picture frame around and carefully popped the photo out. He then quickly held the back of the photo to the light and examined it. On the back was someones incomplete hand writing that read: g wife Esmeralda and family. live happily and healthy. your dear husband. Was all the half ripped in half of the photo had written on the back. Joe: So it is a family photo, and it sounds like there is a husband," he said to himself. Joe presumed that the woman in the picture was Esmeralda and the little boy must have been Mark. He then flipped the photo around and looked at the picture carefully again. This time he noticed the arm of someone wrapping around the shoulder of the woman, but couldnt see anything to identify whos arm this was. The person holding Esmeralda was cut off at the shoulder and only his arm could be seen. Joe: Hmm, half of the picture is missing. The other half must have the husband in it. It must be somewhere around here, he said as he started to search around the room. He slowly sorted through the various storage and clothing throughout the room for ten minutes, but couldnt find the other half of the photo. He did find what looked to be empty bottles that once contained different types of pills. Based on the labels on those bottles, Joe could tell it was medicine related to sleeping and managing depression. Well, I was told the mother wasn''t well. If these are her pills, it looks like she was suffering from a sort of mental condition. Maybe something like PTSD if she was having trouble sleeping and was depressed, but without knowing more, it could be anything. Joe thought to himself. He did one last search around the room, but didnt find anything. He exited the room and continued to ponder what he knew so far in the hallway. I managed to find some empty pill bottles and half a family photo. There was no mention of Mark''s father from anyone that we talked to. I just assumed he was just a deadbeat that abandoned Mark and his mother, but based on this picture, he seemed like he was involved in their lives. Although, the fact the photo was torn in half, almost like it was purposely done to remove the husband from it, might be indicating how truly involved he was. He thought to himself while looking at the photo he got from the master bedroom. Hmm, could be another lead if we could find the father, assuming hes still around. Joe concluded before pocketing the picture he was holding. He then slowly made his way towards the final door in the hallway. He casually opened the door, as he did, something flung out and smacked him right in the face. It causes Joe to stumble about backwards and panic while the floorboard creaked loudly beneath him. He quickly pulled out a gun and pointed it right in front of him, while erratically shining the light forward, trying to see what smacked him. Joe moved the point of his torch around until he settled in on a single object dangling in the center of the room. It was a rope with a loop in a knot that hit him. It was attached to something on the ceiling and swung out toward his face as soon as the door was open. He stared intensely, flabbergasted, recalling how Marks mother apparently hanged herself. Joe: Is that a fucking noose? Why the fuck is that here? he said in disbelief. He couldnt believe that the noose someone used to hang themselves was still here, with no one taking it down. Joe thought for a moment that it was a prank someone left, but also couldnt believe anyone would come around here to do something like that. This place had such a dark history and feeling surrounding it, no one would willingly come around here. Looking into the room he just opened was a small bathroom with a toilet and a shower. The walls were filthy and covered in black mildew. He shined his light up at the roof of the room and saw that the rope was tied around a light fixture in the ceiling. Mike: Hey Joe, is everything OK up there? he called out from downstairs. Mike and Dan had heard the commotion Joe made when the noose smacked him in the face, and were calling out to make sure he was ok. Joe: Yeah, I was just startled, he yelled back. Dan: Whats our name? he yelled out from below. Joe:What? Dan: If you''re not a ghost impersonating Joe, you should know our names. Joe: Shut the fuck up, Dan! he yelled back frustrated by Dans behavior. Dan: Ahh, why would you say my name? Now the ghost will know my name! he yelled out in panic. If you were worried about that, why would you ask me to yell out your name then? He thought to himself, annoyed. There was a sudden load creaking followed by a crash and the sound of wood splintering from the main floor beneath Joe, where Mike and Dan were. Dan: Ahhhhh! Mike: Fucking holy light! he yelled out. Joe immediately readied his weapon and ran downstairs towards where he heard the crash. He made his way to the entrance way of the living room where he left his team. He stopped just from entering the room, as dust was stirred up and he couldnt see anything inside. Joe: Hey, are you guys ok?" He didnt get a response, but could hear both Mike and Dan coughing from the dust. Joe stood there and waited patently. Eventually the dust settled to reveal his team was OK, but now dirty and covered with a thin layer of gray dust. Mike: Cough, cough, cough. Y-yeah were fine. Cough. Joe: What the fuck happened? he said while entering the room. Mike: Dan freaked out when you called to him and bumped into a shelf, tipping it over. In the center of the room was now a bookshelf fallen over onto its front side with Dan standing beside it. Dan: I-Im sorry, he said while trying to rub the dust out of his eyes. Joe shined his light onto the bookshelf that fell and noticed that there were drops of blood on the back of it. He then moved the direction of the light towards where the shelf was standing and noticed a rectangular metal panel with a dial embedded into the wall with more drops of dried blood on it. It was a safe. Joe: Actually, good job Dan. he said while walking over to the panel. Dan: Huh? was all he said, taking a little while to notice the safe Joe was looking at. Mike: So there was safe behind that shelf the whole time. Joe: Not only that, look here. There is dried blood on the back of the shelf and the safe. he said while shining his torch on the dried blood. Mike: Hmm, so maybe there was a scuffle around there and the shelf was quickly moved to hide it. Joe: I dont think the shelf was moved to hide the blood so much as the safe. Theres only a few drops here. It would be easier to wipe it down than move furniture around. Mike: Youre probably right. So, what do you think the blood is about? Joe: Not sure, but we might find a clue in that safe. Dan: Are we going to have to rip that out of the wall and take it to an expert to get it open? Joe looked at the safe then tapped his knuckles against the metal, making a deep hollow metallic echo. He channeled his aether while touching it to see if it would be disrupted, it wasn''t. Joe: Nope, this is a basic safe. It has no mage protection on it. Just give me a second. With an open hand, he made a twisting motion a couple inches away from the safe and the dial on the safe started to turn. Joe was creating a magnetic field, using it to try and feel out the inner working of the locking mechanism of the safe. After a few seconds of concentration he could feel the wheels of the locking mechanism and had an idea of the position they needed to be in. He generated a stronger magnetic field and rotated the disk inside until he was sure they were in the right position. Joe then reached out and turned the lever on the safe. With a click, the safe door easily swung open. Joe expected to find documents or money inside, but found neither. The only thing he saw was a folded up switchblade. With visible disappointment on his face, Joe reached inside and took it. He rotated it around in his hand and carefully examined it. The handle was metallic and had an intricate pattern carved into it. He then pushed the button on the handle and the blade flicked out. There wasn''t as much of a design on the blade, apart from what looked like an eye carved into the center of it. There were also a few drops of dried blood on it. Joe: Hmm, so i think what happened is that someone cut themselves on this blade and got blood on it. Then they got blood on the safe and the back on the bookshelf. Dan: How can you be so sure? Joe: People cut themselves with these kinds of blades all the time, accidentally flipping the blade out when they''re not ready. So, I''m sure of that. What I don''t get is why its in a safe like this. Mike: It does look a little fancy. Maybe it is valuable. Joe: Hmm, that might be the case. Could have some sort of sentimental value too. Anyways, it doesn''t look like there is anything useful in that safe, he said while pocketing the switchblade. Did you guys find anything interesting? Mike: Not really, but we did find signs that it was likely not just Mark and his mother living here. Joe: Yeah, there was a father. I found a family photo with him cut out of it. Mike: OK, that''s something. Find anything else interesting up there? Joe: I found a noose. Dan: W-w-what?!? Joe: Yeah, I know. Its strange. Come, I''ll show you guys. Joe led the way and Mike followed behind with Dan hesitating a little bit, but quickly ran up behind them, too scared at the idea of being alone. Joe showed the team the noose that hit him in the face. The rest of the team was stunned by this, but assumed it was some sort of prank, despite Joe disagreeing. When they found nothing else, they searched throughout the rest of the house with the constant sense of unease bearing down on them, but continued to find nothing. After another floorboard broke beneath Joes feet, Mike pushed them to leave the condemned home. In the end, they would leave the house with nothing really interesting happening, or any clear clues on connecting Mark to Rob''s murder. Joe in the coming days would spend his time trying to find more information about Mark''s father and mother. ?????????????????? Outside Mark''s old home, some distance away in an apartment overlooking the condemned house from a window, there was an old mutant man with an extra pair of arms beneath his normal arms. He wore a custom blue shirt with a plaid jacket on top and sported a long white beard. He observed three individuals in trench coats entering the home. After some time, he saw the same individuals leave the home and the area. He stroked his beard and pondered what was going on in that old building. It was known to everyone in the neighborhood not to go anywhere near that building. The Nighthounds made it very clear to stay away. No one in their right mind would go against what the Nighthounds said, combined with how ominous and dangerous the place seemed. It left only one possibility in the mind of this individual. Mutant Man: They must not be from around here. Hmm, the Nightqueen will probably want to know about this. Chapter 38 - An Unexpected Meeting John sat at the usual desk at the back of the store sipping tea. Across from him was neighbor Leroi. Leroi was an alchemist that lived next door to John. He was the only one in the neighborhood that would come visit John every once in a while. The man was short and stout with a thick gray beard and a bit of a gut. They originally didnt meet on the best of terms when they first met, but they both got over that and became good friends. John: So hows business? Leroi: Its been OK. Ill get by. John: Always been meaning to ask, but how many customers do you have? Leroi: More than you that for sure. They both chuckled at Leroi''s comment. John: But, seriously? Leroi: Like I said, I have enough customers to get by. Its not a lot, but the few alchemists that come to my store buy some expensive things. After all, alchemy is not cheap, and selling expensive alchemical tools allows me to make some profit. John: Thats good to hear. Oh, right. Here''s that coffee you ask for, he said as he pulled out a tin of ground coffee and handed it to Leroi. Leroi: Thank you. I wish you would tell me who your supplier is, or at least let me pay you for it. Coffee wasn''t native to this world and John was only able to get it by manifesting it in this store. So, he couldnt really tell anyone who was supplying him, or how he was getting it. John: Nonsense, I dont charge friends. Your company is payment enough. he said, trying to deflect from Leroi''s comment. It didnt cost John anything to get a hold of coffee, so he didnt really feel right charging for it. Leroi: If you say so. Anyways, that''s the end of my lunch break. I best get back to work. Take care, John, he said before departing. Once alone, John''s thoughts began to wonder about recent happenings. It had been a little over a week since Cid had come to talk to him about his infestation problem. John was noting that he seems to run into his customers more frequently lately. He was used to going months without seeing anyone during store hours. Especially since Adam stopped coming around for game night with Fenny. He missed playing games with those two. Although, the frequency of his customers he saw this month has mostly been Cid, coming around just to talk and partake in the treats he would manifest. John didnt mind. During the hours his store was open, he didnt have much opportunity to converse with anybody. So, he appreciated Cid''s presence. As he was sitting there thinking about recent happenings, he heard the familiar ring of the front door bell. He straightened his posture and looked up to greet the person entering. He expected that it was Cid again visiting, but as he saw who entered, his happy demeanor quickly changed to that of apprehension. The person that entered the store was an older gentleman sporting a cane with a skull pommel. His clothing was black and dapper with his gray hair tied up in a ponytail. He had red piercing eyes that John was all too familiar with. The person that entered his store was Onyx. The thing from twenty years ago that took on this form and had asked John to name him for some reason. This was someone that he almost didnt expect to see ever again. Onyx: Fine day to you, John. he said with a smile, that obfuscates some alien intent. John: W-why are you here? he nervously asked. Onyx: Huh? I did say that I would check in on you from time to time. John: T-that was twenty years ago, when we first met. I-I havent s-seen you since then. Its been so long, I-I thought that you forgot about me. Onyx: Is that a long time? I must apologize. Never really got the hang of the perception of time. That aspect of reality always seemed so pointless to me. Always acting as if one minute of time is any different than one thousand years of time. John: W-well if this is a check up, then im fine. You can go back to doingwhatever it was you were doing. Onyx: Would you like to know what I''m doing?" the older appearing man said with a smile. The creature with a human looking face of an old man, tapped his cane on the floor and a nearby chair pulled itself out and in front of John''s table, seemingly by an unseeable force. Onyx then took a seat right across from John. John swallowed his saliva nervously while cold sweat was starting to form on the back of his neck. He never wanted to see this thing again. It had been so long and so many years since when they first met, it gave him a false belief that Onyx would never show up again. John wanted nothing more than to put everything involved with this thing behind him. He was content with the current day to day affairs, and Onyx being here ruined them. From Johns side, he could hear a whimper. Turning his head, he saw Lunar looking up at him with his big blue eyes with the ears down. Lunar could always tell when John was upset and was quick to go over to him to help calm him down. John reached down and petted Lunars head and the dogs tail started wagging excitedly. Just having his furry friend with him here and throughout these years, calmed him down and helped in those moments of loneliness. He felt he would be Ok as long as Lunar stayed by his side, even in the face of indescribable horrors. John took another deep breath and calmed down as he scratched lunar ears. Any visible sign of his nervousness receding. John: No, I already have accepted my situation and have long concluded that Im just better off not knowing, he said while continuing to pet his dog. Onyx: Then I''ll tell you just the basics. Since our last meeting, I''ve been in the eastern continent. Basically, doing the same thing over there that you''re doing here. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! John: You''re running a store too? Onyx: Im giving out salvation. Although, it is annoying. Humans are always crying for help and want to be saved, yet at the same time they dont want to let go of the things hurting them. For example, in the west you have a civil war in Gix and a religious war in the dragon empire of the east. In both places most dont want these wars, yet those same people participate in it anyway. I know they are fickle, but I really still dont get it. I wonder if you have any insight into this. Why do humans hold onto the thing that hurts them if they dont want it? he asked. John looked down at the table in front of him in deep contemplation. He was trying to draw upon his last twenty years of experience to give Onyx a proper answer to the question. After a few seconds of thinking, he looked back up at Onyx and spoke. John: In the case of war, that can be forced onto people regardless of what they want. But, you''re right. Humans are fickle like you say and can cling onto their pain, but that is because they are complicated. Most people dont want pain in their lives, but sometimes there is something more important attached to that pain that they cant let go. Onyx: Could you explain? John: How do I explain? Um, take me for example. I still miss my family greatly even after all this time. It causes me emotional pain sometimes. If I would completely forget about my family, the pain would go away, but I would never. Because the memory of them is more important to me than the pain I get from longing to see them again. Onyx: Look at you. Got really good at your role in this place, he said with a ominous smile, clearly pleased with Johns answer. Hearing that, part of John wanted to know what it meant by his role here, but he reigned in his curiosity. He knew understanding this thing''s intention wouldnt really make him feel better or help him. He was already convinced that if he knew, it would likely just give him nightmares. John: Um, thank you, was all he said. Onyx: You''re welcome. There was an awkward silence between the two of them. Onyx just stared at John with its red piercing eyes with a smile. John didnt speak up or try to further the conversation. He was hoping that if he was awkward enough, Onyx would want to leave on his own. However, John realized that wasn''t going to work. Onyx nature was just too alien. John wasn''t even entirely sure if Onyx could feel uncomfortable enough to leave on his own. Based on what he heard about Onyxs perception time, he thought it was possible that this creature could sit in this chair for years just staring at him if he didnt say or do anything. John then spoke up to break the strange silence that was occurring between them. John: Um, if thats everything, dont let me keep you from giving out that salvation you were doing. Onyx: Actually, there was one thing I really wanted your help with. Would you be so kind as to name this one for me, he said while gesturing to his left side. John turned his head slightly and saw a person in a cloak standing off to the side. It was like this person was standing there the whole time, without John noticing. John might have been surprised about the sudden appearance of a person he didnt notice, but he was actually quite used to this kind of stuff now. Hes lived in this store for twenty years and things just randomly appearing out of his eyesight was a daily occurrence for him, and the sudden appearance of a person was no different for John. The person''s face was completely obscured by darkness inside the cloak and he couldnt make out too many physical details about this person. However, looking closely, he could see what looked like wide hips and a large bosom, qualities that he would associate with a woman. John: Um, who am I naming? Onyx: That''s what were trying to figure out, adding no further details to what he was saying. John was about to ask for an explanation, but stopped. He reminded himself that he wanted to limit the amount he involved himself with Onyx. He just decided to do what he was told and not ask questions. He pondered for a second what he should name this new person. He was sure this cloaked individual wasn''t really human and was something similar to Onyx, but tried not to put too much thought into it. Since he was able to make out some features that remind him of a woman, he decided to just go with a random girls name. John: Emma. Is that an acceptable name? he said, directing it at the cloak individual. There was no immediate response, but after a few seconds, the cloaked person turned their head towards John and pulled back the hood to reveal its face. John slightly freaked out for a second, scared that he was about to see a horrific monster, but the face revealed was that of a normal looking woman''s face. She had the appearance of middle age and quite a pretty face with light makeup and black lipstick to match her violet eyes. Her hair was black with bright red highlights on the tips. She presented an appearance that reminded John of a goth girl from his original world. Emma: Yes, I very much like that name. Onyx: Good, you can now head out to the far west. Emma nodded, and left quietly though the front door without a single word, leaving John alone with Onyx. John: She''s headed to the far west? Does that mean she is going to Gix? he asked, but then was followed up by immediate regret by asking a question and starting another conversation with Onyx. Onyx: Oh no. Shes going much further than that. Across the sea to another continent to do the same thing I''m doing. Since this reality dictates I can''t be at two places at once, I needed an additional helper, who you were so gracious to name for me. John: Wait, there''s a continent across the sea in the west? he blurted out, unable to contain his curiosity. From the time John has spent here, he only knew of the western and eastern continent. Hes heard of nothing about another continent across the sea in the west. Onyx: Oh yes, there very much is. There are in fact two giant landmass across the sea. Humans in both the west and east dont know much about it, since they dont possess a safe means of crossing deep oceans without getting attacked by sea creatures. As a result, people here and in the lands across the sea know almost nothing about each other. John: That''s fascinating. Onyx: Indeed. Anyways, dont worry about Emma. Where shes going, you will not see her again, and will have no part in the happenings of this continent. Thats for another story. John: Oh, um sure. W-wasn''t really asking about her, but thanks. he said, unwilling to ask any further question about what was just said. Onyx: Ill take my leave now. it said with a tap of its cane. John let out a sigh of relief, happy that Onyx was leaving him. The thing with the appearance of an old gentleman stood up and turned to leave the store. As it was leaving, it stopped. This terrified John for a while, afraid of the reason Onyx didnt keep walking. Onyx turned around to face and speak to John one last time. Onyx: Oh, let me give you some fair warning. There seems to be some trouble brewing at the university here in Graheel. Its about to whats the expression people say? Boil over soon, I think it was that. Anyways, some bigger events are to happen in the week. Im sure youll be able to handle it, or maybe not. Maybe youll do nothing with this warning, and thats fine too. Things will progress as they need to regardless. he said before turning back and exiting. With the sound of the front door opening and closing, signaling Onyx departure, the tension in John finally relaxed and he slouched back into his seat. Even after so long, it was unnerving to see that man again. Just thinking about when that thing appeared in front of him that day twenty years ago frightened John. His thoughts then drifted to the strange warning Onyx gave, and then to the people he knew attending the university. What did he mean about something that was about to boil over at the university? Is something bad going to happen, should I warn Cid? Then again, it might not be something that bad. Im also unsure how helpful such a vague warning of theres trouble brewing at the university would be. I guess I could still call him and tell him to keep his head down, no that wont work either. He said hes doing exams now the last time we spoke. He probably won''t take my call this week because of that, and I don''t know where he lives. Oh, shoot. What should I do? John sat there for five minutes thinking about what to do with this information. In the end he didnt know how to get this information to Cid and did what Onyx had said he might do, and did nothing. John only prayed that nothing bad would happen to the people at the university. Chapter 39 - Unfortunate “Accident”
As many already know, Gix was once the largest nation on the western continent. A militaristic empire ruled by a monarchy for thousands of years. A member of the ruling family at the time who was the last in line to inherit the throne, Kye Vintrox, had successfully removed all his political opponents and secured his place next in line to be emperor. This was accomplished by the suspected assassination of all his siblings and was believed to be arranged by him. While not proven that he did this, all his siblings ended up dying under mysterious circumstances and assured him the crown. Kye Vintrox was made emperor and ruled Gix for sixty seven days before dying from an accident that involved him falling off a horse and hitting his head. The result of his death left Gix without a ruler and no viable candidates, since he had no heirs and all his siblings were dead. This began a process within the empire to find another ruler. Gix was not unaccustomed to ruling dynasties dying off and being replaced by another, but in the last thirty five years to this day, no family has risen to the role. This was unprecedented and has never happened before. While the ruling family of this nation have changed throughout its history, there was always one family that would rise through civil unrest and take the crown for themselves, until now. No family had a strong enough claim to the throne, and the few front-runners that were vying for the throne also died under mysterious circumstances. This started a conflict between powerful noble families. Due to so many coincidental deaths, the families started accusing each other of assassinating their political opponents. Within a year of Kyes death, the conflict between the noble factions got so intense that the remnants of the government broke down and triggered a civil war. Each state within Gix formed alliances with different factions and noble families. This began thirty five years ago and the conflict has been going on since then. Its been so long that people just started referring to the Gix empire simply as The Warring States. A Brief History of Gix and the Warring States By Sam Worhock -Ten years ago.- Alan was in a refugee camp near the border of the Union States. He was sitting on a bench waiting for his friend Cris. Around him were tents and people with expressions of worry and despair. People were waiting for their refugee claims to be processed and to be let into the Union State proper, but until then, people from Gix like Alan were forced to wait in these camps. Cris: Hey Alan! he called out as he came running past tents toward his friend. Alan: Hey Cris, he yelled back. Cris came to stop in front of Alan. Cris: So, are you ready to go exploring that area I was talking about? Alan: Oh, um, um, he said, struggling to say something. Cris: Whats wrong? You trying to say something? Alan: YeahUm, my family is leaving here soon, in a couple days. We got sponsored by my uncle in Graheel. Cris: Really?! Thats great! Alan: Yeah but I don''t want to leave you here he said as he teared up, but before he could say anything else, Cris punched him in the shoulder. Ow he mumbled, rubbing where he got punched. Cris: Dont be a crybaby. One of us has to get out of here, and if it is you, then you gotta go chase after our dream. Dont worry, me and my family, we''ll probably get out of here any day now as well. Alan: ButIt should be you that becomes an Archmage. Cris: It doesn''t matter who. Just one has to do it. It''s something we promised to do between everyone. You, me andmy brotherLance he said as he started to tear up a little. Gah, look at what you did. Your stupid crybabyness is rubbing off on me. Alan: Im not a crybaby. Cris: You are too. Alan: Am not. Cris: Then lets go explore that haunted place I found and see if you really are not one. Alan: Do we have to? Cris: Yes, cmon. he said while gesturing to follow him. Alan didnt really want to go, but he knew this might be the last time he gets to spend with his friend. So, he reluctantly followed. The place they ended up exploring didnt have any ghost, and Alan wasn''t able to dodge the crybaby accusation even after following Cris into a supposed haunted place. ?????????????????? -Back to current day.- At the Graheel university, Alan was in an office sitting beside his friend Sere. Across from them, sitting at his desk, was professor Sorin Black of the Gray Scale college. They were both called in today to talk about Cris. Part of the process of getting accepted into the Arcane Eye college involved a formal interview with people that knew Cris. It was something that was meant to help determine a student''s character, and if they were truly worthy of getting accepted into that college. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Cris had asked them if they would go through that interview for him, to testify to his character. They both agreed. That was the reason they were here today, sitting in Professor Blacks office. Both Alan and Sere have been talking to Professor Blackfor some time at this point. Sorin: And hes still in good standing with the Church of Light youth group: Peace for Gix? Sere: Oh yeah. Cris was so helpful during our donation campaign. We managed to raise a hundred thousand glint for humanitarian aid to Gix. Sorin: Hmm, thats quite impressive. This definitely helps build his character as an upstanding student. Im also not surprised he would join such an organization, with him being a former refugee of Gix and all. Speaking of former refugees, you were one as well, he said, directing his attention towards Alan. Alan: Um, yeah. Sorin: As I understand it, you were best friends back then. It must have been hard for you both being displaced and everything. But, despite that, you manage to come out of it and end up here. You both should be proud of yourselves for getting this far. Alan: Thank you for saying that. Cris is one of the hardest workers I know. Hes a really good guy and deserves to get into the Arcane Eye college. Sorin: Well, dont worry. His chances of getting in are looking really good. I know I''ve taken up a lot of your time, but there is just one last question I need to ask you both. What would you say motivates Chris? What does he want to do with his life? Sere: Isn''t that something you should be asking Cris? Sorin: I already have, but I need to hear what other people think it is. Its all part of his character review. Sere: Well, based on what I know about him, I think it probably has something to do with ending the conflict in Gix. He was always one of the most passionate people working in our youth group fundraisers. I dont how he would go about doing that, but I''m sure thats probably one main goal motivating him. Sorin: What about you Alan? Does that sound right to you? Alan: Yeah. He has a lot of family still in Gix. Working towards peace would likely be his main motivation, but not his only. Sorin: The way you''re talking about it, sounds like you know something. What else would you say is motivating him? Alan: Oh, um he then paused for a few seconds, struggling to say something. Sorry it''s just a little embarrassing to say. he said while nervously laughing. Sorin: Dont be embarrassed. No one here will make fun of you and everything you say here will be completely confidential. Alan: Um, it''s just that when we were young, we promised each other along with a bunch of our other friends that one day one of us would become an Archmage. Sorin: That is not too uncommon for people when they are young. Alan: Yeah, and it is not just a, um, passing kinda kid''s dream. He really wants to become one and is trying. Doing it to keep his promise for the ones that didnt make it out of Gix he said in a tone that sounded a little sad. Sorin: Say no more. I get it. I can tell this is bringing up some painful memories for you. We have therapists and counselors available for students on campus, so I encourage you to use their services if you need it. Alan: Thank you. Im already doing so. Sorin: Good. Also, what you''re saying tracks. Your friend has already expressed that he wants to become an Archamge and use that influence to push for peace in Gix. I''m sure with how talented Cris is that he was interrupted by his office door swinging open. Another professor had barged into the room. He was bald with large bags under his eyes and wore similar robes of the grayscale college like Sorin Black, but was lower rank. This was professor Karl Jixi, an assistant professor to Black. Jixi: Sorin we have an emergency! Sorin: I''m in the middle of doing an interview about Cris Miles, what''s so important that you needed to barge in like this! he said, furious at Jixi''s sudden appearance. Jixi: This is about Cris! T-There was an accident that happened just now! Alan: What happened to Cris? Where is he? he said with a look of extreme worry for his friend. Jixi looked at Alan and just responded without thinking. Jixi: H-Hes in training arena 17, and it''s bad. There was Before Jixi could say anything else, Alan ran past him toward the training area Cris was at. The way Jixi was talking about his friend didnt sound good to him. He had a really bad feeling about his friend and needed to make sure he was OK. Alan used enhancement magic to increase his speed, using all the available aether he had to go fast as possible. It was dangerous to use so much aether as he was doing right now, the strain it caused on his body could greatly injure himself, but he needed to get Cris. He zoomed by countless people and buildings, feeling the strain the magic was putting on his body as he went. His legs burned and ached, he felt he was getting close to his limit, but he did not stop. A few people saw Alan run by frantically and gawked. Just at the entrance of the training arena, there was a sharp throbbing pain in his left leg. He had pushed himself too hard and had severely strained his muscles. Despite this, Alan undid the magic on him and continued to limp through the pain into the area. Nearby there was an ambulance vehicle with a nearby crowd gathering around something. He then heard people scream out. Telling the crowd to make way. As the crowd parted, he could see two paramedics carrying a stretcher. In that stretcher was Cris, unconscious, covered in blood with his left arm missing at the shoulder. Seeing that, Alan froze. It was like time had slowed down for him. So many thoughts ran through his head at once, it all just became white noise to him. Memories of his childhood with Cris flashed before him. The time they got in trouble with their parents, the time they built a treehouse, or when all of his old friends promised that they would all become Archmages and defeat the evil nobles. He was so overwhelmed he couldnt feel anything, but a single tear managed to make its way through and slowly run down his face. Cris was loaded up into the vehicle before departing to the hospital, with siren blaring as it drove off into the distance. Jafar: Alan? He turned his head and saw Jafar in his orange Ember Gear robes, who was with Cris while Sere and him were being interviewed. He looked shell shocked. Alan: Jafar? What happened? Jafar: Itit was an accident. He was sparring with a senior and he got hit by a lightning bolt that blasted off his arm. he said with his voice slightly quivering. Alan: How? he said in an almost daze like state. Jafar: It failed. It all failed. All the protection magic that was supposed to stop this, from the magic in the arena to Chriss ward failed, all at the same time. Alan: Hows that he said before being cut off by Jafar. Jafar: It was him! Alan, it was him! he yelled out. Alan: Who? Jafar: Cid I saw him briefly off in the distance before I lost track of him. I-I think he was smiling when it happened. Anger was now another emotion added to the mix of what he was feeling right now. Part of him wanted to chase down Cid and beat him half to death for what he did, but what little bit of rationality that Alan still had told him not to, instead he decided to focus on Cris for the time being. Without saying anything else to Jafar, Alan turned away from his friend and slowly spent the rest of the day, slowly, limping towards the hospital Cris was being taken to. Chapter 40 - Prediction and a Date A day had gone by since the incident with Cris. Inside the waiting room of the laboratory building J-44 was Alan and Sere. This was the building that housed the person Jafar said might be able to decode the note they got from Cids room. Jafar was in talks with the person right now while the others waited. Alan had his leg up on a nearby table with Sere looking carefully at it. Her hands glowed with the bright golden light of Vitos energy, as she waved them around his leg. Sere was using healing magic on Alan to help the strain he put on his muscles recover faster. Alan: Thanks again, for healing me. he said graciously. Sere: Thank you for letting me get some practice in. Although, I don''t really like practicing my healing magic on my friends. Id rather you not hurt yourself. Alan: Im sorry. Sere: Just dont push yourself too hard, but I get it. Alan: Yeahow. he yelped out. Sere: Whoops, sorry. Used a little too much aether there. she said as the glow from her hands lessened, as she adjusted the amount of aether she was using. Alan: I thought healing magic wasn''t supposed to hurt. Sere: It shouldn''t, if you apply it right. That''s why healing mages like us gotta practice. So, that we get it right and not hurt our patients. Alan: Well, I guess you should be thankful youre training as a proper healing mage, otherwise this might have been a lot more painful. Sere was in the Silverwing college. The majority of the Silverwing student body and facility were healing mages. It was the college that focused on religious studies and medicine. People who knew that, would expect anyone wearing blue robes in Graheel was proficient in healing magic. Sere entered that college to try and move away from being a combat mage, like her family expected. Her faith in the Church of Light doctrine motivated her to become a healing mage. She looked up to the healing mages in the church and wanted to become one. She trained and studied and it eventually paid off, getting her into the Silverwing college. It also helped that she was attuned to vitos, water, and earth elements that are all extremely useful for healing magic. Sere: You should be extra thankful and count yourself really lucky. A healing mages services aren''t cheap, and you''re getting treated by one for free. Alan: I will add that you''re not fully licensed and your healing me is still part of your training. So maybe you should be thanking OW! he yelped out again as a sharp pain shot up his leg. Sere: Sorry, what was that. You were thanking me? she said with a smile that hid her intentions. Alan could read the situation. Sere could make this hurt a lot more, so he was not inclined to give her any more sass at the moment. Alan: Y-yeah, thanks Sere: You''re welcome she said while smiling, followed by her expression tuning more serious and solemn. About what happened to Cris yesterdayIs heOK? Alan had an incredibly pained look to him when he was asked that question. Alan: Um, it was pretty bad. They have been treating him since yesterday. They managed to close the wound and everything, they were even lucky enough to reattach his arm. He should have woken up by now, the doctors said, but he hasn''t. They''re not entirely sure why, and are still worried if he will even make it at this stage. Sere: I''m so sorry. Alan: I hate that I can''t do anything for him right now. All I can do is wait and hope he makes it. Sere: Youre not doing nothing. Youre working towards stopping Cid. Once we get enough evidence, well make sure nothing like this happens again. Alan: Yeah There was an awkward silence that arose between them. Feeling uncomfortable, Sere spoke up. Sere: Um, I hate to ask, but do you know what exactly happened yesterday? How did Cris get hurt? Jafar said it had something to do with Cid, but I wasn''t told much else. Um, if you dont want to talk about it, thats fine. Ill just ask Jafar about it later. Alan: Thats OK. What happened was that Cris ward broke during a practice match with Samson Rill, a senior student in the Lionhearts. Sere: Oh, was the attack magic he used on Cris too strong? Alan: No, there was a mishap. The practice ward Cris was using was faulty. It didnt work right, and when Samson managed to hit him with a spell, it went through the ward like paper. It didnt protect him at all. Sere: Thats awful Alan: Yeah, and the protection magic in the arena, that could have also prevented this, wasn''t working right either. The aether crystals in the arena were cracked and malfunctioning, so it didnt activate like it was supposed to. No one noticed it was broken because the crystals were cracked in a way that it couldnt clearly be seen, and most of the other functions of the arena were still working normally, just the critical function of preventing serious harm wasn''t. At least, thats what Samson said. Sere: You talked to Samson? Alan: Yeah, he was at the hospital with me. Waiting to hear if Cris was Ok. He wasbegging for my forgiveness the whole time we were waiting there. Sere: I mean, its not like he meant to hurt Cris. Alan: I know. I dont hold anything against Samson, it''s Cid whos to blame. Sere: How do we know it was him? Alan: Jafar saw him, and far as I know, this has never happened before in a training arena. All the safety measures that were in place failed all at once. What are the chances of that? Unless, It was him, Cid, making it look conveniently like an accident. I don''t know how he did it, but I just know that it was him somehow. Sere: Well get himfor Cris As they finished up their conversation, the door to the waiting room swung open and out walked Jafar. Jafar: Everything is ready and good to go. Sere: Ok, but, um do you mind telling us what exactly were doing? she said as she stopped applying healing magic on Alans leg and stood up. Jafar: Sure, but lets walk and talk. he said while gesturing for his friends to follow him. Alan and Sere followed behind Jafar as they walked through the hallways of J-44. Alan: So who is this guy you said you think could decode Cids note? Jafar: That guy is a girl named Marie Su-Bin. She is the head student researcher in the advanced numerology research team. Sere: Numerology? You mean that magic thats just a calculator. Jafar: It is much more than just a calculator. Numerology can make highly advanced predictions of the future through mathematical equations. Sere: I was always under the impression that numerology magic was incredibly unreliable in making predictions. You''re better off asking a Seer of Argon to predict the future. Jafar: The limitation on numerology is the amount of information you can feed into it. If you have enough data points to punch into numerology calculation, you can predict the future with some degree of accuracy. At least, thats what Marie has told me in the past. Alan: Ok, but what of using numerology magic to predict the future is relevant to decoding Cids notes. Jafar: Using numerology to predict the future is irrelevant. The point is that everyone in the advanced numerology research team is are genius in mathematics, and Marie was nice enough to help out with decoding Cids note, under one condition. Alan: And that condition? There was a brief moment of hesitation from Jafar, but he then blurted out the condition. Jafar: She has bad allergies, and I may have said she could come to you Sere to get some relief from them every once in a while. Sere: Did you seriously offer up to use my healing magic, FOR ALLERGIES. she said, sounding a little resentful. Jafar: Are you not going to do it? Cause, you''re free to try and decode this note yourself. It will only take you a couple years Im sure, he said sarcastically. Sere arms were crossed and she looked grumpy. Sere: Fiiiiine. I guess it can be considered practice. she said with a grumble. Alan: It is for a good cause, besides. Dont people in the Silverwing college have to heal so many people before they''re allowed to even graduate? he said, trying to placate his friend. Alan was referring to one of the main tenets of the Silverwing collage, charity. That college was founded by a highly religious archmage that enshrined rules that required students to heal so many people with their magic for free, failing to do so prevents one from being able to graduate. The idea of doing this is supposed to teach Silverwing students compassion and use their ability to heal and not harm others, and it correlates with many teachings and practices talked about in the Church of Light. Sere: Yeah I just dont know if allergies count. Jafar: Anyways, were here, he said as he stopped in front of a door. Jafar opens the door, entering inside first, with his other friends following behind. The room they were in was quite large, except there was a large metal box like contraption that took up a little over half of the space. The machine had countless wires going in and out of it with a plethora of vacuum tubes sticking out the side. In the one corner of the room were desks for the people of the advanced numerology research team to work at, and sitting at one of those desks working away on a computer was a girl. Jafar: Hey Marie, I''m back, he called out. The girl stopped working at her desk and got up and approached Jaffar. The girl that was presumed to be Marie, had black hair tied into a ponytail and wore a white lab coat and was quite tall at six foot three (1.905 meters). She had freckles and wore thick glasses that made her eyes look bigger than they really were. The magnifying effect of her glasses had on her eyes made it really easy for everyone to see how red and puffy her eyes were, a clear sign of an individual suffering allergies. Marie: Oh hey, so these are your friends. Jafar: Yeah. This is Alan, and this is Sere, he said, gesturing to each of them as he said their names. Marie: Great. So, which one of them was it that could use healing magic? The three of them there thought that Sere blue robes were an obvious statement of who the healing mage was, so they were quite surprised by her question. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Both Alan and Jafar turned their heads towards Sere. Sere: Um, that would be me, she said awkwardly. Marie: Oh thank the light. Can you heal my allergies right now? Ive taken too much antihistamine medications this week and cant take anymore, but my allergies are killing me. It''s so bad I can barely see or concentrate. Sere: Oh, Ok. Um, just hold still for me. And, I just want to apologize if this hurts. Ive never used my magic to heal allergies before. Marie: I dont care if it hurts at this point, as long as I can get some relief. Sere nodded and approached Marie. Sere made a hand gesture while muttering an incantation and a golden light began to emanate from her hands, similar to when she was healing Alan. She then waved her hand around a few inches away from Marie''s head. Both Alan and Jafar watched in silence off to the side while Sere was applying her healing magic. Marie had her eyes closed and made no indication that there was any pain, so Sere continued to use her magic as she was. A few minutes went by and the puffiness and redness in her eyes began to recede. Eventually her eyes returned to normal. Sere: And there. I think you should be good for at least a little while, she said while ending her magic and backing away from Marie. Marie: Oh that hurt so much, but at least I have some sweet relief. Sere: What!? That hurt? And you didnt say anything? Marie: Was I supposed to? Sere: Yes! It is not supposed to hurt. Marie: Ohwell it hurtsextremely, she said, completely deadpan. Sere: Ugh, well next time tell me if it hurts. Im supposed to practice using healing magic so that it doesn''t, and I can''t correct myself if you dont tell me. Marie: Oh, Ok. I''m sorry. I didnt know I was being bad experimental material for you. Sere: Its not experimental material, I mean I guess it kinda is, but not really. I guess, um she was cut off by Jafar. Jafar: Sere, dont even try. And Marie, next time you ask to be healed, be sure to let Sere know if its hurting. Marie: OK. she said, nonchalantly. Alan then leaned down and whispered into Jafars ear, trying to make sure Marie couldn''t hear. Alan: Um, Jafar. Whats the deal with Marie? he whispered. Jafar: She is a bit of an eccentric, dont worry about it, he whispered back. Marie: Well thanks for helping, she said to Sere, before walking back to her desk and began working away on her computer. Jafar: Um, Marie. Are you forgetting something? Marie: Hm? Im I? she said, stopping what she was doing and started to ponder. Jafar: You were supposed to help us. Marie: Oh right. You had some sort of math problem. OK, I have time. I can tutor you guys and help you work through your problem. Jafar: N-no, we need to solve a math equation and help determine if there are any secret messages in it. Marie: Oh, OK. That will be even quicker and easier than tutoring you. That comment somehow felt like an insult to Jafar, even though he knew that she meant nothing by it. For as long as he knew Marie, she had no filter and would just say anything that came to her mind. Marie: Let me see this equation you want solved. Jafar: Here, he said as he handed her the note he took from Cids room. Marie took the note and looked over it for a minute. As she was doing that, the deadpan expression she had maintained the entire time finally broke. She had a look of confusion that then turned to disbelief as she looked up at Cid. Marie: What in the world is this? Jafar: Ugh, dont tell me my assumption was wrong, and its not actually a math equation. Marie: No, it''s a mathematical equation. Its just the most complicated equation I''ve ever seen. There are mathematical symbols in here that are from the eastern continent mixed in, and a bunch more that I have no idea about. However, those symbols I cant identify, I''m still pretty sure there are some sort of mathematical principles behind it. Alan: How can you tell? Marie: Well, if i apply elementary algebra to certain parts of the equation, I can still come to some rudimentary answers that would still be functional within the specific sequence of operations. The explanation she gave flew over Alans head. He had a look of confusion and turned towards Jafar, hoping that he would explain. Jafar ignored Alan and kept on asking Marie questions. Jafar: So can you solve it then? Marie: No, I cant. There are too many unknown variables and functions to this formula. Alan and his friend looked distraught at the answer they got. They were hoping that they could find enough evidence of Cids wrongdoing in this note and take it to the police. Now it was sounding like they were about to start back at square one. Alan: Damn it, he mumbled. Marie: Sorry I cant solve it for you, but if you want, I can run it through this NPA machine and get it solved for you, she said while gesturing to the giant machine in the room. Sere: Wait, you said you couldn''t solve it? Marie: Yeah, thats what I said. Sere was about to make another follow up question, but was cut off by Jafar. Jafar: Can that machine help us? he asked, while knowing the question Sere was about to ask would be pointless with someone like Marie. Marie: Probably, but I know you wanted me to solve this equation for you. So, I understand if you dont want to use this. she said as gestured towards the machine again. Jafar: No, no, no that''s fine. As long as we can solve and decode it. Marie: OK, she said as she walked towards the giant metal machine. She opened up what looked like an over door with a window on the side of the machine, and placed Cids note inside it. She then pressed a button on the side of the machine and a bunch of flashing light started to emanate from the chamber from where the note was in. A minute went by and what sounded like a timer on a toaster rang out. Marie reached into the machine and pulled out the note and handed it back to Jafar. Marie: Here you go. Jafar: So where are you able to solve it? Marie: Huh, no. I just scanned it. The machine working on it right now, and should output the results on this, she said as she gestured to a printer on a nearby table that had a long cable connected that ran into the giant machine. Jafar: How long will this take? Marie: Somewhere between ten and twenty minutes, I think. Sere: Um, Marie. Can I ask a question? Marie: Yup. Sere: What exactly is this machine? Marie: Its a NPA machine. Sere: OKand what is a NPA machine? Marie: It stands for Numerical Predictive Approximation. It is what me and the entire advanced numerology research team has been working on. Sere: So, its a machine that uses numerology somehow, I take it? Marie: Yup. We put a special advanced numerology matrix inside and run it through an advanced computing system capable of compensating for the Verros principle by pure processing power. Everyone present looked confused by her explanation. Jafar: Marie could you explain what this is in simpler terms. Marie: I thought I did? Jafar: Even simpler, please. Marie: Oh, OK, um. Well as you all probably know, numerology is a magic that is capable of predicting the future. The only problem is that it requires a lot of information to get any degree of useful predictions from it. If you dont feed enough data into it, the accuracy of this magics prediction can easily be less than one percent. Does that make sense to all of you? Everyone nodded in response. Marie: Good. Well, this machine is designed to fix the information quantity problem. It does this by using pure processing power to compensate for lack of information. Meaning, we can use numerology magic to accurately predict the future even if we dont have enough data. Sere: Oooh, Ok. That makes sense. Jafar: That sounds really amazing. I know you explained it to me before, but now Im really starting to understand how impressive that is. Alan: I''m still not sure I entirely get it, but I take it that this machine is impressive and can decode that note? Marie: Yup. The parts of the note that cant be properly identified, the computer will compensate for it with pure processing power and will output a solution. And, if there''s a secret message hiding in that formula like Jafar mentioned, the NPA machine can detect it and decode it for us as well. Jafar: This thing sounds like it might be revolutionary if it can do what you''re saying. Marie: Im glad you can see how amazing it is, unlike those higher up. Sere: Are the teachers dismissing your team''s invention? Marie: Baa, those teachers are fools. They still say that the NPA machine is still too inaccurate to be useful. I mean, it can predict what the weather will be twenty four hours from now with 10% accuracy. Alan: Wait, this NPA machine can only predict the weather with 10% accuracy? Marie: Yeah, but those fools cant see how amazing that is. Previously, we could only get 2% accuracy for numerology weather prediction without the NPA machine, but now we got it up to 10% with the machine and they still say its useless. The awe that Alan and his group had for Maries machine started to evaporate. I mean those teachers might be right. If the machine is only right 10% of the time, can you really say its predicting anything? The weatherman can predict the weather better than this machine. Alan quietly thought to himself. Marie: Anyways, we at the advanced numerology research team will prove those teachers wrong and she was cut off by a loud noise. The sound of static and glass shattering emanates from somewhere inside the NPA machine. Each of the vacuum tubes that was sticking out the side of the machine popped and sent shards of glass everywhere. The lights in the room started to flicker and even the light bulbs in the ceiling started to pop one by one until the entire room was left in complete darkness. Another loud sound of something mechanical going wrong in the NPA machine screeched out before everything went silent. Everyone was now standing in complete darkness, as there were no windows in this room. Jafar let out a high pitch eep of surprise as everything was plunged into darkness. Marie: Um, does anyone have a light? she called out to Alans group in the darkness. A dim golden light started to emanate from Sere, as she used her healing magic in a way to generate light from her hands for the others to see. Jafar also followed his friend''s example and produced light with his magic, but it was with a small ball of light that floated near him, a basic type of non-elemental light magic most people in the ember gear college learn. Sere: What in the world was that? she said, sounding a little startled. Marie let out a deep sigh. Marie: That is my bad. I didnt calibrate the NPA machine and it overloaded. The rest of the teams going to be so mad at me. she said, dreading what she would have to tell the other member of her team. Alan: Has this happened before? Marie: Yeah, if you dont calibrate it before you use it, there is a small chance it will overload and blow out the electrical work. Which is what just happened. It was calibrated for weather prediction and not mathematical solvingbut that doesn''t make sense. It shouldnt need to be calibrated for that. Solving a math formula shouldnt use that much processing power. Why did it overload? she said while starting to ponder to herself. Jafar: Can you fix the machine and still decode the formula? he said, hoping that she could. Marie: Hm, it will probably take a week to a month to fix this. Jafar: Damn it, he said, frustrated. It was a rollercoaster of emotion Alans group was going through. First hoping that they could get this note decoded, only to be told it couldnt, and then being told it actually could, to now in the current situation. It was starting to become exhausting. Alan, still standing some distance away from the group, notices something in the dim light. The printer Marie showed earlier had a piece of paper sitting in the output tray. Alan: Hey Maire, that printer that was connected to your machine printed out something. Marie: Oh, did it still output a solution? Let me see. She said as she walked over to the printer and picked up the paper to examine, completely forgetting about the ruined machine. What she saw on the paper immediately shocked her. She looked confused and just looked up at Jafar, unable to say anything. Whatever she saw was unbelievable to her. Alan: Well, what does it say? Marie: Itdoesn''tsay anything. It''s apicture. she said, sounding surprised and confused. Sere: A picture? Marie: Yeah, I-I dont get it. The NPA machine is not supposed to be able to output images Alan: Can i see it? he asked Marie Marie just handed it to Alan and he examined the picture carefully. Printed out of the sheet of paper in black and white was the image of a human skull with a large crack on the forehead. The details of the image were impressive and something about it was disturbing to look at. It felt as though the hollow eye socket of the picture of the skull was somehow looking at Alan. Alan: Ahh, um. Yeah, thats super ominous. It printed out a skull. Jafar: Let me see, he said as he walked up beside Alan, bringing the ball of light that was helping illuminate the room with him. Alan handed him the picture for him to look and examine as well. Jafar: Yeah that seems disturbing. Alan: Wait a second. Jafar, can you bring the light a little closer to the picture? He did as he was asked, and the ball of light flouted a little closer, brightening up the image and making it a little more clear to see. Alan: Look there at the bottom. Theres numbers. Jafar: Oh, yeah you''re right. It is really faded, but its there. Sere: What does it mean? Jafar: I think It''s a date. Midnight three days from now. Sere: A date for what? Is something supposed to happen at midnight on that day? Alan: Based on this image, its probably not something good. Jafar: Does that mean something bad is going to happen three days from now? In the dark lab, everyone looked at each other unsure. No one knew what to make of the mysterious date. Intermission II Late at night in downtown Port Vaal, all was relatively quiet. It was a weekday, so the many establishments that operated in the area had little traffic at this time. Near the center of the city was a large highrise building. It was the tallest building in the city. The floors closer to the bottom were all stores and bars operating in the building, with the upper half all being office space for a major Golgatta banking institution. It was late, so the upper half of the building had most of its lights turned off and seemed to be empty at this time. While lights illuminated from windows in the lower half of the highrise that have bars operating out of them. It was supposed to be an uneventful evening, but the peace was interrupted by the sounds of an explosion. Near the top of the highrise, a massive explosion had just gone off, creating a huge hole in the side of the building. Piece of steel and glass came raining down onto anyone unlucky enough to walk around the street below. Sirens could be heard off in the distance, rushing towards the building where the explosion happened. Near the top of the highrise, black smoke was billowing outwards. Bright red orange flames could be seen and spreading throughout the building, starting from the top to slowly moving downwards on the structure. Within the area the explosion happened was an inferno. Everything was up in flames and standing in the center of it was a woman with bright red hair, the most wanted criminal on the continent, Alexandria Scarlett. She was standing over a man in a fancy suit who had serious third degree burns all over the left side of his body. Burnt Man: W-why? We did nothing against you. Why are you going after us? Scarlett: Its nothing personal. Its just business. Burnt Man: Someone paid you then. Whatever you''re being paid, I''ll pay double, no, triple. Just spare me. Scarlett: Now, you most of all should know that its bad practice to renege on an agreement. she said as she raised her hand. Burnt Man: WAIT! he screamed out. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. It was too late. Scarlett snapped her fingers and the man was engulfed in flames. He let out a scream, but no sound was made. He desperately tried to roll around on the ground to put the flames out, but they didnt go out. After a few seconds the man stops moving and the flames around him would keep burning away and eventually consume him completely, leaving only ash. Once Scarlett confirmed that the man was dead, she turned to her side and spoke to someone. Scarlett: There, its done. Is that good enough for your boss? A man wearing ripped black jeans with a matching black leather studded jacket walked out of the flames. The individual''s face could not be seen, as he was wearing a hood that had a strange darkness that seemed to obscure his face. Hooded Man: You know. You didnt have to blow the whole fucking building up. Scarlett: Well maybe next time you should specify. Hooded Man: I think its kinda obvious. I shouldn''t have to tell you not to destroy entire buildings. Scarlett: Whatever, everyone that your boss wanted dead is now dead. This should be good enough. Hooded Man: Why are all the women I work with fucking nuts? he mumbled to himself. Scarlett: Did you say something? Hooded Man: Nothing, oh wait. Before I forget to tell you, I was supposed to warn you about some strange movement going on in Graheel. Scarlett: Dont bother, I already know. Hooded Man: You know about the increase in police and cult activity? Scarlett: Huh? Are the police and cults becoming more active? Hooded Man: Yeah. Wait, what were you thinking of? Scarlett: John has a new patron. she said with a smirk, feeling a little more superior for having information that this man didnt have. Hooded Man: Oh, thats news to me. Yin will probably want to know about that. Scarlett: Well tell her to keep her fucking hands off him. Ive already taken him under my wing. Hooded Man: Poor sod. he mumbled, while feeling sorry for the person that Scarlett had taken an interest in. Scarlett: What was that? What the fuck are you saying. Speak up and stop mumbling. I cant hear you with all this fire going on. she said, annoyed by the hooded figure mumbling. Hooded Man: Just saying you need to introduce me to this person. Scarlett: In due time. Anyways, get us out of here before the building completely burns down around us. Hooded Man: Yeah, yeah. Just come over here, where there is less fire and I''ll get us out. he said as he walked off to another room with Scarlett following from behind. Chapter 41 - Out For A Drink In this world there exist 6 known elements. Four of them are known as the primal elements and the other two are the celestial elements. The primal elements are the natural forces that exist in our world in a physical form. These forces are observable and the nature of them is not disputed in modern academia. Conversely, the celestial elements are not clearly observable and their nature has been debated for thousands of years. Majority of people are born with some attunement to the elements. That is to say, they can channel the power and nature of an element through their magic. The type of elements people are born with is dependent on the environment they are born into and genetics. The four primal elements are as follows: Fire, Water, Air, Earth. These are the elements that make up our observable world and are the bases for a lot of magic used in modern times. The celestial elements are known as: Necros and Vitos Necros is sometimes called the death element, and Vitos is often called the life element. The nature of these elements are impossible to directly observe and are only studied through observation of their indirect effects they have on the world. The Elements and You by Sam Rork It was ten at night. Crowley was wearing casual clothing with a wide rim hat and was constantly looking downward, trying to make it difficult for passersby to see his face. He was walking through the southside of Graheel on market street. Crowley was trying to be discreet. Normally, it wouldnt be a problem for him to be walking around market street, but the establishment he was heading to required him to hide his identity. He walked by dozens of establishments and people. Some of the people still walking around at this time of night were red in the face and smelled of booze. He tried to avoid eye contact with those people and continued along. Eventually, he made it to his destination. A bar called The Salty Pickle. This was the place Crowley would come to when he wanted to get a drink without being recognized by members of his congregation. He didnt want anybody from the church to know he was going out to a bar. It was technically not against the rules for someone like Crowley to drink, it was just frowned on in the church. Many within the church encouraged sobriety amongst their followers, so seeing one of their religious leaders publicly drinking could cause some minor controversy. A headache he didnt want to deal with. Most of the time Crowley could avoid drinking, but there were times he really needed a drink. Crowley entered the bar and was met with the smell of smoke and a haze in the air. There weren''t really any customers in the bar, as it was still the middle of the week and not many would come out to a bar at this time. It was just what Crowley wanted and timed it that way, a bar without anyone else to possibly see him drinking at. Not that he was worried about that. People that came to this bar kept to themselves and wouldnt pay too much attention to him or look into his identity. The owner of the bar, Jack, a large portly man that was standing behind the bar table, noticed Crowley enter. The man squinted his eyes and stared at Crowley for a few seconds. Jack then had a look of recognition, as he just realized who it was that came into his bar. Jack: Well, well. If it isn''t father Crowley. Crowley: Please dont call me father while I''m here, he said as he approached the bar table and took a seat at one of the bar stools in front of Jack. Jack: Dont worry. Theres no one around today. Crowley: Even so. Could you please not. Jack: Sure, whatever you say. So, whats it going to be tonight? Crowley: Whiskey on the rocks. And, give me the whole bottle, he said with a sigh. Jack: Woah, that bad? he said, as he reached for a bottle of whiskey and placed it in front of Crowley along with a glass full of ice. Jack was quite familiar with Crowley. He would come to this bar from time to time to get a drink and they would talk. Most of the time Crowley would come to get a drink to help manage his stress and he would then vent to Jack. Crowley would never give out any personal information about anyone to Jack, but he still did confide a lot in the bartender. And Jack was a man that was more than willing to allow his customers to vent and listen to their sorrows. Jack was also not one to leak information about his customers to others, and this built a lot of trust between him and his clientele like Crowley. With the familiarity that these two had with each other, Jack could tell that there was something seriously going wrong in Crowley''s life for him to ask for a whole bottle of whiskey. Crowley: You have no idea, he said as he uncorked the bottle and poured the contents into his glass. Jack: Wanna talk about it? Crowley: Nope, he said as he took a sip of his drink. Jack: Huh? Thatsa first. Whats going on with you? he said, sounding concerned about Crowley. Crowley had never been so tight-lipped with Jack before, so it was quite surprising for the bartender to see this. Crowley: Nothing, dont worry about it. Im just not in a talkative mood tonight. Jack: OK, you''re cut off, he said, grabbing the bottle away from Crowley. Crowley: HEY! What are you doing? he said, mad at Jack for taking away his bottle. Jack: Im not going to just sit here and watch you wallow in your own misery. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Crowley: Why do you care? he said angrily to Jack. Jack: I care because you''re my friend. I dont let friends drink themselves to death. Crowley: Im not going to drink myself to death. Jack: For fuck sake. You ask for an entire bottle of WHISKEY. The only people I know that drink that much are the ones that have serious problems. And lets be honest, were you going to stop at one bottle? Crowley just grumbled. He knew that Jack was right, and he wasn''t entirely sure if he was going to stop at one bottle tonight. Jack: I thought so, he said, knowing what Crowley was thinking. Crowley: Fine. Ill go somewhere else, he said, getting ready to get up and leave. Jack: Stop. Whats gotten into you? You''re not normally like this. Crowley: I said I dont want to talk about it. Jack: Why not? Whats going on? Crowley: I dont want to talk about it, or get anyone else involved. Jack: Look, if you''re worried about something leaking to the public, dont be. I know how to keep my mouth shut. So, just tell me whats going on. I hate seeing you like this. Youre a good guy. Crowley let out a deep sigh and sat back down on the bar stool. He looked at the little bit of whiskey still in his glass then at the bottle in Jack''s hand. Crowley: My lips are a little dry. So if you wet them, I''ll tell you what I''m dealing with. Jack raised an eyebrow. He then uncorked the bottle he was holding and topped up Crowley glass. Crowley then took another sip and savored the taste. Crowley: Im being blackmailed. Jack: Someone has dirt on you? Crowley: No, I don''t think so? Maybe blackmail is the wrong term. Someone is trying to make me do something I find unethical. Jack: That still sounds kinda like blackmail. Crowley: Yeah, but the thing is, the one who is asking me to do this unethical thing is coming from the church itself. Specifically, someone higher up from me. Jack: An archbishop is asking you to do something shady? Crowley: I didnt say it was an archbishop. Jack: Yeah, but I don''t know anybody else whos higher up in the church than you, the hand of light. Crowley: Former hand of light, he said, correcting Jack. Jack: Does being a former hand of light affect your authority in the church in some way, where you cant go against an archbishop. I''m not that well versed in church politics. Crowley: It is more complicated than that. The one who is trying to make me go against my ethics has too much support from a bunch of high ranking members in the church. So, I can''t really go against them. Jack: What happens if you go against them? Crowley: I was told they would kick me out of the church. Jack: That''s such bullshit. You are like the nicest priest I''ve ever known and respected. Crowley knew that Jack''s words were genuine. From talking to each other he learned that Jack was not a particularly religious person, it was quite the opposite. Jack was somebody that didnt seem to have much respect for the Church of Light. It was not an uncommon attitude for some to have. Him saying he respected Crowley as a priest had more weight than what one would immediately think. I guess I must be doing something right if even Jack is saying I''m a good priest. Crowley silently thought to himself. Crowley: Thank you for saying, he said, as he took another sip of his drink. Jack: What are those bastards making you do? Crowley: I dont know how to talk about it. Its quite complicated. he said, taking another sip of his drink and then signaling Jack to pour him some more whisky. Jack: They''re not making you steal money or something. he said, as he poured another drink for Crowley. Crowley: Nah. That would be extremely upsetting, but money could be replaced if it was just that. It has to do with church policy changes. It seems like the church is going backwards, and might be undoing some of its policies that prevented discrimination against mutants. he said, unwilling to tell him about the specific of the unsent speaker decrees. Jack: Ah, shit. You guys are really going back to that anti-mutant crap. Are they asking you to kick the mutants out of the church? Cause, I heard the church used to do that kind of stuff and a lot worse in the past. The church historically has not been very good on the issue of mutants. The reaction to people who were mutants would vary from each congregation, from members of the church advocating for compassion toward them, to those who called for outright and complete extermination of mutants. The people who called for extermination, view mutants as corrupted humans. Believing that they have been tainted by nameless gods and now serve those forces unconsciously. Those who hold those beliefs formed a faction within the church called the exterminators, and were extremely violent. They advocate that the only way to save a mutant was to send their souls to the light, a euphemism that meant they would kill mutants. It was only in the last hundred years that the Church of Light standardized its mutant policy across the church as a whole, and started rebuking any calls for violence against mutants amongst its leadership. Beginning a slow, but eventual process of normalizing and treating mutants as people. The number of exterminators in the church had been slowly dwindling through the years. When Sheridan was alive, he was accelerating mutant acceptance within the church. He was the first speaker of light to openly advocate for compassion and fair treatment for mutants. Crowley thought that Sheridan''s actions had weakened the remnants of the exterminator faction, but recent events indicated otherwise. Crowley: I wont let that happen. I wont let us go back to those dark days. But I dont know. What should I do? I cant go against the leadership, but I dont want to betray the mutants in our church either, he said, staring down at his drink, with a look of a defeated man. He then looks back at Jack, directly into his eyes. Sorry. I shouldnt be burdening others like this. Jack: Thats OK. I understand what you might be going through. I had a similar experience to what you''re going through. Crowley: Did you now? Jack: Yeah, I used to work for a boss that made me do some unsavory things. he said, as he recalled his time as a smuggler for the Skull Crushers. Crowley: Huh? What did you do in that situation? he said, sensing that Jack was being obtuse. Jack: I did what I was told. Not proud of it, but not much else I could do at the time. At least, until an opportunity presented itself. Crowley: Whats that mean? Jack: It means I ran. Once an opportunity to get away from that situation appeared, I took it. Crowley: I guess running away is always an option too, but not really in my case. There would be people I would be abandoning if I did so. Jack: I know. You''re too good a person to just run away and abandon others. Thats why hearing what you''re going through is pissing me off. Crowley: I think you''re putting me too high on a pedestal. I am just a man doing his best. Jack: I dont think so. A lot of mutants don''t have much and face so much bullshit in this world thats not fair. You stand by them even so, holding true to your convictions. That takes real bravery. Not something anybody could do. Fuck, hearing one of your passionate sermons on mutants made me wanna believe in the light, especially if the light is sending people like you into the world. Crowley: You heard one of my sermons? he said, with a raised eyebrow. I thought you weren''t the religious type? Jack: I may have popped into one of the sermons a while back. Just to see what it was like, and I must say, your speech skills are really good. Crowley chuckled a little and smiled from the comment. Crowley: Never thought I would hear someone like you say something like that, saying a sermon was good, he said with a chuckle. Jack: Glad I could make you laugh, he said with a smile before turning solemn. I dont know what you should do, but I know youll do the right thing. And, If I could give you a small piece of advice, dont run like I did. The people you leave behind, youll regret it. I know I have. Crowley: I wont. There was one time I ran away from my problems too. So, I know. It really does weigh on us old timers, he said as reminisce about something in his past. Jack: It sure does, but I''m not that old father. Crowley: I thought I asked you not to call me father. Jack: Then dont call me old. he rebuked. Crowley would continue to spend the rest of the night sipping on his drink and thinking about what to do, until Jack finally cut him off, forcing him to head home and prepare for the work he would have to do at the church the next day. Chapter 42 - Prelude To a Revelation Of the three big cults, the Endless War cult is the most straightforward with their intentions. As their name would imply, they seek to perpetuate a never ending war, and will do any means to accomplish this. Why they seek to start a never ending war varies from member to member. Some see warfare as a means of furthering human development, others seem to derive a strange sense of normality from existing in a warzone and wish to preserve it, but most of the membership seem to get some sort of pleasure from combat. The way they recruit new members into their cult is by means of a type of violent indoctrination. They take prisoners they capture in battle and make them fight each other to the death, turning these fights into a form of entertainment for other members of the cult to watch. These prisoners are also forced to pray at effigies of the cults god when they are not in combat. They do this for a long period of time that can go on for months to years, constantly making prisoners kill each other, and for some reason many survivors of this gladiatorial culling end up joining the cult. From one interview from a former member that managed to escape the cult: It was a constant daily affair to watch fellow prisoners being taken away to fight and not return. Even being forced to fight and kill former friends with your bare hands was normal for us. We were constantly killing each other and it just made you numb to killing or being killed. Psychologists have coined the term Murder indoctrination. They surmised that the constant trauma of having to repeatedly kill other people make one more malleable and easier for the Endless War cult to brainwash into joining their ranks. Many believe that the cult was responsible for the political unrest that led to the current civil war in the former territories of Gix, now known as the Warring States. While this is in line with the cult''s beliefs, there is no definitive proof of them causing the civil war, but their involvement in perpetuating it is undeniable. They operate as a very unreliable mercenary group within the Warring States, constantly joining and switching sides in the competing interest of the ongoing civil war. This has resulted in the war lasting much longer than it should have. Writings of Light Scholar Lukka on The Machinations of the Nameless Cults Alan and Sere were waiting in one the private research labs of the Ember Gear collage. The space had all kinds of heavy machinery and equipment, all for students to build and experiment on various kinds of projects. The Ember Gear college was known as the college of engineers, so it was not unsurprising that students from this college would have access to labs full of that kind of equipment. Sere and Alan sat around a nearby table feeling awkward and a little skittish. They were a little apprehensive of all of the machinery around them without Jafar around. They didnt know what most of this machinery was and were afraid of it breaking and being accused of damaging it, so they were not willing to touch anything. The lab they were currently sitting in was booked for today by Jafar.They were the only ones supposed to be here. However, Jafar was missing. They had arrived at the designated time they agreed to meet, but Jafar had yet to show. Sere: Where is Jafar? It was his idea to meet here. Alan: Im sure hell show up soon. Sere: I just feel a little uncomfortable with all this machinery. I would have liked it better if we met in a study room instead. Alan: I agree, but the study rooms are in the library where Cid is. Meeting in the place where hes at would be a bad idea. Sere: I know, she said with a sigh. They were supposed to make a plan of action on Cid today. The date they got from Marie''s machine was rapidly approaching. They didnt know if the date they got had any significance, or was just some strange error, but it was the only information they got to work off. They were convinced that something was supposed to happen that day. Alan suspected that maybe Cid was planning to murder someone else. So they needed to move quickly. They needed real and concrete proof. Their first hand account of seeing Cid at the location of an accident and their bad feelings about him, was not anywhere near enough. The few things they knew about Cid didnt really add up to him being a murder. Strange sure, but nothing really criminal. Just unusual and unexplained circumstances. They continued to sit there waiting for another ten minutes. Sere was continuing to get more antsy as they continued to wait. Sere: Where is he? she said, sounding frustrated. Alan: I wonder if there is a problem. Sere: What problem would that be? she said, sounding a little worried. Alan: I dont know, but he is usually not late. So, this is unusual. Sere: You dont think hes in trouble. Alan: Why would he be in trouble? Sere: I just remembered that he was the one that went into Cids room. What if Cid realized that Jafar went into his room and was after him now? Alan: Jafar said he was careful, he didnt leave anything behind that could be used to identify him. Sere: But, that guy is not normal. What if he had secret security cameras in his room, or knew some sort of weird divination magic. Alan: Lets not panic. If he doesn''t show up in the next thirty minutes, well go looking for him. he said, trying to keep himself and Sere calm. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Another ten minutes went by. They then heard the door to the lab squeak open. They looked towards the entrance expecting to see their friend, but instead it was a brown hair student in orange ember gear robes they didnt recognize. Ember Gear Student: Oh, sorry. I thought that this lab was empty. Alan and Sere let out a sigh of disappointment. Sere: Thats fine. Alan: Hey, have you seen another ember gear student with thick glasses and looks a little unwashed. Ember Gear Student: Um, thats pretty much most of us around here. Youll have to be more specific. Sere: He has ginger hair and a light brown complexion. His name is Jafar. Ember Gear Student: Oh yeah. He was in this lab earlier. He had to step out because a teacher called him. Alan: What for? Ember Gear Student: I dont know. Anyways, I''m just gonna go now. he said, leaving the lab. Sere and Alan then turned back to each other. Sere: Whats that about? Why did a teacher call him? Alan just shrugged, unsure of what it meant. Another five minutes went by and the lab door swung open. Standing in the doorway with heavy breath, was their friend Jafar. Jafar: Sorry I''m late. I ran here as fast as possible, he said while breathing heavily. Sere: It''s about time! Alan: We heard that you were with a teacher. Jafar: Yeah. Sorin Black called me to his office, he said, as he took a seat at the table everyone was sitting at. Sere: What for? Jafar: He was asking about Cris. The university is finally launching an investigation about all the recent deaths. Even the enforcers are now getting involved. It sounds like some of the professors are finally doing something. Alan: Finally, theyre looking into all the deaths. Sere: It was only a matter of time. With so many students randomly dying on campus in such a short time, they would have to take action. Jafar: Yeah. He was talking to me because I was there when Cris got hurt. Ask me a bunch of questions about what happened. I told him everything I saw, minus Cids involvement. Alan: Huh? Why not mention Cid to him? Jafar: Because I dont trust him. It was him and Pitter that tried to cover up the embalming fluid in Edwards body. Sorin doesn''t care about doing the right thing. He is just trying to make the problem go away as fast as possible. If he knew about Cid, who knows, he might even try to cover that up too. If we tell anybody about Cid, its going to be someone higher up. Sere: But before that, we need some sort of evidence. Jafar: Exactly. Alan: Well, all we have is a date, at least, thats what we think it is. While the eerie picture they got from Cids note had numbers on the bottom that look like a date, they were not entirely sure it was. Jafar: What else do you think those numbers are then? They are positioned in a way that looks like a date. Alan: I dont know, but I guess no one has any other ideas. Sere: Its probably best that we assume it is a date for now. Alan: But we dont know for what. It could be for anything. Sere: Maybe hes meeting someone on that day. Alan: Ok, but where then, and with who? Sere: That is a problem. Having a date to something doesn''t mean much if we dont know for what, or where. If hes meeting someone, we could have just staked out the location of the meeting, but since we dont know where it is, we can''t do that. Jafar: Maybe we dont have to know where. We do know that Cid is involved, and we know where he is. So, instead we could just stake out his dormitory. Sere: But what if hes not meeting in his dormitory? Jafar: Then we just tail him. Based on what his roommate said, he still does come and go from there. So once we know hes in his apartment, we just wait outside for him to leave and follow. Hell probably start moving around near midnight, like the date on his note said. Sere: We still dont know for sure if hes meeting anybody. We could wait outside his dorm all night and he might not move or meet with anybody. Alan: I think there will be movement if Cids involved. Think about it. I saw him first when I saved Edward, then again in the newspaper, and Jafar saw him in the training arena. He was present at all of those accidents. And, those were the ones we saw him at, who knows, he probably was there for all the other deaths as well. Sere: Thats assuming he is going to kill someone on that date and make it look like an accident. Alan didnt say anything and just gave his friends a serious expression. But, his friends could immediately tell what he was trying to convey. Jafar: Wait, you actually think hes going to kill someone then? Alan: I dont know for sure. There are still too many things we still dont know. But, my gut is just telling me that might be the case. That image the one that printed out along with the date was notnormal. Even Marie was shaken up about it, and she didnt seem like the kind of person to bother by that kind of stuff. That picture of that skull cant mean Cid intends to do anything good. Jafar: "I guess but we really cant say that the skull the machine printed out is directly connected to Cid. he said, sounding unsure. Sere: That machine printed out a skull after scanning Cids notes. How can you say its not connected to Cid? Jafar: Im not saying its not connected. Im saying we dont know for sure. Marie''s machine broke down after printing that image, so we dont know for sure if it scanned properly or not. Alan: Like you said about the date, we just have to make an assumption since we know so little. We should assume that the picture of the skull is connected. Sere: If he is planning on doing something bad, like killing, then if we stop and catch him in the act, well have all the proof we need. Alan: Exactly. Jafar: The date we got was for tomorrow. So, whatever we decide to do, will have to be now. Alan: Ok. We will meet here again tomorrow. Let''s say at six. Then we head out to the dorm Cid is staying at and find a place to watch out for him. Sere: I think I might be able to get access to the roof of another building beside the dorm. We could watch from there without being seen. Jafar: And I can get us some binoculars that can work at night. Making it easier to watch out for Cid. Alan: Good. And, if it gets dangerous, I can protect us, he said, feeling the need to contribute to this stake out in some meaningful way like his friends. Sere: I dont need your protection, but thanks. With that out of the way, Alan and his friends continued to talk about some other miscellaneous thing for another hour. Afterwards, everyone headed home to prepare for tomorrow. ?????????????????? -Later that same night.- Cid was in the library again doing a bunch of strange actions of moving things into random positions. He walked along the rows of bookshelves before stopping to pull out the Book of Grand Design ''''. Reading through the contents to make sure everything was in the correct position. As he was reading, the writing twisted and shifted into different alien symbols before his eyes. The sudden change didnt bother Cid at all, he was used to this and all too familiar with the strange symbols. Reading the new writing, Cid started smiling. Cid: So they are finally coming after me. Excellent, just as I planned. They thought they hid themselves well, but Ive already noticed. I must thank John. The idea of a trap was an excellent suggestion. With everything Ive been doing, it was only a matter of time before they came." He then chuckled a bit maniacally. Cid: Let them come tomorrow! Once those three show up, it will be over for them! Chapter 43 - Moths to a Flame When it comes to combat magic, the most important thing is Wards. Without one, ya wont last very long in a fight. They take the hits and blows so ya dont have too. Ya can make one around yourself if ya know how to cast wards, but this is hardly a good idea. Ya need to constantly concentrate on it to make it work, and that concentration can be used for a lot of better things in the heat of combat. Instead, ya should get some armor or a charm with a ward enchanted on it. With that kind of ward, all ya need to do is supply it with a steady flow of aether and its good to go, same effect as if ya were to cast it yourself. Not much concentration is required when its on an item. But be warned, wards dont make ya invincible. They can only take so much damage before they break, and when they break, ya lose any protection they could''ve given ya. Youll likely be in a world of hurt when they break. And, if the ward around ya is from an item, when that ward breaks the item is going to break with it. So dont grow too attached to an item with warding magic on it, ya might very well lose it when your ward fails. And dont think ya can carry around a bunch of items with ward enchantments. Wards dont play nice with each other. If ya have two or more warded items on ya, the magic will fight with each other, and your wards can break before you even get a chance to use them. So dont be greedy, and only keep one ward on ya at any given time. Combat Magic 101 by Warren Delk It was ten at night. On the roof of a tall building overlooking one of the Shroom Pact dorms, Alan and his friends were sitting by the edge. The building they were on was a highrise building used by both Silverwing and Shroom Pact students to grow herbs and plants indoors. Being a Silverwing herself, Sere was able to get access to the building even though it was late. And, with no one around at this time, they could easily sneak on top of the roof like they were. Jafar was looking over the edge with a pair of binoculars while both Alan and Sere were sitting off to the side. They were each taking turns watching out for Cid with the binoculars. Alan: You couldnt get us more binoculars, so that we could all be watching at the same time? More eyes on this mean were less likely to miss something. Jafar: Sorry. The binoculars with night vision were actually harder to get a hold of than I thought. I had to beg another Ember Gear student, and could only get one pair, he said while continuing to stare through the binoculars at the Shroom pact dorm. Sere: Its getting close to the time. I hope we havent missed him. Jafar: Dont worry. Hes still in his room right now. Alan: How can you tell? Jafar: Besides that fact that we saw him enter the dorm earlier when we started our stake out and havent seen him come out yet, the lights are on in his window. Alan: You can see the window into his room from here? Can you look and see what hes doing? Jafar: No. He has curtains up. I can only see a little bit of light coming through the gaps in the window that are not covered. Alan: Hmm. I guess that''s another way to tell if hes still in or not. As long as his roommate is not going into Cids room. Sere: He didnt seem like the kind of person to go into Cid''s room. Quite the opposite. He was staying away from Cid. Alan: Yeah you''re probably right. After that exchange, it went quiet between them. There wasn''t much to do for Alan and Sere, since there was only one pair of binoculars and it was too dark for either of them to see much from this distance. The silence was uncomfortable for Sere, so she tried to fill it with idle chit-chat. Sere: Sooooo, how''s life? Alan: Really? Thats the best you could do, he said, recognizing Seres intention. Sere: Give me a break. This silence is killing me. I dont want to just sit here doing nothing. So, talk to me. Alan: What do you want to talk about then? Sere: I dont know. How the day''s been going. Anything interesting happening? Alan: Hmm. I guess I do have one bit of good news that slipped my mind. I went to the hospital to check up on Cris, and they said they discharged him. Sere: Does that mean hes recovered? If so, thats great news! I know medicine and healing magic have come far, but for him to be released from the hospital so soon is a miracle. Alan: Yeah, they didnt tell me any details about his release from the hospital, as I''m technically not family, but Im just glad to hear hes OK. Sere: Did you go to his place to check up on him yet? Alan shook his head. Alan: No. I didnt have time. I was getting things ready for this stake out. And, another thing that I almost forgot. Here, he said, handing to Jafar and Sere each a square metal plate with a bunch of runes carved on it that looked like it almost glowed. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Jafar looked away from the dorm to the metal object that Alan was handing him. He had a confused look on his face. Jafar: Um, what is that? he said, while receiving the object. Sere: Thats a ward. Specifically, a medallion with a ward enchantment on it. Its what combat mages use to protect themselves from attacks. It''s actually quite a good one too, she said with familiarity from the combat training her family made her do as a child. Jafar: So this is like the wards Cris and Alan used when they practice fighting, but better? Alan: Yeah, kinda. I got three for each of us. Just in case there is a scuffle. Sere: We weren''t planning on fighting. Alan: I know. This is just a precaution, in case Cid notices us and attacks. Jafar: Ok, I cant do much in a fight like you two, but thanks. Sere: I wouldnt worry about that. I think if we get caught, we should just flee rather than fight. The wards will still be useful for that, blocking any spells that get fling at us as we run. Alan: That is surprising coming from you. Wanting to flee rather than fight. Sere: Before you try to make one of your dumbass jokes about me being a violent woman, let me say, this isn''t a game or practice. In an actual fight we could seriously get hurt, or even die. Lets not even try. Jafar: Sounds good to me, we dont even know exactly who were dealing with yet. So, how does this thing work? he said, holding up the ward he received from Alan. Alan: That model of ward I gave you is the easiest one to use. You dont need to give it aether or anything. Just keep it somewhere on yourself, and it will automatically activate when needed. Jafar: Thats convenient. Alan: Yeah, but be careful. Those wards are not full proof. Very slow moving attacks can go through it and wards can break when they take enough damage. So, once you feel that the medallion breaks into pieces, it means you''re not getting any more protection from it. Jafar: Good to know. Jaffar then went back to look at the dorm and then gasped in surprise. Jafar: Ah! The light in Cids room just went out. Alan: Does that mean hes moving!? he half yelled, excited about what he just heard. Sere: Calm down you two. It could also mean he just went to sleep. Lets just wait and keep watching and see if he leaves the building. Everyone agreed and waited patiently for any movement. Sere and Alan did their best to watch out for Cid, but it was quite dark and there were not many street lights around the dorm. Only Jafar with his night vision binoculars could clearly see. Ten minutes went by with everyone intensely watching for Cid. Jafar finally saw Cid exit through the front of the dormitory through the binoculars. Jafar: He just came out and is heading east. Sere: Ok, we gotta move before we lose him. It will take us some time to get down from this building. Alan: I have an idea. Make sure you two dont scream, he said while standing up. Jafar and Sere looked up at Alan confused. Alan wrapped his arm under both of his friends arms, and with an impressive feat of his physical strength, lifted them both off the ground at the same time. Sere: What are you doing? she said, sounding worried. Before his friend had any opportunity to ask him more questions, Alan took a step forward, off the side of the building they were on. They all began to free fall. Both Sere and Jafar screamed with tears forming in their eyes. Alan put his hands over both Sere and Jafars mouth to muffle them. He then mutters something and a gust of air pushes from below him, slowing him and his friends into a slow enough descent so as not to hurt themselves. After another minute went by, Alan had safely landed on the ground. He then placed both his friends down. Jafar collapsed while Sere quickly stood up to reprise Alan. Sere: YOU JERK! Why didn''t you warn us you were going to do that! she said, shoving Alan. Jafar: I just saw my life pass before my eyes. he said with a grim expression, ignoring the conversation between Alan and Sere. Alan: It was quicker, and I knew neither of you would agree to let me do that if I told you. Anyways, we dont have time to argue now. We cant lose him. Jafar picked himself up and everyone proceeded to follow Cid from a safe distance, where they knew he couldn''t see them. ?????????????????? Alan and his friends continued to follow Cid for sometime until they arrived outside the university library. From some distance away, hidden, they watched through Jafar''s binoculars as Cid briefly looked around before entering through the front door of the building. Jafar: He just went into the library. he said, while looking through the binoculars. Alan: The library? Why is he going there? Sere: No, that makes sense. Remember what his roommate and the others at the dorm said, hes spending most of his time at the library. Jafar: He also had a bunch of pictures of the library in his room. This place is important to him somehow. he said while putting the binoculars down. Alan: But why now, what is so important at the library that he would come here at this time of night? Jafar: Actually, theres no one here at this time, so it might be the perfect place to meet up with someone. Its where I eavesdropped on Professor Black and Pitter when they had their secret meeting. Alan: Then hes meeting someone, but who? Sere: We''re going to have to go in and find out. Alan and his friends approached the entrance of the building. They looked at the grand door with an intricate design and an aesthetic from another age. Staring at the door, they all realized a problem. They didnt know how to get inside. The doors were automatic and would lock themselves, preventing anyone entering from the outside at certain times. Alan: How did he get inside? Does he have a key? Jafar: No, these doors are enchanted and time locked. There is no key. Once the lock is engaged, only high ranking faculty can open them past curfew with a special type of magic. Alan: Then how did he get inside, he said as he pulled on the handle of the door. Alan expected resistance, but the door just opened for him as he pulled. Alan: "Huh? Its unlocked?" Jafar: Hows that possible? You cant just unlock this. Its magically sealed. There''s a special enchantment on those doors to prevent people from breaking in once the time lock activates. If you try to break in, it will alert security. Did he disenchant the door or something? Sere walked over to the door Alan just opened and looked over it carefully. She then noticed something off about the latch of the door. Sere: Um, guys. There''s gum in the latch. Jafar: What do you mean there is gum in the latch? Sere: Its exactly what I said. Someone put gum in it, jamming it and preventing the bolt on the door from engaging. Alan: Ohh, so if the bolt never engages, then the door never locks. Jafar: And if the door doesn''t lock, the enchantment never activates on the door. Thats actually quite ingenious, he said, sounding impressed. Sere: Yeah and no one ever thinks to look at the latch or try to get in at night, so I guess no one noticed. Alan: Lets head inside and see if hes meeting someone. Chapter 44 - Into the Fire Alan and his friends wandered through the hall of the library building. They were moving through it slowly and quietly, as not to alert anyone of their presence. They carefully approach the corner of each hallway they explored and peek around the corner, making sure they didnt accidentally bump into Cid or anyone else. They were fortunate that every hall was empty. But, there was one problem, they had lost track of Cid. Sere: Where did he go? she whispered. Alan: He might be in the main library. Let''s check that area next, he whispered back. They started heading towards the main area where the books are all stored, all while checking each room along the route. Every door they tried to open was locked. The automatic locking system of the university library also affected the door on the inside as well. They assumed that if it was locked, it meant that Cid wasn''t in that room anyway. Based on what they had learned about the gum in the latch method, it didnt seem like Cid could just open any door. They continued along until they finally made it to the doors of the main library area. The doors had an extravagant design similar to the front door of the building. Beyond those doors were shelves of books and study rooms. Alan slowly reached towards the door and pulled on the handle, trying to be as quiet as possible. Unlike all the other doors they tried to open on the way here, this door easily opened. He then quickly examined the latch of this door. Just like the other door they used to enter the building, there was gum forced into it, jamming the door bolt. Alan: It''s that gum trick again. Jafar: He must be in there somewhere then. Sere: Must be. They then entered the main area of the library. It was dark. The only source of light was from windows and some lights that were embedded into the floor, creating slightly illuminated pathways through the library to walk along. A design to help prevent people from tripping and seeing where they are walking. The darkness that was around them had a strange feeling to it. It felt more ominous, like Alan and his friends were being watched. They slowly walked along the rows of bookshelves, making sure to peek around every corner before walking forward. Looking down the aisles, Alan didnt see anyone. It was too dark to see to the end of the other side. Jafar tried looking down the rows of bookshelves with his binoculars, since they had a night vision function to them. The binoculars gave a green tint to everything he looked at through them. As they were moving along, Jafar saw something move. Jafar: Wait a second, I saw something, he whispered to friends. Alan: What did you see? he whispered back. Jafar: I think I saw someone walk by. Sere: Was it Cid? Jafar: I dont know, they were moving too fast and I couldnt make out any details, but let''s try heading down that aisle where I saw it, he whispered, pointing to the direction he saw movement. They started heading towards where Jafar suggested, doing so as quietly as possible. They eventually came to the end of the aisle. It opened out into the center of the library. It was a wide open space with rows of tables for students to sit and work at. Above there was a giant glass skylight with a giant decorative chandelier hanging from it, letting in the natural moonlight into the area. The light that shined through the ceiling made this section of the building a lot brighter and visible here then the rest of the library. Carefully looking around, they saw what looked like a student in the black and gray robes of the Grayscale collage. It was a girl with dyed purple hair. Beside her was a blond-haired male student wearing the red uniform of the Lionheart collage. Both of them were standing in the center of the library under the moonlight. Alan didnt recognize the girl, but he did the other person. Alan: I think thats Craig? he quietly mumbled. Sere: Do you know one of them? she quietly whispered. Alan: Not personally. Hes a senior in the Lionheart college, but I don''t know much more than that. Never talked to him, just seen him around. he whispered in response. Jafar: He must be meeting Cid here. Otherwise, there is no way those two could have gotten inside. he whispered back. Alan: Yeah, let''s wait and see when Cid shows up. Alan and his friends were confident they couldnt be seen from where they were. So, they decided to stay put and watch while crouching down from around the corner of the bookshelves they were hiding. A few minutes went by and Sere was first to notice something off about these two people. They were just standing there, doing nothing. They didnt say or do anything, just stared off into the distance with a blank stare in complete silence. Neither of them didnt even make the smallest attempt of idle chatter in the time they were being watched. It was weird to watch for Sere, and made her feel a little uncomfortable. Sere: Why are they just standing there doing nothing? she whispered. Jafar: Shhh, I think I hear footsteps. Sure enough, the sound of footsteps could be heard from someone. Looking towards the aisle from where the sound was coming from, they waited with bated breath at the approaching person. Stepping out of the shadows and into the moonlight with the others, was not Cid, but a man in grayscale robes with black hair tied up in a short ponytail, and a light complexion with a sharp look in his eyes. It was a person that Alan and his friends were all too familiar with. Someone they had all talked to recently at one point. It was Sorin Black. Professor of the Grayscale college and teacher of Arcane Law. Alan and his friends were all shocked to see the Grayscale professor here. Sorin briefly looked around, scanning for something, before approaching the two students with the blank stares. Sorin: Well, what do you have to report? he said, directed at the two students. Craig: The subject was safely extracted. The doctors didnt have the time to properly examine the subject, so no one should be none the wiser." Purple hair girl: And, the subject is on his way here. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Sorin: Good. Did you figure out whos killing you? Craig: Unfortunately, no. Sorin: For fuck sake. You guys are so fucking useless. We need to find whoever is doing this, or Im screwed. Hearing this conversation, a memory resurfaced in the back of Jafars mind. A key detail he overlooked at the time. It was when he was listening in on Sorin and Pitters conversation. They shouldn''t be able to smell the formaldehyde either, so hopefully well be in the clear and the Scefers wont suspect anything. The memory of what Sorin said to Pitter echoed in Jafars mind. How did he know that there was no smell? Formaldehyde has a very distinct and pungent scent. Pitter didnt mention anything about the smell. That should have been the first time hearing about the formaldehyde in Edward too, and yet he assumed there was no smell. Like he knew Jafar quietly thought to himself. Jafar''s look of contemplation shifted to that of realization. Jafar: Guys, this is bad. I think I just figured out something major. Alan: Shh, quiet, they''re still talking. Sorin: Anything else to report. Purple hair girl: Yes. I hear someone whispering from over there, she said while pointing towards the direction where Alan and his friends were hiding. Sere: Crap. Sorin: Why the fuck are you standing here then! Go get whoever that is! Alan: Time to go! Alan and the party quickly got up and started to run down the aisle they came from. They were all running at full speed now with Alan leading the way, not worried about being discovered at this point. Jafar looked behind himself to see the Lionheart student, Craig, running after them. Craig raised one of his hands in the air. He mumbled something, and what looked like a floating ball of mud appeared just in front of him. The shape of the mud warped and hardened into a wicked looking spike, before being launched right towards Jafar. It was too quick for Jafar to react. He could only watch as the spike came flying at him. It was only a few inches away from Jafar''s face, before a mostly translucent barrier of energy immediately formed between him and the attack. The earth spike and the energy shield clashed and made a strange resonant sound, before the spike bounced off the shield and lodged itself into a nearby bookshelf. Hearing the familiar sound of a ward being hit, Alan looked behind himself to see what happened. Seeing the attack that was just made against his friend, he slowed down and let the other two pass him. He then chanted something and turned backwards, before launching a massive gust of wind out of his hands at the pursuing Lionheart student. The other Lionheart student saw the wind magic coming at him, and braced himself, but couldn''t resist the attack and was sent flying backwards into the darkness beyond where Alan could see. He then turned back to his friends and picked up the pace to keep up with them. Jafar: HOLY LIGHT! They''re actually trying to kill us. That attack wouldve killed me if I didn''t have a ward, he yelled while running. Sere: Less talking and more running. Were almost Oh fuck. she said as she slowed down her pace. They all stopped running. Blocking their path was the purple-haired Grayscale student, who somehow managed to get ahead of them and cut them off. She had a black stare as she gathered a bunch aether into a ball of water floating in front of her. Trained as she was in combat magic, Sere could tell, based on the amount of aether that was being gathered, the Grayscale girl''s next attack would be powerful enough to punch through the ward Alan had given them. Taking the initiative, she prepared her own countermeasure. Sere: GET BEHIND ME! she yelled, while gathering her own aether for a spell. As she yelled that out, The purple haired girl released her magic onto Sere and her friends. The ball of water expanded until it was as wide as the aisle they were standing in, and came flying at them. There was no way for any of them to be able to dodge the approaching attack. It was too quick to run backwards, and too wide for them to move to the side with the bookshelves in the way. It looked like they were finished, as the attack was probably too powerful for the wards With Sere advance aether control, she was able to construct her own spell fast enough before the water attack hit them. Using a very advanced technique, she mixed the elemental forces of vitos and earth within herself. She then clapped her hands together and unleashed an extremely complex barrier spell right in front of her. Bursting through the floorboards, a wide thick featureless wall made of pure steel rose up about 15 ft (4.5 meters). It completely filled up the width of the aisle in front of them and then some. The water attack collided with the wall Sere had made. A loud boom echoed through the library. From Sere and her friends'' perspective, the wall she made shook a little and some water harmlessly splashed over it, but it held and managed to block the attack. After casting that barrier in such a way, Sere looked tired and sweat was forming on her brow. The magic she just used took a lot out of her. Jafar: Oh, light. Thanks for saving us, but we''re trapped now. We cant go backwards, Craig is still behind us. Alan: Wait, look there, he said while pointing to the side. From where he was pointing, the wall Sere made had knocked over a massive bookshelf. It now leans precariously against another shelf in the next row. Alan: I have an idea. Follow me. he said as he ran over to the bookshelf he pointed to. Alan immediately started climbing up the fallen bookshelf. Sere and Jafar hesitated a little bit, but ended up climbing as well, following behind Alan. As they were climbing, they could hear the sound of more spells colliding with Seres steel wall. They assumed it was likely the Grayscale student trying to break through. Sere couldnt help but smirk, feeling a bit proud about the barrier she constructed. She knew that the steel wall wasn''t going to be broken through easily, not without some serious firepower. Once Alan had climbed on top of the fallen bookshelf, he continued to climb onto the other shelf it was leaning against, until he was standing on top of it. Standing where he was, gave him a better view of the library. He could see the center of the library from there and could make out a lone figure standing in the moonlight, who he assumed was Sorin. He could also see some flashes of light from this position coming from the other side of Seres wall facing the Grayscale student, who was attacking the barrier. Beyond those two things Alan couldnt see much else, as it was too dark to make out anything meaningful. Jafar: Now what? he said as climbed onto the bookshelf. Alan: Now we run to the entrance. Come on! Alan and his friends began running along the top of the shelves. It creaked with each step they took, as these shelves were not meant to be ran on, but thankfully it seemed to support their weight. As they ran along, the sound of spells clashing against Seres wall began to fade off in the distance. They were all feeling confident that they weren''t being followed and that they wouldn''t be blocked off again, like they had with the purple hair girl. They eventually came to the end of the row of the book. Alan grabbed his friends and did the same thing he did with the building he stepped off earlier, jumping from the top of the giant bookshelves that were over 20 ft high(6 meters), then falling slowly with a spell meant to break falls from high places. Once safely on the ground, he put his friends down and they all continued to run. They ran by several study rooms, eventually making it to the hallways. Continuing their pace, the main entrance library that they originally came through was in sight. They all thought once they got out of here, they would be safe. However, the entrance doors swung open to reveal a raging inferno. Alan and crew stopped in their tracks, confused by what they saw. It was almost as if looking into the gates of the fiery nameless abyss that the Church of Light warned about. In those raging flames was the silhouette of someone. There was too much fire to make out who it was. Without warning, the person ran through the door while still surrounded by flames, right towards Alan. This person was impossibly fast. Alan was caught off guard and didnt have time to react. The flaming person punched towards his chest. A slightly translucent shield appeared in front of Alan and made contact with this person fist. However, unlike the attack that was made against Jafar by Criag, this person''s attack didnt bounce off. The shield provided by the ward cracked, then broke into thousands of pieces like glass before dissipating. The attack was too powerful and overwhelmed the ward, it didnt even stop this person''s momentum and the flaming punch continued towards Alan. The attacker made contact with Alans chest, the fire surrounding their fist burned through Alans clothing. The sound of flesh sizzling could briefly be heard from the impact. Alan: Aaagh, he screamed out in pain. Alan was then sent flying backwards from the force of the punch. He smashed against a wall with a loud thud along with the sound of wood splintering, leaving a massive indent where he landed. He was in intense pain and felt dizzy, and was having a hard time hearing things. He thought that maybe he hit his head and damaged his hearing, as the whole world seemed silent to him. His conscience began to fade as he saw his friends screaming and running towards him, all while the flaming person stood behind them. As he stared at the person surrounded by fire, he got a strange feeling. Thoseflameslook so...familiar. Were his last thoughts as he lost consciousness. Author Note: Be sure to check out the next chapter when it releases, for a big reveal! Chapter 45 - The Source Of The “Pests”
Alan started to stir back to consciousness. His whole body ached, but he could feel something warm spreading throughout his chest. It was a familiar feeling to him. It was similar to when Sere was healing his leg. He slowly opened his eyes to see Sere leaning over him with her hands on his chest. She was gritting her teeth and sweat was running down her face. She was applying healing magic to Alan and was struggling while doing so. It was the steel barrier she created earlier while being chased. She had given up efficiently for speed in the casting of that magic, and that cost her most of her aether for the day. She was now running on fumes and even the most basic of healing magic was exhausting for her. But, she persisted, for her friend. Sere: Its gonna be OK, so stay with us. she said with a quiver in her voice. Alan: Sere? he said, looking up at his friend feeling confused. Sere: Thank the light, hes awake. she said as she pulled her hands back and stopped applying healing magic. Sorry, thats all I can do for you, but you should at least be stable now. Alan: What happened? Ow. he said as he tried to get up. Alan could feel a sharp pain in his chest as he moved. He was still in really bad shape from the attack he took before he lost consciousness, making it difficult for him to move. Sere: Careful now. You have several broken ribs. Jafar, come help me sit him right. Jafar came into Alan''s line of sight. He didnt say anything, but he could tell that his friend was extremely terrified. Sere and Jafar grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him upright. He grunted in pain, as they put Alan''s back up against a nearby bookshelf. Now upright, he could see where he was. He was back in the central area of the library with the skylight and chandelier overhead. Standing over him in the moonlight, watching, was the Lion heart student Craig and the purple hair Grayscale student that he did not know the name of. They didnt say anything, they just stared blankly at Alan and his friend. Alan was still a little dazed, and it took him a little bit to put everything together, but he somewhat figured what was happening. Alan: So we didnt get away. Sere: No Alan, theres something you need to know about who attacked you she said, before being cut off. Sorin: Theres something I need to know first. he said, as he walked into Alan''s vision out from a nearby row of bookshelves. He carried himself with authority only given to high ranking faculty members. The look on his face showed curiosity directed at Alan and his friends. He had his arm crossed as he looked down at them. Sorin: Why are you here? Alan didnt know what to think about Sorin at this moment, it was him that set those other two students upon them, and they went about it with murderous intent. So he didnt trust him. Alan just looked at both Sere and Jafar, unsure what to say. He didnt know if they were supposed to tell the truth or not at this moment, and looked towards one of his friends to take the lead. It was Sere that spoke up. Sere: We were working in a study room, and overheard something and came out to check. she said, opting to not tell him the truth. Sorin: This late at night? Sere: Yeah, we got permission from the librarian as long as we cleaned up. she said, constructing a lie based on how Jafar ended up staying late in the library before. Sorin: And why would you be working on this late? Sere: We were studying. Sorin:Studying for what? Exams are over. Sere: For a thesis. Sorin: A thesis? Ha. Youre very bad at lying. You expect me to believe that first years from three different colleges were working together, late at night after curfew I might add, to write a thesis. Sere: Then why are you here? Sorin: Dont try to change the subject. And, I dont think you''re in any position to be asking me a question, young lady. Anyways, I''ll be taking you to my office to discuss the next course of action and possible expulsion for trespassing. Jafar: You''re going to kill us, aren''t you? he said, finally speaking up. Sorin raised an eyebrow at Jafars response. Sorin: Now why would you say such a thing? As a teacher, Im supposed to be looking out for the well-being of our students. If you''re talking about Loren and Craigs action towards you, they will be facing their own punishment. he said while gesturing to the two students with blank stares. Jafar: If you actually cared about our well-being, you would be taking Alan to a hospital for his broken ribs, not your office! And, I already know that youve been covering up the deaths, so people wouldnt find out about the formaldehyde in the people that died. You already did so with Edward. Sere: What? Jafar: Yeah, I just figured it out. When he was talking to Pitter, he was talking about Edward''s body having no smell of formaldehyde, despite supposedly being the first time hearing about it. There was no reason for him to assume that, unless he already knew. Sorin: Tch he clicks his tongue in annoyance. Oh, Ember Gear students, always too smart for their own good. I was going to be nice and kill you three without you knowing, but I guess not. It also seems that this library is not a good place to meet, since it sounds like you heard that conversation with Pitter, unless he''s the one that told you, in that case Ill have to get rid of him too. Alan and Sere were both completely surprised at what was just said. Sere: Huh?! But why?!? Why are you doing this?! she yelled out, shocked at the revelation. Sorin: Why dont you ask your little Ember Gear friend there. Jafar: Ugh, I-I havent figured that part out yet. Sorin: Maybe not as smart as I thought, but I should have figured that, oh well. Ill tell you why, since you three are going to die anyway. The reason is simple, its was all he said before getting interrupted by someone else''s voice. ???: I searched the area and couldn''t find anyone else, the familiar voice said. Stepping out of the shadow was someone that Alan didn''t expect to see. The shock at the revelation of Sorin was nothing compared to the person he saw. Standing at six feet with brown hair and red robes of the Lionheart collage with a pale, sickly complexion and arm recently reattached, was Cris. Alans childhood friend. Alan: W-what!?! Why are you here!?!? he half yelled out in surprise. Sere: Alan! she called out to her friend. It was Cris that attacked you. He was the one surrounded in fire that sent you flying, almost killing you. she said, with a quiver to her voice. Alan: Ah, huh?! B-b-but, why? Cris, why are you doing this! he yelled out to his friend, causing himself to wince in pain from yelling with broken ribs. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Cris didnt respond to Alan. He remained expressionless with his sickly pale complexion while facing Sorin. Sorin: I wouldnt bother wasting your breath on this one. Hes been dead for a long time now. Alan: What are you talking about? Hes right here in front of us. Sorin: How do you think these people are walking around with embalming fluid in them? None of them are alive. They are all works of my necromancy. Jafar: Thats not possible. The undead are mindless. he rebuked Sorin, not wanting to believe that Cris was undead. Sorin: Again, with the Ember Gear student showing his knowledge. Your right, undead operate at best on basic instincts, but these ones. he said while gesturing to three students with blank stares. These are what I call living dead dolls. Not quite dead, but not quite alive. There are undead that can impersonate themselves, as if they were still alive. Jafar: HowC he was cut by Sorin. Sorin: Hows that possible, you might ask. Simple, with spirit binding magic. I rip their souls out while keeping their body intact. Then inject some embalming fluid to keep them from rotting from the inside out. With the brain perfectly intact, these special undead can draw on the remnants of their ego and memories, acting like how they were when alive. Heck, they can still even use the same magic as when they were alive. Alan, Sere, and Jafar were all shocked at what Sorin had just said. Sere: You monster! You ripped their souls out and tortured them! She yelled, outraged at what Sorin just stated. Sorin: Well, I didn''t bother to keep their souls like what spirit binding magic is meant to do. I let those dissipate, as it was their bodies that I was after. Bodies belonging to some very interesting individuals. Jafar: Students with connections to powerful people. If what you''re saying is true, then you have complete control over them and will do whatever you say. Sere: And if they still act like they were alive Sorin: Exactly! Its the perfect plan. I gain power over every facet of society through the shadows by controlling my living dead dolls, and no one will even notice the change I did to them. Tell me, your friend Cris has been like this for over six months, and did you notice? Saying that its been six months ago since Cris was turned into an undead, meant that this had been happening long before the series of mysterious deaths. Alan, thinking back on his interaction with his friend, realized some discrepancy. Cris seemed to never get tired, continuing to practice even after sparring with him with an unnatural amount of stamina. Then there was when they went out drinking, no matter how much he drank, it didnt affect him as if his body didnt metabolize it. These things were small and could easily be overlooked as nothing, but with what Sorin was saying, it put everything into a new context. He rejected this. Alan didnt want to accept what Sorin was saying. Alan: Why Cris? Hes not an important person. Hes just a normal guy! Sorin: Not that normal, he was on his way to being an honor student long before I acquired him. I then accelerated that process, pulling some strings, and got him into the Arcane Eye collage. The only college that I still dont have one of my undead in. Alan: What is so important about the Arcane Eye college? Sorin: Why dont you explain it to your stupid friend. he said, directed at Jafar. Jafar: I-Im not sure he said, unsure why the Arcane Eye college was important. Sorin: Ugh, I should stop overestimating your intelligence. It''s because the authority I have is only tangential. None of my undead are in a position of power themselves. Their parents and guardians are the ones that have power, and while I can influence them, it doesn''t give me direct control. Thats why I need someone in the Arcane Eye college. I continue to pull some strings and get Cris here though that college, building up his prestige, he said while gesturing to Cris. With my help, I can probably get him recognized as something like an Archmage in a few years. A position that holds real power, he then chuckled. Hell be the youngest archmage in history since the tri-mages. Alan: Archmage he mumbled, recalling that promise he made all those years ago. Sorin: Oh, yeah. That was yours and his dream, right? Well dont worry, Ill fulfill it for you, he then turned to the three undead students. You three, pick them up and take them to my lab. The two undead students, Craig and the purple girl hair girl that Sorin called Loren, walked over and grabbed both Sere and Jafar. Sere: Hey! Let me go! she yelled out, trying to fight back, but didnt have enough aether to do so. Jafar struggled as well, with a look of fear in his eyes. He didnt know any decent spells to fight back, as he was never trained in combat magic, so he simply just struggled as he was grabbed by Loren, who seemed to have an unnatural amount of strength, likely due to her being undead. Cris walked over to Alan and loomed over him. Alan was too hurt to fight back, and even if he wanted to, he still couldn''t fight his friend. Alan tried to rationalize it away, and tell himself that it wasn''t his friend anymore, to keep fighting, but he couldn''t bring himself to. Even if everything Sorin said was true, It still would be the remains of his best friend that saved his life all those years ago when they fled their home. Cris: Alan, Im sorry. Y-y-you have to fight, the undead said, struggling to do so. Sorin: Hey! I didnt say you could speak! Ugh, those doctors must have messed up my magic when they were trying to heal you. Cris didnt move and just stared blankly at Alan. Alan: Cris! Are you still there?!? Please, help us! he yelled, hoping that his friend was still there somewhere. Sorin: Your friend is already dead! Thats just some leftover ego coming through from my magic on him being messed up from the hospital. Ugh, this is so frustrating! Whoever the fuck is publicly killing my living dead dolls is screwing everything up. Jafar had a realization at what Sorin just said, he did not know about Cid. It sounded to Jafar that Sorin realized the accidents on his undead were purposeful, but he didnt know who it was. He thought quickly of a way to use this to their advantage. Jafar: Wait! If you kill us, youll never figure out whos killing your undead! he shouted out to Sorin. Sorin stopped and looked at Jafar, struggling against Lorens grasp, with a raised eyebrow. He had an expression that displayed he didnt entirely believe what Jafar was saying. Sorin: You know who killed my undead. Bah, yeah right. Whoever is doing this is a professional, making it look like an accident every time, and always conveniently targeting my undead when there are a bunch of people around to see it. No, I don''t think a bunch of kids know anything about that. Jafar: Then how did we know about the embalming fluid? We clearly know more than you expected. If you kill us, you might miss your chance to find out who killed your live dead doll things. Sorin: Drop him, he said to Loren. Loren did what she was told, and let go of Jafar immediately. She had let him go so suddenly that it caused him to trip and fall, landing on his ass. Now sitting on the ground, he stared up at Sorin who was glaring at him intensely. Jafar''s plan was to try and delay Sorin as long as possible. Hoping that if he gave Sere enough time to recover her aether, she could do something to help them escape. It didnt seem like a great plan, but it was the best he had at this moment. He was about to say something when Sorin kicked him in the gut. Jafar gagged and almost threw up. He clenched his stomach in pain and tried to recover, but Sorin continued to kick him again, and again. Sere & Alan: Jafar! his friends yelled Sorin: You think I don''t know what a little shit like you is doing! You think you''re buying yourself time with your bullshit, but you''re just making it worse for yourself every time you open your fucking mouth! he yelled at Jafar while continuing to kick him. Sere and Alan could only watch, as their friend was beaten before their eyes. Alan tried to collect his aether, trying to use a spell to stop Sorin, but couldnt do it. He was too hurt to cast any spells and Sorin was a senior professor at the university, meaning he was more than proficient in magic, and could easily counter whatever spell Alan could throw at him even if perfectly healthy. Sorin: Do you have any idea how much of a pain in the ass it was to get Cris out of the hospital without anyone knowing about his undead nature! And of course, the others had to die in a public manner, where everyone saw them! So, I can''t just patch them up, making them good as new, or people would start asking how they''re walking around after seeing them get their necks snapped or their skulls smashed open. Fucking months of work down the drain! he yelled while continuing to kick Jafar. Jafar was looking bruised and badly beaten, but Sorin didnt stop and continued to kick a few more times. Eventually Sorin stopped and bent down toward Jafar, who was still on the ground. Sorin then grabbed him by the hair and pulled him up to his face. Jafar now had a swollen black eye and a little bit of blood running down the side of his face. Sorin: And you think you''re so smart, that you can bargain with me. Heh. Well, once I rip your souls out and turn all three of you into my undead, youll tell me everything I want to know anyways. Remember what I said, my undead retain their memories. Should have thought about that before you opened your mouth. Sorin then just dropped Jafar on the ground and then gestured towards the purple-haired girl to pick him up. She did as she was ordered and scooped Jafar up, with no resistance. Sere wanted to reach out and help her friend, but Craig continued to hold her back and restrain her. Sorin: Sigh, such a waste these new undead will be. Not that special in any way. Well, I guess the silver-haired girl''s uncle is someone important. Might not be completely worthless, he said to himself, talking about his plan for Alan and his friends. It was starting to look as though Alan and his friends were about to be killed and turned into undead by Sorin Black. All of them were terrified at what was to come. It was all over, but then they heard the approach of someone else. ?????????????????? -A minutes ago- Cid was standing behind a bookshelf, not too far from where Sorin and his undead were gathered. He had been listening to the entire conversation that was being had between the Grayscale professor and those three other students that had sneaked into the library. He didnt show any emotion at anything he just heard. Cid just pulled out a watch, holding it up to the moonlight, and checked the time, watching intensely as it slowly ticked away. Eventually, the time on it read 11:59. Cid then breathed in deeply before letting out a long sigh, and then putting his watch back into his pocket. Cid: Well, I guess its time, he said as he walked out into the open space at the center of the library. Chapter 46 - Cid’s Design Tap, tap, tap, the sound of footsteps getting louder as something was approaching. Those footsteps echoed throughout the library, the weights they carried were heavy, almost unnaturally so. For the person making them was not someone of a stature that reflected the sound they made. Sorin had stopped gloating at Alan and his friends, looking to see who was the one walking towards them. From behind a bookshelf, walking out of the shadows and into the moonlight with his green shroom pack robes and brown hair, was Cid. He had a deadpan and uninterested expression, but there was an almost strange sense of confidence to him as he slowly walked toward the group of people gathered around Alan. He eventually stopped walking, with some significant distance still between him and everyone. He then intensely examined each person there before his gaze fell upon Alan. His eyes slightly narrowed before falling back onto Sorin. Sorin: And who are you supposed to be? he asked, curious about Cid''s sudden appearance. Cid: Im no one in particular. Sorin: Tch, he clicked his tongue in annoyance. One of your friends that was hiding I assume, he said while glaring at Jafar, who was slouching while being held up by the purple-haired undead girl named Loren. Jafar just looked away from Sorin with his bruised face, afraid that he might get beaten again if he tried to say anything else. Sorin: No matter. I dont know where you were hiding, but you should have kept hidden. Craig, drop her and deal with him for me. Oh, dont bother taking him alive. Im pissed now, so just kill him. A fungal student is useless anyways. he said, referring to Cid by his college with a common insult used in the university. Craig did as he was ordered and let go of Sere. For a brief moment she was free, but then Sorin muttered something and arcane chains shot up from the ground beneath him and wrapped around Sere, restraining her. She tried to pull away, rattling the chains in the process, but she was completely bound to where she was. She could feel the aether in her body being suppressed, and then recognized the spell Sorin was using on her was an advance binding spell. It was one design by the Grayscale college, specifically to seal away another mages magic and restrain their movements. Cid stared down at Craig, not moving or expressing any emotion at his approach. Craig casually walked towards Cid before turning into a full sprint, his speed enhanced by magic to inhuman levels. As he was dashing toward Cid, he muttered an incantation and mud formed and clung around his right hand. It then hardened into what kinda looked like a stone gauntlet with razor sharp spikes on the tip of the finger. He was preparing to swipe at Cid with his earth clawed hand. Craig speed was enhanced with earth elemental force, while not as fast as if any other element was used, it still was capable of increasing speed beyond the human limit. But, magic that uses the earth element also usually makes things heavier. Craig was no exception to this rule and his weight had increased several times. As he was running towards Cid, the floor creaked below from each of his footsteps. One of the floorboards he had stepped on couldnt handle Craig''s weight, combined with the force he was pressing on it, causing the wood to collapse beneath him. The nails on the opposite side of the floorboard popped out and the plank of wood flipped up to hit him square in the face. The wood smashed into pieces against Craigs head and the undead lost his balance from the impact, causing him to flip his whole body 180 degrees into the air. He then landed on his head with enough force to crack his skull open, but it didnt didnt stop there. He was sprinting before he fell, so the momentum continued to carry him forward. Craig slid across the floor with his now exposed gray-matter grinding against the ground, leaving a smear of blood in his wake. He slid towards Cid, who casually stepped to the side, as Craig continued past him. Eventually, a few feet away from Cid, his body stopped sliding. He just laid there limp, and unresponsive, likely now just a regular corpse based on the damage that could be seen. Cid looked at the unresponsive Craig with disinterest before facing back toward Sorin. Clearly not surprised at what just happened. Alan and his friends just stared at Cid, completely shocked at what they just saw. I-Its just like with Edwardlikehe knew. Alan silently thought to himself. Sorin couldnt help but facepalm in frustration at what just happened. Sorin: Ughhhh. I know he was dumb when he was alive and dumber still as an undead, but really? Definitely the most useless of my undead. Loren! Drop the orange hair shit and deal with this! he shouted towards the purple hair Grayscale student while pointing at Cid. Loren dropped Jafar, who just collapsed onto the ground beside her. Jafar looked up to see Loren waving her hand around and a dozen balls of water began forming and floating in front of her. The balls of water changed their shape into that of a spike, and were then hardened as the water froze. A dozen shards of ice now floated in front of her, and with a flick of her hand, they were launched forward toward Cid. The ice shards flew through the air, leaving a trail of misty condensation behind them. Cid didnt move and just stood perfectly still as they came flying at him. With the sound of a slight hiss as the ice shards cut through the air, every single shard missed, some flying by Cid''s face by mere inches. The shards continued past him leaving a bunch of them embedded on the ground and in a nearby bookshelf behind Cid. Sorin was left astonished that Cid was standing perfectly still, and yet, every one of Loren''s ice shards had missed. Sorin: How the fuck did you miss him! Is your brain starting to rot like Craig? Deal with this already! he yelled. Loren gathered her aether and clapped her hands together before separating them and facing her palms forward. A giant sphere of water started to form in the air in front of her. It was the same attack that she had used against Alan and his friends earlier. The sphere of water continued to expand in size until it was about six and half feet (2 meters) wide. Everybody close to her could feel the immense amount of aether that was being put into this spell. Alan and Sere could tell that this attack would be even more intense than the one she used against them. The giant floating ball of water, like a soap bubble, suddenly just popped. The water in the sphere completely vanished as a result. For the first time since Alan and his friends saw Loren, her deadpan expression finally changed. She looked shocked and surprised. She then unexpectedly, and slowly, fell forward, collapsing on the ground. She fell not too far away from Alan. She had one eye open staring at him. Her complexion was becoming strange, it was rapidly turning as purple as her hair. It felt strange and unsettling for Alan as she stared at him. Everyone waited for her to move, but she just laid there limp, similar to Craig.
It seemed she was dead. Sorin and everyone else there became confused. Sorin: W-what? he said, while looking down at the purple-haired student. Sorin recognized what was happening to Loren. It was a type of rapid necrosis caused by a bad application of necromantic magic. It was what was turning her flesh and skin purple, as it was rapidly beginning to rot. And, while he knew what was happening to his undead, he didnt understand why. His living dead dolls were perfect in his mind, and didnt believe that it was him applying necromancy poorly, yet she was still showing the signs that it was. He stared intently at Loren before Sorin looked up at Cid, tilting his head slightly, looking confused. Sorin: It was you, wasn''t it? he said, concluding that Cid had something to do with what happened. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Cid: Actually, no. It wasn''t me. It was all her. She miscast. Sorin: Miscast? Cid: Yeah. You know, when you miscast a spell there is a chance for an aether backlash, where the aether violently flows back into your aether veins from a failed spell. And, you and I know thats normally not too big of a deal. Might just leave someone unable to use aether for a few minutes to an hour, but thats only true for a LIVING person. Sorin: If the aether flows back into the body like that, then it might affect the necromancy animating the dead. Empowering the necromancy magic and making it too strong and unstable, resulting in the magic collapsing, he said, muttering to himself. Butno. NO! Thats not possible! Even if she miscast, it doesn''t necessarily result in aether backlash, that rarely happens. And, even if there was an aether backlash, that doesn''t necessarily mean it would affect the necromancy animating her. Cid: But it could, and it did. Sorin: But wait. How do you even know it was an aether backlash? Thats not something you can figure out by just looking. Cid just smiled as Sorin asked that question. Cid: Because everything that has happened was part of my design. Every action that I took and every thing that I moved into place was all for this moment. From my presence here, to the undead I removed publicly for all to see, to the accident that sent one of your undead to the hospital. Everything was to bring you here, trapped within my design. Upon hearing that, it took a few seconds for Sorin to process what Cid had just said. Sorin: It was you you''re the one whos taking out my undead! WHY! AND, HOW IS ANY OF THIS HAPPENING!! he yelled, frustrated by a feeling of a lack of control and an inability to understand what was happening before him. Cid: I already told you. Everything that I say and do is with purpose. It is part of the design. Even talking to you right now like this, is all meant to keep you standing exactly where you are. Sorin: Wha he briefly said, before he was interrupted by the sound of metal snapping. Above Sorin was a giant cylindrical chandelier that was about fifteen feet in diameter (4.5 meter), weighing hundreds of pounds. The chains that were holding it aloft all snapped at once and it began to fall downward. Sorin looked up to see what the sound he heard was. He had time to gaze at the rapidly approaching glass and metal decoration, but was too surprised to react. With a loud bang and shattering of glass, the giant chandelier fell on top of Sorin, forming a pile of shattered glass and bent metal with him completely buried underneath it. Blood immediately began to form and pool around the base of the fallen chandelier. Alan, Sere, and Jafar were already shocked by the two undead being destroyed, and still further surprised by what had just happened to Sorin. A senior professor of the Grayscale collage, a highly respected mage of arcane law with mastery over incredibly powerful binding magic, someone of significant magical ability in the world of mages, dead by a chandelier falling on him. Right after it happened, the chains binding Sere evaporated and crumbled into nothing. Without the caster channeling aether into the spell, it was undone. Staring at the pile of glass and metal, Alan remembered the image he got from Maries machine. It was that of a skull that was smashed in on the forehead. He couldnt help but feel that the skull was supposed to be Sorin, whose own skull was probably smashed open and crushed beneath that giant light fixture, just like in the picture. Cris started to unsteadily rock back and forth, before collapsing right beside Alan. Alan: CRIS!! he yelled out, as he desperately tried to crawl towards him. The source of the magic animating Cris was Sorin, who was no longer alive. The necromancy holding Cris together was now gone, and Cris was becoming just a normal corpse. Alan got a little closer, but the pain from his broken ribs was too intense and couldnt move anymore. He was only a few feet away from him and desperately tried to reach out with his right hand. Alan: Please, Cris. Dont die. I can''t do it. I cant keep our promise. I-it has to be you. he said, as he teared up, recalling a promise they made to each other years ago. Cris'' slowly turned his head and stared at him blankly. His complexion was starting to turn as purple as Loren. Through whatever was left of the Sorin magic, he spoke. Cris: Youllbefine he whispered with his final words, from what was left of his ego, as the last of the necromantic magic faded from his body. Alan: Please no! Sere! Please do something! Use your healing magic on him! he begged with tears running down his face. Sere was standing not too far away, looking at her friend Alan desperately trying to reach out to Cris. She didnt say anything. She was completely focused on trying to hold back her tears. Seeing her friends like this was devastating, and she knew if she said a single word at this moment, she would break down. She didnt move or bother to act on Alans request to heal Cris, as she knew it wouldnt work. Even if Sere was to muster up whatever aether she had left and try to heal Cris, healing magic cant bring back the dead. Jafar was off to the side, trying to get up, but was struggling to do so. The beating he received from Sorin had torn some muscle in his leg, making it hard to stand. He wanted to desperately go over to his friend and try to comfort him. Tap, tap, tap, the sound of those familiar footsteps getting louder as Cid was approaching. Everyone still there tuned to look at Cid, who they all had forgotten about for a brief moment. Sere quickly regained her composure and stepped in front of friends, preparing to protect them. She was the only one that could fight and wasn''t out of commission. While Cid killing Sorin was a blessing in a way for them, she knew it didnt mean that Cid was friendly. What she had just seen only made Cid more mysterious, and his intention beyond comprehension for her. She gathered what little aether she had and made a tiny ball of light, about the size of marble, in the palm of her hand. Sere: Stay back! she yelled out. Cid didnt respond and just kept walking toward her. Sere took aim and shot her spell forward. She intended to miss him, this was just meant to be a warning shot, but her spell didnt even manage that. As the ball of light flew through the air, it faded away into nothingness, not even reaching half way towards Cid. She didnt have enough aether to cast a proper spell. Between healing her friend and the rushed barrier spell, she was running on near empty, and the attack spell she used didnt have enough aether to sustain itself long enough to even get close to Cid. Cid kept walking forward until he stopped just in front of Sere. He was only slightly taller than Sere, but it still felt like she was being looked down upon by a giant monster. Cid: You three and that corpse were not part of my design. he said, referring to Cris as a corpse. Sere: W-what do you mean? Cid: Three times now. Three times that you have evaded my design and have altered it. Once when you saved Edward, he said while looking at Alan. Second when you sneaked into my room, he said as he looked at Jafar. And thirdly with your very presence here, he said while intensely staring right into Seres eyes. So, what should I do with you now that youve seen what you have? Sere: P-please let us go. W-we wont say anything. she said, sounding scared. Sere recognized she had no hope against Cid right now. The comment about him knowing that they were in his room, implied he knew about their activities, meaning they cant just say they ended up here by coincidence and hope hell let them go because of it. Then there was the fact he killed Sorin, a mage of impressive magical ability and might, not someone that could be easily beaten in a fight. If he can kill Sorin, then there is no way she would stand a chance, even if she has access to her regular amount of aether. All the strange things that happened around Cid that kept all those attacks missing him, and causing Sorin and his undead to die, she still did not understand how Cid was doing any of this. There was no incantation or any fluctuation in aether from Cid when all that happened. She had no idea how to fight against this strange unseeable force that Cid seemed to command. Cid: Dead men tell no tales. Her face immediately turned pale. Oh light. Is this day I will return to you? Sere thought to herself, preparing to face her and her friend''s demise. Cid: But, scared men say anything, including lies. So, heres what is going to happen. You are going to go talk to the university leadership and tell them everything youve learned about Sorin and his little necrotic fetish. You will tell them you were suspicious of Sorin due to the conversation he had with Pitter and started following him around, eventually following him into the library this night, where you were discovered and were forced into a fight. Against all odds, you managed to distract Sorin long enough to drop a chandelier on him. That is the story you will tell them, and you will not mention me at all, to them, or anyone. Do you understand?" Sere swallowed her saliva and just slightly nodded. Cid: Good. You can take the credit for stopping him. Also, it should go without saying, but I will say it. If you tell anybody about me, I will know, and you will die. With that, Cid turned around and began walking away from Sere and her friends. Eventually, he was out of sight, but they could still hear the tapping sound of his footstep off in the distance. Once Cid got far away enough and Sere could no longer hear his footsteps, all the tension in her body released and she collapsed onto her knees. Everyone still there felt the same as Sere. They had all come into a hairs length with death. The danger from Cid somehow felt more intense than what they felt with Sorin. Eventually, Sere got back onto her feet and helped get her friends to the hospital. ?????????????????? In the coming days, people would discover a dozen more high profile students that had all mysteriously collapsed and died, all of those who were secretly Sorins undead. With Sorin''s death, the necromancy animating them was undone and those students turned back into normal corpses. Alan and his friends did exactly what Cid told them to do, and told the heads of the university everything that they were supposed to say. The university leadership rushed in to handle the media storm this caused and tried to control the narrative. The head of the Arcane Eye collage, Lazarus Vaal, made a public statement and said they were doing everything to ensure students safety and were looking into this. One of the ways the university managed the fall out of this event was to focus on Alan and his friends'' role in it all. They played them up as heroes, hoping that it would help distract from the fact that one of their professors was using necromancy on their students. Nothing would be said about Cid. Alan and his friend still vividly remembered his threat, and with what they had seen him do, were all too scared to say anything about him.
Intermission III
In the small town of Corpa on the border of the Agado Swamplands, there was a commotion. A man in brown dirty clothing was running through the main street carrying a small girl wrapped in white cloth. The cloth the girl was wrapped in was covered in blood. The man made his way into the center of town to a large building. The building was once sort of like a town hall for the locals living here. It was currently being worked on by the people, fixing it up and hanging large pieces of decorative fabric on the sides. The fabric had what looked like a giant red droplet woven on white cloth, the symbol of the Red Church. One worker noticed the man approaching and quickly approached him. Construction worker: David? What happened?! he said, surprised to see him. David: It''s my daughter! A maw frog was hiding in the mud. It jumped out and attacked my daughter, he said, distressed and tears running down. Construction worker: Oh fuck! Go in right ahead. The saintess is still here. David ran past the worker and right inside. More people were working on the interior, walls were being torn down and furniture was being moved out. The former town hall was being converted into a temple of the Red Church. David: Saint Steph! Please! I need to see Saint Steph. My daughter''s life is in danger! he cried out. Everyone working inside stopped what they were doing and turned to look at David. A nearby door swung open and a woman walked out. The woman was beautiful and looked relatively young. She had long flowing golden hair and beautiful green eyes and wore pure white robes that looked to be those of a priest and did nothing to hide her ridiculously large chest. She had a near impossible level of beauty compared to anyone that the people of Corpa had ever seen. The locals thought she looked closer to those depictions of goddesses people used to carve out of stone. This was the Saintess in Red and White, Steph Kor. Steph: Whats going on? Does someone need me? she asked, in a calm and pleasant voice. David quickly ran up to the woman, holding his daughter out to the saintess. David: Please saintess! My daughter was attacked by a maw frog. Her leg was ripped off by it and was poisoned by the creature. he said, distressed. Steph: OH NO! Someone grab me a table to lay this poor child on, NOW! she ordered out. Some nearby men reacted to her command and ran into another room, and they immediately came back carrying a table. They placed the table in front of David, who laid his child down on it for the saintess to examine. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. A crowd began to form around Steph to watch her heal this child. Steph carefully unwrapped the cloth wrapped around the small girl to reveal a bloody mess. Davids child was breathing heavily and was starting to turn green. The change in the little girl''s complexion was a symptom of the poisonous saliva of a maw frog, which was lethal. Below the girl''s waist, her left leg was missing halfway down the thigh. There was a cloth tied tightly around near where the leg had been ripped off, but was not quite tight enough. There was still a dangerous amount of blood flowing out from the wound. Steph: Hold still, little one, she said, as she placed her hand on the girl. Those who had not seen the saint heal someone before might be confused about what she was doing. When healing magic is used, it causes the healer''s hands to glow a yellowish-golden light. Yet, there was no such light coming from Steph''s hands. It just appeared like she was placing her hand on the girl''s shoulder, without applying any healing magic. Suddenly , and without warning, the girl''s complexion rapidly started to turn back to normal. The flesh around the area of the girl''s missing leg started to bubble, followed by it twisting and bending as if her flesh had turned to clay. The pinkish clay-like flesh started to expand and stretch out from the girl''s wound, slowly taking the shape of a healthy leg. The texture and the skin tone of the pseudo-leg started to change to match the other leg. By the end of this process, it looked like a perfectly normal left leg of a seven year old girl. The girl''s breathing relaxed as she slept peacefully. Steph took her hand off the child and just smiled at the sleeping girl. She then turned to the little girl''s father. Steph: Your daughter will be fine now. Ive restored her leg and removed the poison. She just needs some rest. David: T-t-hank y-y-you. he said, with tears running down his face from hearing his daughter would be fine. Steph just smiled at the crying man, as she received his gratitude. An elderly man stepped in front of the crowd and spoke up after seeing what just happened. Elderly man: See that! Those of you still questioning the Red Church, how can you say what you saw was anything but a miracle. Some people in the crowd looked away from the man awkwardly. The people looking away were the same people who originally were not sure about letting the Red Church into their community. Those people originally opposed the Red Church, but the majority of the town sided with letting them in any way. Elderly man: Without the Red Church, David''s daughter would be dead now. Not only that, but how many of you would have gotten ill, or starved by now without the saintess here. Let this be a lesson to those naysayers. Weve been abandoned by the Gix empire, by the Union States, by the Church of Light and the Light itself, but not by the Red Church, not by the saintess! They are the only ones who havent forgotten about people like us, the only ones who help us. Praise to the Red church! Praise to the Saintess! he yelled. In response to what the old man said, the entire crowd followed. They all started yelling out praises to Steph. Crowd: Praise to the Red church! Praise to the Saintess! Praise to the Red church! Praise to the Saintess! The entire crowd was swept up by the fervor of fanatical praising. Steph just stood in the center of the crowd with a warm smile, making no attempt to calm them down. At the back of the crowd, where no one was looking, was a lone man wearing similar dirty brown clothing to the people living here. While he wore the clothing of the people living here, he was not truly from here. He quietly glared at Steph, planning something. Chapter 47 - Fateless In The Mystic Emporium, John was looking through a shelf full of books on the main floor of the store. He was bored and was looking for something interesting to read. He could manifest nearly anything, long as he was in this store. He only needed to visualize something he desired and it would appear. The problem is he was unsure of what to manifest. John couldnt just say he wanted something interesting or fun to do and it would appear, he had to visualize it in his mind, and thats hard when you don''t know what you want. John was hoping that looking through his books, he would find something interesting to read, but it wasn''t looking hopeful. He let out a long sigh. No good. These are all written in the local script, which I cant read very well. Since coming here, I have gained the ability to understand what people are saying to me, but why doesn''t that also translate to writing? Ugh, maybe I should stop being lazy and learn. But, I would have to ask someone to teach me, and that just feels too embarrassing. he thought to himself. John had realized a long time ago that what people said to him, and what he heard, were completely different. The words he heard people say didnt match the movement of their lips. He immediately clued in that another world would likely develop a completely different language from his own. Therefore, he concluded that he had gained some sort of ability from Onyx, allowing him to understand what people are saying to him and vice versa. Unfortunately, that same ability didnt seem to work with writing. John never completely learned the local script. He knew just enough for him to get by, and have sorta an idea of what was being written. Graheel was located in the Union states, who all spoke and wrote Unia. John wasn''t sure about the spoken language, as he was not able to hear it because it was automatically translated for him, but he knew that written Unia was ridiculous. It had a weird convention where it had two types of writing to convey tone, Formal and Informal. Formal Unia is no nonsense and straight to the point, where Informal is more flowery and poetic. The main problem of Unia for John was that words in Formal and Informal are spelled completely differently and follow different sentence structure. It made the writing so much harder to learn for him. It was like Unia was two languages in one. He had only barely gotten a grasp on formal writing, so he could at least read newspapers and book titles, as those are always written in formal. But, outside of formal writing, it was a hit and miss for whether or not John knew what was being written. It also didnt help that people like to mix informal and formal writing together, making things even more confusing for him. John wished that there was some sort of book written in English that could teach him the local writing properly. He tried manifesting such a book before and it didnt work. He cant manifest what does not exist. The best he could do was manifest something that was an approximation of what he wanted. When he tried to manifest a book to help him learn, he just ended up creating a book that had even more bizarre text he couldnt read. It looked even more weird than the local script. That book gave him a headache from just looking at that erratic writing, so he had thrown it away a long time ago. As he was looking at the shelf, he heard the familiar ring of the store bell. John turned cautiously towards who was entering, still a little shaken by Onyxs recent visit, but was glad to see it was just Cid. John: Oh, Cid. Its you. Did you come for coffee? he said, sounding relieved that it was just Cid. Cid: Sorry, not today. Im on my way to meet Miss Scarlett, but I thought I would stop by to briefly say hello, and thank you for earlier. he said, as he entered through the front door. It was just last night with the incident with Sorin. Not enough time had gone by yet for everyone to realize what had happened. Cid felt the need to tell John about it, even though he assumed he already knew. It was done more out of politeness than anything else. John: For earlier? Sorry, you''re going to have to jog my memory. completely clueless to what Cid was referring to. Cid just smiled at Johns question. I guess that whole undead thing really was nothing to him. The book warned me that Sorins undead could bother Mr Li, but I guess the trouble wouldve been just an annoyance to him from his perspective. Cid thought to himself. The book of grand design had warned Cid that in the future, the undead of Sorin would eventually meet John and cause him trouble. It recommended to Cid to remove these things so that it wouldnt happen, to which he agreed. He owed a lot to John, and this was a small way of repaying him for the guidance he received. Cid: It was that advice on those pests youve given me. John: Oh! So its about that. You really dont need to thank me. I barely did anything to help you out at that time. But, based on what you''re saying, it sounds like you got it under control. Cid: Yup. I managed to find the source and got rid of it. Just like you told me to. he said, following the advice of the book and Scarlett, by obfuscating what he was really trying to convey. With those words, what he was really trying to say was: I found who was making the undead at the university, and killed him. John: Oh, thats good to hear. I''m sure it must be a relief that those bugs are gone. he said, thinking Cid had gotten rid of a normal cockroach problem. Cid: Sure is. Anyways, I would love to stay and talk some more, but I gotta go see Miss Scarlett soon. he said, about to turn and leave. John: Wait, before you go. he said, but then stopped briefly to think about what he was about to say. John recalled the conversation he had with Onyx, about the warning of something going to happen at the university. He had no idea what was going on at the university, and only had a very vague warning from Onyx. He could never know that the trouble he was warned about may have been about Cid killing Sorin. He intended to warn Cid, without knowing what had already transpired. John was carefully thinking how to tell Cids about the warning he got without sounding weird, but eventually gave up and just told him. John: Um, I heard from afriend that there was trouble brewing at the university. So, just keep your head down until the trouble passes, OK. he said, hoping Cid wouldnt ask him to explain his vague warning. He must be talking about the media storm thats about to happen once people learn Sorin was a necromancer. Well, I was going to lay low after this anyways. Cid silently thought to himself. Cid: Sure, anyways, Ill be sure to come by sometime this week for coffee, he said as turned to leave. John: Wait, one more thing. Take this, he said, handing Cid a bag of dried tea leaves. Cid: Um, whats this? John: It is a special herbal blend for Scarlett. I give this to her regularly, but she hasn''t come around for a while for me to do so. Since you''re going to meet her, mind giving this to her? Cid: No problem. Ill make sure she gets it. John: Thank you. Cid nodded and quickly left the store. The familiar ring of bell attached to the front door rang out, as it was open and closed from Cids departure. John was once again left alone in The Mystic Emporium. He let out a disappointed sigh as he went back to look at the books on the shelf. John was excited by Cid''s sudden visit and was hoping to have a pleasant conversation with him, but it didnt seem like it was meant to be. I guess its back to trying to figure out how to read this world''s writing. John thought to himself. He almost immediately heard the store bell ring again. Thinking it was Cid, who had maybe forgotten something, turned to the front door to greet the shroom pact student. John: Did you forget someep! he said, cutting himself off in surprise. Entering through the front door with a cane with a metallic skull pommel and red eyes was Onyx, the eldritch nightmare that brought John to this world. Onyx: Good day to you John. John: W-why are y-you here? Onyx: Because I said I would check in on you from time to time. Is your memory OK? Although, memory is relative, so I understand if its different from others. John: N-no, I remember what you said, but the last check up was literally five days ago. Onyx: Is that too soon? Huh? The perception of time is so tedious. How about we sit and talk about it, he said while gesturing to the table at the back of the store. The way Onyx phrased that, John wasn''t sure if this was a suggestion or an order, so he just assumed it was an order and walked over to the table at the back and sat down. He was not about to upset this thing. Onyx followed behind John and took a seat across from him. The elderly appearing man reached off outside of John''s perception and pulled out a tray with a teapot and cups on it. There was steam coming out of the spout of the pot. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Onyx: You do drink tea, right? That is a thing humans do? he said while pouring a cup of tea and offering it to John. John: Y-yeah, he said, as received the teacup. Onyx: Good to know. Onyx poured a cup for himself and then drank the liquid it contained in one big gulp. John couldnt help but winch a little at seeing that. The tea was still scalding hot, if he were to drink the beverage like Onyx, it would definitely burn his mouth and throat. A small reminder for John that Onyx wasn''t human, not that he needed to be reminded. The nightmare creature then put his cup down and smiled at John, which he found disturbing. The way Onyx speaks, stares at, and smiles was always off. No matter what Onyx did, something about it didnt feel entirely right. John wondered if he would feel different about this if he didnt know what that man really was. Onyx: If twenty years is too long and five days is too short, what is an appropriate amount of time to wait before visiting you? John wished for nothing more than to never see Onyx again, but that was not something he was going to vocalize, for fear of angering this creature. John thought for a little while at what to say. He knew he couldn''t say anything over twenty years, due to what he said to Onyx previously about it being a long time. He debated if he should tell him nineteen years, trying to limit his appearance as much as possible, but decided against that. He didnt want to risk annoying this creature with that kind of answer. So, John decided to go half way with his recommendation. John: How about tenyears. You should wait ten years before visiting me. Onyx crossed his arms and began to think for a little while before speaking, something John hadn''t seen him do before and found strange. Onyx: Hmm, thats not going to be an option for me. At least, not now. John: What is that supposed to mean? Onyx: It means the wheels of destiny are finally spinning after a long time, at least, I think it was a long time? I will be required to appear before you to help with your role in that. So I will have to visit you beyond the ten years you suggest. John let out a long sigh. He was purposely trying to avoid learning about Onyx and what he meant by his role here, but with how Onyx was talking, it was starting to feel unavoidable. It was starting to sound like he was about to be involved in something, regardless of how much John wanted to distance himself. So with resignation, he tried asking about the reason hes here, something he had been avoiding for years. John: What is my role here? Onyx: To bring salvation to the people who show up on your doorstep. John: I think you said something like that years ago, but I dont understand why. Why bring me to this world and tell me to give out this thing you call salvation? Onyx: You were not allowed to exist in your previous world, thats why you''re here. John: But why is it my role to give out salvation? Onyx: Because that is what you were brought here to do. John: But why? Onyx: Because that is your role. John: But why is this my role? Onyx: Because this is what you were brought here for. John became confused and stopped with the line of questioning he was doing. He noticed a strange circular logic that was going on with Onyx. He was brought here to fulfill some role, but the role exists because he was brought here. Onyx didn''t think like a normal human. If John really wanted to understand what was happening, he had to ask the right questions. John: OKwhat is this salvation? What does it mean to give others salvation? Onyx: Salvation is a latin word meaning to be in a state of being saved or protected from harm or a dire situation. Giving salvation means saving something. John: No, I mean he said, stopping what he was about to say, because he knew he wouldn''t get the answer he wanted. John shifted to a different question. You said something about fate, do I have some sort of destiny I''m supposed to fulfill? Onyx tilted his head slightly, which possibly indicated he was confused, but John wasnt sure. It was hard to read Onyx, he didnt express like a normal person. Onyx: Fate has already been destroyed and has nothing to do with destiny. John: Wait, is destiny and fate not the same thing? And what do you mean fate has been destroyed? Onyx: Im starting to realize that humans interchange these terms, which is not correct. How do you explain in the words of a human, he said, while resting his index finger on his chin. He was acting as if he was pondering. Destiny is something that is likely to happen. Fate is something that will happen. Does that make sense? It took a few seconds for John to process what he was just told. John: I think so. Fate is something thats predetermined, while destiny is something like probability. Onyx: Not quite, but close enough. John: Ok, but whats this about fate being destroyed? Onyx: It is as I said. The wheels of destiny are turning once more, because fate no longer holds sway over this world. Destiny now fills the void that was once fate. And, in time maybe even destiny too will become naught. John: What is the cause of this? Onyx: You. John: ME?!?! he yelled out in surprise. Onyx: Yes. John: I-I dont understand? he said, completely confused. Onyx: You are not bound to either the fate or destiny of this world, as you are not of it. As such, every action you do, even small ones, changes fate and destiny. Due to the rigid nature of fate, the changes you made were big enoughand numerous enoughto eventually add up and cause fate to collapse on itself. John: B-but what did I exactly do that changed fate so much? Onyx: You gave out salvation. Almost every person that has ever visited this store, had a tragic fate that you changed. Some for the better, others not as much, and a few who you delayed their tragedy. Those kinds of changes were significant. Many of those people were supposed to die at a predetermined moment, but didnt because of you. They went on to live past that moment, causing them to change others'' fate, and then those people went on to change more peoples fate, and so on and so on. John''s eyes widened at what he just heard, he never thought the things he was doing were having such a big impact on the world. He just thought he was helping people, giving them some advice and a shoulder to cry on. Its starting to make sense. John thought to himself. John: Then, is that why you brought me to this world? To destroy some sort of unseen cosmic order in the world? Is that your intention? Onyx: Can you explain what you mean by ''your intention. John: It''s why you brought me here! Onyx: No, its because it is your role. John: Then why are you doing this? And dont say its because of my role or whatever. There must be something you want for you to be doing all this. Onyx: Oh, I see now what you meant by intention. You think this is happening because of our desire, something that we want. I guess humans think like that, for someone to take an action, a desire is needed. But, that''s not the case with us, at least not always. John: Your saying there is no reason for any of this? Onyx: Do you need a reason to do something? John: Yes! Onyx: I was under the impression humans do random things without reason all the time. John: T-thats, um, ugh. he said, unable to properly respond. What Onyx said was true, there are plenty of things that people do without a particular reason. It could be out of habit, an instinctual response, or just because its fun. When John thought about it, he had difficulty following up on his point. Onyx: You''re a lot more curious than the last few times we met. Maybe five days is longer than twenty years? But, I''m also still getting the sense that you still dont want to really know. So Ill say this. Everything that is happening to you is because of the choices you made, no more, no less. It was your choice to call us. The only thing we did was answer the call. This is the role you have chosen for yourself, whether you knew it or not. Is there really no great purpose to anything that has happened to me? No reason why I was brought here? He thought to himself, feeling conflicted. John: Then theres no purpose to it. Its just because of me that fate is destroyed, he said, not knowing how to feel about this fact. Onyx: I wouldnt get choked up about that. If it wasn''t you, it would be something else that wouldve done it. And at the rate you''re going, I''m sure destiny will eventually follow. Its more flexible than fate, but it can only bend so far. John: I-is this a bad thing? Onyx: Well, it depends on who you ask. Making predictions and prophecies are going to get a lot harder, but let''s be honest. Foretelling the future was always dull. After all, what''s the fun of reading the ending of a story before getting to the beginning and middle acts? But, if this bothers you so much, you could always stop giving out salvation. Destiny will eventually correct itself and restore fate. That also means giving up on the people coming here, who wander into this store, leaving them to meet their inevitable tragic ends. John thought about the whole reason he did that desperate ritual before. It was because he was alone and desperate when he performed that ritual. If he had someone, he wouldve never done something like that ritual. Abandoning people that were in a similar position to himself, was something he couldnt agree to. He wouldn''t abandon these people. John: No, I wont do that. Onyx: Then nothing has changed. That was the whole reason you didnt ask too many questions before. Because you knew the answers wouldnt change anything. John: Its as you say, he said, hating the fact that Onyx was confirming what he already had concluded from before. John was really wishing he didnt ask the questions that he did, and stuck with his original plan of limiting how much he learned about Onyx. He knew what he was told would linger in his mind. Onyx: Anyways, this was a pleasant conversation, but I should bewhats the saying? Get back to it? No, that doesn''t sound right, oh well. I will be leaving. John: Is that it? You''re done? Onyx: Yes. I believe so. I have informed you that I will be making additional appearances when appropriate. And, the issue I was supposed to help you with, you already resolved. John: Huh? W-what issue? Onyx: Its nothing you need to concern yourself with now. Things will play out as they are supposed to, or maybe not. Fates gone after all, so who knows what the future holds anymore, he chuckled, with a laugh that sounded just a little too deep and a slightly abnormal cadence to it. The laughter from Onyx made John''s hair stand on ends. Something about it which was very uncomfortable and unnatural. John was now too apprehensive to try and ask Onyx any more questions. Onyx didnt say anything else and got up from his chair and quietly exited the store, leaving John alone once again. Johns head raced with thoughts about what he had just heard. I guess I was right before. Knowing more about Onyx doesn''t really help me, and just makes me more anxious. He quietly thought to himself. From John''s side, Lunar appeared, whining for his attention. Lunar: Waah, the dog squeaked out, while looking up at John with its big blue eyes. John: Where were you hiding? Actually lets not think about what that thing said and focus on something better. Wanna go for a walk, boy? Lunar: Woof! it barked out excitedly. John got up from his seat and headed out onto the street with Lunar following. Trying to clear his mind from all the anxiety he built up from that conversation. Side story 2 - The Whispers In The Wall Content warning - Lots of gore and body horror -Twenty years ago in the east end of Graheel on Eld Street.- A skinny man with messy brown hair wearing a dirty white lab coat with a pair of thick glasses was sitting at a table, going through a bunch of handwritten notes. This man was known as Leroi. He was an alchemist running a shop selling supplies for potion making on Eld Street in the east end of Graheel. Some might think its unusual to run an alchemist shop in an area where the majority of people cant use aether, but they would be wrong. The art of alchemy was one of the few arcane practices anyone could learn and use. It didnt require aether, only time and effort. However, the tools for alchemy were expensive. The real problem of running an alchemist shop here is the people living near Leroi''s shop, The Bubbling Beaker, were not exactly the most wealthy. So the number of people that came to his shop was very limited, but that was fine for Leroi. He didnt open this store to actually provide supplies to the locals. The shop only existed to get supplies for himself. Leroi required large amounts of materials for the alchemical experiments he was conducting. So large in fact, many suppliers would reject his orders from the time before he opened this store. The quantity of chemicals he requested made suppliers nervous. They were worried that the chemicals they were sending him were being used for some sort of illicit activity. Not wanting to risk culpability, they would not send him the things he requested. This frustrated Leroi at the time and he couldnt convince the suppliers to give him the materials he needed. The suppliers wanted a reasonable explanation for why he was ordering so much, which he didnt have because he was using those materials for illegal alchemy experiments. So there was a brief moment in time when he couldnt get the supplies he needed. Thats why The Bubbling Beaker existed. A store ordering large amounts of alchemy supplies looks less suspicious on paper than when Leroi was doing it as an individual. As long as no one bothered to look at where his store was located, no one would find anything strange about it. He was sitting at the front desk going over his research and notes about his last experiments. He was trying to look for a clear solution to a fundamental problem in one of his experiments. Leroi knew that if he could solve this problem, he would become famous. It would revolutionize alchemy and the alchemist community would even overlook past ethical violations if he was successful. The sound of the front door of his store rang out. Leroi looked from his research notes to see someone he hadn''t seen before, which caused him to quietly groan in annoyance. This store wasn''t actually made to sell products to people, but he had to have a storefront for his fake business, and sometimes a local would wander in here because of it. There were a handful of regular customers that would come by every once in a while. Those people didnt ask any questions and just took their chemicals and quietly left. Leroi was sure that the people regularly visiting his store were just buying supplies to make illegal substances themselves, which suited him just fine. It wasn''t his problem, and actually having records of selling chemicals made his store seem less suspicious. Leroi didnt like seeing new faces enter his store, it meant there was a risk they would stop and try to talk to him. He hoped that this man would quickly look around, buy something, and leave without really talking to him. Unfortunately, that didnt seem to be the case as the man walked straight towards Leroi. The disgruntled alchemist put his note down to more closely examine the figure approaching him. The man had black hair and red eyes, a physical feature that Leroi assumed was a mutation since a lot of mutants lived around here. What was most surprising was that the man appeared very well dressed, more so than what one would expect living on the east end of Graheel. He wore an expensive-looking black sateen dress shirt and a pair of matching pants. People living around here would not dress like the man in front of Leroi. Unless he was trying to make a certain statement to onlookers. However, Leroi didnt care about any oddity of this person he didnt know. He just wanted him to leave. The well-dressed man approached Leroi with a smile and engaged in conversation with him. John: Hello, nice to meet you. Im John Li, your new neighbor. Leroi: Neighbor? he repeated, confused. Leroi didnt recall anyone moving next door to him recently, but he admitted to himself he didnt really pay attention to what was happening in the neighborhood. It could very well be that the bakery next door closed down and this person moved in. If that had happened, he doubted he would notice. Leroi: I see Why are you here? John: Um, just here to give a friendly greeting. Leroi: OK. Youve done that. You can now leave. John: Oh, um are you busy right now? Mr um he said while looking around the vacant store. Leroi: Leroi, and yes, I''m very busy. John did not entirely believe Leroi, but wasn''t going to push against him if he didnt feel like talking at the moment. John: OK, well Im next door if you want to talk later once you have some time. My store is the Mystic Emporium. A sort of antique shop. Leroi: Mr John, take a hint. I dont care, and dont appreciate you trying to be all friendly with me. I dont really want to know you. So lets stay out of each business from now on, OK? John: Oh, um, um he stuttered. Leroi: Im closing up shop. So leave, now. John: I was just trying to be nice he grumbled a bit before he left, feeling a little insulted by Lerois attitude. Once the antique store owner was gone, Leroi was alone in his store again. The grumpy alchemist didnt care about leaving a good impression of himself. He was hoping that this interaction was enough to make this John person stay away from now on. He didnt need anyone bothering him with his work. Leroi: Ninety-nine! he called out. A door to the back of the store slowly creaked open, revealing a strange creature. The creature had blue skin with thin humanoid arms and legs. It had barely any torso or neck and stood at two feet tall (61 centimeters) with no mouth or nose to speak of, instead, it sported one giant eye where a face might be. This was a homunculus. An artificial creature created through the union of alchemy and conventional spellcrafting. It is a creature that was highly unethical in its creation, but Leroi had created this one all the same. Leroi: Were closing up! Clean up the shop. Ill be in my study. Dont you dare to bother me until I call you, he ordered. The homunculus that was named Ninety-nine just blinked, as it had no mouth to make any sound to respond with. Leroi walked past the strange creature without a second glance and headed into another room. Now alone, Ninety-nine just looked around the store. It was immaculate from its vantage point. The homunculus felt it did a really good job at cleaning from previous orders. There wasn''t much for it to clean. Their only shame was the shelves. Ninety-nine was short and couldnt reach up to properly clean it, but everything close to the ground and within reach was very tidy. There wasn''t that much point in cleaning unless it could reach the upper shelves, but it had to follow orders. Ninety-nine had no choice. It was magically compelled to do so. Homunculus were bound to the person who made them and had to do any order they were given. Effectively making this creature a slave to the alchemist. Even if Ninety-nine wanted to go against Leroi, it couldn''t live without the aether that the alchemist-mage supplied him with. There was no escape. Ninety-nine was to live out its existence as a slave. Although, as a rare homunculus capable of complex thought, it wasn''t sure if it wanted to continue to live like this. While its thoughts were far from human, it still somehow understood the way it was being treated by Leroi was wrong. It didnt know why, but knew it was wrong. Not wanting to dwell too much on its strange thoughts, Ninety-nine got to work, but it first walked over to the front door. The creature was hiding in the back and had overheard that short conversation with its creator and their new neighbor. It was curious about this new shop that opened up. It gingerly opened the front door and carefully looked around. Leroi ordered Ninety-nine not to be seen by anyone, so it was being careful to make sure no one was around. People around here have likely never seen something like a homunculus before. The artificial creature could be easily mistaken for a monster by those who did not know of them. If Ninety-nine was discovered, it would cause problems for itself and its creator with the few who lived close by. However, that wasn''t likely to happen. Ninety-nine looked around the vacant street. It was completely devoid of people. Eld Street was mostly abandoned, and people hardly ever came around here. It was why Leroi set shop up at this location, and why Ninety-nine wasn''t worried about being accidentally discovered. Once it saw that it was clear, it slowly stepped out and looked around. It looked to the left to try and see the new shop it heard about, but only saw the familiar abandoned building beside the alchemy store it called home. This meant that the new neighbor must have moved into the bakery next door. Upon that realization, the artificial creature felt a strange sense well up inside it. Ninety-nine had a hard time understanding these strange feelings it got every once in a while. It was pretty sure it was an emotion, but not what kind of emotion. It mostly categorizes these feelings and sensations as only bad or good". The current feeling it felt was bad. The bad feeling it got wasn''t as intense as when Leroi got mad and started throwing things at Ninety-nine, but it was still bad. Likely caused by knowing that the bakery was no more. When Ninety-nine reminisced about the bakery next door, it got another feeling that it categorized as good when it did. The truth of what the homunculus was feeling a sense of loss. The bakery next door brought some small amount of joy to the strange creature and its existence. Despite having no nose, it was somehow able to smell, and early in the morning, it could sometimes smell fresh bread being baked next door. It was a small sensation it enjoyed, but now it wouldnt be able to experience that anymore. The homunculus turned its giant eyeball to the right towards where the bakery used to be and became confused. The familiar bakery was still there. Its sign in the shape of a loaf of bread still hung on top just above the store entrance, advertising its product. Nothing about it has changed, but at the same time, it wasn''t right. It was like it was in the wrong spot, because now there was another store between the alchemy shop and the bakery. The new store had two canted bay display windows with a single-panel glass door between them. The sign above the store read Mystic Emporium. The store looked out of place, It looked pristine and brand new compared to the structures around it, but at the same time, it felt like it was always there. However, Ninety-nine knew it wasn''t always there, but had no idea how to explain its appearance. How does that work? The homunculus wondered to itself. There were a lot of things it didnt understand about this world, and thought that must be the case here. The artificial creature wondered if there was some sort of way to move buildings around. It didnt have another explanation as to where this store came from and just accepted it as a fact that buildings could be moved. Ninety-nine''s innocence and lack of experience prevented it from understanding the depth of the oddity of the situation in front of it. Even in this world of magic, moving buildings is not something that could be easily done. Especially, without a large amount of people noticing. A normal person wouldnt be able to casually brush off this anomaly as quickly as this homunculus was doing. Walking onto the street, way off in the distance, was a man holding a bottle. He was stumbling and didnt look like he could not walk straight. From the position Ninety-nine was, it was sure it couldnt be seen. It focused its eye on the person, and recognized the individual as Dave, the person living in the bakery that used to be next door. The feeling Ninety-nine got from this man was bad. The walls were thin, and it could recall hearing yelling between this man and the woman next door. The feeling it got from those moments reminded the homunculus of when Lori yelled at it. This man is making lots of bad feelings for others. Ninety-nine thought to itself about Dave. Not wanting to be seen by the drunken man, Ninety-nine quickly ran back inside The Bubbling Beaker. Once back inside, it reached up as high as it could and locked the door behind itself. It then ran over to a nearby closet that contained cleaning supplies and pulled a rag. Ninety-nine then began a long process of cleaning any spec of dust that it missed. ?????????????????? Two hours later everything near the floor was practically sparkling and the smell of cleaning agent hung in the air. The homunculus could almost see its reflection on the surface of the floor from it being scrubbed so much. The floor and everything two feet (60cm) from the ground was scrubbed down. Ninety-nine looked on at the results of its work as another feeling welled up inside. A feeling the artificial creature simply identified as good. While the process of cleaning was tedious, it was one of the few things this creature knew how to do. Cleaning was also preferable to the other tasks his master, Leroi, made it do. As long as it was cleaning, it wasn''t helping the alchemist in the lab. Something it could be thankful for, if Ninety-nine understood what it meant to be thankful. It looked at the top of the shelf and dreamed of one day being able to reach it so that it could also be properly cleaned. Leroi: Ninety-nine! Get down here! We''re starting project 335! the alchemist yelled from somewhere deeper inside the shop. The good feeling the homunculus got from cleaning was supplanted by a very intense bad feeling. It didnt want to go to its master, but had no choice. Hesitantly, it walked to the back of the store and entered the back storage room. Inside this room was full of crates and metal drums of chemicals lying around. It was cluttered and hard to tell how everything was organized. The scent of harsh chemicals permeated the air. It walked to the corner of the room and pulled a hidden rope that opened up a secret trap door in the floor, revealing a ladder leading down. Ninety-nine started to climb downward while closing the door above its head. The smell of chemicals got stronger as the homunculus descended. Once it was off the ladder, Ninety-nine looked around. It was a hidden laboratory that Leroi had built to conduct his experiments. There were lights hanging from the roof and all matter tools and chemicals lying about on tables and storage shelves. A slight haze hung in the air, likely leftover fumes from another experiment done earlier since the makeshift lab had no proper ventilation. Standing by a large table was Leroi in a white lab coat. He had thick rubber gloves and safety glasses on while slowly pouring a bright green chemical into another beaker full of a blue liquid. As the liquid mixed together it turned purple and puffed out a plume of smoke. Leroi held the beaker away from him quickly so as not to inhale the fumes. Once it stopped spitting out vapors, the alchemist held the beaker close to his face to examine it. Leroi: Excellent, Its ready, he then turned away from what he was working on to see his homunculus standing there by the ladder it climbed down, staring at him. Well? What are you waiting for? Come over here already! he ordered. Ninety-nine slowly walked over to Leroi as he was commanded. Once he was within arms reach of his master, it was grabbed by the arm violently. The alchemist was annoyed that Ninety-nine took so long to walk over to him, and was now roughly manhandling the artificial creature to take out his frustration. Leroi pulled the creature up by the arm and then slammed it onto the table he was standing by. The creature landed on its back with a loud thud. Ninety-nine started to get that feeling it didnt like, mostly in the back where it was slammed. It wasn''t sure if it was an emotion or another sensation, but it was bad, and he didnt like it. What the creature was feeling was pain, but didnt know how to understand it at the moment beyond simply it being bad. Now lying on it back on a cold metal table, Ninety-nine looked to see the one who created him pull out a big syringe and needle. Leroi violently jabbed the needle into its side and wiggled the needle around, paying no concern for the creature, as he looked for a blood vessel to draw blood from. Ninety-nine experienced another bad feeling from the needle that was more intense than being slammed against the table. Leroi pulled the plunger back and crimson blood flowed into the large 10ml barrel of the syringe. Once he had the blood he wanted, he pulled the needle out and slapped on a piece of common industrial use tape on the wound left by the incision. Ninety-nine felt weak. The amount of blood taken was a lot for such a small creature. The homunculus struggled a bit, trying to pull itself up, before Leroi just shoved it to the side. Without warning, he pushed Ninety-nine off the side of the table after the alchemist got what he wanted. It fell onto the floor while flipping in the air and landed on its front side, making a slapping sound of its skin hitting the ground. The familiar bad feeling it got from being slammed onto the table could be felt again on Ninety-nines front now. It struggled again, but managed to get unsteadily back onto its feet this time. Ninety-nine looked up with its giant mono eye to see its creator gather a few more miscellaneous liquids. He was grabbing vials of other strange-looking liquid and placing them in front of him by the table Ninety-nine was just on. He then slowly started to pour the liquid into a small basin beside the table. It was too high from where the homunculus was to see from its vantage point. While clenching the area where it was jabbed with a needle with its hand, it slowly climbed up on another nearby table to watch what Leroi was doing. It didnt want to watch, but had no choice. Ninety-nine was smart enough to be able to read and write, so Leroi made him record the results of his experiments down. It had to watch what its creator was doing, so it could write it down later. It was all part of what Leroi ordered. If it didnt do this task well enough, Leroi would make Ninety-nine have many very bad feelings. The chemicals were mixed in the basin one by one. The color shifts from blue, to green, and purple as each chemical is mixed together. Leroi then waved his hand over the liquid, infusing his own aether into the substance, briefly causing the liquid to ripple while he did this. The final ingredient added was blood that had just been extracted from Ninety-nine. Once the blood was added, there was a puff of smoke and the liquid started to turn red and bubble aggressively. The liquid then solidified into a red fleshy texture and started to condense on itself into the vague shape of a humanoid. But, it stopped halfway. There was now an arm and leg with half a head sticking out of a mass of writhing flesh. It was hairless and the skin sagged on its exposed limbs in a most unpleasant way to the eyes. The creature looked around frantically with black beady eyes, its alien nature too difficult to tell if it had any coherent thoughts. It flailed its limbs hopelessly around while it dangled from the fleshy mass it was attached to. And, despite its inhuman nature, anyone could immediately tell that the creature was in pain. Abomination: Gaahglashga!! it cried out, suffering from its newly formed existence. Leroi: Sigh, another failure it seems. It only half-formed this time. Still no intelligence either. Probably will die quicker than the others. Project 335 is a complete failure. Abomination: K-k-k-kill m-m-me! it begged. Upon hearing that, Leroi started to smile. Leroi: I stand corrected. Maybe not a complete failure. Tell me my homunculus, what are you feeling right now. Abomination: P-p-p-paaaaaain. K-k-kill meeeee! it cried out, as blood started leaking out of its eyes. This was Leroi''s life''s work. The creation of homunculus, but not just any, ones with intelligence. Many successfully created homunculus have the most basic of intelligence, not much better than a single-use machine at times. They couldnt usually do complex tasks such as writing or even speech. So, Leroi attempted to try and fix those flaws about them and create a more consistent method in their creation. The creation of homunculus is frowned upon in the Alchemist community, due to its random probability in its creation and the moral issue of creating life. There is no standardized way to create them. Even if two alchemists use the exact same method to create one, you could get three different results, with none of them creating a homunculus. It is a process of trial and error. In doing that, you can end up with a result similar to what Leroi just created, a half-form creature that can only suffer in its brief moments of life. You have to create hundreds of failed homunculus before you can create a half-decent one that could be properly used as a servant or tool. Creating so many creatures for them only to suffer and die was obviously something people, and even alchemists found disgusting. This is why the creation of these creatures is universally banned. Leroi thought those people''s concerns about ethics were holding progress back, and continued those experiments to create an intelligent homunculus until he was discovered and blacklisted by the alchemist community for it. Even after he was excised from the community, he intended to prove them wrong. It took Leroi ninety nine attempts, but he created an intelligent homunculus. That same homunculus watched as Leroi conversed with Project 355. Leroi: Where are you feeling the pain? The abomination didnt answer. It failed around and screamed one last time before falling limp. The mass of red flesh it was attached to quickly turned gray, looking like its life expired. Leroi: Tch. Still cant consistently create one. But, intelligence seems to be developing more often. Twenty-two of the last hundred attempts at least showed some signs of useful intelligence. So my theory of using the blood of an already intelligent homunculus as the basis for the creation seems to have some merit, he said aloud to no one in particular. Leroi grabbed a scalpel nearby and aggressively made an incision into the fleshy mass of his failed homunculus. Blood shot out like a fountain once he broke the skin, covering the front of the cruel alchemist''s lab coat in blood. Despite the excessive amount of blood that shot out, he didnt stop. He kept cutting the mass open. Looking inside to try and understand where he went wrong. Ninety-nine just looked on as Leroi violated the corpse of his failed creation. It had some degree of empathy for the failed homunculus, but it didnt know that. Failing to understand its own emotions, watching all this left it with a bad feeling it didnt know how to describe. How the creature wished to have not watched this, but had no choice. Even if it could speak and express a desire to not watch, it was unlikely Leroi would even care. The process went on for another fifteen minutes. Leroi pulled out misshapen bones and organs of odd colors from the fleshy mass. Blood continues to splatter and get all over the nearby table and floor. The blood that leaked out of the dead homunculus started to fill up the basin it was sitting in. By the time the alchemist was done dissecting, it was a horrific bloody mess. A mess that Leroi would make Ninety-nine clean up. The mad scientist pulled out what looked like a purplish-blue heart. He looked at it with fascination, before placing it in a glass jar. Leroi: This thing developed a curious-looking heart. Ninety-nine, clean this mess up while I study this, he commanded while walking into another room with the odd-colored organ. Ninety-nine looked at the bloody mess. With some reluctance, it jumped off the table it was on and walked over to a nearby cabinet to get out some cleaning supplies. It carried a large pile of rags and buckets over near the area of the failed experiment and started sopping up as much of the blood as possible. Each rag would become saturated with blood, and once that happened, Ninety-nine threw the rag into a bucket and repeated the process. Eventually, the bucket completely filled up. Ninety-nine took the bucket of bloody rags to a nearby furnace that was repurposed as an incinerator. The exhaust of the furnace leading somewhere into the wall and upstairs. The homunculus opened the door to the makeshift incinerator and saw the flames were already burning away. It then dumped the rags into it and quickly closed the furnace door, making sure none of the smoke got into the lab. One time Ninety-nine had left the furnace door open while it was using it, and a bunch of smoke filled up the lab. Leroi had smacked Ninety-nine a dozen times for that while berating it. The artificial creature learned that day not to let smoke into the lab after that, all to avoid those bad feelings. The one-eyed creature walked back to the bloody table and was preparing to repeat the process until all the blood was cleaned up. Suddenly, Ninety-nine heard a familiar voice. Abomination: K-k-kill m-me, it weakly begged. Ninety-nine looked up at the table where he heard the voice, before climbing on top to see. Laying there in a basin full of blood was the failed homunculus. The part that had the head and limbs was separated from the larger mass, cut away from Lerois violent dissection. It was still somehow alive, if just barely. Both the homunculus'' eyes met, and Ninety-nine got another bad feeling. Ninety-nine looked towards the door its creator went, almost expecting Leroi to burst through the door as it did, but there was no reaction. It then looked back at the creature lying in the basin. Ninety-nine knew it was supposed to inform Leroi that his experiment was still alive, but the one-eyed creature got a very bad feeling from the idea of doing that. The cruel alchemist would likely try to keep this half-formed homunculus alive for as long as possible to study. Prolonging its suffering in the process. The artificial creature didnt understand it, but it was feeling a sort of kinship with Project 355. It was created in a similar method to Ninety-nine, utilizing its blood. In a strange way, it could be said that Project 355 was the child of the one-eyed homunculus. And, that feeling of kinship compelled Ninety-nine to help, despite not understanding why. Seeing that it didn''t look like Leroi was about to suddenly enter the room, Ninety-nine grabbed the parts of the abomination that were still alive. It gathered the exposed limbs and head of the half-formed creature, pushing it off the side of the table. It landed with a wet bloody slapping sound. Abomination: I-I-it huuurtsss, it quietly whined. Ninety-nine quickly jumped down from the table and began dragging the abomination across the ground, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. While Ninety-nine should be telling Leroi about this. It wasn''t going to. There were no specific orders that required it to tell Leroi about this. It was only ordered to clean up. Disposing of experiment 355 is still within the context of that order, not in any violation of the magical control that Leroi had over Ninety-nine. It just had to be quick about, so Leroi wouldnt find out. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Ninety-nine dragged the half-formed creature to the incinerator. It quickly opened the furnace door and saw the fire still blazing inside, already burnt away the bloody rags it just put in. It then picked up the abomination with some effort. Ninety-nine got blood all over itself and the front of the furnaces, but managed to get the creature to the furnace entrance. As a small act of kindness, Ninety-nine pushed Project 355 down the chute into the incinerator. While the creature slid into the fire, it looked up at Ninety-nine with alien-looking eyes one last time. Abomination: T-T-T-Thank you it mumbled as it slid into an inferno. The one-eyed homunculus quickly closed the furnace door and then turned away. Ninety-nine got another feeling from hearing what Project 355 said, but it wasn''t good or bad. It didnt know what it was. It would ponder for the rest of the day about what it was feeling as it cleaned up all the blood in the lab. ?????????????????? Ninety-nine had just finished writing down what it saw during Lerois experiment, and crawled up from the underground lab back up into the storage room on the ground level of the building. As an artificial creature, it shouldnt feel tired, yet that was what it was feeling right now. The activities of the day left it drained, and without being able to properly comprehend the emotions it was feeling, it didnt understand why. Watching a fellow homunculus be created and suffer was a bit much. Then having to clean up the bloody remains, was taxing on what mental fortitude Ninety-nine had. Ninety-nine walked over to one corner of the room behind some crates. The space between the wall and crate was only large enough to allow small creatures like Ninety-nine to enter. Hidden away from Leroi was the creature''s little sanctuary. In that corner was a pile of newspaper used to make a bed and a few other nicknacks. It was items like pencils and broken glass, collected and placed about as little decorations, things that its master wouldn''t notice missing. These were the few things that could be considered to be owned by Ninety-nine. Everything was placed in a way that gave the homunculus lots of good feelings, an enjoyable visual sensation when it looked at the little space it made for itself, but was too exhausted to experience those said feelings currently. It walked over to the pile of paper and gently laid down, while holding its side near the area where Leroi had stabbed it with a needle. Ninety-nine after a few hours of contemplation, realized the bad feelings it got was likely pain. While it didnt necessarily understand what it exactly was feeling at the moment, given enough time, Ninety-nine could figure it out. The homunculus was intelligent after all, it just took a little time to understand its own feelings and sensations. However, it didnt figure out what it felt when it dumped Project 355 into the incinerator. It constantly thought about it while cleaning up and recording down the results of the experiment. Was it good! Or was it bad? The creature thought to itself. It didnt know how to categorize that feeling, and kept thinking about it while Ninety-nine closed its giant mono eye. Preparing to drift off into a dreamless sleep. However, it heard something. A strange sound. It opened its eye and listened carefully. Trying to figure out what it was hearing. It sounded like a conversation between multiple people, but it was like they were whispering to each other. The voices that could be heard might have been disturbing for another human being, but not for Ninety-nine. Ninety-nine got up and left the little sanctuary. It walked out into the center of the storage room, and continued to listen carefully, trying to figure out where the whispers were coming from. It walked around the room aimlessly, trying to get closer to the source of the sound. It walked by crates and metal drums full of chemicals. Eventually, it came upon an empty shelf. It was here that the whispers were the loudest. It looked around, but didnt see what was causing the noise. It placed the body right beside the shelf, and realized that the sound was coming from behind it. Ninety-nine walked to the side of the shelf and tried to push it to the side. It was a small shelf, only three feet high, but Ninety-nine was also a small and thin creature. So, it was still extremely difficult to move it. It pushed against the furniture with its entire weight. Eventually, with a great amount of effort from the homunculus, the shelf started to move. It made a high-pitched squeaking sound as the legs of the shelf rubbed against the floor. Ninety-nine could only manage to move it about a foot before it had to stop to rest. It was about to push again when it noticed something. Hidden behind the shelf was a small hole in the wall from where the shelf had been moved. It was surrounded by a bunch of cracks and was maybe six inches wide and two inches vertical in size, much too small even for Ninety-nine to fit through. Once the furniture was no longer obscuring the hole, the whisper became much louder. Ninety-nine concluded that the sound it was hearing was coming through this hole. It then looked at the wall the hole was on and started pondering for a little while. This was the wall that separated the buildings. In the past, the other side of this wall would have been the bakery next door, but the bakery wasn''t there anymore. Instead, it was that new neighbor''s store that would have been on the other side. What Ninety-nine heard sounded like it was possibly multiple voices conversing with each other, so it concluded that there must be more than one person living next door like the bakery before. It got closer to the hole and tried to peer inside, but only saw a black void. So, instead, it started listening very carefully. Now more able to clearly hear what was being said, the whispering it heard was nonsensical. It wasn''t a language that the homunculus understood. And yet, it knew what was being said. It didnt know the words, and yet understood the meaning behind them. It was a conversation about fate, time, the stars, and things beyond. If Ninety-nine had a normal human mind, it would have gone insane from what it was hearing. Instead, it was just confusing. It heard and understood what was being said, yet didnt. There was no way to properly explain the sensation of both understanding and not understanding the information it received. The complex topic of discussion was already confusing enough, but Ninety-nine was more curious about why it could understand what was being said, despite not understanding the language. It wondered this and wasn''t particularly a question to anyone, but it was answered. The whisper changed its tone and an answer was given to Ninety-nine as to why it understood what was being said. The explanation was: !^%$#error4&ty$*/(k:}l>g. A concept that the homunculus didnt understandfor it was not because the strange creature''s mind had trouble understanding certain conceptsbut it was an idea no mortal could comprehend what was said, let alone Ninety-nine. However, Ninety-nine immediately understood now that the voices on the other side of the wall were aware of its presence, and it was answering its queries. The artificial creature was incapable of speaking without a mouth, yet the voices on the other side of the wall seemed to know its thoughts. Ninety-nine asked if the voice could read its mind. The whispers answered with another alien concept the homunculus didnt understand, but the sentiment of what it heard was effectively the confirmation of what it asked. The voices seemed to effectively be able to read its mind. For the first time in its existence, someone else could understand Ninety-nine without having to write its intention down. Realizing it could converse with someone other than its creator, Ninety-nine got another strange feeling again, the feeling it got categorized as good. Excitement. The word popped into its mind from the voice. The whispering seemingly explained what it was feeling. Ninety-nine stood there thinking for a few seconds and realized that the voice was correct. Excitement was the best word to explain what it was feeling. The curiosity of the artificial creature grew and asked another question. The voices seemed to understand the emotion Ninety-nine was feeling and wanted to know if it could explain the feeling it had been pondering all day. The strange feeling it got when it dumped 355 into the incinerator. The whispers stopped and the room became silent. For a moment Ninety-nine thought that it might have asked something wrong, but the whisper echoed in the homunculuss mind once more. Ambivalence. That was the word it heard. Ambivalence? Ninety-nine thought to itself in confusion. It was not a word it knew. When Ninety-nine was created, knowledge of various kinds of things was automatically imprinted upon it. However, it was not like it gained knowledge of the entire dictionary. There were plenty of words it did not know about. Leroi would never bother to teach Ninety-nine anything like this. In the few opportunities it had to read and learn, such a word never came up. It then asked the whispers what ambivalence meant. This time the whisper explanation was not as confusing. It explained ambivalence as having two opposing feelings and ideas at the same time. At first, the homunculus didnt immediately understand and was about to ponder how applicable the term ambivalence was to what it felt, but the whisper continued to go on and explain. The voice explained that Ninety-nine felt happy when 355''s suffering was over, but also immediately felt sad that it had to die. Thus resulting in two opposing feelings at once. It made perfect sense to Ninety-nine now. The feeling it got really was this ambivalence. Such a strange feeling it was to the creature. The homunculus learned a new word. Ninety-nine would go on to converse more with the mysterious whispers, learning new things. ?????????????????? Two weeks went by since Ninety-nine first conversed with the whispers. Every day, after it was done with its chores and following Lerois orders, Ninety-nine would go to the small hole in the wall. It would listen to the whispers and ask questions. The homunculus was now constantly learning new things. On the surface, Ninety-nine looked like the same blue-skin homunculus that Leroi had created all those years ago, but the creature had gone through a massive transformation internally. Specifically, its mind had evolved. Through conversing with the voices, the artificial creature was now able to better understand its own emotions and mind. It didnt categorize its own feelings anymore as either good or bad. It was now able to properly identify what it was feeling at the moment it was experiencing it. Ninety-nine knowledge bases had also expanded. The homunculus used to only know about things within the confines of Lerois store, but it started to understand more things about the world around itself. And, possibly knew a few more things than even its creator on certain subjects. The voice answered any of all questions Ninety-nine had. It was generous with its knowledge. Through the time conversing with the mysterious whispers, Ninety-nine enhanced mind came to the conclusion that the person it was talking with, wasn''t a person. It didnt know what was on the other side of that wall, but there were too many things that the mysterious voice knew that were beyond human comprehension. However, the inhuman nature of the entity on the other side of the wall didnt bother Ninety-nine. It was just glad to be able to converse with something else that wasn''t its cruel creator. So, Ninety-nine kept the voice a secret from its creator. Leroi had yet to notice the hole in the wall, unlikely to even care if he did. There wasn''t anything super strange about the hole, for the alchemist never heard the whispers like Ninety-nine did. It was only Ninety-nine that heard the voice, but the homunculus didnt know that. As a precaution to ensure the hole wasn''t discovered, Ninety-nine would cover it up with a small empty cardboard box that could easily be moved. The blue-skinned homunculus was currently standing by the small hole in the wall. It had finished cleaning the store for the third time it was ordered today. Ninety-nine was stressed by the cleaning, mostly by its inability to reach up high. When Leroi looked around the store, he would see the dust on some of the upper shelves and order his creation to clean. Not being able to reach those shelves because of their short stature, and unable to climb because Leroi ordered Ninety-nine never to climb onto the shelf for fear of breaking something, It couldnt be cleaned properly. It was a constant cycle of Leroi seeing the same dirt on the upper shelves and then ordering Ninety-nine to clean. Never bothering to look towards the ground to see how clean everything was, or realizing that Ninety-nine cant clean the upper shelves because of previous orders. Whispers: Ish lo jinn, maka nooova mattta gouon, the voice said, in an inhuman language. I see. So there is more than one universe. I would have never guessed. Ninety-nine silently thought to itself. The homunculus came to speak with the voice as part of de-stressing itself. It found that learning new things was relaxing. Leroi: Ninety-nine! Were doing another experiment! Get down here now! he yelled out from the secret lab below. An emotion came over Ninety-nine, but unlike before how it would categorize those feelings, it knew exactly what it was feeling now. Dread, that was the word encapsulating what it felt. Ninety-nine knew that it was about to witness something horrible again and experience a bunch of pain. But, it had no choice. It heard Lerois order and was now magically compelled to go to the alchemist. It quickly covered the hole with a cardboard box and went through the motions of heading down into the secret laboratory. Leroi was already standing by the lab table where it had created 355. He was currently gathering a bunch of different chemicals, preparing to create another homunculus. Ninety-nine took the initiative this time and walked up to Leroi, sticking its arm out, preparing for the alchemist to extract its blood. Figuring if it was quick to offer its blood, Leroi wouldnt hurt it as much this time. Leroi looked down at the homunculus surprised. Hes never seen his homunculus take such initiative itself. Leroi: Huh? Guess you are finally learning, good, he said, not thinking anything particular about the creature''s actions. The alchemist took out a needle and extracted the creatures blood. While not as aggressive as last time, it still wasn''t pleasant for Ninety-nine. Leroi quickly slapped on another piece of industrial tape where he jabed the needle into the homunculus, and then immediately went back to its experiment. Ninety-nine climbed up onto another nearby table again, and watched the insane alchemist at work. He went through almost the exact same process. Mixing various types of chemicals, infusing the liquid with his aether, and waiting to make sure it was all the proper color. Once he got to the final step of adding the blood, he stopped. Instead, he pulled out a glass jar that was stored just beneath the table he was at. In the jar was the heart of 355. The organ was beating, despite being in a jar. Leroi had continued to experiment with the heart he got from his last attempt at creating a homunculus. He had managed to return life to the heart and make it beat despite being separated from its body. Thinking that the heart might be useful for his next attempt at homunculus creation, he saved the organ for this experiment. Ninety-nine could only glare at Leroi for this, but the alchemist didnt notice the death glare he was getting. Leroi dropped the beating heart into the liquid followed by Ninety-nines blood. Like before, the liquid started to ripple and turn red. But unlike last time, the liquid didnt turn into flesh. Instead, the liquid just turned from red to black and started filling the lab with a foul odor. Deformed bones and organs created from this process started to float to the surface of the black liquid. The experiment was a complete failure. A homunculus didnt even half-formed this time. Leroi: FUCK! I was sure adding the heart of a homunculus would do something. Where the fuck did I go wrong. This is all doomed to fail. Ninety-nine silently thought to itself. It had conversed with the voice from the wall about Lerois attempts at creating homunculus. The whisper told Ninety-nine that his creator would never succeed in creating a consistent method of making artificial creatures, not without the assistance of higher powers. Ninety-nine learned that the essence of alchemy was bringing order to chaos to create something different. So, trying to create life goes against the core of that practice. Life is fundamentally chaotic and order can not be entirely imposed upon it. It is why creating artificial life through alchemy is so random, its because of the chaotic nature of life itself. Life is spontaneous and random, coming into existence without rhyme or reason, then one day ceasing suddenly to exist. A process rooted in order could never truly replicate that, especially consistently. Leroi was applying a process that on paper should result in the creation of intelligent homunculus by removing the chaotic elements, but in doing that, he actually gets results like this. No living creature, just a black fetid pool of liquid with dead floating bones and organs in it. In fact, the whisper explained that trying to impose too much order on creating life simply causes it to die. If life is chaos, then the purest form of order would be the inverse of that, death. Ironically, Lerois attempt to try and create a consistent method makes it more unlikely that he will even create a living homunculus, let alone an intelligent one. The alchemist looked into the black pool in deep thought. He was trying to figure out where he had gone wrong this time. Leroi: "Uggghn. Go record this down. Ill call you when I need you to clean this, he said, directed at Ninety-nine. Ninety-nine continued to glare with an intense amount of enmity at Leroi. The alchemist was too busy looking at the black pool to notice. The artificial creature did what it was ordered, due to the magic that bound it to Leroi. The homunculus went through the motion of climbing back up to the storage room above. It then walked over to a nearby chair and table with an open book with a pen and inkwell on it. Ninety-nine began writing down the results of the experiment, all while thinking to itself. I hate this. Why does my master have to do this? He failed so many times already, and when hes successful, he creates existences like 355. Cant he see how much pain hes causing? Why is he so cruel? Ninety-nine thought to itself while continuing to write things down. Ninety-nine was quick with its report. It only took ten minutes to write the details of the report. It just wrote down that experiment 356 was a failure, and resulted in a foul-smelling black liquid. Once it was done, Ninety-nine decided to go converse with the whispers again. It wanted to ask why its creator was the way he was. The artificial creature walked over towards the wall with the hole. It removed the box covering the hole and prepared itself to start hearing the whispers again. However, as it removed the box, it noticed the hole had changed. It was bigger. The hole was originally a tiny thing, but now it was big enough for Ninety-nine to stick one of its tiny arms through it. The bigger hole was now surrounded by deep cracks in the wall, likely as a result of the increased size. Ninety-nine looked at the change that occurred to the hole and then got a little excited. It got really close to the gap and peered inside, hoping that with the hole widened, it would finally be able to see the person on the other side of the wall. All it saw was a black void that it couldnt see beyond. The alchemical creature felt a strange compulsion. It didnt know what was causing it, but it felt like sticking an arm into the hole. Despite Ninety-nine new improved abilities of discernment, it complied with the strange compulsion it was feeling. It reached into the hole as far as it could. Ninety-nine pushed its whole body against the wall to try and get its arm in as deep as possible. Ninety-nine felt something brush against its hand. It felt slimy, dry, hot, and cold all at once. A strange sensation that it didnt have a proper word to describe. It was about to quickly pull its arm out when it felt the weight of something landed in Ninety-nines hand. The creature slowly pulled its arm out and stared at what had landed in its palm. In its hand, laid a small sealed glass ampoule with a strange black liquid sloshing around in it. It looked at the strange liquid and wondered what it was. Twilight Elixir. The word suddenly pops into Ninety-nines head. The voices Ninety-nine suddenly heard from the hole were no longer whispering. It was audible, clear, and felt more far-reaching than previously. Each alien word it heard rang in Ninety-nines mind with a sensation that was both neurotic and euphoric. The thing on the other side of the wall was explaining something to Ninety-nine. It was telling the homunculus to sneak that liquid it gave into Lerois food without him noticing. It then went on to explain to Ninety-nine how to achieve its true and complete freedom ?????????????????? Leroi slowly came to consciousness, feeling groggy. He had been lying on his back sleeping, but didnt recall ever going to bed. The last memory he had was drinking some tea that he ordered Ninety-nine to make for him. He slowly opened his eyes and rather than seeing the roof of his bedroom, it was the roof of his lab. He tried to move his head to look around, but couldnt move his neck. In fact, he couldnt move anything. He was completely paralyzed, the only exception seemed to be his eyes. His eyes frantically looked around to try to understand what was going on. His head was propped up against something, so he could at least see his chest and the area in front of him. From where he was lying, Leroi could see a bunch of shelves and tables with alchemical equipment on them. He could tell from the position of everything, that he was currently on the operating table in the lab. Whats going on? Why am I on the operating table? He thought to himself confused. There was nothing to answer his query. He could only lay there, unable to move. Ten minutes went by, then another twenty more before a full two hours went by. Nothing was happening, and Leroi was starting to worry. He had to hope that whatever was causing his paralysis would eventually wear off. Otherwise, he would eventually die here, unable to take care of any of his bodily needs. With the hours that went by, Leroi thought that this was some sort of combination of sleep paralysis and sleepwalking. Otherwise, he had no other rational explanation of what was going on. His concern shifted to the back of his mind as he heard something outside from his line of sight. It sounded like glass bottles bumping into each other along with liquid sloshing in some sort of metal container. Leroi couldnt tell what it was, but it was close. The sounds were coming from somewhere below beside him. He saw someone placing glass bottles full of various liquids beside his body on the table. Leroi couldnt see exactly who or what was doing that, but he did recognize some of the chemicals. They were the chemicals that he kept in his lab. It was various types of harsh disinfectants used to clean and sterilize tools. Then he saw what looked to be his scalpel also being placed beside the bottles, along with a few other operating tools. OH LIGHT NO! Is someone about to operate on me! Is this some sort of nightmare?! He silently thought to himself, as intense panic overtook him. His panic calmed as he saw a small blue figure climb on top of the table. It was Ninety-nine. The small blue creature looked up and down at Leroi and then at the chemicals placed on the chemicals placed on the table. Oh good. Its just Ninety-nine. He thought to himself, as he started to calm down. The alchemist was thinking that Ninety-nine was trying to do something to help him. Leroi thought that maybe he had lost consciousness in the lab from some fumes. It wouldnt have been the first time that accidentally happened. And, Ninety-nine found him unconscious and placed his body on the table in the meantime. This was the explanation Leroi was constructing in his head at what was going on. Leroi didnt feel threatened by the artificial creature. Ninety-nine was magically bound to him, so he wasn''t worried that it would do anything harmful to him. He believed the magic that helped create the homunculus wouldn''t allow it. However, there were several fatal flaws in that assumption. The magic used to create a homunculus only makes them do what they are ordered, but what if they cant hear the order of their master. And, the assumption that homunculus cant hurt their creator is also wrong. These creatures are usually not smart enough to threaten their masters, and even if they were smart enough to do so, that would also mean they were smart enough to know they would die without their creators supplying them aether. But, what if an intelligent homunculus didnt care or was worried about surviving. In such a bizarre scenario, the only thing that would keep a homunculus from hurting an alchemist would be a direct order not to harm them. In Ninety-nine''s entire existence, it never received such a direct order as not to harm Leroi. Any sense Leroi had that Ninety-nine was trying to help quickly evaporated once he saw it pick up a scalpel. The small blue creature walked over to Lerois abdomen and lifted up his shirt. Ninety-nine then made a small vertical incision that was deep enough to break the skin and draw blood. It continued to carefully slice through muscle tissue and fat until eventually his intestines were exposed to the air. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!?! The alchemist thought to himself as panic returned to him tenfold. Leroi was unable to say or do anything as he watched this happen. The strange paralysis he currently experienced didnt subside at all. The only saving grace was that he didnt feel any of this, sparing him from the pain of having his stomach cut open. It was a small mercy. Ninety-nine continued to cut away, making the incision in Lerois abdomen bigger. Eventually, the homunculus dropped the scalpel and reached right inside the hole it made. It grabbed Leois intestine and pulled them out. Long strands of intestines shimmering with a layer of mucus were just casually pulled out in front of Leroi without any concern. The creature kept pulling until the entrails went taut. Ninety-nine kept pulling, but it was too slimy and would just slip through its fingers. It then picked back up the scalpel and severed whatever the intestine was attached to that was preventing it from being completely removed. Blood oozed everywhere from the cut, splattering all over Ninety-nine, but the artificial creature didnt pay it any mind. Ninety-nine just tossed the entrails off to the side beyond Lerois vision, landing somewhere with a went splat. Seeing this horror, Leroi mustered every ounce of his willpower to try and move, trying to do anything to stop this. This was a nightmare that couldnt go on. If he didnt do anything, he would die at this rate, if it wasn''t already too late. He knew If I could speak a single command to Ninety-nine, this would all stop. Leroi: Ermm, he quietly moaned. All that effort, and Leroi only could make a low moan. A moan that wouldnt be able to communicate any clear order. However, that moan didnt go unnoticed. Ninety-nine stopped what it was doing and looked over at Lerois face where it heard the moan. It finally noticed its creator staring at it. Slowly with a scalpel in hand, it walked over close to Lerois face. It then raised its blade up high. Leoroi was wide-eyed in terror, as he expected Ninety-nine to bring down the blade and stab him in the head. However, instead of stabbing Leroi, Ninety-nine stabbed itself in the chest area a foot below its giant eye. It dragged the blade horizontally across, crudely cutting itself open and splattering more blood all over Lerois face. The alchemist looked on in revulsion at the bloody display of self-mutilation, which was then followed by horror. Looking in the new gaping wound the homunculus carved into itself, Leroi saw a row of teeth and a long purplish tongue. Leroi thought the homunculus didnt have a mouth, but the truth was that it did. It was hidden and covered up by skin that had overgrown the opening during its original creation. Neither Leroi nor the homunculus knew about that fact, only the whisper in the wall knew, who then told Ninety-nine. Ninety-nine long tongues licked at the area where it cut its mouth open. Ninety-nine: Hmmm. I-I f-fix, it struggled to say as blood spits out of the gaping hole of its mouth. The paralyzed man''s eyes almost popped out of his head from shock. Ninety-nine was actually speaking. Leroi always knew that the creature was smart enough to talk based on the fact the creature was capable of writing. It was still surreal for the alchemist to hear. The alchemist completely forgot about the hole in his stomach and his intestines thrown on the floor for the moment, becoming fixated on Ninety-nine. How he wished he wasn''t paralyzed and could speak to his creation. There was a lot of inefficiency when communicating with Ninety-nine through writing, but if he was able to speak, Leroi thought there would be so much more to learn. His mind imagined the things he could talk to it about. Ninety-nine: I-I-I fix you too. I m-make you less y-you, it stuttered, before smiling at its maker with its mutilated mouth. Leroi was brought back to his current situation, wide-eyed with renewed terror. Ninety-nine would continue to hack away at Leroi. ?????????????????? John was sitting at a table on the main floor of his store. He had just spent hours attempting to clean up around the Mystic Emporium, only to realize it was pointless. The man from another world was a bit of a neat freak and would clean and organize things around him. The problem was that things would constantly move when he wasn''t looking. Books would appear and disappear on different shelves, furniture would move from a different corner of the room to another, and boxes full of objects would suddenly be found empty for only two seconds later to be found somewhere else. It all made organizing anything impossible in this store. It had been two weeks since he came to this world and he was still learning the ins and outs of everything, including the nature of his store. He sat there feeling defeated from all the time he wasted trying to organize everything. As he sat there, he heard the bell to his front door ring. He sat up attentive and a bit excited at someone actually walking into this store. This would be the first person, that he was aware of, to come into the Mystic Emporium. But, his excitement quickly turned sour. The person who walked in was Leroi with his lab coat. Looking more portly than John remembered. He saw John sitting at a table at the back of the store and walked over to him a bit robotically before just stopping in front of the table. Leroi: Can I speak with you? John: Ah, yeah sure, he said. John didnt really want to talk to Leroi. He remembered that his last interaction was unpleasant. But, decided to try and be the better person and talk to him anyway. Leroi: I just wanted to apologize to you for how I acted and what I said when we first met. John: Oh? he mumbled, surprised. Leroi: I was having a bad time when you tried talking to me. Im sorry about that. I shouldnt be taking my frustration out on other people. John: Its OK. Do you mind if I ask you what it was that upset you back then? Leroi: I was just conducting some experiments and it wasn''t going well for me. John: What kind of experiment, if you dont mind me asking, he said, curious to know what his neighbor was working on. Leroi: I wouldnt worry about that now. Ive pretty much put it behind me now. As Leroi said that, one of his eyes opened wide and started to look around erratically interdependent of the other. It was kinda unnerving for John and weirded him out. John: Um, are you OK? Leroi quickly grabbed the side of his head and covered the rapidly moving eye with the palm of his hand. Leroi: Sorry. Its a condition. I sometimes lose control of my body. Oh, does he have something like Parkinson''s? John wondered if such a disease like that existed in this mysterious world. Leroi: I''ve forgotten to take my medicine for it. I should probably go take it now. I just wanted to apologize and hope that youll forgive me. And, maybe we could be friends? John''s eyes opened wide with surprise and excitement. This would be his first opportunity to actually make a friend in this world. John: Of course! And, I hope your condition gets better. Leroi: Thank you. I think it will eventually get better soon, he said with a smile while still holding his eye. Leroi got up and quietly left through the front door of the Mystic Emporium. ?????????????????? Leroi just entered through the front door of the Bubbling Beaker. He locked the door behind himself, walked over to a nearby chair, and took a seat. His right eye was still bugging out and looking around erratically, but he seemed to ignore it. Slowly, Leroi started to unbutton his lab coat. He wasn''t wearing anything under the lab coat and his chest was laid out bare. As he started to open up the lower half of his lab coat, where his abdomen would have been was a cylindrical metal tube that encompasses the entirety of his midsection. It was bulky, making Leroi look a little chubby while he wore his lab coat over it. Lerois whole body suddenly went limp as he slumped back into the chair, his one eye constantly twitching and looking around. The front of the metal cylinder shifted and slowly swung outward to reveal a one-eyed creature, possessing a mouth that looked more like an open wound, sitting inside where Lerois stomach would have been. Ninety-nine had ripped out all the organs from around his creator''s abdomen to allow itself to fit inside while reinforcing it with metal. From there it followed the instructions of the voice in the wall and modified the alchemist''s body in horrific ways. The modification allowed the Ninety-nine to pilot Leroi with two fleshy tubes that looked similar to an umbilical cord, connecting the back of the artificial creatures body to Lerois spine. The homunculus had managed to accomplish all this thanks to the twilight elixir it sneaked into Lerois food. Twilight Elixir is a cruel potion from another world beyond where Ninety-nine resides. It was a mad scientist''s attempt at creating a substance to make himself immortal. It worked by permanently putting someone on the edge of death and life. A state where you''re not dead, but also not alive. Not too dissimilar to some forms of undeath. However, the drawback of twilight elixir was severe. Once consumed, you become permanently paralyzed, but remain completely aware and unable to truly die. Due to how that potion worked, even if you''re cut up into thousands of pieces, youd still be technically alive. Leroi could get his head chopped off and he would still be conscious and aware with no possibility of the relief of death. Leroi being in this state would allow Ninety-nine to endlessly modify his body, without fear of its creator dying. And with its creator alive, the homunculus'' continued existence was assured, with Leroi still being able to supply Ninety-nine with the aether it needed to live. The paralyzed Leroi would every once in a while try to exert control of his body, resulting in some erratic movements. But, he would never be able to recover from the effects of the twilight elixir, never to be able to speak or move properly without Ninety-nines help. He no longer had control over the homunculus, or even his own body. Doomed to be nothing more than a meat puppet to his creation for the rest of his existence. An existence that may never end. A horrific irony. Ninety-nine looked up at shelves of the store from the cavity in Lerois stomach it carved out for itself. It smiled as the creature realized that it would finally be able to reach the top of the shelf to clean the dust with Lerois help. Chapter 48 - Talks With Disciple And His Teacher Cid was walking down Eld street after just talking to John. He passed by a strange man with a weird cane that looked kinda like it had a skull for the pommel. He got a strange feeling from this person, but pushed any curiosity he had about it out of his mind. Since he met John, he had been coming to Eld street for over five weeks now. So Cid was used to seeing all kinds of weird people around here. This was the east end of the city; the majority of the citys mutants lived here. If you wanted to see a fantastical array of characters, then this was the place to be. You could find people with cat faces, dog tails, claws, extra limbs, gills, wings, strange skin and hair coloration, paws, scales, fur, etc. Every combination of human and inhuman traits existed here. So Cid quickly learned not to pay too much attention to the people around the east end. It might have come off rude if he gawked at every person he walked by. He continued walking down Eld street, passing a few mutants. One of them having the head of a bloodhound who watched him go by. Some of them gave Cid a curious glance at seeing a university student walking around in the middle of the day, but most seem to not pay him too much attention. A few even recognize the Shroom Pact student from previous times hes come around. The people living around here were used to seeing university students come and go, but that was mostly in the evening. Students would sometimes walk through Eld street to get to the Red Light District, with the purpose of partaking in the unique activities offered there. So seeing someone like Cid during the daywhen many establishments of the Red Light district are not yet open could be seen as a little strange. Cid eventually made it to the end of the street, just before getting into the Red Light district. He then turned towards the tea shop, Cait teahouse, the reason for him regularly visiting this street. He was to meet with the infamous Alexandria Scarlett at this place today, like he had been doing so every week. He walked through the front of the store. The teahouse was devoid of customers with the exception of a goat man sitting by a nearby table. From his constant visits, Cid realized that the mutant goat person was more than just a regular customer, he had some sort of connection with Scarlett. Along with the staff, the mutant goat man actively tried to hide and cover up the store''s connection to the Scarlet witch. The goat man was likely just pretending to be a customer, but was secretly working for the same people helping Scarlett. Cid thought he might be something like a secret bouncer. The people here hid Scarlett, but were clearly no friend to her. They held some sort of animosity towards her that was on visible display every time she was mentioned, which he didnt understand. He had asked his teacher, Scarlett, what that was about, but she told him not to worry about it. She said they just dislike her because they purposely make her life more annoying than it had to be, so she retaliated by making their lives also difficult. It seemed strange to him that people that seem to actively hate each other were working together, but decided not to question it. Besides, Scarlett wouldn''t really expand on it when he asked. Cid walked up to the counter and greeted the waitress, Lise, who was standing by the register. Cid: Good afternoon, Lise. he said, in a friendly manner. Lise: Go fuck youself, she aggressively responded. For a while now, Cid was catching strays from the hostility the staff had for Scarlett, due to his association with her. He was pretty sure they didn''t know the exact nature of their relationship, but due to the constant visits he keeps making to Scarlett, they knew he was important to her somehow. Despite the hostility against Cid, he continued to keep his cool and be polite. Cid: Is you know who in? Lise: YES! She always fucking in when you show up! Just go to the back and see her already! You dont need to come talk with me everytime you come to see her. So just stop talking to me and go fuck off already. Cid: Nice to see you too, he said with a fake smile. Lise just flip off Cid. Cid walked to a door at the back of the store. He looked around the store one last time. Lise seemed to be still fuming mad, but the goat man and the other waiter didnt seem to acknowledge his presence. He pulled open the door and made his way down to the broken freezer. He then tapped on the freezer wall in a specific pattern, opening a secret door leading into a secret underground area from there. He walked through the secret door and down the step into a dark hallway. He was told before by Scarlett that this underground passage used to be part of an old insane asylum. She had discovered it years ago while she was still teaching at the university and used the abandoned underground tunnels to make a safehouse, where she used to store some of her more questionable materials, away from the university. Cid walked by a number of steel metal doors until he came face to a larger metal door with a giant turn wheel on it. The number 1313 was carved into the frame of the door. Reaching out to the turnwheel, he grabbed it in two places and slowly turned it counterclockwise. A loud clunking sound was made and the bolts of the door retracted back into it. Cid then just gently pulled the door open. Inside was a room covered in purple velvet walls with a diamond pattern. It was brightly lit. There was a large fancy rectangular table in the center of the room with many chairs around it. Sitting in one of the chairs at one end of the table was Scarlett. In front of her was a teapot with an odd black and white design on it. She wasn''t doing anything particular, just relaxing while sipping on some tea from a strange looking tea set. She looked up and greeted Cid. Scarlett: Hello. Ah, I see you visited John. Cid: How can you tell? She pointed at the bag of herbs Cid was carrying. Scarlett: You cant get those from just anywhere. Cid: Oh, yeah. He told me to give this to you, he said as he took a seat beside Scarlett and handed the bag of dried herb to her. Scarlett: He must really trust you to deliver these herbs to me, she said as she received the herbs. Cid: Do you think so? Is there some meaning to this Im not seeing? Scarlett: These are leaves from an otherworldly tree and are beyond precious. You wouldnt give this to just anyone to deliver. It would have to be someone you trusted enough not to run off with it. Cid: Well, I wouldnt have run off even if I knew it was worth a lot of money. Scarlett: Heh. Its not just that these leaves are worth a lot of money. These leaves are the key ingredient to brewing an elixir of immortality. Something that I think a lot of people would pay anything and kill for. Cid had a surprised face. Cid: T-these leaves can make you i-i-immortal, he said, shocked at what he heard. Scarlett: Well, I say you can make a potion of immortality out of this, but its not true immortality. It just reverses aging, returning one to their prime while healing the soul. You still will eventually die if you dont consume that elixir every century. The clarification Scarlett gave didnt make these leaves sound any less impressive to Cid. Potions that could extend life were exceptionally rare. The most one could extend their lifespan was maybe a decade at most, and those potions had diminishing returns, becoming less effective the more you used them. They also didnt necessarily reverse the effects of aging, they just made you live longer. The kind of potion Scarlett was describing sounded like it could reverse the effect of aging, and could extend a person''s life by a century, while possibly being able to be consumed indefinitely without it decreasing in effectiveness. If true, this would be the greatest life extending potion ever, something not thought possible. It was almost as effective as true immortality. Just one step below it. Cid: A-and I was just carrying this around casually! Scarlett: I doubt many know that these kinds of leaves exist. Probably no one paid you any mind about it while you walked here. I bet even you thought it was just a common bag of dried tea. It was the same for me when John gave me those leaves. Cid: Uh, yeah. I guess. But, he said nothing about that. Didnt even hint at it. Scarlett: Remember, hes coy. Maybe he did hint at this and you didnt notice, But, maybe it was more of a test of trust to show me that you''re reliable. Cid: Again, even if I did know what that was, I still wouldnt run off with it. Scarlett: Hm, good thing too. Youd be dead if you did. Cid: I know. You or someone else would hunt me down. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Scarlett: No, that is not the issue. I would assume if you ran off with these leaves, you would be intending to use them to extend your life. However, you can''t just pop these leaves into your mouth and youll live longer. You have to brew them in a particular way. Otherwise, these are deadly poisonous. Cid: And I take it that these leaves arent easy to make a potion with. Scarlett: Oh yes. You''re very much correct. Im not even entirely sure there is any human that could brew a potion with them. Well, not by themselves, but maybe with the help of a potentially powerful and otherworldly being, she said as she looked at the teapot that John gave her years ago. Cid: Oh, this again. You still think Mr Li is some sort of ancient being, like an outsider. he said, referring to a past conversation he had with Scarlett. Scarlett: Maybe not an outsider, but I definitely think hes not human. Anyways, a little fox told me about something interesting that happened at the university. Was that you? Cid: Hmm, I didnt think the news would get out so fast. Scarlett: It hasn''t, Im just really well connected. I know someone died, but not the details of who and how. Cid: It was me. I killed Sorin Black. Scarlett: Ha, so it was that bastard. Cid: Oh, yeah. I forget that you used to work at the university. Did you know him? Scarlett: He was just one of the many assistant professors working under Archmage Dakka Vinko when I was there. Not really the most outstanding of all of Dakka assistants, so nothing really notable to say. I just remember him leering at me one timeforever leaving a bad impression of him on me. And, not to sound upset or anything about this, since I don''t give a damn what happens to the university, but why kill him? Cid: He was conducting necromantic experiments on students, turning them into undead puppets that were indistinguishable from living people. Scarlett: Ho ho ho, she said with a cocky smile. Now why would he do that? Cid: As I understand, he was using these undead students to try and control their parents, who were all powerful people. Scarlett: Oohh my. I wish I could see Dakkas face right now. Scratch that. I want to see the expression of all the university leadership. Once this gets out, it''s going to make them all look so bad. This event is going to haunt them for years. Good job, Cid, she said, while pointing her thumb in approval. Cid: Uh, thanks? I didnt really do this to ruin anyone''s reputation. Scarlett: Thats a good point. Why did you do this? You never came across as the heroic type to me. Cid: Thanks to the guidance I received from Mr Li, I was able to calculate the near future to a degree. I determined that Sorins undead would eventually bother Mr Li. I took it upon myself to remove the undead and the source before that happened. Scarlett: Oh, I see. That makes sense. I take it that you made sure that Sorin''s death couldn''t be linked back to you? Cid recalled for a brief moment about the three people he let go, but he was confident that he scared them into silence. So he was sure nothing about him would be revealed. Cid: There shouldn''t be anything to worry about. Scarlett: Good. So it was through John you acquired the gift of foresight, based on the way you''re talking about something that was to happen in the future. Cid: Not really. Its a lot more complicated than that. Scarlett: Obviously. Things that involve John are always complicated . But what I''m saying is that at the base of the power you received, it sounds like some sort of divination. Unless I''m missing something? Cid: Again, it is not even that. And just to be clear, I''m not hiding the power John gave me from you or anything. I just dont know how to explain. It''s like, we all exist in a giant mathematical code, and I can see it. Which allows me to sorta calculate the future by using numerology, but not really. Um, ugh. Im not sure I described that right. Ill try to think of a better way of explaining and tell you later. Scarlett: Ah, dont worry about it. I think I sorta get what you''re saying. Cid: I dont think you do. The ability I received is not limited to divination. Its more than that. But like I said, I dont know how to explain it. Scarlett: Call it my intuition, but it sounds to me the reason you dont know how to explain is that you are still learning exactly what you received from John. Cid looked up at the roof for a brief moment and thought about what Scarlett said before speaking again. Cid: Hmm, you might be no. You''re definitely right. Scarlett: I know I''m right. The signs of a master in their craft is being able to explain it to others. If you cant do that, then you still have a lot to learn. Cid: Sigh, yeah. It would be a lot easier if I could ask Mr Li directly about it. There are still a lot of things I don''t completely understand, like why was my calculation off in some instances. Scarlett: Cant help you there. Whatever you got from Mr Li is probably something only he really knows. And hell only explain things in great vagueness, so I understand your plight. I often have trouble interpreting John''s words as well. Actually, you just came from talking to John, did he say anything related to the power you received? Cid: Um, I dont think so. I just went there to tell him about what happened last night. Scarlett: He probably already knew what happened. Cid: I know. I did it out of courtesy. Scarlett: How about we go over what he said with you. I spent more time with John than you, and have gotten pretty good at understanding what he tries to subtly convey. Cid: Hmm. Where do I begin? Um, I told him I got rid of Sorin by saying I got rid of the source of the pest. Scarlett: Oh. Was it your idea to refer to Sorin as a pest? Cid: No. When I first asked John about what was going on with the undead at the university, he referred to the whole thing as a pest problem, and suggested for me to create a trap. Since I couldn''t calculate who was creating these undead at the time. Scarlett: He probably would look down at that whole situation as if it was just a cockroach problem, she said, not realizing that John really did think it was just a regular cockroach problem. Cid: Yeah. Um, after I indirectly talked about Sorins death, he didn''t respond much about it. Scarlett: If a child steps on a bug, would you care, or even acknowledge it? Cid: I guess not. After I said that, I thinkI just told him I was going to meet you and he gave me that bag with the immortal herb stuff. Then I just came here. Scarlett: Thats it? Cid: I didnt talk to him for very long. Scarlett: No hints or anything. Cid: He didn''t say anything else. Wait, um. I guess he told me to keep my head down. Scarlett: Pardon? she said, looking more attentive. Cid: He warned that there would be a lot of media attention about Sorin soon. Said I should avoid the public eye while that happens. Which I was going to do anyway. Scarlett: Cidwhat did he exactly say, she said, starting to sound a bit more serious and concerned. Noticing the sudden change in Scarletts demeanor, Cid straightened his posture and also became a little unnerved. Cid: Um, um, I think he said: trouble is brewing at the university and to keep my head down were the exact words. Im pretty sure he was referring to the media fallout that was about to happen at the university. Scarlett immediately stood up and walked over to Cid. He looked up at Scarlett, confused. She suddenly grabbed Cids face and pulled him slightly forward toward herself. Scarlett brought her own face close to his and then stared at him with her piercing red eyes. The intensity she was staring at him made Cid feel nervous. Cid: Um, what are you doing? Scarlett: Quiet, Im making sure there is no weird magic on you. Scarlett gathered aether into her eyes and activated her eyes of truth ability. The aether inside Cid became clearly visible to her. It looked kinda like a gray flame that''s burning inside his body. She quickly pulled and turned Cids head side to side, carefully examining him. She saw nothing strange, only that it seems Cid had absolutely no elemental affinity, as the color of the aether she saw determined that, and gray ment there was no affinity. But, she already knew that. What she was looking for was any other aether on him that was not his own, which would indicate if he was being affected by someone elses magic. She couldnt see anything like that and gave a sigh of relief. Glad to see she wasn''t going to lose another disciple, at least not immediately. Scarlett: Good, there is no curse on you or anything else like that I could see. Cid: Whats going on? Why would there be a curse on me? Scarlett: Its because of what John said. Cid: But he didnt he was immediately cut off by Scarlett. Scarlett: Cid you FOOL! I have never heard John give such a direct warning like this. He always feigns ignorance and hides his words. The fact he directly warned you like this must mean its serious. Cid: W-what do you mean? Scarlett: Cid, in the time that I have known John, hes never expressed any concern about my safety. Even when I went into a dangerous situation, he never said anything like stay safe or be careful. I now know he never said those kinds of things because he knew I would be alright. But, that doesn''t sound like its the case for you. Cid had a look of shock at what Scarlett just said. Cid: Really!?! I-If thats true, what is it that I''m being warned about? he said, fully buying into the idea that John''s words were a great warning. Scarlett: I dont know. The warning was clear, but the meaning is still hidden. Ugh, damn it. I wish he would just say what it was, instead of hiding his words, she said as sat back down in her seat. Lets go over what he said again. What were his exact words? Be as specific as possible. Cid: Um, trouble is brewing at the university and to keep my head down until the trouble passes. Is what was said, I think. Scarlett: Hmm, so it''s something to do with the university. So, maybe we should remove you from that place for the time being if that is where the danger is coming from. Cid: John did say to keep my head down. So I can only imagine he was telling me to try and go unnoticed. Scarlett: Youre probably right, so moving you might draw too much attention. Hmm, and he did seem to hint that this trouble would eventually pass. So maybe just keeping a low profile like he suggested might be good enough. But, I feel like were missing something. Cid: I-Im sorry. I might not have remembered what he told me properly. I didnt think too much into what he said at the time, he said, regretting not paying more close attention to Johns words. Scarlett: Well, be sure to pay closer next time. Assuming, you survive whatever is to happen. Cid was starting to look anxious. Scarlett noticed this and spoke up. Scarlett: Dont worry. Youre my disciple. I wont let anything happen to you, she said, trying to reassure Cid. Cid: Thanks he said, feeling a little bit better. Scarlett: Sigh, Ill make some preparations to help keep you safe if something really does happen. But in the meantime, follow Johns advice and dont draw attention to yourself. Cid: Ok, he said with a nod. Scarlett: Become a recluse if you have to. And, dont stick your neck out for anybody right now. Chapter 49 - Seeking Advice For A Broken Soul Outsider. When that term is used in the context of talking about planes of existence, it has a very different meaning. Outsiders, in simplest terms, are any beings that are born and exist outside of our world. These entities are exceptionally powerful. The exact number of outsiders that exist outside of our reality is unknown. Due to existing beyond our reality, outsiders can not freely enter our existence. Our world creates a sort of natural barrier that prevents such entities from manifesting on our plane. However, using special summoning rituals, that natural law can be circumvented to a degree. As of the year 3134, there are three categories of outsider: hostile, indifferent, and unknown. Each of those categories is based on the outsider''s general temperament towards life on our plane, and thankfully the majority of known outsiders seem to fall under the category of indifferent. Such entities as demons are classified as hostile. A powerful type of outsider believed to be born out of malice. They often take the form of humanoid beings with wings and horns. These entities seem to hate all life and will tempt people with promises of power to actively ruin lives. All known records on how to summon these types of beings have been destroyed thousands of years ago in both the West and East in what is known as the Lix Purge. Demons have not been seen on the western continent since then. Another type of outsider is the whispers, who are classified as indifferent. These entities take the form of something that looks like flowing black cloth that is vaguely in the shape of a humanoid. These creatures are not hostile and relatively harmless, but become hostile when people attempt to summon them. They show no interest in our world and dont want to be on our plane, but people have still attempted to forcefully summon them as a means to gain knowledge, as these entities are thought to know all secrets. Then there are the most widely known of all the outsiders, the Nameless Gods. They are of the unknown class, but it has been debated that they may be of the hostile variety. There is no information on what these entities look like, as there are no known summoning rituals to summon these entities, and what is known of them is only tangential. These beings have never manifested on our plane of existence and any communication made with them was through a cultist, whose claims are unreliable. The motivation of these beings, if they have any, is unknown. So, while people might have heard about them, they might be the least understood of all the known outsiders. While these three types of outsiders are confirmed to exist, they are far from the only. There are still reports and claims of countless other types of outsiders. In the coming years, more types of outsiders will likely be identified. Knowledge on how to summon outsiders is extremely restricted and illegal, due to the danger these creatures pose to everyone. Spheres of Existence Volume 3 by Archmage Jenna Lor An hour had gone by and Cid had just left, leaving Scarlett by herself. Alone in the secret safe house under the Cait Teahouse, she sat there sipping a liquid from a tea set she had received from John. The liquid in her cup was not actually tea, it was a potion of immortality. The exact same she mentioned to Cid earlier. Scarlett named the mysterious teapot she received from John the Soul Sipping Pot. It had the power to brew eternity and was the only thing she knew that could possibly process the leaves of Yggdrasil. Without the soul-sipping pot, those leaves could only make a liquid that would send a person''s soul instantly to the afterlife. The potion the Soul Sipping Pot brewed was what saved her all those years ago. She never truly recovered from what her former students did. The ritual performed in the Wildlands had stripped away years of her life and damaged her aether veins almost beyond repair. But, the most sinister thing about that ritual was that it also damaged the soul. Recovery from what happened was already a difficult task that was only made possible thanks to John, but what was done to her soul was even more tricky. There was a general consensus in the mage community that souls cant be healed. The damage to her soul was so severe that it also affected her ability to use aether, which she originally thought was her damaged aether veins that were the cause. That was why for many years after her betrayal, she wasn''t able to use her full power until she started consuming this elixir. The potion she brewed with the leaves of Yggdrasil had the power to heal souls, along with the effect of age reversal and life extension. In theory, this potion should have been able to completely heal her, but the potion can not heal what is not there. Scarletts soul was not just damaged, a chunk of it was missing. Something she only realized after briefly touching the afterlife when she collapsed in her safe house after meeting John. Just like there is no way to heal a missing limb without some exceptional power, there is no way to heal missing chunks of the soul without something unheard of. Being able to heal a soul was already considered something impossible, and she still needed something beyond that for the missing pieces of her soul. The elixir she was drinking could keep her soul temporarily stable, but she had to keep drinking it regularly or risk what was left of her soul separating from her body and immediately dying. She was frankly unbelievably lucky that the few years after the Wildland event, her soul didnt completely separate. That time in the past when she collapsed in her safe house and thought she was dying, was her soul separating and starting to leave her body. Thankfully, she had consumed the elixir of immortality just moments before that happened, avoiding a complete separation. If she had gone one more day without meeting John back then, she would be dead. She stared at the soul-sipping pot and was reminded of her situation. I know one day John will fully restore my broken soul, but until then, Ill continue following his will. she thought to herself with misplaced faith in John. She believed that John was not human, and held secrets beyond even the Nameless Gods. But, whatever she thought he was, she knew he was a kind being. And honestly believed that, in his own mysterious way, was working toward eventually fully healing her soul. But, I need to figure out what his will is first. she thought to herself, before standing up. She pulled one of the rings off her finger and laid it on the table in front of her. She then channeled a tiny amount of aether into it. The ring suddenly started to expand in size until it was about 2 feet (60 centimeters) in diameter. The ring was a storage ring. A special type of arcane tool that stores items in a small portable space, as its name would suggest. These kinds of rings are rare as they''re very difficult to craft for enchanters. Fortunately, Scarlett was an archmage of enchantment and the best enchanter on the continent. It was no trouble for her to make such a thing. The air in the center of the ring shimmered. She reached her hand into the center of the ring and it suddenly disappeared. Her arm moved around, rummaging in some unseen space until she pulled out what looked like a nearly empty bag of dried leaves. Scarlett: Hmm, I had fewer leaves than I thought, she said while looking at the nearly empty bag. I guess its good that he sent some more, she said as she looked at the leaves Cid had brought her. She then put the nearly empty bag of leaves back into the ring along with the other bag Cid brought. Reaching into the ring once more, she pulled out a box with soft padding on the inside made to store delicate dishes. Walking around the table, she picked up the tea cup and soul-sipping pot and gently put them in a box before placing them inside the storage ring. Scarlett activated the ring once more and it began to shrink back down. She then placed it back on her finger and quickly left the safe house and out into the dark hallway. While walking down the dimly lit hallway, she grabbed another one with her rings on her hand and twisted it. Her form shimmered and then suddenly her hair color changed to blonde and her eyes turned green. The structure of her face was altered slightly. Once all the change settled in, she looked like someone else. This was another one of Scarletts enchanted tools she made, a ring of illusion. Design to create an illusion that changes her appearance just enough to be unrecognizable to most. The illusion wasn''t good enough to hide from the eyes of a discerning mage, but it was good enough for her purpose. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. She continued to walk down the hallway up to the stairwell and out onto the main floor of the teahouse. There was no one in the shop except the two waitresses and a goat mutant man named Thom, who all turned their heads towards Scarlett. The moment they saw her they started glaring at her. The dislike of Scarlett they were demonstrating was almost palpable. She responded in kind by also glaring back at them. The employees at this store and the mutant pretending to be a customer all worked for someone Scarlett despised. Scarlett was a petty person. Simply by association with the person these people work for, was enough for her to not like them. She also went out of her way to make these people''s lives more miserable, which she normally wouldnt have done if it was just a simple dislike of them, but they were also harassing her. Likely by order of the person they worked for. It was nothing major or got in the way of her work. They just wouldnt serve her food when she asked like they were supposed to, and wouldnt tell her anything unless it was absolutely necessary, while also just generally being rude to her. In return for the disrespect they showed her, she repaid in equal measure by being rude and obnoxious. She would also every once in a while put a petty curse on the waitress Lise to annoy her. Scarlett wordlessly sent a little bit of aether to the floor beneath her feet. She had secretly installed something like a magic circle enchantment on the entire floor of the store. It was hidden and would be impossible to find without the assistance of a very competent mage. The circle Scarlett installed had a variety of useful functions to it. One of them was allowing someone to cast a minor spell on someone standing in the circle without their knowledge. A minor spell like a petty curse. Aether moved through the floor, following the path of an unseen magic circle from Scarlett to right under Lise''s feet. As the spell took hold of Lise, suddenly a pair of brown floppy dog ears sprouted out of Lise''s head. They looked like the ears of a bloodhound. Thom the goat mutant was the first to notice the sudden physical change. Thom: L-Lise! Ya got mutt ears! Someones cursed you again. Lise: Wha? she mumbled as reached up to feel her head. Lise immediately felt the dog ears lying on the side of her head. She grabbed one by the ears and pulled. It harmlessly popped off in her head with very little resistance. She examined the dog ear she just pulled for a few seconds before it disappeared into thin air, and a new one sprouted on top of her head. Lise: Ahhg, fucking burning abyss! she yelled, before angrily turning toward Scarlett. You fucking bitch. It was you, wasn''t it? Scarlett: Looks like someone should go back to school. Everyone knows you need physical contact of some kind to apply a curse. she said, knowing that her magic circle was one of the exceptions to that rule. Although, an idiot like you probably wouldnt benefit from school. Lise: FUUUUCK YOU! she angrily said, while flipping Scarlett off with both hands. Lise knew the weird curses being put on her lately were from Scarlett, but had no proof, as the former archmage was incredibly subtle about it. Scarlett: If you were smart enough to be a little nicer to me, I might break the curse for you. I might not be a professional cursebreaker, but any half-decent mage can dispel a petty curse. Lise: As if I would ever ask for YOUR help! she said while grinding her teeth. Scarlett just shrugged and casually walked out, leaving Lise to constantly pull out the dog ear on her head, only for them to immediately grow back. On Eld Street it was bright outside and many people were walking about on the paved street, many of them mutant with varying animistic traits to them. They were just people casually going about their day, walking around and shopping at one of the many stores offered here. There were no vehicles on this street. Almost the entire east side of Graheel was one giant pedestrian zone, except for some main roads. It was part of the city that never had its street updated to allow vehicles to drive on it, as there was never a reason to do so. People living around here couldn''t afford to buy aether powered vehicles in the past, so the city council never bothered to make roads for them. Even when money started flowing into the east, the roads were never updated to allow vehicles. As the locals actually liked the walkable streets. Scarlett walked along the road. With her illusions changing her appearance enough not to be easily recognizable. She didnt attract any more attention than anybody else around. Some people did stop walking briefly to stare at her before continuing their way, likely just someone who was attracted to her appearance. Thanks to the elixir she regularly consumes, her body was restored to her prime. And, during her prime years, she had the figure of a supermodel that still managed to come through the illusion. If a list of the top ten most attractive archmages was something that existed, she would be on that list. She ignored the odd stare she got and continued to her main destination, the mystic emporium. Scarlett needed to talk to John about the warning he gave Cid today. The recent warning he gave made her completely re-evaluate Johns power. It didnt make sense to Scarlett that he would warn Cid. She honestly thought that he had the power to control fate at first, but if he did, why give a warning. If you control fate, just change it so that whatever danger Cid was facing didnt happen. She was starting to think that maybe John couldnt control fate and that Scarlett had stretched the limits of his power beyond what it actually was. She thought that maybe there was some sort of limitation to this power. There was something about his power that made it complicated, and she knew that nothing with John was simple. Scarlett just knew John was doing something to influence fate, there were just too many strange coincidences that constantly happened around him. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever consider that John accidentally destroyed fate, and that the strangeness going on around him was due to some inconceivable eldritch entity. Eventually, she stood facing the mystic emporium, staring at it with some newfound curiosity. Rethinking her hypothesis that John has complete control over fate raised all sorts of new questions about him. And, one of those new questions she was staring at. If he doesn''t control fate, why is this store so hard for others to find? she thought to herself. There was no illusionary enchantment around the store, but people would constantly walk by this store every day and never notice it. Not even a high-level mage would notice this place. She didnt even notice this place while living on Eld Street until one day she suddenly did. There was no magic involved she could detect, yet it''s like people cant see it, but at the same time, its not invisible. She thought that if John controlled fate, then he made it so that only certain fated individuals could find this place, but it was starting to seem like that wasn''t the case. Scarlett pushed her curiosity to the side and brought her focus back to the main task, figuring out his warning. She quickly ran the scenario of conversation with John through her head, planning out what she was going to say. Once she had an idea on how to ask her question, she deactivated her illusion and pushed the door open, entering inside. Taking a few steps inside, she looked around. The layout looked the exact same as the last time she was here, albeit the contents on the shelves seemed to have moved or were different, which was normal for this strange store. She focused her sight on the back of the store where John was usually sitting, but was then surprised. He wasn''t there. Which was strange enough, but it was compounded by the fact there was someone else here. Someone shes never seen before. Sitting in a chair facing towards the table John sat at, looked like a man with brown hair that had a few streaks of white through it. He wore a blue suit jacket that looked very expensive. Scarlett was left momentarily stunned. There was a series of a bunch of unprecedented things happening all at once today for Scarlett. John giving warnings, him not being here, and a person she had never seen before inside the Mystic emporium. The man, hearing someone entering the store, stood up and turned to look at Scarlett. The man''s appearance made it hard to tell what his age was. He looked like he might be in his thirties, but she was unsure. His appearance didnt make him stand out much or invoke much of a presence. He looked very bland. Mysterious Man: Who are you? he said, with a very deadpan face. Scarlett: Who am I? Who are y she stopped mid-sentence and her eyes widened. Scarlett had used her eye ability on the mysterious man while talking, revealing his aether to her. The aether she saw was unnatural and something that shouldn''t exist in a person. Aether in a normal person gathers in one spot in the body. The person in front of her had thousands of tiny pockets of aether throughout his whole body, something that was impossible. It only meant one thing to Scarlett. This man is not human. she silently thought to herself. Not knowing if there was danger or not, she gathered her aether. Preparing to attack this person if he made any hostile action towards her. As she did so, a cold chill ran up her back and frightened her. An otherworldly feeling pressed down on her, making her feel ten times heavier. It filled her entire being with an indescribable dread. It was a hard feeling to describe. It was like a warning, a threat, a revelation, and a promise of something awful if you went against it. There was only ever one other time Scarlett felt this. That was when she was about to break out of character and just ask John directly how to reanimate the dead using fire elemental power. It stopped her dead in her tracks back then, like it was doing now. She looked at the man across from her to see that he was also wide-eyed. Scarlett just knew that he also felt it. There was now an awkward staring contest going on between the two of them. They just stared at each other in silence. No idea what they should do as they were both paralyzed by this strange pressure. The overwhelming feeling suddenly let up and the sound of the front door being open could be heard behind Scarlett. She turned to see John walking in with his dog Lunar following behind him. John: OH! Hello there. Nice to see you, Scarlett, also you too Luke, he said, surprised to see two of them at once. Chapter 50 - Uncertainty -A few moments ago before Scarlett entered the Mystic emporium- John was just casually walking through Eld Street with Lunar closely following beside him. He didnt usually go for a walk at this time. John usually likes to time his walks with the Lunar when there are fewer people around, but he needed to clear his head from the conversation he just had with Onyx. The weather was nice and thankfully not too crowded today on Eld Street. People were coming and going in and out of stores, carrying bags of goods they purchased. No one seemed to mind him any attention as he walked along. John would go for these walks through Eld Street once in a while. It was to stretch his leg and make sure that he gave Lunar some needed exercise. Eld Street was such a slum in the past and he didnt feel safe walking around back then, but now it isn''t like that anymore. It was now a lot more vibrant. The street and all the buildings around it were fixed up and modernized, while keeping the aesthetics of the buildings to something similar to that of Victorian architecture. The buildings were two to three stories high and packed tightly together with some of them being painted a bright color. There were also countless canted bay windows hanging from the sides, many of them around the ground level being used as a store display. John had never been to a Victorian city before, but he imagined it would look something similar to where he was. He continued to walk along the street until Lunar started acting out Lunar: Waah! he squeaked out while tugging on Johns pants with his mouth. John: Whoa! Whats gotten into you? confused by Lunar''s sudden behavior. The malamute was very docile and well-behaved. Always just quietly following John around and trying to get his attention constantly to be petted. He never acted out like this in public, so it was surprising. Lunar made a waving motion with his paw and tapped the ground with it. This caused Johns eyes to widen in surprise as he realized something. The motion Lunar was making meant it was time to feed him. John: Oh! Is it feeding time? Lunar: Woof. he barked in a way that seemed to confirm what John suspected. John: OK. Lets head back then, he said while walking back to his store. Lunar was a very smart dog. Able to make gestures and bark in a way that his intention could be understood. Lunar was so good at it, that sometimes John wondered if he was a little too smart. He knew that this dog wasn''t normal. John had lived in this world for twenty years with this malamute, which was strange in itself. Not too many big dog breeds make it to that age, and definitely not without some sort of health problem like Lunar, who never got sick or showed any signs of an aging dog. John thought that his pet might be experiencing something similar to him, and he noticed that he didnt seem to be aging. It was like whatever was affecting him was affecting his dog Lunar as well. At least, thats what he hoped it was. John had one other idea in his head at what could be making Lunar like this, and it made him shudder. He buried that thought and just assumed it was the former rather than the latter. While walking back to his store, he noticed that the number of people walking along the street seemed to have decreased significantly. Hmm, I would have thought it would be more busy in the afternoon. Must be a slow day. He thought to himself. What John didnt notice or see was a group of gruff mutants ushering people off the street and away from him. They were going up to people and telling them to clear out in a threatening manner, or forcing them into nearby buildings. They did all this while Johns back was turned to them, and when he turned back, they would just act like regular people walking around. There was some sort of concerted effort going on to keep people away from John. All without his knowledge. Eventually, after walking through the now nearly abandoned street, he arrived back at his store. John was preparing to pull out his key and unlock the front door, but saw two people from the display window standing inside. Noticing that, John pushed the door only to realize that it was already open. I could have sworn I locked it when I left for my walk. He thought to himself. He entered inside, causing the two people to turn and look towards him. John recognizes both of them. They were both regulars, Scarlett and Luke. John: OH! Hello there. Nice to see you Scarlett, also you too Luke, he said, surprised to see two of them at once. Scarlett: Um, nice to see you. Luke: Hi, John. Both of them were still feeling a little shell-shocked about the strange thing that just happened. But, they both had enough sense to keep acting like everything was fine and normal. John: Sorry I wasn''t here to greet you two. I was just out walking. Didnt think I actually could get inside this store without John being here. Is there no protection in this place? No, there definitely is something in this store that I can''t see. Something that John wouldnt have to worry about intruders with it here. Scarlett thought to herself as she recalled that overwhelming amount of dread she felt. Luke: Thatsalright. I wasn''t here for that long. Scarlett: Y-yeah, same. John: Thats good. Um, there is one thing I have to quickly do. I know both of you want to talk. But, do you mind waiting a few minutes? Scarlett: That''s fine. I have time. Luke just nodded. John: Thank you. Just take a seat anywhere. Ill be quick. John walked off to the kitchen with Lunar following behind, intending to feed his pet. The man named Luke slowly turned his back to Scarlett and went back to sitting in his chair. She then walked past the man and grabbed one of the chairs sitting on the side, taking a seat in front of the table John usually sat in. Scarlett positioned herself in a way to maintain more than an arm''s length in distance from Luke. While sitting there, they both stared at each other in silence, carefully examining the other. Scarlett didnt know what to make of this man. Her eye ability told her that he wasn''t human, but just looking at him normally, you wouldnt be able to tell. The more she looked at Luke, the more she wondered who he was. Luke. I feel like I have seen someone that looks like him with that name, but where? Scarlett thought to herself, as she started to believe that she may know this person from somewhere. She wasn''t allowed to ponder that thought, as a door swung open with John walking out of it. He walked over to the table everyone was at and took a seat across from both Scarlett and Luke. John: Sorry, I had to feed Lunar. Anyways, have you two introduced yourselves to each other yet? Scarlett: No. I had just walked in when you showed up. John: Oh, in that case. Ill introduce you to one another. This is Luke Vaga, he said while gesturing to the man in the fancy blue suit. Scarlett''s eyes widened as she realized who this person was. Scarlett: Luke Vaga, owner of Vaga Manufacturing. Is that really you? Luke: Seems my reputation precedes itself. John: Oh, are you famous or something, Luke: Not that famous. Just built a bit of a good reputation with some folks that like what I make. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Not famous my ass. Scarlett thought to herself. Vaga Manufacturing was the third largest maker of aether-powered bikes and cars. They broke out into the market fifteen years ago. Almost a fifth of all cars on the road today are made by them. The growth and success of this company was unprecedented. Reports even say that Vaga Manufacturing is set to become the largest car maker in five to ten years. Luke was someone who originally grew up in poverty before he found his success. It was the classic rag-to-rich story people like to tell. Said to be a genius inventor and thanks to his foresight and brilliant vehicle design, he was able to propel his company into one of the largest in the industry since its founding fifteen years ago. He was so brilliant, that it was even rumored that Luke made a deal with a demon for his success. Lukes detractors spread that rumor, not willing to believe someone was able to create such a successful company by themselves so quickly. Turns out those rumors had some truth. It wasn''t a demon, but John. If he got help from him, that would explain the insane success.'''' Scarlett silently concluded from Lukes presence here. John had no knowledge of any of this. Luke never talked about that with him and John only thought of him as a quirky inventor. John also never left the east end. So he never even had an opportunity to even see a Vaga car, since there were no cars around here. He was in a bit of a bubble. Anything outside of Eld Street and he didnt know much about it. Including everything involving Vaga Manufacturing. John: Ok, and this is he was cut off by Luke while introducing Scarlett. Luke: Alexandria Scarlett. Ive heard of you. he said, devoid of emotion. Scarlett: You have, hmm. Luke: Dont worry. I don''t believe those nasty rumors about you, he said, subtly referring to what happened in the Wildlands. Scarlett: Funny. I was thinking the same thing about you, she said, referring to rumors of demon involvement. John looked back and forth between them. He could feel the tension in the air rising. John: Um, is there something I''m missing? Did you already know each other? Luke: No. We just happen to run in similar circles and have heard of each other. Not much more to say than that. Scarlett: Yeah she said, going along with what Luke was saying. John: Oh, OKSo, um, what brought you here today? he said, not putting too much thought into what Luke said. Luke: Its purely business for me Im afraid, no time for idle chatter like we do. I came here to ask if you had any contacts who could get me some difficult-to-obtain materials. Its for a new invention Im working on. John: Oh, OK. I might be able to help you. Im pretty good at getting a hold of stuff, he said, referring to his power to manifest nearly anything. Luke: Actually, I believe Ms Scarlett might be better suited to help me. Scarlett: Excuse me? Luke: Ive seen your work before and its quite impressive. I would love it if you could help design a few parts that I''m desperately in need of. The aspects and qualities of your work would be perfect for what I''m building. he said, in an unrelaxed manner. John knew from casual conversation with Scarlett, she was apparently pretty good at enchanting. It was the other skill set she had besides archaeology. He didnt entirely know all the intricacies of enchanting, only that involved making an object do things it otherwise couldnt. He just categorized it as magic and didnt put too much stock into it. Since it was impossible for him to use the magic of this world, he never put too much effort into understanding it. John: Are you talking about that enchantment thingy? Luke: yes? I am. he said, not sure if he was supposed to say so. Scarlett: You want me to enchant something for you? Luke: Not just that. Your overall skill set as an enchantress would be helpful. John: Oh, well Scarlett is a very kind person. Im sure she wouldnt mind helping you, he said with a smile. Ah, shit. I just got roped into doing more work. she thought to herself, interpreting John''s words as an order to help Luke. In her mind, she thought that John was basically telling her in a roundabout way to help Luke with whatever he was working on. She was busy with her own stuff and didnt want to do so, but with being asked to do so by John, meant she had no choice. Scarlett: Yeah no problem. Luke: Excellent. Well, let''s go to my workshop right now and show you what I need. he said, stiffly. John: Oh? You''re leaving already, but you just got here. Luke: Unfortunately, I don''t have time today. So much to do. This was just a quick visit for me. But, I''ll be sure to chat longer the next time we talk, he said, standing up to leave, gesturing to Scarlett to follow. John: Oh, no problem. Like I said with Luke. Im very good at getting a hold of stuff. So if you need more, dont be afraid to ask. Scarlett: Thank you, Ill be sure to, she said, while still wondering how John can get ahold of Yggdrasil''s leaves so easily. But, there is one thing I wanted to ask you about Cid? John: Cid? What about him? Hes not causing you trouble or anything, is he? Scarlett: No. Nothing like that. It''s just that he told me you gave him a warning that something bad was about to happen. I just wanted to know what you meant by that. Despite Luke''s lack of changing expression, Scarlett could tell he was nervous, or at least interested in what she was saying. As his head would constantly turn back and forth between her and John. Like he was gauging the response to what she said. On the outside, John looked calm and collected, but on the inside was panicking. CRAP! I thought I was in the clear when I warned Cid and he didnt ask anything about it, but now Scarlett is asking. What the fuck do I tell her! I cant tell her about Onyx, and I''m not entirely sure what I am warning Cid about. I was just telling him to be careful. So what do I say? OK. Calm down, John. Just stall her and think of some bullshit to tell her. John thought, inwardly agitated. John: Seems like you really took him under your wing. With you coming out here to make sure hes OK. Scarlett took a moment to process that comment. Trying to interpret a deeper meaning to it. What does he mean by that? Is he trying to suggest something? Actually, maybe hes right. When did I start worrying about Cid? I could have just left Cid alone and trusted John to handle it. So why did I come here to ask John about his warning? she thought. Scarlett had been alone since the betrayal she experienced at the Wildlands. She was not willing to trust or worry about other people since then. Any tasks she took on were done by herself while maintaining a constant indifference towards almost everyone. Only ever confiding in John and no one else. So she found her actions strange upon a moment of reflection. It has only been a month since Cid became my disciple. Am I starting to care already? Scarlett thought to herself. Scarlett: I guess Its the teacher in me. John: Ah yes, you used to be a teacher. Worrying about their students and wanting them to succeed are qualities of a truly great teacher. It seems you still havent lost that. Scarlett: You''re probably right. Its been a while since I''ve worried about someone else. John: Thats a good thing. It means you''re still a compassionate person at your heart. I knew that the first time I met you all those years ago. It seems like Cids reminding you of that. he said, trying to direct the conversation into a therapy session and away from talking about the warning he got from Onyx. So he did send Cid to help me. To remind me of what I once was. She thought to herself, deeply moved. Scarlett: Yeah, and thats why I wanna make sure nothing bad happens to him. So could you tell me whats going on at the university that is so dangerous? AAGH! WHY?! What should I say? John inwardly panics, as he couldnt think of a good excuse. John: Ummm, its just something I heard through the grapevine. Scarlett: A rumor? John: Yup, he said, lying. Scarlett: Andwhat was the rumor exactly? John: That something bad is about to happen at the university. Scarlett: OK more specifically. John: Cant say more than that, I''m afraid. Not much more to the rumor. Scarlett: Huh? Cids not in danger of anything is he? she finally said, wanting to know about Cid''s safety. The whole reason she came today. John: Oh, no. He''ll be fine as long as he keeps his head down and stays out of trouble. Probably. Maybe? Actually, I don''t know. Might not be a bad idea to keep an eye out for a little while, he said, sounding unsure. Scarlett and Luke both stared intensely at John thinking the same thing. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON''T KNOW!! Scarlett screamed in her head. Scarlett had built up John as this grand being who knew just about everything. He was a source of certainty for her in an uncertain world. The lack of confidence in his answer was way more disconcerting to her than anything shed experienced in a while. Are all my theories about John completely wrong, or am I missing something? She frantically thought to herself. John noticed that Scarlett looked more apprehensive about what he just said. Feeling bad for making her worry, John tried to calm her. John: Ah, its just what I heard. Maybe it means nothing. Um, no point in worrying about it yet. Im sure if we both keep an eye out for Cid, hell be fine, he said, not realizing that the source of Scarlett''s apprehension was coming to the realization that her theories about him were wrong. John saying Maybe it means nothing didnt help calm Scarlett down. It was just more uncertainty and had the opposite effect of calming her. Any vestige of her John manipulating fate theory was now gone. Luke walked up beside Scarlett. Luke: Sorry to interrupt this conversation, but I must be going. Miss Scarlett, what would be the most appropriate time and method to contact you. So that I may show you my workshop and make proper use of your skills. Scarlett: Oh, um. We can go now. Unless there something else John wants to tell me John: No. And, I''m sorry for causing you to worry. This trouble going on at the university I heard about is supposed to be resolved soon. So if we all are just a little more vigilant for a while, I''m sure Cid will be safe. So please dont worry. Scarlett nodded. Scarlett: OK. Um, we''ll talk some other time. she said, before standing up. Scarlett and Luke both said one last goodbye and quietly left the Mystic Emporium. Intermission IV Zayne was a tall muscular canine mutant with very broad shoulders. His head was that of a Rottweiler and his whole body was covered head to toe with a short coat of black and brown fur. He wore a simple white t-shirt with a pair of suspenders that had a hole in the back to allow his tail through. He was doing his job right now, which was a lot of nothing. He was just sitting on a nearby bench on Eld Street, keeping an eye out. It was his shift to guard the street today. Zayne wouldnt say he hated the job, but it was boring for him. Nothing ever happened on this assignment. But, today was different. A unique high-pitched sound rang out that immediately got Zayne''s attention. It was a sound that only certain types of mutants could hear, specifically that of a canine mutant. The tone that could be heard signaled that the street was to be cleared out. Zayne jumped into action and walked over to a nearby non-mutant-looking couple. Zayne: Hey, you two. Get the fuck off this street!! he growled at them. Couple: Eep! was all they said as they immediately ran into another nearby street. He then looked around for anyone else to clear out. All around him were a bunch of other canine mutants doing something similar to himself. Within no time, the street was completely cleared of all people except for him and his colleagues. Looking down the street, he saw the reason for the signal. A man wearing all black with red eyes was walking towards the direction Zayne was. A large white dog was walking close beside him. It was the first time Zayne had seen this person. So thats what the guy looks like. He quietly thought to himself. Zayne had only heard about this man and it was the first time seeing him. He was the reason they were guarding the street, to keep people away from the red-eyed man with black hair who kept a white dog near him, but he didnt know exactly why they were doing this. When he asked Kyle why they were protecting this man, he was laughed at. Kyle only said that they were not keeping people away for that man''s safety, it was the opposite, they were keeping people safe from him. Confused by what Kyle meant, Zayne tried to push for more information about the red-eyed man. They told him he was better off not knowing. It all didnt really sit right with him. He was loyal and always did his job well, so why hide information from him. He still ultimately did what he was ordered, but wanted to know what the deal with this guy was. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. They didnt even bother to tell me this guys name. Zayne thought. The man kept walking forward and was only about fifteen feet away from Zane before stopping. The dog beside the red-eyed man barked and made a gesture with its paw before the man said something about feeding time and turned around and began walking back. The mysterious man was so close and Zayne''s curiosity was growing. He was told not to engage no matter what, but he wanted to know who this guy was. Zayne took two steps forward and was about to call out to the man. He was going to ask who this guy was and why he was so important to his organization. As he opened his mouth to call out, no words would come. He was paralyzed and couldnt move a muscle or make a sound. His fight or flight was active, but some sort of force was holding him in place. He only could watch as the man continued to walk off, but the dog seemed to stay behind and turn toward Zayne. Where there should have been eyes on the dog, they had transformed into open maws with rows of needle-like teeth. The entire body of the dog started to transform into an inky black liquid that expanded and reshaped itself until it towered over Zayne at thirty feet (9 meters). Its body resembled a hairless wolf with a flowing black liquid constantly dripping off it. The eldritch monstrosity opened its larger mouth to reveal a cluster of tentacles. Each tipped with another mouth with those same needle-like teeth. They wriggled with a ravenous hunger. Before he had any time to process what he was looking at, the tentacles wrapped around him and drew him into its mouth. Once inside its mouth, the monster closed its jaw and the tentacles began ripping Zayne apart. They took chunks of flesh from his shoulder and his legs. One of the tentacles ripped a hole in his abdomen and squirmed inside, beginning to eat him from the inside out. Still paralyzed, he couldnt scream. He could only watch in horror as he was eaten alive. Suddenly, like an echo in a cave, he heard a voice. ???: Yo, Zayne. Are ya there? Zayne snapped back to reality and looked around. He was surrounded by three other of his canine mutant colleagues. It felt like he was just suddenly woken up. The red-eyed man and the white dog were nowhere to be seen. Zayne then grabbed the areas on his body he remembered his flesh being ripped off and found that he was perfectly fine. There was no physical damage. The three other mutants gave him a strange look from the odd behavior. Zayne: W-what the f-fuck was that. he said, confused and scared at what just happened. Canine mutant: You tell us. You were just standing there looking off into space. Actually, are you OK? You''re not looking too well. Zayne: I-I think I''ll benope. N-not fine. Blaggggh! he said as he suddenly began to vomit. Caused by that traumatic event he experienced and couldnt explain, he puked up his lunch in the center of the street while the other mutants around him reeled back in disgust. Zayne learned Kyle was right. He really was better off not knowing. (Authors Note: At least there was no PHYSICAL damage.) Chapter 51 - “The Mechanic” Chemical K-11, also known more colloquially as krimson, is a drug that is known to cause mutation within people. The drug is a dark red color similar to blood and is injected directly into the bloodstream. The form of these mutations is entirely random and can range from extreme animalistic features, such as claws, fur, and scales, to mutations that are not obvious to onlookers, such as growing an additional kidney. While the mutations are greatly varied, the one mutation people are attracted to are the ones that allow for the manipulation of aether, developing into magical abilities. This type of mutation is uncommon, with rates of only a 10% chance of developing aether manipulation. Additional application of K-11 in people that have already used it show no additional changes or effects from the injection. People that go through the more extreme mutation, developing a lot of inhuman traits, seem to also develop extremely high disease resistance. Its theorized that because K-11 scrambles people''s genetic makeup, it results in most diseases that evolved to target humans unable to affect a mutants changed biology. This also seems to result in most mutants being completely infertile. The known method of this drug production is very limited. According to reports, K-11 is produced from a concentrated version of the chemical and is greatly diluted in water. A liter of K-11 concentrate can easily make over a thousand liters of regular K-11. The production method of the concentrate is unknown. The chemical makeup of K-11 is unstable and constantly shifting, making analysis impossible. Researchers today still do not entirely know what it''s even made of, or where its coming from. K-11 concentrate should be handled with extreme caution and treated as explosive material. K-11 concentrate will explode and ignite into intense flames when exposed directly to sunlight. Only once diluted is it no longer explosive. Krimson is prohibited in the union states and former Gix Empire, but has not stopped people from utilizing this drug for a variety of socioeconomic and political reasons. Records indicated that this drug''s usage within the Western continent dates back at least over two thousand years. There exists some minor evidence to suggest that this drug is somehow linked to the Blood Caller cult, but there is no definitive confirmation of it being so. Report on Krimson by the USHO (Union States Health Organization) Scarlett quickly activated her illusion ring as she left John''s store. The air around her shimmered slightly before her appearance suddenly changed. She then followed behind Luke. They walked a few blocks before turning into a nearby alleyway. They looked around to make sure there was no one around. It was narrow and the building was so tightly packed together that it left most of the alleyway in shadow. Overhead were a few more balconies obstructing even more sunlight from shining down. Besides where they were was a door lock behind a metal gate. The alleyway they stood in was devoid of anybody, but themselves. Once they were out of public sight, both looked up and down at each other. Luke was the first to speak. Luke: Well now that were away from Master Li, lets speak more candidly. Scarlett: Yeah she said, still processing what she heard from John. Luke: You still seemed shocked, but I get it. I have never seen him not have an answer. However, that might be expected. I heard that divination is becoming even more unreliable lately. If the seers are having a hard time of it, I can imagine its the same with Master Li. Scarlett: But I thought he controlled fate itself. Luke: What dream shrooms have you been consuming to think that? Scarlett: Cmon, dont tell me that you think all the weird stuff around John is just coincident. Luke: No. But, it doesn''t mean he controls fate. It could be that he just has a wider view of reality than people like us. Playing a grand elaborate chess game, and can see a few moves ahead. Scarlett: Sign, I hate it when someone else might be right about John. admitting that Luke may be right. Luke: Thinking about it. I get why someone like you might assume that John can control fate. Its hard to tell where his influence begins and ends. Like this meeting today. Did Master Li do something to make it so we meet each other today, or is it really just a coincidence? Scarlett: Dont tell me its by chance. How many other patrons of John have you run into? Luke: While visiting Johns place, zero. But, I still am in contact with at least two others, and now you. Which by the way I must ask, was it you who destroyed the Kang building in Port Vaal? Scarlett: Yeah, why? Actually, how do you know that? Luke: My main workshop is in Port Vaal. Scarlett: OK but that doesn''t explain how you know I was involved in that explosionunless. Oh, fuck me! You''re the Mechanic I was told about. You work for that bitch Yin. she said, as she just realized Luke''s connection to someone named Yin. When she was destroying the Kang building in Port Vaal, she was told it was to help someone called the Mechanic. Scarlett connected the dots that the name Mechanic encapsulates what Luke Vaga is, a mechanical engineer who designs aether vehicles. Combined with the knowledge that he knew that it was her who destroyed that building, she could only conclude that they were the same person, and she knew that person specifically was working under someone named Yin. Luke: Correct. I asked Yin if she could do something about the Kang group. They were hindering my company''s operation by funding a local gang to harass me, all in an attempt to make their expansion into the Aether vehicle market easier. Although, I didnt expect half a whole building to be destroyed in the process of that. I was expecting something more subtle. Like underground economic warfare. Scarlett: Well bitch to someone else about that. Yin told me to get rid of them and I did. The entire leadership of Kang''s financial holding is dead. So, you are welcome. Luke: I guess. That company is basically ruined now, and not coming back after what you did. Eh, I doubt your action could link back to me in any way. I guess I won''t worry. Scarlett: Anyways, you ask me a question, now its my turn. What are you? Luke: I''m not sure he was cut off by Scarlett. Scarlett: Dont play dumb with me. I know you''re not human. Luke just stared blankly at Scarlett, like he was processing something. Luke: Well, you were a former archmage. I shouldn''t be surprised that someone like you would notice. But, I thought I did a really good job at hiding it. Scarlett: My question still remains. What are you? Luke: Human. Scarlett: I said not to bullshit with me. Luke: No, Im very serious. I am human. However, what you are talking to is not me, but an arcane construct that Im remotely controlling. It took a second for Scarlett to realize what Luke was saying. Her eyes widened with comprehension as she began to understand. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Scarlett: A golem? Oh, I get it. All the little pockets of aether in your body are what animate all the joints. Golems were arcane machines resembling a humanoid. Animated and powered by aether to replicate human movement. They were mostly created nowadays by students to help learn arcane engineers, or as a status symbol of wealth since they are expensive to make. However, most golems didnt look as human as the one standing in front of Scarlett. Luke: Can you actually detect that? I thought the small aether crystals I used for the joints of this construct wouldn''t be detected, and would only make it seem like I had very weak aether." Scarlett: Yeah, Im sure it looks that way to most mages. Besides John, Im probably the only other person who would notice. It also explains your stiff expressions. There are not as many points of aether in your face for proper movement. Luke: Alas, creating golems that can properly express is truly the most difficult. Human facial expressions are not easily replicated. Scarlett: Im sure. But have you no decency to show up for John in person, she said, a little mad. Luke: He is an understanding and kind being. He accepts me even though I didnt come to him like many of his other patrons, and knows that I am a bit predisposed and cant physically meet with him easily. Scarlett: Also, where are you exactly controlling this golem from? Luke: If you''re looking to talk to me in person, youll have to come to Port Vaal. Scarlett: What!?! Luke: I did say my main workshop was there. Scarlett: No, not that. How are you controlling a golem from so far away? Port Vaal was on the southern part of the Golgatta peninsula. It was at least 300 miles (480 kilometers) away if one could directly fly from Graheel over Gol mountain to Port Vaal. By road, it was closer to 500 miles (800 kilometers). Scarlett thought that if Luke was remotely controlling a Golem, he would be somewhere within Graheel, she didnt expect him to be as far away as he was. Controlling a golem remotely from such a distance would be impossible even for her. Luke: Well, if you come I can show you how. Scarlett: Ugh, does that mean the workshop you wanted me to come to is also in Port Vaal? Luke: Correct. Scarlett: Thats like a seven or eight-hour drive from here if Im lucky, she said, thinking about the traffic shed have to go through. Luke: You could always just ask Yin to use the secret teleportation network she has. Scarlett: Im not asking Yin for shit! Damn it. If I knew you worked for Yin, I would have never agreed to help you. Luke: The thing Im working on is all for the cause. Ive heard that Yin and you dont particularly like each other, but do you really hate her so much that you would purposely sabotage her and the people around her. Scarlett: No, but I dont have to like it. And, I reserve my right to complain about it, even if its for the cause. Luke: Then just ask her to use the teleportation network. Scarlett: I built that fucking network myself for that bitch. I dont need permission from her to use it. Luke: You built that teleportation network? Actually, thinking about it, that makes sense. Scarlett: Archmage of enchantments, remember, she said while pointing to herself. You didnt actually think Yin could build that. Luke: Then what''s the problem? Cant you just use the network yourself if you built it? Scarlett: The problem is that the network doesn''t connect to Port Vaal. Luke: Oh. he said flatly. Scarlett: There is no teleportation circle in Port Vaal. Those circles have to be hidden and guarded. There was no one in that city to properly guard it at the time when I was building the network. Luke: I guess if you set a circle up in my workshop, I could keep it hidden and guard it. Scarlett: Great, more work. Just what I wanted, she said sarcastically. As if I don''t have enough on my plate with whats going on with Cid. Luke: Yeah, that didnt sound good. John not knowing what is going to happen is a first for me. Scarlett: Me as well. Luke: You know, this cooperation doesn''t have to be one way. I can help you with this situation with that Cid person, who I assume is also a patron? Scarlett: Yes he is. And, how would you go about helping me, if John couldnt. Luke: John didnt say he couldnt help. Only that he didnt know what was going to happen. Im sure he is doing something behind the scenes to help Cid. In the meantime, you should be taking every opportunity to ensure his safety. Scarlet let out a deep sigh. Scarlett: That''s second time you annoyed me by being right. Fine, is there anything that you can do to help? Luke: Not directly. Unfortunately, it sounds like taking any big action would draw danger to Cid. John said he needed to keep a low profile. So, I can''t just supply him with weapons or gear like I normally do. I can however offer contingencies if he needs to flee. Scarlett: What exactly are you offering? Luke: I could supply you with funds if you need it. I have a lot of money incoming from one of my less-than-legal transactions. Or, I could supply you with a device that can be used to temporarily jam communications. If he needs to flee or hide from a group of people, it should help. Lack of proper coordinates makes groups of people significantly less effective. Scarlett: Im good for cash, and we don''t know if it is a group of people were dealing with. Luke: But, its most likely if the university is involved. I could see the danger coming from the faculty itself. Especially if they know you''re involved with Cid. Scarlett recalled the ruthlessness of Lazarus. She thought she knew Lazarus well and were friends, but he turned on her so quickly. Taking the side of her treacherous students and trying to dispose of her, even when he probably knew the truth. They would definitely be after Cid once they knew he was connected to her. Scarlett: I suppose. Is there anything else you could offer? Luke: Maybe if I know more, I can probably build something to help with it. When you come to my workshop, we can talk about it more and see where I would be most helpful. Scarlett: Fine. she said, followed by a long sigh. What did you need me to make anyway. Luke: Pure flame aether crystals. Its for an invention Im building for the cause. You and John are probably the only ones that could acquire or make them for me. Scarlett: Those are difficult to make, but shouldn''t be impossible for someone as wealthy as you to acquire. Luke: It is, if I dont want people to know about it. I would have to employ at least several dozen highly skilled enchanters to make the kind of flame aether crystals I need. The more people I have working on this invention, the more likely information about what Im working on will leak. With the stuff Im working on, I prefer to work alone. And, if I have to work with someone, I would rather it be you, a fellow patron working on the same cause. Scarlett: It would have been a lot quicker and easier to ask John. It seems like he can acquire anything. Luke: I limit my visits as much as possible and try not to ask for his help. We should be trying to trouble John as little as possible. Scarlett: Why? Luke: We should be doing things by ourselves. We cant expect John to fix everything. Scarlett: A convenient excuse. I feel like you''re just scared of him. Its why you didn''t even bother to show up in person. Luke: I already told you Im preoccupied. Scarlett: Yeah, and I dont believe you, she said dismissively of Luke. Anyways, do you have quartz and enchanters carving tools at that workshop of yours, or I''m going to have to bring that with me? Luke: I have everything you will need already in my workshop. But in case I''m missing something, please look at this, he said, as he pulled out a piece of paper. It was a neatly written list of all the supplies he had at the workshop. Luke: That is everything I currently have for creating flame aether crystals. I also wrote the exact specification on how I want those crystals enchanted. Scarlett: Hmm, thats actually quite complicated, she said, as she read the details of how Luke wanted the flame crystals made. Luke: Is this beyond your ability? Scarlett: I didnt say that. If you already have all the materials on this list, it should take me about let''s say, two to three weeks to make the quantity you specified in this note. Luke''s eyes suddenly widen and bulge slightly out of his head, staring intensely at her. Scarlett thought that he was trying to express surprise, but it wasn''t working. He just looked a little unsettling and she could now see the stiffness in his face more clearly. Scarlett: Stop doing that with your golems face. It looks fake and creepy. Luke: My apologies. Im just surprised that you could do this for me in such a short time. I was expecting it to be at least three months even with your skills, he said while reverting his face back into that deadpan expression. Scarlett: Archmage of enchantments. I think you''re really underestimating that title I once had. It wasn''t for show. Luke: Clearly. Anyways, if there is nothing else you need for the aether crystals, I''ll be taking my leave, he said, preparing to walk away. Scarlett: Are you going to talk to Yin? Luke stopped dead in his tracks and turned back to Scarlett. Luke: yes. I need to report to her about our cooperation, he slightly hesitated to say. Scarlett: Dont tell her about my involvement with whatever that thing you''re working on. I can use this to one-up her later. Luke: But I have to tell her. Scarlett: You know, I have ways of making people''s lives difficult. Luke: This fighting thats going on between you and Yin is so tedious. Scarlett: And, I can make it even more tedious for you, so dont tell her. Luke: Fine I guess Ill tell her that I was able to acquire what I needed through John''s help. Im technically not lying, he said, followed by a long moment of silence. Ill see you in Port Vaal then. Luke then just quietly walked out of the and left Scarlett alone within the shade of the alleyway. She continued to stand there for a few more minutes, lost in thought. Ugh, it''s still a seven-hour drive. I guess I could ask him to help get me therenope. I would have to talk to Yin. So forget that. I guess I''m taking a bus to Port Vaal. Scarlett thought, resigning herself to the long trip to Port Vaal. Chapter 52 - Live By Your Conviction The Church of Light is the largest religious organization in the world. The religion operates in both the western and eastern continents. With the western church being more centralized in their authority, while the eastern church is decentralized with many different denominations. While there are some differences in both churches in the west and east, the core of their beliefs are mostly the same. The church of Light believes in a divine being that is simply referred to as The Light. Followers claim that it was The Light that created all of existence and pushes back The Darkness that is constantly trying to destroy our world. The Darkness this religion refers to is more commonly known as the Nameless Gods. However, the faithful of the light religion refuse to give the title of god to those mysterious entities, instead referring to them as The Darkness or The Nameless. The church of Light generally opposes the Nameless Gods and their followers and makes efforts to limit their influence on society and the world. Most priests within the Church of Light are proficient in healing and curse breaking magic. They see healing magic as sacred, since that kind of magic mainly uses the Vitos element, and Vitos is seen by the religion as an extension of the Lights power. The Religion of Light: A Basic Guide To Understanding The World Biggest Religion By Rob Tott The Cathedral of Light in Graheel was just as grand on the inside as it was on the outside. The ceiling was high and grand with an arch held up with rows of beautifully carved ivory pillars. Light shined in through the large and magnificent stained glass windows above. There were rows of hardwood benches surrounded by countless standing candelabras. In front of those benches was a large altar to the Light with a podium in front. Crowley was currently standing on that podium. Today at the Cathedral of Light, a large crowd of well over a thousand people all dressed in formal wear gathered inside. There were some sitting in one of the many rows of benches while most were standing. All listening to Crowley, intently, while he gave an impassioned sermon on acceptance. Crowley: And remember what Sherdion said, just as the Light accepts all, we too must strive to be like it. Accepting all despite their difference with love and compassion, for we are all the children of the Light. Regardless of appearance, status, job, or mutation, you are all equal in Light. So when you all leave here today, I encourage you to be kind to your neighbors, to those who may not practice, and to each other here. To do so is to bring yourself closer to Light. Crowley stopped his speech for a moment to take a sip of water, before speaking again. What Im trying to get at and hope you all understand, is that we need more kindness. In a world that is full of so much hate today, the compassion and love of Light and its children is most needed. Corta 11:34By grace of my warmth, I give you my love unconditionally. For you are my son, my daughter, my child, and I will be by your side even in darkness. And so let it be. Lishla. Crowd: Lishla, they all repeated in unison. Crowley looked over from his podium at his congregation. There was every person from every walk of life. All gathered here in this place listening to his words. It didnt matter if they were rich or poor. Even mutants, who would not have been allowed in here many years ago, were here sitting beside their fellow church-goers. The sight filled him with a sense of hope. That the Cathedral of Light could truly be a sanctuary for everyone. Seeing so many different kinds of people together showed him that any difference they had between each other was meaningless. Everyone is equal in the light. This is what Crowley truly believed. So it hurt to know that Archbishop Beck and a lot of other ministers were trying to ruin all this. Crowley: Now I know this has gone on a little longer than I normally do, but I still have one more thing to announce. But before that, let us break for now. Sister Dian and a bunch of volunteers made some special treats today for everyone to enjoy. We dont want what they prepared to get cold, and Im sure everyone would like to stretch their legs. So please, everyone help yourselves. Chatter started to fill the halls as people started getting up and out the church benches. The nuns and monks started ushering people into another room off to the side. Most of the attendees opted to leave early for various reasons, while the others followed the direction of the nuns. Over the course of some time, the space was almost completely cleared out. Crowley stayed behind, intending to be the last to leave. He watched as people slowly dispersed. The last to leave was a couple with their son, who Crowley knew well. It was the Marigold family with their adopted eight year old son, Tomus Marigold, who was a cute little fox mutant that looked like a ball of fluff covered head to toe in reddish-orange fur, while wearing dress clothes for a child. The Marigold had taken the poor little boy from a very bad situation and raised him as their own. Crowley remembered fondly doing a special ceremony the church does for adoption children. It was the kind ceremony where the parents promise before the light to take another child as their own and take care of them. Tomus cried back then and said how happy he was to finally be Ms and Mr Marigold''s son. It was such a joyous moment for that family, and Crowley was proud to be part of it. Tomus'' fluffy pointed fox ears perked up and looked toward Crowley giving him a big vulpine smile, before being pulled along by his parents into the next room. It was an innocent gesture, but it pierced Crowleys heart and caused him turmoil. What should I say? If Archbishop Beck becomes the Speaker of Light, do I have to tell the Marigold''s that their son is not welcome here anymore? I-I cant do that. He quietly thought to himself with a deep sense of sadness. Archbishop Beck promised that he would restore some of the old church policy on mutants to appease the exterminationist faction of the church. He didnt specify which policies he would be changing, leaving Crowley only to speculate some of the worst possibilities, such as restoring the old policy of not allowing mutants to even enter the premises of a church. He stared down intensely at the lectern in front of him with fist clutch, fighting the emotions inside of him. Debating the best course of action he needs to take. A familiar voice called out to him, and brought back to attention. Dian: Father, everyone is in the kitchen area enjoying the tea and baked goods our volunteers made, the older nun said. Crowley: Oh, um good. Ill join in a minute. The older nun could tell something was off, but didnt say anything. She just slightly bowed and walked off to the area everyone was at. Crowley followed behind her. They entered into a large communal dining area with rows of tables and chairs, with a sizable kitchen off to the side for preparing food. The design of the room was more modern and less grand than the main Cathedral area. It was added on much later to the main building. Meant to help with the church''s regular activity of feeding the needy, allowing the poor a warm and safe place to eat. Laid out on some tables was an assortment of baked goods; on another table was large insulated metal urns with a small valve at the bottom to allow for the pouring of tea. Adults were enjoying the tea while the children here helped themselves to the baked goods. Everyone was chatting and the mood seemed positive. A loud laugh from a woman rang out from a group of adults conversing with each other off to the side, while little children were running through the crowd playing tag. As Crowley was standing there looking around, a mutant girl and non-mutant man came up to him. It was Cindy and her fianc Rob. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Cindy was a mutant woman with the only notable mutation of deer horns on her head. Rob was a normal looking young man with an innocent looking boyish face. He looked a lot younger than he really was, despite him being a full grown adult. Cindy: Um, father. Could we talk to you for a brief moment. Crowley looked around to see everyone else conversing with someone else. He was not in a hurry to make his announcement, so decided to talk to the young engaged couple. Crowley: Oh course. Rob: Thank you. We were just wondering if you umum he said, having a hard time forming the words. Cindy: We wanted to know if you would officiate our wedding. she said, cutting into Robs questions. Rob: Yeah, he said nodding in agreement with his finance. Crowley: Oh, I already thought there was another priest who was going to do that. Cindy: Father Qor was going to do it for us. But, something came up and we had to change the date of our wedding. We are going to tell father Qor about that today, but decided to ask if you would perform the ceremony instead. Crowley: I''m sure father Qor would be disappointed that you dont want him to be the one officiating your wedding. Rob: Oh, nothing against father Qor. Hes a wonderful person. It''s just that weve both known you longer than father Qor, and you''re practically like family to the both of us. So we felt that it would be extra special if you were the one to do it. Crowley has been serving as priest here in Graheel for over twenty four years now, since he was thirty when he was relocated here. He had built up quite the connection with many members of his congregation and was close to many of them. They always came to him with their woes and needs of spiritual guidance, always trying to do the best he could for them. Crowley wasn''t surprised by the request. He suspected it was Cindys idea. She had lost her father at a young age. Accidentally causing Crowley to fill the role of a father figure she was lacking in her life. And in some ways, Crowley kinda felt that Cindy was like a daughter to him. Wanting him to have to have some part of their wedding was expected. In truth, he had no problem officiating the wedding. In fact, under normal circumstances he would have loved to do this for both Cindy and Rob, but he worried that the things happening in the church would get in the way. Marriage between a non-mutant and mutant used to be forbidden by the church, and he didnt know if it would go back to that way soon. Then there was also another important fact getting in the way, something that he was about to announce today to the people still here. Crowley: I want to tell you both that I would do this for you, but I have some issues I need to take care of at the moment. Cindy: Oh, are you still busy? I thought that you might be more available now, she said, sounding disappointed. The disappointed in Cidy voice added to the constant feeling of anguish Crowley was almost constantly feeling. He felt like he was betraying this couple in a way by rejecting officiating the wedding himself. Not wanting to leave it like this, Crowley decided to delay his answer for now, at least until he made his big announcement. Crowley: Um, you know what, come talk to me later. Maybe we can work something out. Rob: Thank you father. Well be sure to, he said excitedly. Crowley: Dont thank me yet, he said with a smile. Cindy: Come, Rob. Lets not bother the father anymore than we have, I''m sure theres other people that want to talk to him. Well come talk to you in a few hours, is that OK? Crowley: Thats fine. Cindy: Ok. See you then, she said with a smile. The couple walked off, leaving Crowley alone by himself. The old priest looked out into the room to see all the people gathered here, idly chattering with one another. The number of people here was less than hundred, with the vast majority of the other congregation leaving after his sermon, and expecting to hear his announcement from the other churchgoers later. It all gave him a sense of melancholy. Crowley was there to share in many of these peoples moments of happiness and sorrow. Almost everyone here was someone that he felt like he had a positive impact in their lives, but it was more than that. They affected him as well.They taught him how to be a better person during his time as their ministers, and he was forever grateful for that. I''m going to miss this. Crowley sadly thought to himself. He swallowed up the sadness he could feel forming, then called out to everyone here to make his announcement. Crowley: Can everyone be quiet for a moment? I have a big announcement to make, he called out to everyone. As he yelled that out, everyone stopped their chatter and turned toward Crowley. The old priest took a deep breath to help calm his nervousness. Crowley: I just want to thank everyone one last time for coming today. And um, the big announcement is that Im retiring, he said, followed by a deathly silence. No one said a thing. Some of the people present had their mouths agape in surprise about the sudden announcement. The only sound that could be heard was some of the children still running around playing, but even they stopped playing to see why all the adults were so quiet. The causal feeling in the air took a turn and many that were present here started to look anxious at the sudden news. The nuns and the monks here looked absolutely shocked at the announcement, clearly not having been informed beforehand about this. Priests of light dont retire, not without a very good reason, such as declining physical or mental health. Most priests of light end up dying while serving their respective communities, just like the former Light Speaker. So it came as a shock for most people here that understood the severity of Crowley announcing retirement. One of the Churchgoer present spoke up and broke the painful silence that was hanging in the air. Churchgoer: Father Crowley, are you ill? he said, worried for the old priest''s health. Crowley: Oh, no. Its justum. he paused, struggling to come up with an excuse for his sudden retirement. He looked out at the crowd of people with a sense of guilt. He could see some of the worries that were on some people. They deserve an honest answer. Crowley silently concluded to himself. Crowley: The truth is that I''m being forced to go against my morals, by Archbishop Beck and others from the clergy that support him. he said, fully planning on publicly implicating Beck for the reason he was leaving the church. Another of the Nun, who was shocked that was present, spoke up. Nun: What do you mean? Crowley: Archbishop Beck and his supporters want us to start excluding mutants from our congregation, and threaten me to do so, or I''d be forced out of the church. And, I''m sure you all know how I feel about the idea of forcing our mutant brothers and sisters out of our congregation. So that is why I''m retiring. Father Qor will take my place as head priest here. Hes in agreement with me about opposing the exclusion of some of our members, and will not turn away or discriminate against anyone. Cindy: Why do you have to leave because of that! the mutant woman with deer horns shouted. Rob: Yeah, Cindy''s right. You shouldn''t have to leave, the mutant girl''s fianc said. Churchgoer: It shouldnt be up to them to decide this, another yelled angrily. Crowley: Please calm down everyone. You would think Im dying with the way some of you are acting, he said with a smile with some traces of somberness.The reason I''m leaving like this is to protect our mutant members. Its hard to explain how, but me leaving like this will help with the situation. Dont worry. Father Qor will take care of everything. And maybe if were lucky, I might be able to return after the Speaker of Light is chosen, he said, trying to give his congregation hope. Crowley knew it would be unlikely he would be coming back after this announcement. Beck was the most likely candidate to be the Speaker of Light, and once he was elevated to that position, Crowley knew he would never be let back into the fold. Especially, after he implicated Beck as the reason for him leaving. It was all part of Crowleys plan. He knew that leaving like this would cause chaos and discord in the leadership of the church, especially for Beck. After all, the former Hand of Light being forced out of the church, because an Archbishop tried to make him go against his morals would be scandalous. Crowley was praying that in that chaos, the archbishop would be forced to roll back on some of his promise to undo some of the church laws on mutants. All to stabilize his position as the next Speaker of Light and avoid the accusations Crowley was making. While he hated playing politics, Crowley still knew how to play the game well. He wont be a priest of light anymore, but this sacrifice would keep the mutants in his and others congregations across the western continent safe for a little while. Crowley: Anyways, Im sure many of you have questions. But, I wont be answering them here. As always, I have an open door policy. So feel free to come by my office later in a couple hours if anyone here needs to talk to me about this. And please, continue to enjoy the pastries that sister Dian and the volunteers brought. No one here looked happy at what Crowley just said. There was a lot of apprehension hanging in the air now, but there was nothing that could be done about it. He then turned to the nun Dian, who looked as shocked as everyone else. Crowley: "Sister Dian, I will be in my office for the next two hours sending out documents. If anyone comes to see me, let them know I will still talk to them after Im done." Dian: OhUm, OK she said unsure, thinking he was about to do a bunch of paperwork involved in his retirement. The old priest nodded and left the communal dining area. Crowley was heading off to his office to send out the unsent speaker decrees. If Im leaving anyways, no point in holding onto all those speaker decrees. Might as well send them all out and let Archbishop Beck be the one to deal with it. Crowley thought, hoping to cause as much chaos as he could for Beck, as part of his plan. Little did Crowley know, this decision to send out those speaker decrees would change everything. Chapter 53 - Regret And A Bad Idea Joe was by himself walking along the street headed towards a specific destination. He had an informant who knew something about Mark and his family. Joe was told to meet them in the alleyway by the restaurant The Southern Bites. It was the middle of the day and there was no one around as he was walking. He eventually arrived at the restaurant with the smell of food hanging in the air. It was remodeled recently and had an appearance that looked both modern and old; a nicer restaurant that was likely not cheap on the pocketbook. Joe walked by it until was standing by the alleyway he was to meet. He couldnt see very well into it. It was strangely very dark compared to the rest area around it. Joe started to reminisce as he stood there. Of all the places, why did we have to meet here? He thought. This was the place where Joe did that drug bust all those years ago. It was the alleyway where he had accidentally killed someone. He had no idea why he agreed to meet here and didnt try to push to meet somewhere else. Taking a deep breath, he walked into the alleyway and was swallowed by the darkness. He kept walking forward as his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness around him. Eventually, he saw two figures in trenchcoats standing just standing there with their back turned to Joe. Joe: Hey, you two! Are you the informants I was supposed to meet? he called out to them. They didnt respond and just stood there. Joe: Hey, did you hear me! he called out to them again while approaching them. Both the men in trenchcoats turned to face Joe once he got closer. What Joe saw both shocked and terrified him. Facing him were humans that had their faces and heads smashed in with a gaping wound and a deadly amount of blood constantly dripping from them. They had a pale and sickly complexion. Joe: W-what the fuck! Undead!?! Wait he said as he realized something. The clothing they wore was familiar to Joe. It was a standard trench coat that he made everyone in his unit wear rather than their regular police uniform. He could also still see their hair coloration of red and brown which reminded him of people he once knew. He had seen these two before, even in this state. They were both his friends that Rob had killed by crushing their skulls and dumping their bodies in garbage cans. Joe: Jeff? Blake? he said, confused and horrified. Jeff?: Why? Joe why? Why did you let Rob kill us? he said, with blood dripping down from his ruined face. Blake?: Joe, I had a wife and kid. Why did you let us die? Joe: N-No. I, I-I, he stuttered, unable to answer the ghost of his friends. He turned to prepare to run, but was blocked by another ghost of the past. Standing in front of him was a skinny man standing at the same height as Joe. He had short blond hair and green eyes. The man had a scared look on his face and wore filthy clothing with a few holes in his jeans. It was the man that Joe had accidentally killed in this very alleyway years ago. Joe: Jin? Jin?: Joe, why? I wasn''t gonna hurt anyone. I just needed the money. I-I needed it for he was interrupted by the sound of a loud bang. Jins forehead exploded and blood shot out, getting all over Joe. He then collapsed onto the floor while continuing to stare up at Joe with the same scared expression. Blood, now flowing both out of the front and back of Jins head from a bullet wound. Joe could only gasp, as he looked up and saw a man standing in front of him holding a gun with smoke still coming out of the muzzle. It was like looking into a mirror, for the person Joe saw was himself. It was a distorted version of Joe with an angry and twisted scowl on his face. Distorted Joe: You killed them all. Its all your fault. Joe: No. I-I didnt Distorted Joe: Murderer! Murderer! MURDERER! YOU''RE A MURDERER. the distorted version of Joe yelled out. Joe: No, no, noooooo! he cried out. ?????????????????? Joe immediately woke up and sat straight up at his desk. Joe: GHAAA! he yelled. While sitting up he also swung his hands around erratically, knocking over a stack of paper that was by his desk. Papers spilled out everywhere and made a complete mess. The awoken officer spun his head around to see that he was in the police headquarters sitting at his desk. Joe: Ohh, just a dream. Just a dream. he said while breathing heavily, taking a moment to try and calm himself down. Mike: Had a fun nightmare? he said sarcastically. Joe turned to his side to see Mike standing beside him holding another stack of paper. Mike had a tired look on him. Joe: When is a nightmare ever fun? Mike: Well, thats what you get for staying up all night going through records and sleeping at your desk. Was it even worth it by the way? Did you find what you''re looking for? Joe just groaned. He had spent the entire night going through documents related to the house Mark was living in and didnt get the results he wanted. Joe: No. Mark and his mother seemed to rent, and the guy they were renting from passed away years ago with no family. So I got nothing. Still dont even know what Marks fucking surname is. If I knew that, I might be able to get more info on this kid. Mike: Cant help you there. Even the old lady who knew Mark we talked with didnt know his last name for some reason. Did you try asking Jack? Joe: He threw a lead pipe at me and said he didnt know. Guess people in The Skullcrusher only ever referred to each other on a first-name basis. Mike: And that knife we got? Joe: I left it with Steve from forensics to analysis, but I guess hes backlogged with other units'' requests, and wont be able to examine it for a while. Mike: So we spent all this time and effort and we got nothing. Joe: yup he said, while looking annoyed. Mike just let out a deep sigh. Mike: OK. Now that we got that out of the way, here''s some forms for you to fill, he said as he dropped a large stack of papers onto Joes desk. Joe: Whats this for? I thought that we were finally getting the paperwork situation under control? This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Mike: Me and Dan did get the paper situation under control, with the exception of those forms that you scattered all over the place that you were meant to sign, he said referring to the papers Joe had just knocked over when he woke up. Joe: Oh, OK. Ill get that done today. So what are these forms for? Mike: These are the forms you need to fill out to put in a request at the university for assistance. I know that was going to be your next place to look for information. Since you''re still in need of an expert who knows about curses and we cant ask the witch hunters at this time. So I got a head start on that process of asking the university. Joe: OK, nodding his head in approval. That''s good. And, it seems the paperwork is not as bad as I was expecting, he said, feeling hopeful. Joe was delaying asking the university for help because he thought the paperwork it would add would be massive. He was sure there would be a lot of forms for him to fill out, but the stack of papers that Mike put on his desk was not as bad as he thought. He was sure he could get this done in a day. Mike just angrily glared at Joe. Joe: What? he said, confused by Mike''s expression. Mike didnt say anything, he just pointed off to the side. Joe turned his head to see what Mike was pointing at. An entire corner of the office was completely consumed by paper. There was a stack of papers as tall as people all over the ground and desks. The wall was completely covered with more paper stuck to it. There was actually so much paper it was starting to block out the natural light from nearby windows. Joe: Oh, Light. Please tell me thats not what I think it is. Mike: Its worse than what you think it is. We were supposed to fill out yearly forms for the university to make requests, but decided not to bother. As we intended never to try and ask for their help ever again. But now that we''re asking for their help, we have to go back and fill out those forms we didnt do. We have fifteen years worth of forms to fill out now. And Joe, the forms in that corner there are only five years worth of backlog paperwork! We still have ten more years worth of forms to fill after this! Joe: Aggggguuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, he moaned with dread. Whats even the point of this paperwork? Why do they need this? Joe couldn''t believe it. He knew the people at the university loved their forms, but this was on a whole new level. Mike: Oh, and Murdock is getting pretty pissy with you for not taking any assignments. So, hes probably going to shove one onto us soon. Likely wont be able to fill out all these university forms before that happens. Joe: Uggghhh he groaned again. Another thing to add to his stress. OK where is Dan by the way? Mike turned the wall of paper and called out the newest member of their unit. Mike: Hey Dan! Are you still in there! he yelled out. The stacks of paper in the corner that formed a wall shook a little bit, and a muffled voice could be heard. It was so low that Joe couldnt make out what was being said. You gotta be kidding me. Is there really so much paper between us that Dan''s voice cant reach? He thought in disbelief. The towers of forms shook again and a small hole opened up in the fortress of paper. Like a caveman leaving his cave for the first time, Dan crawled out of the mountain of paper on his hands and knees, eyes wide with a look of someone that saw some crazy shit. Dan: Somuchpaper did they kill an entire forest? he said, looking shell-shocked. Mike: Did you find form T-74V like I asked? Dan looked up at Mike before getting back onto his feet and handing a piece of paper to Mike. Mike took the paper and gave it a quick read over, before deeply sighing. Mike: Dan, this is form T-73V, not T-74V. Dan looked devastated at hearing what Mike just said. Dan: Please dont send me back. I was in there for like two hours already. he said, pleadingly. Mike: No choice then. Joe, you''re up. I need you to find that form. Joe: What? How am I supposed to find anything in that sea of paper you got going on there? Mike: Despite how it looks, its alphabetized. So make sure you dont mix anything up, or its going to take even longer. Me and Dan are gonna go get a bite to eat. Joe: Youre just leaving me here. Pushing all this onto me. With dark bags under Mike''s eyes, he glared even more intensely at Joe. Clearly fuming mad now. Mike: Thats rich coming from you. Our last backlog of paperwork was because you kept pushing it onto me! And, no. Im not casually pushing this onto you, like some unappreciative asshole I know would. he said, clearly referring to Joe. Its just that me and Dan are tired. We''ve been working on this for six hours already and barely have anything to show for it, all while you were sleeping. So, the least YOU could do is help with this paper mess we have going on! he growled out in frustration. Every word Mike said stung Joe. There was no rebuking anything his partner said, and felt even more dangerous to do so at this moment. Mike was looking stressed and ready to snap. Joe turned his head to the mass of paper and then back to Mike. He did this a few more times while thinking about what to say. Making sure to choose his words carefully. Joe: This there must be a better way. Mike: I knew you would try to weasel out of this! he growled through his teeth while his face started to turn red in anger. Joe: N-no, Im not trying to weasel out of this. Im just thinking that this might be pointless. Even if we get all this done, the university might still not help us out. Dan: Um, I never bother to ask, but what is stopping us from just going to university and talking to those experts on curses directly. It''s not like you need them to do anything specific for us. We just need some information on curses. Mike: "Agh, its all politics. They dont like the idea of police being anywhere on university grounds. They are worried that our presence would ruin the prestige and reputation of their honorable institution, their words, not mine." Joe: Lot of good that did for their reputation. I heard last week it was discovered that a professor at the university was a necromancer. If they''re so sensitive about their reputation, they should be more worried about what their staff are getting up to. Mike: I didnt hear about that. Joe: Yeah, it was just announced yesterday. The university still is not letting anyone from the force onto the campus even now. They''re trying to handle this internally before passing it off to us. But, I heard the feds are getting involved now, and they cant say no to those guys. Mike: Huh. That is fascinating. Welp, good luck with searching for that form, he said as he turned and prepared to leave. Joe: Waaaait. I have one last idea before we try the university route. Mike let out a long sigh. Mike: What now? Who are you going to try and piss off for information? Joe: No one, hopefully. Dan: Did you find someone who knows about curses or Mark? Joe: Nope, but I know someone who might know someone else who does. Mike: Who are you talking about, Joe? Joe: Lets just say, were going to teach Dan what speak a secret and the hounds will hear it means. Mike''s eyes widened and gave a very stern look of disapproval at what Joe was suggesting. Mike: No FUCKING WAY! We are not doing that! Dan: What? What are we not doing? he said, confused about what was going on. Joe: Dont worry Mikey. Itll be fine. Mike: No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. There is no way in a thousand years that we are ?????????????????? It was the evening in Greheel. Just outside the Red-light district, in a grimy and filthy alleyway, gathered there were three men all wearing matching trench coats. Despite their appearance, they would fit in with most of the local populace with their attire. Mike: Joe, this is the most fucking stupidest idea you ever had whole goddam life! Us cops asking the Nighthounds for anything is fucking suicide. Joe: Its going to be suicide if you dont shut the fuck up. Dont mention anything about the police here. If anyone asks, were just here to show Dan, a new arrival in town, a good time. Got it? Dan: I-I dont know Joe. Mike is right. I know the Nighthounds are supposed to have this crazy information-gathering network, but this sounds really dangerous. Some of the others at headquarters have told me some pretty scary stories about these guys. Mike: And they probably didnt tell you about some of the worst ones involving this gang. he said, directed at Dan before turning back to Joe. Comon Joe. This isn''t just anywhere in the east end. This is the Red-light district, the heart of the Nighthounds territory and their base of operation. The people here are not just working for them, most of them are Nighthound members. Joe: Calm down. We just go in, get our information and leave. Thats it. I even know someone inside the Nighthounds who can help us get the information were looking for. Mike: Yeah, and that guy you''re talking about hates you. He might even hate you more than Jack, and Jack tries to beat the crap out of you. Joe: Look, I know what Im doing. If youre so worried, you and Dan can stay behind. Ill go by myself. Mike: Thats an even worse idea. Joe: Then stop complaining and stick close to me, he said as he began to walk out of the alleyway and towards the Red-light district. Both Dan and Mike looked at each other unsure, before they quickly followed behind Joe. Intermission V Somewhere on the eastern continent, in a cave, a man holding a book was standing at the edge of a circle with ancient runes carved around it. The man was named Wen, a disgraced soldier from the Dragon Empire. Accused by his superiors for a crime, he was cast out from the army and sentenced to death. He managed to escape and fled the capital city, hiding himself in the wilds. For over a year now he had lived in this cave, plotting his eventual revenge. When he found this place, a bunch of supplies were abandoned in it. The kind of supplies stored here suggested to Wen that this was once a safe house for a cult. He wasn''t sure which cult it belonged to, but he could recognize the various types of objects and contraband stored there. Wens time as a soldier taught him about the kinds of goods cults like to smuggle and what he needed to watch out for, it was all the same goods that were currently stored in this cave. Wen already felt lucky to find an abandoned safehouse to hide in, but he felt extra fortunate for what he found in it. It was something he didnt think he would find in a million years. He had found a book of Demon Summoning. All knowledge of such rituals was thought lost, but in his hands contained the knowledge of how to summon a powerful demon, and how to bind it to himself. All he needed to do was make a deal with the entity mentioned in the book, and he would gain power. The power he planned to use against those who wronged him. Wen began chanting an incantation. Wen: Noga bah, vorta. Xizixyla, hear my call! he yelled out. He had completed the ritual, yet nothing happened. Wen: Damn it! What am I doing wrong!? he yelled out in frustration. This wasn''t the first time he performed this ritual. Wen had performed the ritual four times now and nothing happened. He did exactly everything the book said to do, so he didnt understand why it wasn''t working. Wen: I dont care if I have to do this a thousand times. Ill keep doing it until I summon you! he yelled, while throwing the book of demon summoning in frustration. As if responding to the book being thrown on the ground, the ritual circle started to glow an emerald light. Wens eyes lit up in excitement at seeing this. Suddenly, out of thin air in the center of the ritual circle, a floating emerald ball of fire the size of a watermelon appeared. It had an otherworld glow to it and pulsed as an inhuman voice spoke through it. Demon: Pathetic mortal! Why do you call me! the entity said, as the flames flickered. Wen was surprised, confused, and excited. The ritual finally worked, but something was off about it. He had performed a demon summoning ritual, yet what he saw looked more like a demon communion ritual the book mentions, a ritual only meant to talk to the demon. Wen wanted to bring the demon''s physical form into this reality, so that he could sign a blood pact. Wen: Lord Xizixyla! he shouted out the demon''s name. I called you to make a contract. But, this foolish summoner is still inexperienced and knows not how to summon you into this world proper. Please impart to me the knowledge to summon you, so that we may make a blood pact. Xizixyla: You FOOL! it yelled, as the ball of fire started burning more intensely. You have performed the summoning ritual perfectly. I merely do not wish to descend upon your land. Wen: You dont wish to descend? What does that mean? Xizixyla: It means I will not allow myself to be summoned, you IDIOT! Wen: Huh? But why? Xizixyla: There is something in your eastern continent that prevents me from walking upon your land. Until that thing is resolved, I will not manifest myself in your eastern lands. Wen: What is preventing you from manifesting? Tell me lord Xizixyla, maybe I can resolve it. Xizixyla: HA! Truly a fool, but fine. Find the man named after what is black and has crimson eyes who walks with a skull. Remove him, and I will sign whatever blood pact you want, assuming you dont die. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Does the demon want me to kill a person, but who is it hes describing? Wen thought to himself. Wen: Um, of course. I will find this person and kill him for you, he said, sounding unsure. Xizixyla: Good. Until that man is removed, dont attempt to summon me again, or youll regret it. Wen: U-understood. he said, unnerved by the demon''s threat. After that was said, everything went quiet. A minute went by and the emerald ball of fire continued to just float in the center of the summoning circle. Wen: ... Xizixyla: ... Wen: Um, are you going to go now? Xizixyla: SILENCE! Why cant I break the connection? Its like! the ball of fire suddenly started pulsing even more erratically. OH NO!!!!! IT''S FOUND MEEEE!!! BUT HOW?! I DIDN''T SPEAK ITS NAME!!! the inhuman creature screamed in horror. Suddenly the cave chamber got unnaturally dark. Black inky tendrils squirmed out from the darkness beyond where Wen and the demon could see. The tendrils slowly reached up to the emerald ball of fire and wrapped around it. Wen watched as the tendrils ripped the emerald flame apart. These eldritch appendages were literally ripping fire like paper, something Wen would have thought impossible if he wasnt watching it do such. An impossible high-pitched squeal was heard as it happened. Bit by bit, the tendrils pulled away pieces of Xizixyla essence until nothing remained. Once the demon''s wisp was gone, the tendril quickly retreated back into the darkness. Wen was now alone in the cave. Wen: Whatthefuck was that? ???: That was me. Wen immediately turned to see who said that. Right behind Wen, like he was always there, was an elderly man dressed in an elegant black suit, the clothing of the western continent. He had long gray hair tied into a ponytail with piercing red eyes. In his hand was a cane with a metallic-looking skull for the pommel. Wen: W-who are y-you? he said, startled. Onyx: This one is known as Onyx. Wen: Onyx? Wen immediately clued in who this was. The man named after what is black and has crimson eyes walks with a skull, the skull likely being this man''s cane. This was the person Xizixyla told him about. Wen: W-what happened to Xi? he stopped mid-sentence, having a hard time saying the demon''s name. For some reason that Wen didnt understand, he was having a hard time recalling the name of the demon he was just attempting to summon. Like there was a gap in his memory when it came to that creature''s name. Onyx: Oh, dont worry about that thing. It wont be talking to you or anything else ever again. But, thats not whats important. Dont you want something? Like that revenge you keep dreaming about? Wen: Wha? he said, confused at what he was being told. Onyx: I must know. Is it revenge against the woman you assaulted, or her child you nearly murdered in a fit of rage, or maybe your former general who found out what you did and tried to execute you for your crimes? Wen swallowed and answered Onyxs question without thinking. Wen: All of them. I want that bitch to suffer along with her bastard son and general Lao. I want the power to make them suffer. Onyx: OK. Wen suddenly felt a strange sensation well up in his gut. He felt revitalized and stronger than ever. The aether in his body also felt more vibrant and alive. However, that feeling kept getting stronger. The strength he felt gave way to pain. Wen: AGGGHH, IT HURTS!! he yelled, grabbing his stomach. Wen fell backward, landing on his back. He rolled around trying to position himself in a way to make the pain in his stomach hurt less, but he found no relief. His stomach started to bulge out and grow in size, causing him to look like he was 40 weeks pregnant. The rest of his body started to balloon out as well, with skin and fat sagging off the side of his body. His face also started to bloat outward, making him unrecognizable and looking less human. Wen: Stooop! he begged, in a voice that was several octaves lower than it just was a minute ago. Onyx didnt say or do anything in response to Wen pleas. The old man just continued to watch with an unchanging expression. His stomach continued to expand bigger and bigger, until it nearly consumed his entire body. Wens arms and legs were pulled into the growing mass in his stomach, then his head was pulled into it as well, reducing him to a giant ball of pulsating flesh and skin. The ball of flesh, that was once Wen, continued to expand until it suddenly, and violently, exploded. Pieces of flesh and blood, shot outward in all directions, covering every bit of the area around the summoning circle with gore. The remains of Wen that shot outwards towards Onyx seemed to make contact with an unseeable force, and in defiance of physics, bent around him and continued past. Almost everything in the chamber was now covered in bits of Wen, except for where Onyx was standing. Onyx: Ugh. Gave him less than a drop of power and he exploded. If he couldn''t handle the power, why ask for it? Why not ask for revenge itself, rather than the power to enact revenge. Sigh, I guess you cant give out salvation without proper guidance. Ill have to ask for some advice from John the next time I meet him, so I can get better at this. Chapter 54 - Divination Countless neon signs above illuminated the streets below along with rows of street lights. The signs were advertising countless brothels with promises of a unique experience of an erotic nature, tempting passersby with provocative imagery and sexual innuendos with the establishments'' names. Which was still tame in comparison to what was going on in the display windows of various establishments. Standing in storefront window displays behind glass were scantily clad prostitutes. Both of the mutant and non-mutant varieties, but the majority seemingly mutant. The clothing these people wore barely covered anything, only taking one wrong movement for it to slip off and reveal private parts. Every body type and gender was on full display. Their tantalizing appearance catering to those of nearly every sexual proclivity. However, there was more to the Red-light district than just brothels. Across from them were casinos. The loud sound of slots spinning and blaring horns blared out whenever someone hit a jackpot, along with bright flashing lights. And, further down was a series of bars and restaurants that served alcohol and a variety of other mind-altering substances, with a giant tower with pink neon light off in the distance. Almost every vice was on full display here, and large crowds of people were all here to take part in those vices. Constantly entering and leaving establishments, or just casually walking around. Standing in the middle of the streets were Joe and his team. They were looking around. Dan was wide-eyed as he looked on, with an almost childlike fascination. Joe: Your country roots are showing, he said toward Dan, noticing the recruits'' look of awe. Dan: Sorry, it''s just that Ive never seen anything like this back home. And, I''m just surprised by all this. I didnt think there would be casinos here either." Joe: Yeah, I''d be surprised if they had something like this from where you''re from. Everyone calls it the Red-light district, but they pretty much bundled up every illicit activity you could imagine and set up shops here for it. Dan: It''s not just that. I know that there is no one to enforce anything, but I am still surprised by the blatant disregard for all the laws. Joe: Laws like what? Dan: Isn''t prostitution and gambling illegal in Golgotta? Joe: Good thing that''s not what''s going on here. Dan: Are you kidding me? I can literally see a slot machine through the front window of that casino over there. Joe: A thing you need to understand about this place is that everything here operates under technicalities. Even if cops came around here, they couldnt do anything about this. Everything here is technically legal. Dan: How does that work? Mike: Let me explain. Those casino you see over there. You have to exchange money for tokens to play at the various games and tables, but you cant exchange the tokens back for cash. Because of that, its not considered gambling under the law. Dan: Ohh. So, people are just playing for fun and no cash I guess. Thats kinda weird. Mike: Not quite. You see those stalls over there that sell smokes, he said while pointing to one of the nearby stalls. Dan turned and saw a small square booth near one of the casinos that looked like it sold scratch tickets and cigarettes. Sitting in the booth was some sort of shark mutant with a white shirt and suspenders who looked bored. Dan: Yeah, what about it? Mike: You can take the tokens you get from one of the casinos to one of those booths, and they will buy them off you for the same amount you spent on them. Dan: What! he said, sounding surprised. Wait a minute, he mumbled, realizing something. Joe: Yup. And would know it, youll conveniently find one of those booths outside every casino in the area. Mike: Its a loophole. You get one business to sell and gamble with the tokens and then get another to buy the tokens. Thus, its not legally considered gambling. And of course, the booths and casino are both owned by the Nighthounds. They managed to figure out a slightly convoluted way to legally gamble. Dan: How do they skirt around the law with the brothels then? Joe: Not sure. But, Im sure its another convoluted way to make it technically legal like the casinos. Mike: From what I understand, They are technically registered as hotels. And, those half-naked people you see in those display windows are not prostitutes, they''re employees offering room services. You''re technically not paying to get your rocks off at a brothel, you''re paying for a room and which person they have in those displays over there to give you room service. Dan: Oh, come on. Its obvious what they''re doing over there, he said while pointing to one of the nearby brothels. A mostly human-looking mutant girl with floppy rabbit ears notices Dan pointing in her direction. She seductively bit her lip while making a gesturing motion with her index finger for Dan to come to her, she also made a provocative pose to push her breast out further. Dan saw that and blushed before turning back to Mike and Joe. Joe: He he. This kid is still so innocent, he laughed at Dans embarrassment. Dan: Ugh, he mumbled in frustration. Mike: It might be obvious to you and me, but that''s the way it is. If you tried to bring a legal case against it, the establishment can argue they didnt sell any sexual service to you, and that what''s going on between consenting adults in one of their rooms is none of their business. he said, ignoring Dans embarrassed look, not wanting to dogpile or make fun of him for it. Dan: But, its obviously not a hotel. Mike: Yeah, but If you ever go into one of those brothels, it has everything to be legally considered a hotel. It has rooms with a bed and working toiletry. It''s also very clean. The girls and guys you hire for room service clean up everything after you''re done. Joe turned towards Mike with a curious look. Joe: How do you know the prostitutes you hire are the ones that do the cleanup? That seems like a little too much detail for you to know just from only secondhand accounts. Unless this is a firsthand account Mike: Um, anyways. The brothels are the main source of income for the Nighthounds as I understand. he said while looking away from Joe. Joe: Are you just going to ignore me? Dan: Not the casino? Mike: Im sure the casinos get a ton of cash. But, it is the brothels that are the real money makers around here. Rich kids from the university and nobles are really into having sex with mutants and spend a whole lot of money here. Sleeping with a mutant is exotic for them I guess, he explained to Dan, while continuing to ignore Joe. Joe: OK. I guess I am being ignored. he said, giving up figuring out why Mike seems to know so much about the brothels in the Red-light district. Dan: Please dont take this question the wrong way, but why are the rich so OK with sleeping with mutants? You told me before that many in the upper class in Graheel dont like associating with mutants. Mike: Simple, they''re hypocrites. Despite how racist some of them are against mutants, they''re all too happy to lust after them and want to sleep with them. And, they can live out their sexual fantasy here without worry about it coming back to bite them in the ass later. The Nighthounds prevent any information about their clients from leaking out, as they know its bad business if they allow unsavory rumors to spread it''s more prestigious customers. On top of that, the majority of mutants are sterile and immune to most diseases. Perfect if you want to avoid unwanted children or an STI. Add it all together, and you got the perfect plan to funnel money from the upper echelons of society to the Nighthounds coffers. Dan: Ohhhdamn. This whole place is fucking crazy. Mike: Tell me about it. Joe came up to Mike and grabbed him by his shirt aggressively, wrapping the fabric around his fist to give him a better grip. Mike was surprised and tried to move back as far as the slack in his clothing would allow. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Mike: Whoa! Fucking calm down! Fine, yes! I might have gone to a brothel once a long time ago! Joe didnt say anything in response to Mikes claims of attending a brothel. He then grabbed Dan as well and pulled his whole team out of the middle of the street and off to the side, before letting them all go. Mike: What the fuck are you he stopped mid-sentence, as he noticed the approach of someone. Walking down the middle of the street were two men. One of them was a tall golden retriever mutant with big brown eyes and golden fur from head to toe. The other was a shorter normal human-looking man with spiked black hair. They both wore matching gray ties and black custom suits with vertical stripe patterns woven in. The shorter non-mutant man looked to be wearing something that looked akin to a dog collar around his neck. Both these men carried themselves with an air of authority. Nearby pedestrians saw them and made a wide berth around the imposing men at their approach, some looking a little nervous by their very presence. Joe made a clear gesture to his team not to say anything. The two imposing men kept walking forward right towards where Joe and his group were just standing before they were pulled to the side. Tension in the air was high. Joe and his entire team just looked on as the two men passed them by without even glancing at them. The two men kept walking and eventually made some distance away from Joe. Everyone started to relax again. Dan: Gulp, w-who were those two? Everyone looked scared of them. Joe: Dont know them personally, but those two were clear as day Nighthound members. High ranking ones too. You dont normally see those kinds of members on the outskirts of the Red-light district. They normally stick to the central area of the Red-light district, where the more expensive establishments are. Mike: What do you think they''re doing here? Joe: Dont know. But, thats not why were here. Dan: Um, how did you know they were Nighthound if you dont personally know them? Joe: If you see a mutant wearing an expensive suit, it''s like a fifty-fifty chance that their Nighthound members. But, the real tell is the dog collars. That non-mutant guy was wearing one. Only mid to high ranking members of the Nighthounds are allowed to wear those collars. Its the clearest indication of their association with the organization. So if you see anyone wearing a dog collar, stay clear away from them. They''re dangerous. Dan: More dangerous than the Nighthounds without collars? Joe: Maybe? Actually, dont fuck with anyone from the Nighthounds. They''re all dangerous. Mike: The ones with collars are definitely higher up on the pecking order, so I can only imagine that makes it a little more dangerous. Dan: What''s the deal with the collars? Why do they make high ranking members wear them? Joe: Dont know. I''m sure it has something to do with their weird obsession with loyalty. Anyways, lets begin searching. Its been a really long time since me and Mike came here, so I cant remember where everything exactly is. Were looking for a bar called the Milky Nips. At the mention of the bar''s name, Dan slightly giggled. Joe: What are ya, like ten? Almost all the businesses here have sexual innuendos to their name. he said while rolling his eyes. Joe started to wander off from the group, leaving Dan and Mike to search together again, as they didnt want Dan by himself. ?????????????????? Joe walked along the street through the crowd of people. He noticed a group of male university students wandering into one of the brothels. They were all laughing and seemed to be having a good time. All of them were wearing yellow robes, a sign they were likely from the Gilded Sun college. The kind of people the veteran detective expected to find here. He noted the group and made a mental note to stay away from them. He already got in trouble with arguing with Gilded Sun students before and didnt want another incident. He continued to search through the street for another twenty minutes. Sex workers constantly tried to draw him in with their provocative display every time his eyes met theirs. The number of people walking around was excessive. It seems like it was a busy day for the Red-light district between the casinos and brothels. He was having a hard time looking for that Bar he told his team to search for. There were too many people getting in the way. Ugh, I chose such a terrible day to come. Should have come during midweek instead of the weekend. There would have been less people. Joe thought to himself. As he moved through the hordes of people, in the corner of his eye he saw someone. Joe thought he saw a pale woman wearing a black and white frilly ballroom dress, with a wide-brim hat obscuring her face with a veil hanging from it. The woman looked like the one he lost sight of near Vaal Street. Joe turned his head towards her, but another passerby walked in front of him and blocked his line of sight for a brief second. As the person blocking his sight quickly walked by, Joe looked toward where he thought he saw that strange woman, she was gone. It was like she was never there. Instead, in the area where he thought he saw the mysterious woman, sitting there was a figure in purple robes. The figure looked to be female and had a table set up with a crystal ball on it. It seemed like some sort of fortuneteller. His curiosity now peaked, he approached the fortuneteller. As he approached, the fortuneteller lifted her face to look at Joe. Through the hood of her robes, Joe could see a relatively young woman with intricate tribal tattoos on one side of her face and a whole bunch of piercings. She had a calm look to her with welcoming green eyes. Fortuneteller: Are you here for a reading? Joe: No. Did you happen to see a pale-looking woman with a frilly black dress just walk by? Fortuneteller: I cant say I''ve seen anyone like that today. Anyways, can I read your fortune? Joe: No, thats OK. Fortuneteller: Are you sure? Its free. Joe: A fortuneteller giving out free fortunes, around here? Little odd dont you think, he said, curious about the fortuneteller''s intention. Fortuneteller: Well, I did a reading for myself today, and it said that I must give a reading to the first man that approaches me, which happens to be you." Joe: OK, in that case. Might as well I guess. The women nodded. She then put her crystal ball to the side and pulled out a deck of cards. Once Joe saw this, he became disappointed. Divination magic is very real, if a bit inaccurate a lot of times. It still used modern magecraft theory in its application and was recognized as a legitimate type of magic for it. However, Joe knew there was no form of divination magic that used cards to try and make predictions. As far as he knew, only people who still practiced the superstitious old ways" were the ones who still used this form of archaic divination. Fortuneteller: What? You thought I was a Seer of Argon or something? she said, noticing Joes disappointment. Seers of Argon were the most famous divination users. Boasting the highest accuracy of their predictions above any others. Many world leaders looked to those seers for advice and guidance. They were the gold standard in the field of divination magic. The fortuneteller was clearly not one of those seers. Joe: No, justnot a big believer in the old ways." Fortuneteller: The old ways dont need you to believe in them, she said as she shuffled the cards in her hands. After a few seconds of shuffling, she started pulling cards from the deck and laid them out in odd patterns on the table. The cards that were face up had all kinds of imagery from sad maidens to crows and beetles on them. None of it had any particular meaning for Joe. Eventually, the cards she laid out started to form a semicircle on top of the table. The woman pulled out one final card and flipped it face up in the circle she had made. The card she flipped was a bit surprising to see and eerie, on it was the image of a skeleton in black robes holding a wicked-looking scythe. Below the image was the word: Death. Fortuneteller: It seems that death walks with you, and maybe its what you need. Joe: You''re not telling me to go kill myself? Fortuneteller: No, what I mean is that cards tell me that something is clinging to you. Something you must let die. Maybe something like regret, but the cards also indicate its much deeper than that. Both related to regret and something more, and in that death stands beside you. Tell me, do you have some sort of regret? Joe: Thats none of your business. Fortuneteller: That''s a yes. You are unwilling to talk about it, which is a sign of you continuing to run from your problem. And, thats why you need death. To put an end to something so that you may move forward. Joe: OK. You''re good at cold reading, I''ll give you that, but this is not telling me much about my future. he said, indicating he didnt believe what she was saying. Fortuneteller: Im getting there. she said, as she looked over all the cards she laid out. Lets see. The cards are telling me that the current path is pointless. That you will not find what you''re looking for. Instead, you may end up finding nothing? she said, sounding unsure about the last part of the fortune. Joe: Nothing? Why do you sound unsure about it? Fortuneteller: Because this is a first for me. The cards have never come out like this before. Its more than nothing. Its like there is a gap in your future for some reason. A void that cant be seen. Maybe I''m reading this wrong. Joe: Youre not very good at this. Fortuneteller: Oh, shut it. Now, what do you want to know? she said, sounding a little annoyed at Joes comment. Joe let out a really deep sigh. He didnt really believe anything this lady was saying, but since he started the process of getting his fortune, he figured hed go the whole way. Joe: If the current path is pointless, what must I do to find the thing Im looking for? The fortuneteller nodded and dealt a few more cards from her deck onto the table. Fortuneteller: It says here, what you seek is closer than you think. To know what you search for, seek the truth in the falsedruid? she said, sounding unsure about the last part of the fortune again. Joe: False druid? Whats that supposed to mean? he said, both confused and a little surprised. Joe was expecting an extremely vague answer like most charlatan seers might give people, but what the fortuneteller said was strangely specific. It was still confusing and sounded like nonsense to Joe, but it was more than he expected. Fortuneteller: Um, not sure. This card here is the druid, and the druid represents natural order and old knowledge. But, its overlaid with the devil, which means it is a lie. So, false druid. But, seeking truth in a lie doesn''t make sense. Hmm, Im definitely reading this wrong." Joe: Again, you''re really bad at this. Fortuneteller: Pft, whatever. You get what you paid for. Joe: I didnt pay anything. Fortuneteller: Exactly. Joe just rolled his eyes at the fortuneteller. Joe: Anyways, I wasted enough time. Do you happen to know where a bar called the Milky Nips is? Fortuneteller: Hmm, maybe I know. But, dont you wanna buy a girl a drink first? she said with a smile while making subtle gestures towards Joe. Joe let out another sigh. He knew these kinds of people and could read them like an open book. She was using doublespeak to basically say she wanted him to pay her for the information. The grumpy detective reached into his pocket and pulled out fifty glints and placed it on the table. Joe: Let''s just skip to the part where you tell me where it is. The fortuneteller quickly scooped up the money, almost before it even touched the table. She then started giving Joe directions. Fortuneteller: Head up the street there and make a right turn at Kissy Hotel. It is just around the corner, she said while pointing in the direction Joe needed to go. Joe turned his head and saw that the hotel the fortuneteller mentioned was only thirty feet away from where he currently was. Joe: Its that close? You couldnt just tell me? Fortuneteller: Girls gotta eat somehow. Joe rolled his eyes again at the fortuneteller. He headed off to find his team and headed over to the Milky Nips bar. Chapter 55 - The Mutt Of The Group Joe and his crew gathered outside of the bar called the Milky Nips. The bar had a giant neon sign with the silhouette of a woman drinking a cocktail. There was no window at all on the building to the bar, and loud music could be heard playing inside. There was a pair of thick metal doors leading in. One door for VIPs and the other for everyone else. The bar seemed like it was a popular place, as there was a lineup of people waiting to get inside. Dan: Is this the place? Joe: I guess? he said, sounding unsure. Dan: Why dont you sound sure? Joe: This place used to be a shit hole the last time I was here years ago, but it has changed a lot since then. Theres actually people waiting to get in, he said while looking at the lineup of people dressed like they''re ready to party. Mike: Are we sure that our guy still even works here? Joe: No, but only one way to find out, he said as approached the front of the bar. Standing at the door to the bar were two large and muscular mutant men both wearing matching white t-shirts and brown suspenders. One of them was a Lion mutant with a feline head and a full golden mane and fur. The lion mutant had no tail. The other was a crocodile mutant with a long snout and rows of sharp teeth like the animal he took after. The mutant crocodile man was covered in leathery scales from head to toe with a thick tail sticking out his back. They were clearly bouncers for this establishment. Lion Mutant: To the back of the line with ya. Joe: Im here to see Cory. Crocodile mutant: Whos asking to see that mutt? he said, with his arms crossed while leaning near the entrance of the bar. Joe: Go fuck yourself! he yelled out. Dan and a bunch of people in the nearby line who saw this were all shocked. All the onlookers were thinking the same thing: This guy is screwed. The crocodile mutant straightened his posture and made a hissing sound similar to what his feral animal counterpart might have made as a warning. His reptilian expression made it hard to tell what he was thinking, but between the sound he was making and what was said, everyone would assume the mutant man was angry. The mutant crocodile man walked over to Joe. He got real close and bent down to stick his face right into Joe. He stared down the detective with his reptilian eyes, clearly trying to intimidate him. Joe continued with a deadpan expression and refused to show any sign of what he was feeling. The rookie officer watched on as his leader was confronted by a much bigger and scary-looking mutant man. Sweating with worry that this was about to turn into a confrontation. Crocodile mutant: Are you friend or foe to that mutt? Joe: Why does it matter? Crocodile mutant: It doesn''t, he said as he backed away from Joe. But, if you are a foe to Cory, I will tell you this. If you want to rough him up a bit, me and the rest of the boys will look the other way. Joe: What''s that supposed to mean? Is he not popular around here or something? Crocodile mutant: Heh. You have no idea, the mutant lizard man said before walking over to the VIP door and pulling it open. Anyways, in ya go, he said while gesturing to Joe and his crew to head inside with his thumb. Some of the onlookers waiting in the line looked surprised and confused that they were just being let in. Joe and Mike immediately headed inside. Dan lagged behind for a second, confused about what just happened, but immediately caught up and followed behind. The air became a little warmer and the sound of the blaring music could now be physically felt. As it caused the air to vibrate in here. The group walked up a flight of stairs that took them to the second level of the bar, exclusive for VIPs. As they climbed, Dan started to ask his seniors what just happened. Dan: What the fuck was that about. Why did he let you in after telling him to fuck off. Joe: Its the password. Dan: Password? Joe: Yup, if you drop the name of someone that works here then tell the bouncers specifically go fuck yourself, theyll let you in. Mike: It is kind of a good password. No one in their right mind would say that to a bouncer. Dan: But you said it was years ago since you were here. What if they had changed their password since then, or if this Cory guy doesn''t work here anymore? Joe: Then that would have gone poorly. Dan was stunned at the recklessness of Joe. Using an old password that could be easily mistaken for an insult seemed beyond foolish without prior knowledge that it still worked. Yet, that was what just happened. The team made its way to the second floor of the bar. Music was blaring and everything was illuminated by colored lights of some combination of red, purple, and blue. The second floor had a balcony that looked over the main floor. Below was a stage with an attractive young lady dancing on a pole. At the edges of the stage where people were cheering on the dance with drinks in hand, some throwing money at her. There was also a large dance floor below with people dancing to the music. The second floor had fewer people here than the one down below, but the bar looked stocked with even more expensive-looking drinks. There were rows of doors leading to a private room, likely where most of the VIPs were currently. Joe saw a bartender currently not serving anyone and just standing behind a bar table. Joe went over to talk to him. Joe: Hey, do you know where Cory is? The man was cleaning a glass and looked up to see Joe. He wore a fancy bartender suit with a red tie. His clothing tightly clung to his body. He had an athletic build. The bartender had short salt and pepper hair and looked rugged with an intimidating tattoo of a snake on the side of his face. Bartender: Who wants to know. Joe: A customer. Bartender: Whatcha buying? Joe: Is that any of your business? Bartender: It kinda is. Since I''m the owner. This is my bar. Inwardly, Joe was surprised to hear that. He didnt expect this bartender to be the owner of the Milky Nips. However, he made no indication with his facial expression or body language of his surprise. He was doing everything to not reveal his emotions to anyone here. Joe: I see Bartender: Did that surprise you? Joe: Should it? he said, trying to be obtuse. Bartender: Maybe. Hmm. Youre not from around here, are you? he said, placing the glass he was cleaning down and leaning forward slightly. Joe: Why would you say that? he said in an elusive way. Bartender: You wouldnt have casually come up to me if you knew who I was. It''s Barney by the way, he said, introducing himself. Joe: Well, Barney. Im here to buy information. Barney: From Cory? Pft. Why would you buy information from that mutt? Joe: I take it hes not very popular around here. Barney: Now why would you say that? he said with a cocky smile, parroting Joes obtuse answer from before. Joe: Because you dont sound impressed that Im asking for him, and the guy at the front said I could beat the shit out of him if I wanted. Barney: Guy at the front? Oh, yeah. Ken is watching the door today. I guess he would ask you to do that. But yeah, that fucking mutt is the bane of my existence. So if you want to beat the crap out of him, you have my blessing too. Joe: What did he do to piss you off? Barney: Hmm. Normally I wouldnt tell you that kind of information, but its Cory. So I dont give a fuck. Theres not one thing I specifically hate about him, its a lot of stuff. But if you force my hand, the main thing I hate about that shit is him waving around the Nighthounds name so casually. The guys a fucking mutt and just thinks he can drop our name and get what he wants. Because of that, Ive had to clean up his mess so many times Joe: OK, sounds like you really hate him. Barney: We all hate him. Im not even surprised Ken asked you to beat the shit out of him. Its taken me a lot of effort to keep Ken from killing Cory after what he did to his sister. Beating up on a brothel girl whose mutant brother works here is not too smart, and under normal circumstances, I would kick him out for that if he didnt have that stupid get out of jail free card the higher-ups gave him a decade ago. Joe heard through the grapevine that the Nighthounds gave Cory some special privileges from his activities in the past. It sounded like those privileges were tying Barney''s hands. However, those same privileges didnt seem to help grow Corys rank in the organization either by the sound of things. Joe: I see, still as pleasant as I recall, he said while making a mental note of this to potentially use against Cory later. Barney: Yeah You''re like a private investigator working for a noble or rich guy, right? he said while looking at Joes clothing and noticing the outline of what he assumed was a firearm under his jacket. Joe: Yes, but Im not going to say who we work for. he said, lying. Barney: That''s fine. I know how you guys work. But, lets cut a deal between you and me. Cory always pushes the line of whats allowed as a Nighthound, but never crosses it. He has some immunity, but he knows if he crosses that line, hes fucked. So if you can get some compromising dirt on Cory, I can pay you. Joe: What are you offering? Joe didnt actually care about the deal. He intended to refuse the offer, but he had to play the part of an unscrupulous investigator to keep suspicion down. Barney: Hundred thousand glint, and any information you want for free. I have higher access to information than Cory does, so whatever you''re looking for, I''ll probably have a better chance of finding it than that mutt. Joe: Thats a lot, he said, surprised by the amount that was being offered. Barney: Thats how much I want that fucker gone. You find information about him going against the Nighthounds, like working with other gangs or cops, and it''s all yours. No questions asked. Cory is enough of a fuckup I''m sure hes done something like that recently or in the past. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. At the mention of cops, Dan made a slightly nervous twitch. Thankfully, Barney didnt see it. Joe: Well keep that in mind. But first, we still would like to talk to Cory. Barney: Hmm, fine. Go to private room eighteen. Ill send him over to you. And, remember my offer, he said before walking off somewhere. Joe nodded and walked away with his team. He looked at the nearby doors and saw that they were numbered. He walked along the row of doors until he found room eighteen. They entered inside. The walls of the room were covered in a mix of red velvet and giant mirrors. In the center of the room was a mini stage with another metal pole in the center. Surrounding the stage were crescent-shaped couches with a tacky leopard print pattern on them. They conformed to the shape of the elevated area they were facing. Off to the side was a small table with a dozen clean empty glasses and a cabinet before it to hold liquor. Dan: This is the Red-light district, right? Is it safe to assume this room is used for more than just private dances? Mike: Id say thats a safe bet. Dan: OK. Good to know. Im not touching anything. he said, with a look of disgust and concern about the bodily fluids the furniture in this room may have come in contact with. Joe: I wouldnt worry about anything here being dirty if thats what you''re worried about. These are the VIP rooms for their big paying customers. So, they''re gonna make sure everything is scrubbed down good. Dan: Even so, Im gonna stand just in case. Joe: Suit yourself, he said as he took a seat on the couch. Mike followed Joe''s lead and took a seat beside him. Dan just stood beside the both of them, making sure he didnt touch anything. A few minutes went by in silence. Dan felt uncomfortable with the silence, so he started to ask a question. Dan: Um, can I ask some questions about this Cory guy, or is that not OK to do here? Mike: Nah, its fine. Just keep in mind that theres a good chance this room is bugged and the Nighthounds are listening. So choose your words wisely, or I might not be able to answer. Dan: Um, ok. Is he a dog mutant? Ive noticed everyone here that knows him keeps calling him a mutt? Joe: He is a mutant, but is no dog mutant with any major animalistic traits. Just an extra toe if I recall. He looks mostly human. Mike taught you that there are mutants that can look like a completely normal human, right? Dan: I already knew that. Joe: Just asking, you were pretty ignorant about mutants when we first met. Dan: Still, why are they calling him a mutt? Joe: Its a ranking in the Nighthounds. Mutts are the lowest rank. Mike: Yeah, Im surprised hes still at that rank after all these years, but at the same time I''m not. Dan: Why do you say that? Mike: Oh, that''s because he paused mid-sentence from the sound of the door opening. The door to the private room swung open to reveal a smarmy-looking man who walked into the room. The man, who Dan assumed was Cory, wore a dirty black suit with a messy white undershirt. He had short oily black hair with a large forehead and a face that could only be described as rat-like. Despite having no visible inhuman qualities, Dan couldn''t help but feel like this guy really looked like a rat to him. He was just one small mutation away from people just assuming he was a rat mutant. Cory: Oh, fuck me. Its you. he said, while glaring at Joe and the door closing behind him. Joe: Nice to see you too, Cory. Cory: Do you have brain worms? What part of let us never see each other again did you not understand, he said, referring to their last interaction. Joe: Cmon, Its been years. Me and Mike, have missed you, he said, sarcastically. Cory: Fuck off. Give me one good reason why I shouldnt yell that there''s a pig in the house, and get the whole gang to bust in here and fill you with lead. he said, threatening Joe. Dan, standing behind the couch Joe was sitting on, eyes widened. He started to get worried and a little scared that his life was in danger. Joe didnt know how many members of the Nighthounds there were in this bar, but there were probably a lot. If Cory screamed out that they were cops, they wouldnt be making it out of this unscathed. However, Joe expected this and was prepared. Joe: I know you wont. Because you''re a coward. Cory: Fuck you. Joe: Your standing in the Nighthounds doesn''t look that good. I get the feeling no one would come even if you called for them. And if they did, would they even believe you? And let''s not forget, this so-called hypothetical pig has a giant case file and evidence on you that might get utilized if said hypothetical pig doesn''t return. he said, choosing his words carefully. So, as not to confirm they were cops, on the chance someone else was listening. Cory: Oh, youre threatening me now? Well, your case file is gonna do jack. Nothing you can do to me as long as Im with the Nighthounds. Im above the law. Joe: Maybe, but I would be more worried about what the Nighthounds would do if that case file got released. I wonder how much they know about when you turned on the Skull Crusher during the bloody days and then joined their side in that conflict. Cory just glared at Joe with an intense amount of hatred. Joe knew Cory wasn''t going to do anything to him or his team. The former Skull Crusher gang member turned Nighthound was a massive coward. He would be too afraid to try an act out against Joe if it risked information about his activities during the Bloody Days got out. Joe learned about Cory''s activities during his investigation of Rob back in the day. Cory was pretending to be a turncoat and joined the Nighthounds to get information on them, all under Robs order. The veteran investigator learned about that and used that information against him, turning Cory into his own informant back then. That was until Rob disappeared and the situation finally stabilized. The former Skull Crusher ended up actually joining the Nighthounds fully, and contact had been cut off between Joe and him for some time now. In Joes mind, it was likely that Cory never bothered to fully explain the duplicative nature of his betrayal of the Skull Crusher to the Nighthounds, and Cory''s reaction seemed like that was the case. The Nighounds would never tolerate a snitch, and Joe was using this fact to shield himself and get information from the Nighthound mutt in front of him. Cory: Tch, what do you want? Joe: Information. Cory: I know. You wouldn''t be bothering me otherwise. What information? Joe: How about you take a seat and let''s talk about it. Maybe catch up, or tell us what youve been up to? he said, gesturing for him to take a seat. Cory: My personal life is none of your business, he said while taking a seat across from Joe. Joe: Fair enough, but you should do well to keep your personal life out of your business. Cory: What''s that supposed to mean? Joe: I heard you have been beating up girls. Wasn''t even really asking for that information, but got it anyway. Your compatriots seem to hate you, Cory." Cory: Fuck me. They''re still going on about that. I paid the bitch, so I have the right to do whatever I want with her." Still the same piece of shit I remember. Joe silently thought to himself, inwardly disgusted at Cory. Joe: Right If you want to fuck up your life, be my guest, but do it after you help me out. Not that I''m confident you can help. A mutt? Really? How long has it been, and you''re still at the lowest rank? They even give you special privileges for betraying the Skull Crushers, and you still couldnt increase your rank. Cory: Pft, as if you know anything. Joe: I know that access to the Nighthound information network is based on rank in the gang. The higher the rank, the more info you have access to. Cory: You think I want to be a mutt? They dont trust me for shit. I gave them everything, and they still treat me like dirt. Joe: Not surprising. They value loyalty. Probably wondering how loyal a turncoat from another gang really is. Cory: Did ya quit your job and join the Nighthounds, cause you sound an awful lot like them. Joe: How much access do you have? he said, ignoring the comment Cory made. Cory: Tell me what you want to know, and then I''ll tell ya. Oh, and if this is anything related to the Nighthounds themselves, forget it. I wont help you then. Joe: I want three things. I want any information you have on your former boss Rob, then I want information on everyone that used to live on 666 Vaal Street, and finally, I want to know how to get in contact with an expert on curses. Cory: Let me think he mumbled, as he looked like he was in deep thought. Not sure about Information on Rob, but the information on him would be old, so I might have some access. Info on people living somewhere on Vaal Street should be easy enough to get a hold of. An expert on curses? That one is odd. Why are you looking to curse someone? Joe: I''m not looking to curse anyone. Im looking for someone who knows a lot about curses. Not a common mage, but someone of exceptional power and knowledge on the subject. Maybe someone equivalent to an archmage who specializes in curses, if that was a thing. Cory: Ahhhh, dont know about that. Ill look, but I doubt Ill find anything. Joe: What about the keeper of secrets? Both Mike and Dan looked at Joe surprised by the fact he brought up such a vague rumor from Wren. Dan: Joe, thats just a rumor. Cory: Whos this kid? he said, finally noticing Dan''s presence for the first time. Joe: Dont mind him. Just tell me if you know where I could find this keeper. Cory: Well, that kid is right. Its just a rumor thats been going around. Nothing more. Mike: Is that the Nighthounds opinion, or is this yours? he said, chiming in. Cory: Ugh, probably mine. If the higher-ups knew about someone that has a bunch of ancient magic and artifacts, they definitely wont tell a mutt about it. Joe: So that means it is unlikely youll find anything, even if there was. Cory: Yup, your shit out of luck there. Anyway, its going to take me a while to find this info for you. Ill contact you later once I have something. Joe: OK, call this number when you do, he said, handing a piece of paper with a phone number to Cory. Cory: Uggh, this got me stressed. Im going for a smoke. Wanna join me, Joe? Joe raised an eyebrow curiously. Cory hated him with a passion, and wouldnt just casually ask him to go smoking with. He knew there was a deeper meaning to what he was being said. The senior investigator''s gut told him to go along with what Cory was offering. Joe: Surelets catch up. Dan: Huh? Joe: You guys go wait in the alleyways we were at earlier. Ill meet up with you in a little bit. Dan: But ah Mike: Sure thing, Joe, he said, cutting off Dan. Mike grabbed Dan and they left the bar. Cory got up and left the private room with Joe following behind. They walked past many bar tables as they entered another stairwell at the back. They descended down to a door that opened into an alleyway by the bar. Stepping outside, Joe could feel the cold crisp air of the night. The pleasant cool feeling he got was ruined by the smell of piss that also hung in the air. Cory looked around the alley to make sure no one was around. Once he saw only he and Joe were the only ones there, he pulled out a lighter and lit a cigarette for himself. He inhaled deeply before blowing out a puff of smoke. Cory: I want you to destroy that case file on me and never bother me again. This time for real. Joe: I see, so you want payment for this information. Cory: Yeah, Ill even tell you about the keeper of secrets if you do this for me. Joe: So this person does exist. Why didnt you tell me this back inside? Cory: Because those rooms are bugged. And, part of me giving you this information involves also promising to never reveal where you got it from. Joe: That serious? Waitare you not supposed to tell others about this? Joe realized that the caution Cory demonstrated was for a reason. He could only imagine Cory had information that he wasn''t supposed to be sharing. Cory: Im not answering any more questions. Either agree or fuck off. Joe was already facing a dead end in his investigation. He knew he didnt have much more time before Murdock forced a bunch more work on him. Once that happens, he wont be able to dedicate as much time to figuring out who murdered Rob. Recognizing this, he nodded, agreeing with this deal with Cory. Cory: Good. There is this place on Eld Street. Its like an antique store between a bakery and an alchemist shop, and apparently, it is really hard to find. The keeper of secrets guy youre looking for is probably there. Joe: Probably? Why dont you sound so sure? I thought you were telling me where this keeper of secrets is? Cory: I am. I think? The information might have a few holes in it. Its like giga classified. Waaaaay above my rank. So the amount I know is limited. Im not even supposed to know what I know about this, let alone tell anyone about it. Joe: Then why do you know? Cory: I may have come across it by accident while looking through a computer connected to our information broker network. Joe: How do you accidentally come across super classified information? Cory: Look, it actually was an accident. The computer I was using bugged out and gave me the file on that location. I probably shouldn''t have looked, but its not every day you get access to the highest rank of classified information in the network that only the Nightqueen herself could access. Joe''s eyes widened in surprise. The Nightqueen was the leader of the Nighthounds. Cory having information that only his boss should know was beyond what Joe ever expected. Joe: Wait, its that classified?! OK. I get what''s going on. This is why youre being so secretive. If the Nighthounds find out about this Cory: This is why you need to shut your mouth, ''cause if they find out I told you this, you''re dead with me. Joe: Fine. But is this keeper of secrets real? Cory: The file I read didnt specify that this guy was the keeper of secrets, but it did outline that the person living there is super powerful, like unimaginably powerful if what I read was true. So I''m assuming the keeper of secrets and the guy on Eld Street are the same person. Joe: Is he like, can cast ancient curse magic powerful? Cory: Thats like baby magic with what I read. Its more on the level of ancient giants magic, maybe even greater." Joe just gave a look of disbelief at what was just said. He couldnt imagine someone having magic on the scale of ancient giants. The stories of the magic those ancient creatures could wield were said to be capable of terraforming the entire world. They would create mountains of impossible sizes and cities that could fly through the sky. They could even create entirely new continents and oceans. It was on a scale few could imagine today. A forgotten magic that modern-day giants cant use anymore, as it was lost to time from what Joe understood. Despite what Cory was saying, Joe didnt believe this person was as powerful as was being claimed. However, he was still willing to entertain that this guy was powerful. Joe: Right Have you met this person? Eld Street is actually not too far from here. Also, does this guy have a name? Cory: No on both accounts. The file had missing info in it, which included this guys name. Joe: Is there anything else you can tell me about this guy? Cory: He can be identified by his red eyes and a white dog that constantly follows him around. Anything else, youll have to go talk to him yourself if you want to know. Just be sure you dont piss off that guys dog. I dont know how or why, but apparently the dog that follows him around is extremely dangerous. Anyway, you know where to look now. And, remember what you promised. Destroy those files, and dont tell anybody where you got this info from. Ill contact you later when I get your other information you wanted. he said, before quickly leaving. Cory departed and went back into the Milky Nips, leaving Joe alone in the alley. Joe: Sigh, it''s not great, but its something. I guess we will check out that guy on Eld Street later. Hopefully that guy knows something, he mumbled, before departing to go meetup with his team. (Author''s Note: For reference to help understand the value of currency in this world, 1 Glint = 1 USD.) Intermission VI
In the heart of the Graheel University inside a heavily enhanced meeting room was a gathering of mages. The mages gathered here were some of the most influential mages in the whole of the Union States, and possibly the entire continent. There were seven of them, each an archmage and respective headmaster for each of the colleges of the university. Dakka Vinko of Grayscale, Jenna Lor of the Gilded Sun, Cooper Stanis of Ember Gear, Linda Yazhu of Silverwing, Marlyn Koa of Lionheart, Yaren Zuzanna of Shroompact, and Lazarus Vaal of Arcane Eye. All here wearing their respective robes of their college while sitting around a table. The combined arcane power of the individuals gathered here was enough to destroy nations. Jenna: I hope you have some good news for you to call this meeting. Specifically related to that necromancy matter. Dakka: It is related, but its not good news. Jenna: Uggh. Dakka, please. I cant take this anymore. I have hordes of nobles banging at my door, calling for me to explain ourselves to them. So, either give me some good news that I can show to those people, or clean up the mess you made. Linda: Hey now. Its not Dakkas fault that this happened. Jenna: Isn''t it. Sorin was a professor at the Grayscale college. Its Dakkas responsibility to manage the professor that works at that college. Marlyn: Lets be reasonable, how was he supposed to know this was going on? Sorin was hiding this from everyone. Jenna: Stop making excuses! None of you here have the right! It was me who pointed out something strange was going on months ago, but no one here listened to me. If you had all just done a thorough investigation like I wanted, we might have avoided all this. Cooper: Jenna, there was no basis to do an investigation. Jenna: The cosmic forces were off! Cooper: This is ridiculous. We cant make policies off of constellations, the archmage of the ember gear college rebuked. Jenna: You wanna know whats really ridiculous! Having a necromancer as a professor working here while he conducts experiments on our precious students! Linda: Calm down Jenna. she said, the Silverwing archmage trying to de-escalate the situation. Jenna: I will not calm down! It seems that I''m the only one here that cares about the thirty students that are now dead, the archmage of the Gilded Sun said, angrily. Lazarus: Jenna, I will not ask you to calm down and will give you full credit that you were right at the time, but please let Dakka talk. Were here for a reason, he said, his word carrying more weight due to being head of the Arcane Eye. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Jenna just puffed out her cheeks and crossed her arms. She then slightly nodded in agreement to Lazarus'' words and turned to Dakka to hear what he had to say. Dakka: Thanks, Lazarus. So, Ive called a meeting today to discuss the investigation me and the rest of the Grayscale and enforcers have done, he said, clearing his throat before continuing. Through our investigation, we have concluded that Sorin was not acting alone. He had additional help. Marlyn: That is to be expected. Im sure his assistant Jixi was in on it. He went missing after we found out about Sorins deception. Dakka: No, it is not just that. We are suspecting he had outside helpfrom a cult. Specifically, Rattle Bone. The room went deathly silent. Having a cult involved was serious, but having one of the big three cults involved brought the severity of the situation to an extreme level. Cooper: Are you sure? What basis do you have to conclude that? Dakka: We confirmed the claims of those students who stopped Sorin. They said he was using spirit binding magic, and we found prohibited materials in his private lab on campus that would suggest he was using that type of magic. Jenna: He had prohibited materials, and that didnt send off alarm bells in your head? Linda: Jenna, please let Dakka finish. Dakka: As you all know, we at the Grayscale college study dark magic, as a means to create countermeasures for it. It is not strange for Sorin to have that kind of material, what was strange was that he never registered the material, so no one knew he had it in his private lab. he said, responding to Jennas comments. Marlyn: OK, but that doesn''t explain cult involvement, the archmage of the Lionheart said, expressing doubt. Dakka: WeI have concluded that the magic Sorin was using is beyond his level of skill. Pulling souls out of people''s bodies while not damaging them is not a simple type of magic. It comes with too many difficulties, and you need a lot of talent and expertise, or you risk killing yourself with it. Its the kind of expertise I believe that you can only find in the biggest necromantic order in the world, the Rattle Bone cult. Cooper: Maybe he was skilled enough to cast that spirit binding magic himself. There is no reason to assume cult involvement. Dakka: You didnt know Sorin as well as I did. He definitely couldn''t have cast that kind of magic without some help. Cooper: This is still speculation. Yaren: It is speculation, but we should still assume Dakkas right. Too many innocents have died already. We cant afford for this to happen again. We need to make sure no cultists are hiding in our school somewhere, the archmage of the Shroompact said, finally speaking up in this meeting. Linda: Agreed, well do a thorough investigation to make sure there are no Rattle Bone cultists in our midst. Is there anything else your investigation turned up? Dakka: We do have some names of people to look into, but he stopped mid-sentence, as he began to think about what he was going to say. Lazarus: But what? Dakka: Many of them are off campus. Our enforcers have no authority outside the university. So, we cant look into it as efficiently as we want. Lazarus: I see he said trailing off into thought for a moment. I may have a plan that might help with that issue, and it might help with Jennas problem as well." Jenna: You have a solution to our problems? Please tell. Lazarus: We''ll have to go back on our previous policies involving local government, and well have to make use of the hero narrative we cultivated with those students that stopped Sorin. My plan is simple, first we will Chapter 56 - An Offer You Could Refuse -Over ten years ago- In the town of Hoxly which was just outside of the city of Vrox, a group of children were in a small wooded area playing. The four young boys were Alan, Kein, Cris and his brother Lance. They were all good friends with each other. They had picked up sticks off the ground and were pretending they were weapons, while also pretending to be famous and powerful archmages. They were play-fighting. Lance: Take that! Lightning bolt!! he shouted out while pretending to shoot out lightning from his hand. Cris: Agggh! he pretended to yell out in pain, acting as if he got hit by lightning and fell to the ground while doing so. Kein: NO! Cris! I will avenge you! he yelled while bringing up a stick to slowly swing down onto Lance. Lance raised his stick to block Richard''s wooden stick. As both sticks gently made contact with the other, both children made sound effects with their mouths. Acting like there was a massive amount of forces coming in contact with each other. Lance: YOU WILL NEVER STOP MEugh. he said, as he looked at another stick poking up from his side. A stick poked up under Lances arm. Alan had snuck up behind him with the wooden tree branch and placed it there, making a motion pretending to stab Lance. Cris'' brother fell to the ground, acting as if he had been stabbed through the chest with a large sword. Lance: Noooo. My plans, ruined. Blaggagh, he said while sticking his tongue out, acting as if he died. Kein: Thank you, Alan. With your help, weve stopped the evil nobles and their plans. Alan: We stopped them, but there are more evil nobles waiting for us archmages to let our guards down. We must defeat them for our friends. We must he was interrupted by Lance. Lance: OK, its my turn to be an Archmage, he said while getting off the ground. Cris: Actually, its getting pretty late. Lance: Cmon. You guys always make me play the evil noble or cultist. Kein: Tell ya what, next time Ill be the evil one and you can be an archmage. Lance: Yay! Alan: But let''s head home before it gets too late. Lance let out a deep sigh. Lance: OK All the boys there dropped their sticks and started to walk home. They didnt know exactly what time it was, but could see the sun in the sky was somewhere between halfway to sundown. They had gotten in trouble with their parents before for coming home when it was late. They didnt want a repeat of that and left a little earlier than they might have. They walked along a path of dirt that was packed tightly by countless other people walking along it. Eventually, they made it to an entryway that opened up to a residential area. As they walked along, Kein started up a conversation with his friends. Kein: Wouldnt it be cool if we were actually Archmages? Lance: Obviously. I would be such an awesome Archmage. Kein: We should all try to become one. Lance: My dad says its not that simple to become one. Cris: You gotta be crazy powerful, I hear. Alan: Yeah, It wouldn''t be possible for us. Kein: Hey, we gotta dream big! Cris: OK. Then lets make a promise, he stopped walking. Let all try to become archmages when we get older. If all four of us try, Im sure one of us can do it. Lance: Yeah! That sounds awesome! Kein: Cool beans! Alan: Thats from Adventures of Martyn. You''re just copying what Martyn said to the magi-force. he said, recognizing the line Cris said from a cartoon he watched. Cris: Dont ruin the mood. What Martyn said was cool in the show, and it is cool now. Kein: Um, now that Alan pointed that out, it kinda feels a little lame now. Cris: Cmon! Just fist bump me and make the promise. Its cool and will make our dreams come true. he said while sticking his fist out. Lance was the first to stick his fist out and touch Criss fist. Kein hesitated for a few seconds, feeling that this was a little lame now that he knew it was from a cartoon, but relented and bumped his fist with the two brothers. Alan just shook his head and absentmindedly bumped his fist along with his friends, knowing that Cris would annoy him if he didnt. Cris: Cool! We here promise that someday one of us will become an archmage no matter what! he yelled out in excitement. Alan: By the power of the fairy queen! he followed up. Cris: You didnt have to add that part! Alan: Thats what Martyn said in the show. Kein: This became so lame Alan and Lance both giggled as all the boys went to their respective homes for the night. Some time went by, and the young boys surprisingly never forgot their childish promise that day. Eventually, Hoxly would be attacked by the Endless War cult. And, two of the four boys would go missing after that attack, their fate unknown. ?????????????????? -Back in the current day- Alan along with Jafar and Sere were sitting in a waiting room outside Lazarus office. They were called here today to meet with the head of the Arcane Eye College, Lazarus Vaal himself. A little over a week had gone by since what happened in the library with Sorin. Alan had his broken ribs mostly healed with magic and already attended Cris'' funeral with friends and family. He spent most of the week grieving the death of his childhood friend and was still a little bit of an emotional wreck. On the surface, nothing looked wrong, but both Jafar and Sere could feel a deep sense of sadness coming from Alan. There were also big bags under his eyes, a sign that the Lionheart student was likely crying earlier before coming here. Both his friends did the best they could to be supportive. But, they felt so helpless. There was nothing they could say or do. Alan was the person always willing to help both Sere and Jafar with their own troubles and burdens. And, now that it was their turn to be that person for Alan, both felt like they were failing him. There were no magic words they could say or any action they could do, that would help with the pain of loss. Alan had to process that pain by himself, and it was not going well. Truthfully, Sere and Jafar didnt want their friend to be here. He was still hurting emotionally when Lazarus called for a meeting. They both wanted to give Alan as much time and space to work through the grief and were willing to go by themselves, but it was specified that all three of them were to come to this meeting. It was hard to deny a request like this from the most powerful Archmage on the continent, so Alan had forced himself to come. The door to Lazarus'' office suddenly swung open. Standing in the doorway was a woman in a mostly white uniform with an odd stripe of gold in its design. It was the clothing of an enforcer, the university''s private security and judiciary body. The woman herself stood six feet tall and had emerald eyes, which oddly matched her hair color. Her hair hung down to her waist and was tied together at the end with a metal band. The three students present knew who this person was, Alan a little bit more so. They were all first introduced to her when they first enrolled in the school. This was Mitra Mayumi, a combat trainer and one of the head enforcers here at the university. Mitra looked up and down each of the students here before his sights landed on Alan. Mitra: Hmm, you look like shit Alan. Alan: Yes, Ms Mayumi he said very formally, almost doing so as an automatic response. Mitra: We''re not in the training hall. You dont need to call me Ms. Alan: Yes, Ms Mayumi he said anyway. Mitra raised her one eyebrow a little. She looked like she was about to say something to Alan, but stopped, and went back to addressing the whole group with a deep sigh. Mitra: "Lazarus is ready to see you all. she said while gesturing to follow. Everyone sitting got up and followed behind the head enforcer inside. The inside of the archmages office was quite big, but it didnt feel like that. There was so much clutter all over the place. Bookshelves were packed full of tomes and various vases and containers. Plants were sitting about on tables and the floor, with some of them looking half dead. The main desk that Lazarus worked at was stacked high with paper and a few other miscellaneous objects. The three students looked around at the messy office. They couldnt see anyone else in the room besides themselves and Ms Mayumi. Sere: Um, I thought you said Sir Lazarus was ready to see us. Where is he? ???: Im here. a voice called out from somewhere, to answer Sere''s question. The students looked toward the desk near the center of the room with piles of paper. An arm suddenly stuck out between the pillars of paper and tried to push some of them to the side. As that happened, the papers fell off the edge of the table and onto the floor. The papers spilled onto the ground, adding to the mess of the space. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. With the papers partially out of the way, everyone could see a middle-aged-looking man sitting at the large desk. The man wore expensive-looking purple robes with gold trimmings and a pair of thick glasses. He looked like he was balding on the top of his head with what was left of his salt-and-pepper hair. This was Lazarus Vaal, headmaster of the most prestigious college the Arcane Eye, Archmage of fusion magic, the only known mage capable of atomic magic, and possibly the most powerful man on the continent. Lazarus: Ah, crud. Ill clean that up later. he said while looking at all the papers he spilled over. Anyways, please. Everyone takes a seat. The three students looked to see that there was only one chair to sit on, before turning their head back to the Archmage. Lazarus had a slightly awkward look as he realized there was only one chair. Lazarus: Ah, hold a sec, he said while waving his hands. Alan and his friends could feel a sudden fluctuation of aether coming from Lazarus. Suddenly, two more chairs dropped onto the ground from nowhere, landing beside the other one. The headmaster of the Arcane Eye collage gestured again for them to sit. The students did what they were told and each took a seat. Mitra walked up to Lazarus grabbed another stack of paper that was still partly obscuring the Archmage and put it on another nearby spot, before standing right beside him. The archmage looked at each student, gauging them before he spoke. Lazarus: I must thank you for all three of you coming here, he said warmly and with a smile. I know you three have been through a lot, and nothing I could say would make up for what happened to you. But, I want to humbly apologize to you three for what happened with Sorin, he said apologetically. Alan and friends had already heard this from several other teachers before. They have been inundated with apologies from countless people of the university faculty. But, it still felt surreal for someone as famous as Lazarus to be apologizing to them. Lazarus: As part of that apology, we will be waiving all fees for your education here for life. That includes room and board, as well as books. And, well extend this offer to any of your friends and family members you designate. Jafar: Really?! Thank you! he said, particularly excited. Tuition and books for Graheel University were not cheap. This would free up a lot of finances for all three students here, especially for Jafar. Sere and Alan got into the university with a grant, but Jafar had to pay completely out of pocket. So the Ember Gear student would be the one to benefit the most from this. Lazarus: It is the least we could do. Were supposed to provide you all with a safe place to learn, but failed to notice that a necromancer was in our midst. I should also be thanking you. It was you three who discovered what Sorin was doing and stopped him. Without you, who knows how many more victims there might have been, he said, praising them. Sere: Umyou''re welcome. Jafar: Yeah All three of them felt a little awkward because the truth was that they were not the ones to discover or stop Sorin. That was all Cids doing, but they couldnt tell anyone that. Cid would kill them if they did, so none of the three students had told teachers about the mysterious Shroom Pact student. Lazarus noticed the awkwardness. Lazarus: Im sorry if anything I said was insensitive to any of you. As I understand, your friend was a victim of Sorin as well. It was not my intention to make any of you uncomfortable. Alan: Its OK.. The archmage sighed. Lazarus: If you say so. Anyway, I have another offer for all three of you. I would like to enroll you all into the Arcane Eye collage. All three students gasp. Even Alan snapped out of his depressed state to be surprised. This was something none of them ever thought was why they were called here for. Arcane Eye was not something you could get into with favor. There were stories of that college rejecting the enrollment of a king''s son from another nation, despite the immense amount of pressure put on the university to admit him. Only people of skill and talent were ever admitted, and fewer still graduate fully from that college. Alan: Is it really OK for us to be enrolled in that college he said, feeling unsure if he really was worthy of getting into that college. Lazarus: If youre worried about any inadequacies you may be feeling, dont be. All three of you have acquired plenty of merits to be recognized. Discovering and stopping Sorin is an unbelievable feat in itself for first years, and a more than worthy accomplishment to allow all of you to attend Arcane Eye. Alan: Right he softly said, still feeling awkward about the fact it wasn''t them to stop Sorin. Lazarus: Hmm, only the devil gives everything, I guess. Sere: Huh? Lazarus: Its an old saying. Anyway, dont worry about it. What I''m trying to say is that I somewhat understand your apprehension. A lot has happened to you three, making you all a little hesitant to accept such an offer. But, I must make this clear. There are conditions for your admission. Sere: Some sort of test? Lazarus: Not really. Well, kinda. I want you three to join the enforcers as part of your admission. Alan: You want us to join the university police force? Lazarus: Correct. You three have demonstrated skills that would be helpful to the enforcers. Sere: Are we even allowed to join? We''re students. Lazarus: Of course youre allowed. There are students working as enforcers on campus across all the colleges as part of their education. It would be no different for the three of you, except you would be one of the few Arcane Eye students who are also enforcers. Jafar: Sir, can I be frank with you? Lazarus: Please speak your mind. Jafar: Why are you doing this? Why do you want us as enforcers? Ever since what happened with Sorin, Jafar had become more skeptical and weary of all the teachers at the university. Its not that he thought all the teachers were as evil as Sorin, but he never wanted to be put in another situation like that again. Mitra: It was my idea. All three students turned to the green-haired woman who had been quiet for a while now. Mitra: I thought you three punks wouldnt want to leave things unfinished. Jafar: What do you mean by that? Lazarus: Mitra! he yelled at Mitra for her comment. Mitra: What? Those three deserve to know the most. The older mage let out a long sigh in defeat at Mitra''s point and made a gesture for her to continue. Mitra: Sorin wasn''t doing that whole necromancy thing by himself. We discovered there were others involved. It was now the second time that Alan and his friends were shocked. During this whole ordeal, they had never considered there were more people involved in helping Sorin turn people into undead. Mitra: Remember Jixi? Sorins assistant. Were pretty sure he was helping Sorin turn people into undead. Hes currently missing and everyone is in the process of looking for him, and any others that were helping Sorin. Were making a special unit in the enforcer to properly investigate this as well, and I was thinking that you three might want to be part of this investigation. Alan: Why would you assume that? Mitra: Oh, I dont know. But, if I were you, I would make sure that every person that was involved in my friend''s death was properly punished, she said while looking at Alan. Sere: Alan she said while placing her hand on his shoulder. Alan: Andthis will get me into the Arcane Eye college? Lazarus: That''s correct. Alan: Then Ill do it, he said without any hesitation. Mitra: I figured. What about you two? Jafar: Um, I will as well. Sere: Can we get into the Arcane Eye collage without joining the enforcers? Mitra: Nope. Thats part of the condition. Sere: Then Ill have to reject your offer. Everyone, but Mitra, looked at Sere with surprise. Lazarus: May I ask why, curious to know why someone like Sere would reject such a generous offer. Sere: I simply dont want to be an officer. Lazarus: But, youre a Lockheart. Sere: Exactly. My family is known as a military and police people, but I dont want to become beholden to my familys reputation. That''s why Im trying to become a healer instead. Sere lived her whole life under the shadow of her family''s reputation. In her younger days, that reputation hurt her. It made it hard for her to make friends back then, as everyone was scared of her because of it. No matter what she did, Sere couldnt shake off the influence her family had on her. She didnt hate her family for this, but didnt appreciate the expectations others placed on her because of her family. It felt like everyone was trying to force her into something she didnt want to be. Sere had the qualities of an excellent military mage, but wanted to be a healer. She wanted to be someone like those healers she heard stories about in the Church of Light, and just couldnt accept the idea of being an enforcer. It would feel like she was accepting those unfair expectations of her if she agreed with Lazarus'' offer. Mitra just smiled at Sere''s response. Mitra: I cant say Im not disappointed. Lockhearts are worth ten mages, but I can respect a woman deciding their own path in life. In that case, she said ominously while looking at Alan and Jafar. Im going to whip these two into shape by training them ten times harder to make up for Sere not joining my enforcers. Alan: What?!? Jafar: Huh? Mitra: Come now. You two were beaten up pretty badly and barely survived that encounter with Sorin. If youre going to join this special unit Im making, Im gonna have to train you two up so that it doesn''t happen again. In any case, prepare to suffer I mean train, she said while chuckling maniacally. Lazarus just sigh again and face palmed as he heard what Mitra said with that almost menacing statement. The color from both Alan and Jafar drained. They both were starting to have immediate regrets. In the coming weeks, Alan and Jafar realized that Sere''s decision to reject joining the enforcers was beyond correct. She was saved from the hellish training that Alan and Jafar were about to receive. ?????????????????? Inside Lazarus'' office, the archmage continued to sit at his desk while Mitra looked out of the office window. She was watching the three students they just talked with walk off into the distance into another building. The head enforcer had a hardened look in her eyes. Mitra: Of the three of them, I wanted Sere to join the most. The report I read says she has excellent talent as a combat mage. Heh, might have been even greater talent than her brother, whos a genius. That family always seems to spit out exceptional combat mages every generation without fail. Lazarus: Nothing you can do about that. We cant force them. The best I could do was tempt them with admission into Arcane Eye, and she even refused that. he said while signing some forms at his desk. Mitra: Speaking of which, is that OK? Just letting them into your college like this. Lazarus: It should be OK. Whether they are part of my college or not, wont affect it, or the entire university''s reputation. If thats what youre worried about. There was an awkward silence that followed after what the archmage said. Neither of the mages looked at each other, but could tell that the other was in deep thought. While continuing to stare outside the window, Mitra Mayumi started inquiring about the archmage''s intention. Mitra: What are you planning? I assume this is some sort of political move I''m unaware of. Lazarus: Three reasons. Its a continued distraction from the media. Think about it. Weve already built them up as heroes and recognize their deeds publicly to the press. Those media people are obsessed with hero stories, and will latch on to those kids while taking heat away from us. Mitra: That will only work for so long and to a certain degree. Lazarus: Thats why we''re making that special investigating unit you suggested with the heroes that stopped Sorin. I imagine theyll write in the headline something like: Heros students seek out necromancers accomplice. Or, something like that. It should keep them going for quite a bit longer before they try and bring back the focus onto Sorin himself, who was a teacher here. Mitra: That still doesn''t fix our long-term problem. The government and nobles are banging at our doors for what happened. Lazarus: But, it does. These new units were making with the enforcers show us being proactive and taking this seriously. Once we can get some cooperation with the local government with these special units, the federal government and nobles will take notice. And, hopefully, be somewhat satisfied with what were doing. Mitra: So this whole thing is a farce. You were never interested in this unit Ive been trying to make for years. Lazarus: Please Mitra, Its not a farce. This whole plan hedges on you finding Jixi, or anyone that was connected with helping Sorins sick twisted experiment. If you cant turn up some results, it will just show as incompetent, and the government and nobles will continue to breathe down our necks. We need someone that we can direct their ire to. Mitra: Fine. Cant say Im pleased about how I was finally able to create these new enforcer units, but Ill take what I can get. So, you wanted something to distract the media and a demonstration of us trying to punish those involved with Sorin. What was the third reason? Lazarus: I want you to keep an eye on those three students, he said, referring to Alan and his friends. Mitra: What? The ones we just talked to? Why? Lazarus: Theres something they''re not saying. And, I want to know what and why. Mitra: What are you suspecting? Lazarus: I dont know. Its just a feeling I have that came up while talking to them. Like they''re hiding something for some reason. Although, I recognize that It could be nothing. Anyways, youre going to be supervising two of them anyway. So, just keep an eye out. Chapter 57 - Hell Training Outside somewhere on a university training grounds that doubled as a courtyard, Alan and his friends were gathered. All the male students were training while Mitra and Sere were watching from the side. Jafar: Huff, huff, huff. I-I-Im gonna die at this rate he said, exasperated and with sweat running down the side of his face. Alan: I-I can do thi gaah! he said as energy exploded in his face. A week had gone by since both Alan and Jafar agreed to be part of the enforcers and were admitted into the Arcane Eye College. As part of all that, the head enforcer Mitra was putting the two male students through intense training. Sere who was also present and watching, thought it looked more like torture than training to her. Jafar was wearing a harness attached to some weights that were dragging behind him as he ran around the field. The harness was enchanted in a way that if Jafar slowed down too much, it would shock him and cause pain. The ember gear student who had never learned any combat magic before, was going through a super fast crash course on it. Jafar was learning the basics of how to use enhancement magic. Part of Jafar''s training was teaching him how to use enhancement magic to improve his physical ability. The amount of weight he was dragging was not humanly possible for someone like Jafar. The only way he was able to move at all was to use his own aether to increase his strength. He just learned how to do this three hours ago by Mitra, and has been running nonstop since then. Sere felt that was too unreasonable, making someone who just learned enhancement magic a few hours ago use it nonstop. It was unlikely that Jafar had been applying that magic perfectly since then, which would generate discomfort to himself if he didnt. This type of magic can cause pain and muscle cramps if not applied correctly. He also wasn''t just using enhancement magic to improve his strength, but his speed as well. Jafar needed to do that, or the harness would shock him once he slowed his running. Making someone who just learned enhancement magic use two different types at the same time nonstop for hours straight was beyond unreasonable. If he didnt use the magic right he would suffer pain, and if he didnt use the magic at all he still would suffer pain. It was torture. Alan wasn''t fairing much better. The Lionheart student was already proficient in enhancement magic, so Mitra was teaching him a different advanced form of magic. She was trying to teach him how to use fusion magic. A technique that fuses up to two different types of elements to create a new type of pseudo-element for spell casting. This kind of magic had a lot of practical applications beyond combat magic. It also wasn''t particularly that physically demanding, but it was mentally. Fusing different elements together took a lot of concentration. You needed to gather the elemental powers within yourself and hold it there while forcing them to mix together in equal ratios. If you lose concentration or get the ratio of the elements wrong, you will lose control of the energies inside yourself and it will explode outwards. Alan was attuned to wind, vito, and fire elements. Of the three elements he could use, vito and wind were his strongest and he had the most control over them. He was currently trying to combine those two elements together to create lightning. He was attempting to form a small ball of lightning between his hands, but every time he gathered the elements within himself, he lost control. The energies would go wild within himself and Alan would rapidly release the energy outwards to avoid causing any serious damage to himself. Doing this, caused a mini explosion of wind and fire right in front of Alan. Sometimes very slightly burning him, or pushing him away. While not dangerous or life-threatening, the explosions still hurt. It particularly hurt when Alan got close to creating lightning. He was able to sometimes create lightning, but wasn''t able to hold or control it. So, when that happens he would create an explosion of electricity and zap himself. Alan was standing with his arms out, trying to gather energy to form a ball of lightning. Alan: One more time! I will get this he was cut off mid-sentence as failed again to control the energy and caused an explosion of electricity that shocked him. OW, OW, OWW, he yelled out in pain. Alan was knocked onto the ground. His hair was standing on ends while dozens of small arcs of electricity discharged into the ground from his body. Each small arc of electricity that jumped off him felt like a bee sting. Alan lay on the ground breathing heavily. He felt sore all over and had countless little singe marks all over his clothes from the countless failed attempts at creating or controlling lightning. Feeling completely mentally drained, he wanted to take a break, but Mitra wouldn''t let that happen. Mitra: Did I say you could stop? Do it again until you can create lightning without even thinking. Well worry about you controlling it later. Or, I can attach a harness with some extra heavy weights and you can start running with your friend while I shock you. Im sure that getting zapped with electricity will help you better understand how to create it, she said while looking down at Alan on the ground. Oh my god! Even if I can create lightning that effortlessly, it will still shock me if I cant control it. I forgot how much of a demon she was! Alan thought to himself. Mitra was someone everyone at the Lionheart College knew. They nicknamed her The Green-Haired Demon. She was the head of the enforcer at the university, but also a teacher here who would train the first-year Lionheart students. The training she made Alan and Jafar go through was even more hellish than what she did with the first years, and Alan remembered fellow first-year Lionheart students vomiting from that training. Alan was so mentally drained and was having such a hard time with this fusion magic, that he was honestly weighing in his mind if it would be better to go running with his friend. Alan turned his head towards his friends and could only just stare at Jafar with sympathy, as he went through the exact same training before, like all first-year Lionheart students. Except, Alan imagined it was probably worse for Jafar. He at least already knew how to use enchantment magic when going through that hellish training, Jafar didnt have that benefit and was not likely casting that magic correctly, causing an immense amount of pain. Sere, who was standing nearby, walked up to Mitra and started talking to her Sere: Um, Ms Mayumi. Dont you think it''s time that Alan and Jafar get a break? They have been working quite hard already, she said, trying to help her friends out. Mitra: Hmm, she mumbled while considering what Sere just said. Fine, well take a quick break. HEY! EMBER GEAR! You can stop running! she yelled out to Jafar. The second Jafar heard that, he stopped running and collapsed. He was absolutely exhausted and everything hurt. The second he was allowed to stop running, he took it. Suddenly, from the harness Jafar was wearing, arcs of electricity jumped from it to the orange-haired student. Jafar: AHHHH! he yelled out in pain as he was painfully zapped. Mitra: Whoops, forgot to turn off that enchantment, she said, before muttering an incantation that deactivated the enchantment in the harness, stopping it from continuously shocking Jafar. Hey, Alan. Go collect your friend, she ordered. Without question, Alan forced himself up and slowly walked while dragging his feet over towards Jafar, who was lying flat on the ground looking up at the sky. The orange-haired student breathing heavily from all the running he was doing, with a distant look in his eye as if he was disassociating. Jafar was quickly pulled out of the enchanted harness and slung over Alans shoulder before being carried over toward where both Mitra and Sere were. He then laid his friend down on the grass before taking a seat beside him to rest. Mitra looked down on the two tired boys and sighed while shaking her head like a disappointed parent. Mitra: You''re up, she said, directed at Sere. Sere: Huh? Mitra: Its why I asked you to be here. While I can use healing magic myself, Its better if someone specifically trained in that craft uses it. Also, it will serve as your training quota for the Silverwing college. Sere: Oh, you wanted me to use my healing magic. Im still learning though, and not that great at removing fatigue yet. Mitra: Well, nows as good as any time to practice that. Sere: But, if I dont use it right, it will cause a bunch of pain. Mitra: Ah, a little bit of pain builds character, so dont worry about it. By the time I''m done with them, any pain you could cause with your magic will feel like a massage to those two. Sere: Ohum ok she said, feeling unable to refuse Mitra. I thought those rumors were being hyperbolic when they said she was a demon. But, there might be some actual truth to that. Sere thought to herself as she walked over to Jafar, attempting to carefully remove his fatigue without causing any more discomfort to her friend. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Sere placed her hands on Jafars shoulders and mumbled an incantation. A yellow light emitted from her palm as she began using healing magic. Jafar immediately felt a warm and soothing energy flow through him, slowly dulling the pain in his muscles. There was an occasional sharp pulse of pain from Seres inexperience at healing fatigue, but overall Jafar was very slowly starting to feel better. As Sere was healing Jafar, she turned her head and started conversing with Alan. Sere: Ah, Im sorry Alan. I dont think I can heal fatigue caused by mental exertion with my magic. Alan: That''s OK. Sere: If you want, I can show you how I use fusion magic. It might help you understand it better, she said, offering to help. Mitra: Dont bother. Fusion magic works completely differently for everyone depending on what element you''re attempting to fuse. So, any advice would be pointless. Hes going to have to learn through trial and error. Sere: But, wouldnt it be good if he at least understood the basics. Mitra: They already do. I explained everything earlier before you showed up. But, I suppose going over everything again and drilling it into their heads would still be good. So, listen up you two. We are going to go over the basics of basics. Now tell me Jafar, what is the fundamental of spellcasting. Jafar: Um, gathering aether and elements together to weave into a spell, he said, while still lying on the ground and being healed by Sere. Mitra: Youre getting ahead of yourself. It''s just aether. You dont need any elements to cast eighty percent of spells. Take this spell for example, she said while holding up her hand. Suddenly a white glowing ball of energy appalled just above the palm of her hand. It floated there with a dim light. Mitra: This is the most basic combat spell all combat mages first learn. Its an aether bolt. As you can see, there is no element in this spell at all, but it is still perfectly functional. Mitra then flicked her wrist and sent the ball of energy flying. It flew toward some targets in the training area, hitting them with a loud slapping sound while leaving a small indent. She then held out her hand again and formed another ball. However, this time it wasn''t a ball of energy. What formed just above her palm looked like a perfectly spherical floating rock. Mitra: Now as you can see, Im using the exact same spell, but this time I have added some earth element into the mix. Giving the spell a bunch of properties that you would associate with earth. Making it solid and hard. We pretty much train all mages to use elements in their spellcrafting, but can you tell me why. Alan: It makes the spell more powerful. Mitra: Correct. To demonstrate her point, Mitra flicked her wrist again and sent the earth-infused aether bolt at the same target she hit before. Unlike last time, the attack went right through the target leaving a gaping hole in it. Mitra: Now can you tell me the other reason we use elements in our spells? Jafar and Alan looked at each other hoping the other knew the exact answer. They didnt know what other reason there was. They were both taught that elements make spells more powerful and efficient. Neither could recall learning about another reason to use elements in their spellcrafting. Both of them shook their heads, indicating they didnt know. Mitra: Hmm. Even though I already gave you two a hint, you cant figure it out, she said, followed by a disappointed sigh. It adds properties to your spells. Like with that aether bolt. The earth element made the spell hard and solid. Alan & Jafar: Ohhhh, they both said as they remembered an obvious fact about using elements in casting spells. Mitra: These properties are just often thought of as a byproduct of increasing your spell power, but can also serve as a feature. Each element has its uses and drawbacks when used to cast certain spells. Fire can increase the power of your spells the most of any other element, but does not sustain those spells for very long. Earth can increase hardness in spells, but make them also heavier. Wind makes spells quicker, but lacks power. Water is the most adaptable, but can make spells hard to direct. Necros is more deadly and debilitating, making it not very good for supportive magic. Vitos can add a lot of restorative properties to spells, but make your spells less harmful too in situations you may not want. There are many more properties to each element that I''m not going to go through. Otherwise, well be here all day. Did that make sense to you two?" Alan nodded. Jafar: Um, yeah. Weve already learned about a lot of that stuff. Mitra: Clearly you have more to learn. Jafar: Huh? Mitra: Jafar, youre running around using enhancement magic with earth as the element of choice. Yes, that works, but it also makes you heavier. So with the increase in weight, It also makes it harder for you to run. You actually have to use four times the amount of enhancement magic to be able to run at a decent pace with earth. It is very inefficient when lots of movement is required, and earth is also the least forgiving and most rigid. Its why the enhancement magic has been hurting you so much. It hurts me so much because youve made me use enhancement magic nonstop for hours. Jafar thought to himself. Mitra: You have an affinity to water, earth, and necros. Of those three, you should be using water. It''s the most forgiving and less likely to cause muscle spasms like earth if you dont apply the enhancement magic correctly. I was hoping you would figure this out yourself by now, but it doesn''t look like you will anytime soon. So, I''m saving you some pain by telling you this. Jafar: Geez thanks he said sarcastically, not really grateful for the tortuous training he was put through and a bit annoyed she didnt tell him this earlier. Mitra didnt seem to notice the sarcasm in Jafars voice. Or, she possibly did but didnt care. She was a hard woman to read. Maintaining a constant stoic expression in almost every situation, making it difficult to impossible for anyone to tell what she was thinking. The green-haired woman then turned towards Alan with that same unchanged expression. Mitra: As for advice for you. Sadly, there is none. When it comes to fusion magic, its just practice. Theres no way around it. she explained, directed at Alan. Alan: Is there really nothing that could help me? I really want to stop zapping myself. Mitra: Look. When people learn to use magic for the first time, they''re often taught to focus on using the element they''re most comfortable with. Its effective if you just want to teach someone the basics of magic, but it ends up making people lack the proficiency of the other elements. Since they dont bother to try to use any other elements theyre attuned to. The best analogy I can use to explain this is writing with your left hand when you''re right-handed. Most people can do it, but they''re not very good at it. Using the nondominant hand to write would be slower and the writing would look more messy. Its the same when using elements. When youre trying to use elements you''re not used to, it can be messy and hard to control. And for fusion magic, you need accurate control. The instability of your lightning magic is coming from the fact you lack adequate control over Vito. Jafar: In that case, shouldnt Alan just be practicing using just the Vito element? Alan: What do you mean Jafar? Jafar: Well, with how fusion magic is described, it sounds like you need perfect proficiency in two elements to properly fuse their properties together. And if Alan is lacking proficiency in Vito, it would make sense to just practice with that element first. Mitra: Yeah, you''re partly right. You dont need perfect control. You just need a decent amount. Heh, if Alan could achieve perfect control while fusing Vito and Wind, he might be able to use plasma magic. Which is a much higher tier of lightning magic. But, yeah. You would normally train using just the element you''re not as good with before trying to learn fusion magic. Sere: Wait, what?! You didnt train Alan to use Vito first before trying to get him to fuse wind with it, she said surprised. Sere was already capable of using two types of fusion magic and knew everything Mitra had just explained. So she was surprised that Mitra was skipping a crucial step in learning fusion magic. Mitra: We''re on a tight schedule. In another week were going to be forming a new unit of enforcers that were calling the Sleuth-Hawks. So Im cutting some corners. I need both of these sprouts to be battle-ready as soon as possible before that, she said, referring to Alan and Jafar as sprouts. Sere: Are you expecting them to fight? I mean, Alan might be fine, but Jafar she said worried about the safety of her friends. Mitra: No. Im not expecting these two to have to fling spells at black mages or anything. But, you never know. Its better that these two are prepared for that scenario. We are still investigating some pretty shady people, afterall. Sere: Who are you looking into, besides Jixi? Mitra: Why dont you join the Sleuth-Hawks and Ill tell you. Sere: Not happening. she said, maintaining her convection to stay away from anything related to law enforcement. Mitra just smiled at Seres response before turning back to both Alan and Jafar who were still laying on the ground. Mitra: Rest up for another ten minutes. Then its back to whipping you two into shape. By the end of the week, Jafar should be able to use enhancement magic and basic attack spells. And hopefully, Alan will at least be able to consistently produce lightning, She said with a devilish smile. Both the boys there groaned with dread. ?????????????????? Overlooking the training field, watching Alan and Jafar train, was Cid. He was standing in a nearby building watching the entire training session from a window. Cid: I dont get it. Why doesn''t it work on them? Cid had been experimenting with the book of grand design. Trying to better understand how this power John gave him works. He was trying to calculate where Alan and his friends would be in the future. He wasn''t doing anything particularly overt with the book, or taking any specific action against Alan and his friends. He was just trying to calculate where they would be in the future and then observing it from a distance without being noticed. Alan and his friends had ruined Cid''s calculation three times now. Each time the chance of that happening was less than 0.1%. The fact his calculation was thrown off three times in a row is a statistical impossibility. Making them a subject of study for Cid, to understand how that was possible. As they were the only consistent factor to explain what could have happened. His current calculation told him that Alan, Jafar, and Sere should just be arriving at this very moment to start training. But when Cid showed up, they had already been clearly training for some time before he arrived. The timing of the calculation was way off. Then there was the fact Mitra was here. Cid calculation didnt mention she would be here today. So far his calculation, while not completely inaccurate as he was right about them being here today, still left too many factors unaccounted for. Which was a problem. Through chaos theory, he could set off a chain of events to produce just about any possible outcome Cid wanted. But, that only works if he knows exactly where and when something is going to be in the future. The unaccounted additional person and the time when the people arrived were enough to throw everything off. It made manipulating cause and effect impossible for Cid, at least when Alan and his friends were nearby. It was a similar problem when he was setting up his trap in the library with Sorin. He would find random objects not part of his calculation laying about. With some of them clearly connected to the three he was observing. Those objects just being there at the time was enough to throw his calculation off if he didnt notice and adjust for it. There was just something about Alan and his group that the book of grand design was unable to calculate. A factor that Cid was missing. Cid: Hmm, maybe Im lacking information. However, there was also that other student I couldnt calculate as well. I wonder if he and those three are all connected somehow. Ill have to run some more experiments on other people to try and figure this out. I wonder if John could give me some sort of hint? Chapter 58 - New Investigation The Celestial Elements was a term coined by ancient scholar Eial Trastish. He posits that the Vitos and Necros operate on a higher function than the other elements. Most researchers agree that there may be some truth to that theory. These two elements are incredibly esoteric in how they function in our world and have been the center of debate since they were first identified. The core of that debate stems from the complex nature of life and death. The aspects of life and death seem to be closely tied to these two elements, presenting interesting theoretical queries. Does the source of life and death stem from these elements, or are they merely manifestations of that part of reality? Due to the nature of these two elements, they have never been directly observed. Researchers have theorized that vitos manifest in our world at the exact moment life is created, and the same is true with necros that manifest upon the moment of death, which makes it impossible to properly observe. It is not agreed on when life begins, or even when it ends. Does life begin at birth, or in the womb, or before that still? What about death, does the moment of death begin when a major organ stops functioning, what about your other organs that still function for some time after your heart stops beating. Not knowing when life begins or ends makes proper observation improbable and leads to deeper philosophical debates. Combine those questions with the fact that these elements probably can not be detected by the human eye, one could raise doubt that these elements even exist. However, we do know for a fact that these two elements are real. Mages attuned to these elements can feel them and channel them into their magic, so there is no doubt about whether or not vitos and necros exist. The real question about vitos and necros, is do they manifest naturally in our world like the primal elements, and if so, how? It could be that these elements dont naturally exist and are purely a product of mages. These are questions about the celestial elements that rage on even today. The Elements and You by Sam Rork Joe was currently at the police headquarters sitting at his desk going through documentation for the university. It had been days since they talked with Cory and they hadnt heard anything from him yet. Joe was preparing for the scenario that Cory didnt have any useful information. They would then still have to talk with the university in that worst-case scenario. However, even with Joe working on the documentation, they were still nowhere close to being done. Every time Joe managed to get a stack of paper signed and ready, it felt like another stack of paper materialized out of nowhere. Then there was the fact that some of the forms he sent into the university were rejected. Joe and his team had made an error somewhere on the papers and the university sent them back to him. Joe: Ugh, this is so annoying. They didnt tell us what we did wrong. They just sent it back to us and said there was an error, he mumbled in frustration. Joe had gone through the documentation the university sent back to him three times now. And, every time he couldnt figure out what was wrong. It was frustrating and was taking too long. He didnt have much time before Chief Murdock got fed up with him and forced a bunch more work onto his unit. Once that happens, Joe wont have as much time to work on the Rob case. While looking down at the forms, a pink heart-shaped chocolate box was brought into Joes sight and placed on the papers he was looking at. The senior investigator then looked up to see Dan standing beside his desk putting the box in front of him. Dan: Mike told me you like chocolate. Joe looked at the heart-shaped box awkwardly, then stared back at the junior officer. Joe: Ummmm, sorry there. Im not into guys. Im also technically your boss, so it would be unethical for me to accept this. Dan: What? Joe: Aren''t you asking me out? Dan: No. Why would you assume that? he said, confused. Joe looked at Dan confused for a second before it clicked what was going on. Joe: OH! Youre from the north right. Way out in the boonies? Dan: I guess? Joe: So, you wouldnt know. People here in the south give others heart-shaped gifts when they are trying to ask someone out on a date. Dan: Ask out on a date! Dan''s face suddenly turned red in embarrassment when he realized what it meant by giving Joe that heart-shaped box of chocolate. Dan: N-no! S-s-sorry! I-I-I wasn''t he was cut by Joe. Joe: Dont worry, it''s an honest mistake. But, Im surprised they didnt try to warn you at the store when you bought this. Dan: I didnt buy it. It was my neighbor. She gave it to me. But, Im not a big fan of chocolate. So I thought Id give it to someone else that was." Joe: Ohhhh, he said with a cocky smile. Already getting hit on by the ladies I see. Dan: I-I guess that''s what it means. Um, was I supposed to reject it if I wasn''t interested. he said, worried that he accidentally entered into a relationship. Joe crossed his arm and leaned back into his chair. He was about to take a short break from the paperwork and be a proper mentor to his junior for once. Joe: Nah. Rejecting a gift is always rude. But if youre going to reject her, dont be a dick about it. At least take her out for a meal before you tell her youre not interested. Dan: Wouldnt taking her out for a meal be a confirmation that I want to date her? Joe: No. Why? Is it like that in the north? Dan: Yeah. Where Im from, you usually take a person out for a meal if you''re trying to court them. Joe: Really? Sounds like a pain. Like, what if you just want to go out for a meal with friends. Dan: Going out to a restaurant involved commuting into a city. So it was usually special. Joe: Oh, OK. So its not so much a northern thing, as much as a small town country thing. Dan: Yeah, I guess. Joe: But really? Where you lived didnt even have a bar or something where you could go eat? Dan: It was a really small village. Joe sighed. Joe: If you say so. By the way, take these to Mike for me, he said, handing Dan a stack of papers. Tell him Ive gone through them three times now and cant figure out whats wrong with them. So, I want him to cross reference form Z-78-Y with these to see if he can figure it out." Dan''s expression turned to dread as he heard that. He knew they didnt have form Z-78-Y on hand. Which meant that he would have to go back into that jungle of paper to try and find it. He was praying that Mike wouldnt ask him to go search for it, but wasn''t confident he wouldn''t. Dan: Got it, Joe, he said with a nod and groan. Joe watched Dan walk off into another room with the papers that he gave. Once his junior was out of sight, he turned back to his desk and started working on more forms from the university. The senior investigator heard chatter coming from behind somewhere, likely some other officer in the office talking about something. He didnt pay them any mind, but then his eyes wandered to the corner of his desk. Sitting there was the pink heart-shaped box that Dan tried to give him. Ah, shit. People are gonna get the wrong idea if I leave that out. Joe thought to himself. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Joe picked up the box and was about to dump it into the garbage bin by his desk, but then stopped. He then opened the box to reveal rows of neatly placed chocolate truffles that were individually wrapped. He then opened a drawer by his desk and dumped the chocolates into it before throwing away the pink box. Never thought in my life I would meet someone that didnt like chocolate. Joe quietly thought to himself. Mike telling Dan that Joe liked chocolate was an understatement. Joe was a real chocolate fiend. Even as awkward as the source of the chocolate was, he couldnt bring himself to throw them away. The senior investigator fully intended to enjoy those sweet treats for himself later. Joe went back to work for about another ten minutes before a brown file full of documents was slapped onto his desk. He then looked up to see the person who placed the file in front of him. Standing there, was a balding silver-haired thickset man of six foot three in height (1.9 meters). He wore a black police uniform that denoted a high rank within the force. He had a scowl on his face and looked extremely annoyed. This man was Murdock, the head of police, who had come himself to deliver a document to Joe himself. Murdock: Whatever youre doing, you can stop and start working on this project. Joe: With all due respect sir he said, before immediately being cut off by Murdock. Murdock: Dont fuck with me Joe! he said sternly. Youre not weaseling out of this. And dont think you blow off this case I''m handing you. If your unit is not at the designated meeting on those papers, or you''re not actively working on this case, youre done. No second chances. Youll be out of a job if you mess this up. Joe looked shocked. He didnt expect Murdock to come out of the gate already mad at him, and with such serious threats. The investigator didnt recall doing anything recently to piss off Murdock, so he wondered why he was so mad. He then thought that maybe Murdock wasn''t entirely mad at him, but something else. Joe: Whats got you so wound up? What are you making us work on? Murdock: Its not just you. Lewiss team and two other investigation units are also working on this as well. So you better get along with each other. If you want to know what this is about, read the file I gave you. And Joe, you seriously cant fuck this up. This is not just a big thing for you, but the entire police force here in Graheel as well. So let me repeat myself. DONT FUCK THIS UP, he said, emphasizing his last few words before walking away. Joe had a dumbfounded look on himself. This had never happened with Murdock and him before. Usually, there was a bit of a back-forth between him and Murdock before he ever got mad at Joe. The senior investigator then looked at the folder sitting on his desk and wondered what was exactly given to him. Whats so important that multiple investigation units have to work on this? He wondered to himself, as he opened up the folder to see what the investigation was about. Once Joe opened the folder and saw the cover of the documents, he closed the folder, slamming it in the process. He then leaned back into his chair wide-eyed and groaned with absolute anguish. Joe hadn''t even read the document, but he saw on the cover the symbol of the Graheel University. He didnt need to read anymore and knew it was going to be an absolute pain. The university seldom asks the police for help with anything, and when they do, it is tedious. They''re uncooperative and make work for people like Joe impossible. He recalled one time when he was still a new officer, the university asked the police to look into a missing person. Under such a circumstance, it would make sense to talk to the people who knew the person. But, the people that knew the missing person were students, and the university wouldnt allow the police to talk to them no matter how much they pushed to do so. He heard that the investigators at the time were forced to fill out papers to be allowed to talk to the students. They spent all week with those papers only for the missing persons to be found later, escaping from their kidnappers themselves. The Graheel police were then admonished for not doing anything to help find this person, despite the fact they were. The university was holding everything up and prevented them from doing their job. Joe could imagine that Murdock''s current frustration was because of a request from the university. With how important he was told this was, he imagined it was a request from one of the heads at the university. Maybe, even from the famous Archmage Lazerus Vaal himself. If that was the case, there was no way around it. Joe would have to put his investigation of Rob slightly on hold, or at least significantly reduce the amount of time hes been putting into it. If Joe did something to embarrass Murdock to the archmage of the Arcane Eye Collage, he probably actually would be fired. Joe took a deep breath and readied himself. Preparing to read about some unreasonable demands from the university. He slowly opened up the folder and started reading through the documentation. The senior investigator had a hardened look on his face for fifteen minutes of reading before his expression changed. His face shifted from confusion then shock, and finally a realization of something. Joe: A-a-a huh? Mike! Dan! Stop what you''re doing! he yelled out to his team. Joe looked around and saw that no one in his unit was around to be seen. He then got up and ran off to look for them. ?????????????????? Inside Bennys Diner, Joe and his team were sitting around a table in the corner. They were on their lunch break and decided to come here for brunch. This time they all got a regular order. No extravagant meal like the first time they took Dan here. Joe was sipping some tea while Dan was biting into a piece of toast with some jam on it. Mike just finished swallowing a sausage before speaking. Mike: So let me get this straight. The university is creating a new special joint unit between the enforcer and the police force. And, our unit was volunteered for this new project, he said while pointing a fork at Joe. Joe had explained the situation to Dan and Mike on the way to Bennys. It was exactly as Mike said. From the document that Murdock gave to Joe, explained that a new unit was being formed between the university and the police. And, Joes team was being made to participate in it. Joe: Yup. It is some sort of special unit there calling the Sleuth-Hawks. We''ll be working together with the enforcer on something, he said as he shoved some egg into his mouth. Mike: Did they say what we would be exactly working on? Joe: No. Theres a meeting tomorrow were supposed to attend thats supposed to explain what this joint unit will exactly be doing. But from what Ive read, it seems this unit will be focusing on more cases of an arcane nature, or the university themselves. If I had to guess, it probably has something to do with that whole necromancy thing that recently happened with one of their professors." Dan: So whats going to happen with our unit? Joe: Nothing. Our unit wont be disbanded or anything like that. We will still have the same responsibility as before, plus whatever were supposed to do with the Sleuth-Hawks. Mike: So, this just sounds like more work. No wonder Murdock dumped this onto us. He didnt want to burden the other units that are doing actual work. Joe: We are doing actual work. Mike: Eight years. Weve been working on the Rob case for eight years and have nothing to show for it. And then Rob randomly shows up without our involvement, only to die. Yeah, I wouldnt say what were doing is actual work. If it wasn''t for the other investigations we worked on while working on the Rob case, this unit would have been dissolved years ago. Everything Mike said was irrefutable. And, Joe couldn''t rebuke it. Mike had been very pessimistic lately and had been tearing down Joe at every opportunity he could, likely caused by the added stress from all the additional paperwork from the university. Joe could only slightly groan at Mikes comment. Joe: Whatever, I dont want to argue about that. The main point is theres a massive opportunity for us with this new unit. Dan: Um, no offense Joe, but I''m not following. Joe: Let me explain. Part of this new unit operation streamlines communication between us and the university. Well be expected to freely share resources and information, but that will be the same for them. In that case, we might be able to circumvent the normal lines of making requests to the university. At the mention of that, both Mikes and Dans lighted up with excitement. If what Joe was saying was true, it meant that they wouldnt have to work on all those university forms anymore. They could just make a request through the Sleuth-Hawks. Mike then put his hands together and made gestures similar to those in the Church of Light when they prayed. Mike: Thank you divine light for answering my call in my time of need, he said with sincere gratitude to a higher power at the news that his paperwork nightmare may finally be over. Dan: I-I-its over he said with tears forming in his eyes. Jenny: Hey, do any of you want more tea? Um, is everything OK? said with concern. The cat mutant women server had come over to offer more tea as Joe was explaining their situation. She didnt hear what was said, but saw that the two officers looked like they were about to cry. Making Jenny confused about what was going on. Joe: Ill take a refill, and yes, everything is fine. I was just telling them some good news, he said, handing her his cup. Jenny: Oh, OK, she said as she took Joes cup to go refill it. Joe just watched as Jenny walked off before turning back to his team. Joe: Now before getting too excited, its not likely we can make any formal request through the Sleuth-Hawks right away. It is also not guaranteed that they will accept our request for information even if we can skip the normal process. Mike: Ill still take this over what weve been doing. Dan: I agree. Joe: My point is, we should focus on doing a good job with the Sleuth-Hawks. If we can get some results through this special unit, they are less likely to reject our request. It will also have the added bonus of making Murdock happy. If the heads of the university are satisfied with this new unit, it will reflect well on our police force and Murdock." Mike: Hmm, that''s easy to say when we dont even know what were doing though. Joe: Well, that meeting tomorrow should explain everything. Then, well know where to go from there. Anyways, I want Dan to go by himself in our stead for that meeting. Dan: What!! Why me? And, why are neither of you coming? Joe: I was already planning to pursue that lead with the Keeper of Secrets we got from Cory. And, I want Mike for backup just in case." Dan: Do you have to do it tomorrow? This meeting seems kind of important for you to be missing. And, do you really believe in that info about the Keeper of Secrets. Seemed kinda iffy to me. Joe: Leave no stone unturned, he said in response to Dans doubt about Cory''s information. Dont worry. In this meeting, they should be just explaining the purpose of this new unit. You probably wont have to do anything other than relay the information they tell you to me and Mike. And, yes it has to be tomorrow. Once this thing with the Sleuth-Hawks goes into full swing, we likely wont be able to find the time to look into this. Dan: Ah, um. But what about Mikes opinion? Joe: Um, I''m the leader of this unit. So, whatever I say takes priority, he said, wondering why Dan was trying to get Mikes opinion on this. Mike: Youll be fine Dan, he said while ignoring Joe''s comment. As Joe said, theres not likely to be any major decision that needs to be made at the first meeting. And if there is, I trust you. You have good instincts. Dan: I-I dont know he mumbled, unsure about the plan. Joe: It''s settled. Me and Mike will check out this guy Cory talked about, while you go to that meeting for the Sleuth-Hawks. Chapter 59 - Sleuth-Hawks Within one of the lecture halls was a gathering of people. Half the people in the room were wearing a blue police uniform, and the other half were wearing the uniform of the enforcers. Each enforcer''s clothing was mostly white with a different coloration on the accent of the uniform, to indicate which college they were from. Half the enforcers here were students. The lecture hall they were in was large and grand with rows of desks for students to sit at. At the front of the room was a large desk for a teacher to sit at with a large arcane projection screen behind it. To the side were shelves of books on various subjects related to magic. Originally meant for students, the hall was being used for a meeting today. Some people were already sitting at the table, waiting patiently for the meeting to begin. Others were walking around making idle chatter. Off to the side was Alan. He was wearing the white uniform of the enforcer with a purple accent, indicating that he was now part of the Arcane Eye College. The former Lionheart student looked around at the people gathered here and felt somewhat out of place. What am I even doing here? he wondered to himself. There wasn''t really anything that he could specifically point to that was making him feel awkward about being here. But, the series of insane events that led up to this moment just felt surreal. From the strange murders, Sorin''s true nature being revealed, to the training he did with Mitra. As he thought about training with Mitra, he shuddered. Between the two of them, only Jafar had completed his training. His friend could now use basic combat magic. Alan''s ability had improved in using fusion magic, however, it was still far from being useful. Mitra told him that they would continue the training while he wasn''t actively working for the Sleuth-Hawks, and he dreaded that. As Alan was thinking about Mitra''s brutal training, Jafar approached his side. Jafar: Feels quite weird, doesn''t it. Alan looked down to see Jafar wearing a similar uniform to his own. Alan: Yeah. A lot has happened. Jafar: Still cant believe we''re in the Arcane Eye College now. It was literally yesterday that both Alan and Jafar were inducted into the Arcane Eye College. A dream that neither ever really thought they would accomplish. Friends and family were so happy to hear that they had gotten into such a famous college, even if the circumstances of how they got in were less than ideal. While this wasn''t exactly how Alan wanted to get into this college, he was still going to take this chance. People who graduate from Arcane Eye usually go on to become archmages. It was the best opportunity for him to one day become an archmage himself. All to keep his promise to his friends from Hoxly and Cris. Alan: Now comes the hard part of graduating from this college. Jafar: Successfully graduating from this college is even more difficult than getting into, you know. Alan: I know. But if we do well in the Sleuth-Hawks, it will help. Were getting a ton of credits by being part of this program. Jafar: I guess. Both students just stood there watching everyone talking to themselves, too shy to go converse with anybody themselves. It looked like Alan and Jafar would stand there not talking to anybody else, but someone suddenly came up to them. The person to come up to them presented as male and was the only other Arcane Eye student who was in the room with them. He had a dark complexion with short black curly hair in the style of a taper fade and was just an inch shorter than Alan. The student seemed to carry himself with an air of importance, whether he intended to give that impression or not. Arcane Eye Student: Excuse me. Are you two perhaps Alan and Jafar? Alan: Yeah. Im Alan and this Jafar," he said while gesturing to his friend. A pleasure to meet you, he responded, trying to be friendly to someone that was likely both his and Jafar''s senior. Arcane Eye Student: No, the pleasure is mine. I wanted to meet the heroes who avenged my brother, he said with a warm smile. Alan: Oh, he responded with surprise. Um, if you dont mind me asking, who was your brother? Alan wasn''t expecting to run into anyone who had family affected by the Sorin conspiracy today. After that event, he and his friends were inundated by praise and thanks from the families of the victims for stopping the Grayscale professor. Of course, they always felt awkward about it and tried to avoid such praise, since it wasn''t entirely them that stopped Sorin. Johannes: Oh dear, sorry. I should introduce myself. Im Johannes Scefer. Edward Scefer was my little brother. Alan: Wait, you''re Edwards brother? he said, surprised. Alan examined Johannes again. He recalled Edward, the one Alan saved from a falling statue, was blond-haired and green-eyed with a light complexion. Not even Edwards facial features were similar to his brother''s. They looked nothing alike, so it was surprising to hear they were related. Johannes: Yes. Um, before you ask, Edward was adopted, he said, already able to tell what Alan was thinking. Alan: Ohhh. Jafar: Im sorry if this is rude. Since I havent interacted with the upper class much. But, was Edward a refiner? he asked, as he realized something. Alan: Huh? Whats a refiner? Johnannes sighed. Johannes: That is actually rude to ask. So, keep that in mind for the future for other people. Butyes. Its as you say. Alan: Can someone tell me what a refiner is? Jafar: Alan, a refiner is someone that has strong magical abilities that are adopted into a family for their abilities. They are raised and then married off to someone within the same family they are adopted into. Mostly it is nobles that do it to keep their family magic from diminishing. They call that process refining the blood. Thus, refiner, he explained to Alan. Hearing that, Alan felt a disgust that he hid from Johannes. If what Alan just heard was correct, it sounded to him that nobles were marrying their adopted siblings. The idea of it was revolting to Alan. Marrying a sibling, even an adopted one, seemed wrong to the former Lionheart student. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Johannes: Yes. Its a practice that was adopted to try and correct the old practice of inbreeding to preserve magical power. Even though the Scefer have mostly avoided those kinds of problems, we are still forced to participate in this archaic practice. Edward was to be married into the Volti family, an allied family who requested a refiner candidate from us. But, please dont misunderstand. Even though Edward was a refiner and adopted, he was still my brother. I loved him dearly. And, I was so devastated when he died, and further devastated when I learned what Sorin did to him. Alan: Im sorry for your loss. Johannes: I could say the same to you. You have also lost someone important. Alan: Yeah he said as he thought about Cris. Johannes: I guess that''s why were both here. For retribution to those who still remain that hurt the people we love. Jafar: I take it you mean Jixi. Johannes: Correct. While I cant get my full revenge, since youve already dealt with Sorin, I can still punish everyone who assisted in twisting my brother into a cruel mockery of his former self. As I understand, people have been telling me my brother was a bit of an asshole before he died. I hate that it might be the way many remember him. Alan: He wasn''t always like that? Um, sorry. Our first interaction wasn''t very pleasant. Johannes: Its OK. No, he was always reserved, but never cruel or mean. He certainly didnt act snobbish. But his personality seemed to suddenly change when he started attending the University. Our parents thought it was maybe a bad influence and urged me to try and correct Edward''s behavior while I was here. But, we now know it was likely Sorin tampering that changed my dear brothers personality. Alan: I wish I could have known the real Edward. he said, trying to be polite. Johannes: I do too. I think you two would have gotten along. Alan didnt think he and Edward would have gotten along. He still had a sore spot for most nobles, due to them being the reason for the civil war in Gix and destroying his home. He didnt think very highly of them and spent most of his life trying to avoid them when possible. Suddenly, the door to the room swung open and the chatter in the area died down. Walking into the room was Mitra with a bunch of other senior enforcers. Seeing that Mitra had arrived, many in the room started to take a seat, expecting the meeting to start soon. Seeing this, Alan and Jafar followed and also took a seat. The total number of enforcers that walked in was seven. Each head enforcer represents a different college, indicated by the coloration of the accent of their clothing. All the recent arrivals stood behind Mithra, suggesting that she was leading the group. Mitra looked around at the people who gathered. She noted that it seemed all the police officers were sitting on one side of the room, and the enforcers on the other. A clear separation and something she would have to correct for this project she was leading to be successful. Mitra: I see that everyone is here. So let me explain wha Mitra was cut off mid-sentence as the door to the lecture hall swung open and another person rushed inside. The person was a man wearing a trench coat and was sweaty, likely from running. He looked to be one of the younger police officers. All the police officers here recognize this person as Dan, from Joes unit. Dan: Huff, huff. Sorry Im late. There was something important I had to do. I didnt miss anything? he said, breathing heavily. Mitra: No, we''re just starting. Take a seat, she said with a raised eyebrow Dan swallowed his saliva and nodded. He then walked over to the nearest desk and sat down, inadvertently breaking the separation of police and enforcers in the room. As Dan sat right beside Alan. Dan just smiled at Alan and then turned back to Mitra. The young officer then pulled out a small booklet, intending to take some notes. Alan looked at the young officer and felt that he was a little different. He didnt feel as imposing as the other officers and his clothing was different. He was the only cop here wearing a trench coat. Mitra: OK. Now thats out of the way. Let me explain everything to you. This whole project was put forward by me. I want both the police and the enforcers to be working together on various types of investigations. My enforcers here lack real-world experience and I think it would be helpful if they did by working with the police. And, the police will get the full assistance of the university and additional manpower. It should be a win-win for both sides. Officer: Excuse me. Can I ask a question? Or are we saving questions for later? he said, with his hand raised. Dan looked to see that the officer that spoke out was Lewiss. He had brown hair and wore a pair of black pants with a white shirt and a protective police vest over top. The man was head of his own investigation unit and had a rivalry between him and Joe. Dan always thought he was a stand-up guy until he tried to trick the young officer into taking more frivolous work onto himself and his unit. Mitra: You may ask. Ill answer any question you all have as I explain things. Lewis: Thank you. With all due respect, but are you making us babysit a bunch of students? At that question, there was chatter in the room. Some of the enforcers looked indignant at the suggestion, while some other police officers had a realization that what Lewis was saying may be the case. Mitra: Are you telling me you intend to babysit me? An S class mage? While there is no hard measure of a mages skill and capability, the Union states government still employs a type of ranking system to try and measure those aspects. The ranks range from anywhere from S to F for anyone not an archmage. S being the most skilled and powerful and F being the weakest. Mitra was an S-class mage and was much closer to being an archmage than not. Lewis: N-No. Thats not what I he nervously said, before getting cut off. Mitra: Let me make this clear. I dont care if you''re a cop, enforcer, student, S or F rank mage. Were all going to be working together for the betterment of this city. So throw away whatever presumption you have towards this project and everyone working on it. You will not be working just with students, but with me as well. Along with the other head enforcers who are also S class mages. And, before any of you cops grumble about working with students, know that some of the students youll be working with are probably a higher class mage than many of you. Now, does anyone have more questions or problems about working together? There was deftly silence to what Mitra stated. No one was willing to push back. Mitra: Good. So now I''ll continue. As part of this new project, well be breaking off everyone into different groups. As I understand it, the police already have units formed. So I intend to pair members of the enforcer off into those groups to work together. With at least two people in charge of each unit, one police officer and the other an enforcer. I will assign the enforcer leader and assume that whoever is the current leader of the respective units will lead. Is that clear? There was a little bit of mumbling and a bunch of people nodding along. No one bothered to ask any clarifying questions. Mitra: Seems like it was clear. Now onto what we are investigating. While in the future we will help in any ongoing investigation the police might be doing, we currently at this time want to focus everyone here on a problem at the university. Some of you might have heard, but one of our teachers was performing necromancy on our students. He was stopped, but there was more to it." Officer: What do you mean by that? a different officer asked. Mitra: Im getting there. We did an internal investigation and have found signs that Sorin, the one who was performing necromancy on students, was not working alone. We found documents in Sorins private lab. They had names of people assisting him in acquiring the materials he needed to perform the type of necromancy he was using. It should also be mentioned, but Sorin was specifically using soul-binding magic. At the mention of soul-binding magic, the room broke out in chatter. There existed countless types of forbidden magic in the world, but soul-binding magic was considered particularly heinous within society. Governments and religious organizations actively condemn that type of magic. A type of magic that can only be considered a form of cruel and unusual form of torture. The idea of someone using necromancy on young students here was already unthinkable to everyone in that room, but using soul-binding magic made the whole situation even more outrageous. Alan had a pained look on his face at the mention of soul-binding magic. Thinking about how much his friend Cris must have suffered when he was turned into an undead. Mitra: Then there was Sorins assistant Jixi. He was also mentioned in Sorins document helping directly with the necrotic experiment being performed on the students. Hes the main suspect in this investigation at this time. And, the person the Sleuth-Hawks will be looking for. Lewis: Do you guys not already have him detained? Mitra: No. He went missing soon after Sorins plot was discovered. So part of the investigation will be finding where Jixi is and capturing him if possible. Enforcer: That whole incident with the undead happened a few weeks ago. He may have already left the city by now, a senior-looking enforcer spoke up. Mitra: Jixi might have, but not necessarily everyone else we have identified helping Sorin. So, we will be focusing on bringing in those people first, and if were lucky, one of them might know where Jixi might have gone. Now, I will tell you who is working with whom, and which group will investigate which person. Mitra then began to call out names of enforcers and which police unit they would be joining. Chapter 60 - Look From The Right Angle Do you hear that, listen. NO! STOP READING AND LIStEN!!!!..... Did you hear it? Yes? NO. You LIE. How could you hear? You offered no bones. YOu must offer your BoNes to it, youll hear it. Then hear it. Then hear it. Youll hear the rattle. DOnt want TO offer you bones, THEN OFFER SOMEONE ELSE''S!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What is the rattle? YOU FOOOL! Why ask such stupid thing? Iteverything!?!?! It is the beginning anD the end. It is the inspiration for everything. Offer/bones and yOu tooo shall receive that inspiration. +Once you have muuSt create. You^ must expressSs. Not those laug*hable mockeries those fakes make, but something true and real!!! TAKE BONES FROM OTHERs! It''s not like they''re using (it) for anything important. Then mAke $omething from it. Offer up to the RaTtLE, and receive more inspiration. If you makey something good, maybe, just maybe, maybe, just maybe, youll receive not just inspiration, BUT__KNOWLEDGE. MaYBE, you learn how to make the BoneS dance. Wouldnt that be glorious? Such fun when the bones dance, but they dont just dance. No, no, nononononononononononononononono, they can help elevate your creation!!?!?!% Letz you make somethinG truly GReAT. The grejater YoUr creation, tHe grea*ter INSPIrATION! Oh mY, what would the rattle sound like with sUch a grEeat creation? Tell me? Have you heard the rattle? The Rattle Scratchings a near illegible text written by a unknown person of the Rattle Bone Cult Within the lecture hall where the meeting between the enforcer and police was held, Alan and Jafar sat at a table in front of a young officer in a trench coat who looked nervous. Mitra had paired off everyone into different police units. Alan and Jafar had been paired off into the Joe Striker unit. It seemed to the students here that each unit was just named after whoever was the leader of that police unit. Once Mitra announced what unit each enforcer would be working with, everyone broke off into groups to discuss amongst themselves. This is how Alan found himself sitting in the corner of the lecture hall with this young-looking investigator. Alan: So, are you Joe? Dan: Oh, um. No, My name is Dan. Just another investigator working in Joes unit. Alan: Oh. Jafar: Um, I thought all the leaders of the police units were supposed to be here. Dan: They are, but Joe was a little busy. So I had to come in his stead, he said with a stiff smile. Jafar: Ok A silence followed the awkward exchange. Neither party here knew what they were supposed to talk about. The group needed leadership, but it didnt look like anyone between the three of them was going to rise to that occasion. Suddenly, a voice came from the side to break the awkwardness going on between Alan and Dan. Rell: Hello there. Ive been assigned as the enforcer leader of this unit. My name is Rell. he said while holding a brown folder full of documents in his hand. The enforcer leader wore glasses and had slicked-back brown hair. Rell was shorter than Alan and stood at six feet (1.82 Meters). He wore the white clothing of a senior enforcer with gray accents in it. Indicating he was also of the Grayscale College. His sharp eyes and overall appearance gave the impression of someone who was no-nonsense. Seeing that Rell was from the Grayscale college, Alan suddenly felt a little bit of apprehension. Sorin, the one who killed his friend Cris, was also of the Grayscale College. Whether Alan realized it or not, that horrible interaction with Sorin had left him with an unconscious prejudice against that college and anyone related to it. Rell: So, are you Joe? he asked, directed toward Dan. Dan: Um, no. Im Dan. Joe was busy and couldnt come. Rell: Huh? But the leader of each investigation unit was supposed to be here, he said, confused. Dan: Ah, um. He will come for any future meeting. He was just in the middle of a major operation and couldnt come today. Rell: I see but why just send you? What about the rest of your team? Or are they all participating in that operation youre talking about?" Dan: Yes? Um, well. Um, A thing you should know about Joes unit, It''s the smallest investigation unit in the police force. Rell: How small are we talking? Is it slightly less than the usual 12 that work in a unit? Dan: Including me, we only have three members. Rell: What? he said, sounding unimpressed. Everyone from the enforcer side was surprised. All the investigation units from the police force had a minimum of 12 people who worked in each crew. But, it seemed Joes group was the exception. This unit only had a quarter of the usual amount of staff. Rell rubbed his temples, feeling the stress building inside him as he removed his glasses. Rell: Thisexplains so much, he mumbled. Jafar: What does this explain? he asked, hearing what Rell said. Rell: It explains why you two were the only ones assigned to this unit, as well as the suspects we''ve been assigned to look into. They are not expecting anything from this group," he said with a sigh. "Why me? How did I get assigned here? No one else in the group said anything to what Rell said, everyone felt too awkward to do so. Based on what Alan just heard, he had an idea of what was going on. This unit was the throwaway group. It made sense when Alan thought about it like this. There were only three people in Joes unit and no one else besides Alan, Jafar, and Rell were assigned to this group to make up for the lack of manpower. How would they expect this group to work with so few people, unless their assignment was inconsequential to the overall investigation. This didnt sit well with Alan. He thought that working with the enforcers on this operation would present him with opportunities to rack up accomplishments to help his pursuit of becoming an archmage. But, if the expectation of this group was so low like Rell was suggesting, acquiring merit didnt seem likely. Rell let out another sigh. Rell: I still intend to do my job well. Listen up as I explain things. Joes unit has been assigned five different individuals connected to the Sorin investigation to look into. They have all been ranked as low priority and low danger level. Dan: Um, under what basis are we investigating these people, and how connected to Sorin are they? And could you explain how youre categorizing these people? he said, finally sounding like a real detective for the first time since Alan met him. Rell: In notes acquired from Sorin lab, it mentions buying materials from these individuals for his soul-binding ritual. However, the materials he bought were not illegal themselves and the people who were selling to Sorin were all legitimate vendors. Thats why they are considered low priority. As it has been determined these people likely have no significant connection to Sorin and his crimes. And, its considered low danger because none of the five people are mages. Does that answer your question? Dan: I believe so, he said as he pulled out a small notebook and wrote something down. Rell: You dont need to write any of this down. This folder here has all the information I mentioned, he said as he handed it to Dan. Dan: Oh, thanks, he said as he received the documents. Rell: I expect you to deliver this to your leader. Speaking of your leader. When will this operation you said hes doing be done? So that we can begin the Jixi investigation. Dan: Um, I''m sure hell be done by tomorrowHopefully. ?????????????????? On the east side of Graheel, Joe was talking to an average-looking man who was just casually walking around Eld Street. Man: I dont know anything! he yelled. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Joe: Sir, please. I just want to know he said, before being interrupted by the man he was speaking to. Man: I dont know anything!!! he yelled once more before running away from Joe. The man sprinted around a corner beyond where Joe could see him. The officer felt baffled about what just happened. This was the seventh person that did that to him, where they screamed they didnt know anything and ran off. Joe had been asking around the neighborhood about the antique shop Cory had told him about. During his questioning, he was getting a mix of people. Those who genuinely didnt seem to know about any antique shop on Eld Street. And then, the people who clearly knew something, but were too scared to say anything. The people who seemed to know something would immediately flee from Joe once he mentioned an antique shop. Under normal circumstances, Joe might have tried to use his authority as a cop to get information out of these people, but he couldnt do that here. This was the east end and he was extremely close to the Red-light District, where the Nighthounds are based. Announcing he was a cop here would be dangerous if not outright suicide. He already knew he was pushing it as it is, and assumed that someone would be reporting him asking about an antique shop on Eld Street to the Nighthounds, due to being so close to the Red-light District. Thats why he needed to find this guy today. It would become too dangerous for him to come back later to look. The senior detective was originally betting on finding this keeper of secrets before his activities were reported to the Nighthounds. The problem was, he couldnt find this store Cory mentioned. In truth, Joe wouldnt have even bothered asking around if could help it. He would have just gone to this store and talked to that mysterious guy. But, where Cory said to look for this store, it wasn''t there. They had managed to find an alchemy shop and bakery they were told, but there was no antique shop between them. Joe and Mike then looked up and down the Street for another bakery or alchemy store, but couldnt find anything else. They were then forced to split up and ask the locals. That is when both officers noticed the strange behavior of some of the people they talked with. There was clearly something going on, but no one wanted to tell them anything. So Joe couldnt get completely mad at Cory for the information, as there was something to it. But, he was running out of time. He and Mike had already spent two hours asking around to no result. Every hour they spent here increased the chance that they might run into someone from the Nighthounds. Joe knew he had to avoid that at all costs. Joe took a deep breath and then began walking down Eld Street. He was heading toward the meeting point both detectives were supposed to meet at. He was hoping Mike was fairing better than him. As he walked down the busy street he looked around. It was vibrant and active with life. Regular people walk in and out of stores just casually living their lives. Many of the establishments looked to be refurbished and almost presented as a high-end store, but were not. They sold regular goods and the clientele looked varied. The few high-end stores Joe knew of, wouldnt even let non-mages shop at. Something that clearly wasn''t going on here. The street looked like a pleasant place to live in or nearby, similar to what Joe experienced on Vaal Street. I still cant get over how much the Nighthounds changed the east end. I hate to admit it, but if they were not a crime syndicate, they would probably be the best thing to happen to this city in a long time. Joe silently thought to himself as he walked along. Almost nowhere in the east end of the city hasn''t been touched by the Nighthonds and their investments''''. The money that the gang made from the Red-light District and their other illicit activities flowed back into the east end in a profound way. The Nighthounds had become a major economic driver for the people living here. They used their vast amount of money to buy everything on the east end. That organization also didnt just sit on all the land it brought up, but redeveloped it and made a place you wanted to live in. That is why places like Eld Street and Vaal Street were so nice. What was also astonishing, was that the Nighthounds didnt charge an exorbitant amount to rent out any of their redeveloped buildings. It was almost like they ran the entire thing like a charity. But, Joe knew better. Owning so much of the east gave the Nighthounds almost absolute control of that part of the city. Then they also end up captivating the people by fixing everything and making it cheap to live in, entrenching the Nighthounds into everyday people''s lives in a way that cant be easily separated. It''s all ingenious. At the rate the Nighthounds are growing their power and buying up everything, Im not sure that special police unit will not be able to do anything about them soon. Joe thought to himself. The senior investigator kept walking along until he stopped in front of an alchemy shop, The Bubbling Beaker. Shelves full of various chemicals litter the entire display of the front window, as well as more bottles of things laid about on tables outside. There was no one around to watch and make sure nothing would be stolen, the owner of that store was clearly unworried that something like that would happen around here. Joe looked intensely at the store then turned his head slightly to look at the bakery next door. The bakery was called Lindsey''s Bakery. The display window in the front of the store held shelves with rows of baked goods for sale. People could be seen exiting the store with brown bags full of baked goods. It just doesn''t make sense. Cory had told Joe that this antique shop was somewhere right where he was standing. This was the only place on this street that had those two exact establishments he was told about. But, there was no antique store to be seen anywhere when they got here. The rest of the street was mostly bars, restaurants, and clothing stores. This should have been the place Joe was told about. While thinking about the accuracy of the information he got, he stared intently back at the alchemy store. When Joe and Mike got here and couldnt find the store they were told about, the senior investigator headed inside the Bubbling Beaker to ask for information. The owner of that store was a little strange. He was a little chubby around his midsection and his left eye seemed to be a little twitchy. However, the thing that made that man stand out the most was his response to Joes questioning. The man in the alchemy store clearly knew something when Joe asked about an antique store. Unlike many of the other people who would flee and get scared when he asked, this person''s response was different. That man was calm and simply said: Youre clearly not meant to find it. If you cant easily find that store, then you shouldnt bother looking for it. It wont go well for you otherwise. The alchemy store owner wouldnt elaborate further on what he meant by that. Joe was considering if he should go back into that store and push the strange man for more information. But, he needed to meet up with Mike before he could decide if he would do that. The detective turned his head toward some nearby benches. Only a few dozen feet away from the Joe was. This was where he was supposed to meet up with Mike. Sitting on the bench was Mike staring intensely at both the bakery and the alchemy store. Joe walked over to his partner and took a seat right beside him before letting out a long tired sigh. Joe: No luck on my end. What about you? he said while leaning back into the bench. Mike: Nothing. The people I talked to got scared and clammed up as soon as I mentioned an antique store. he said while leaning forward and resting his head on his hands. Joe: Same for me. This isn''t going well. Mike: Do you think the information Cory gave you was bad? Joe: Maybe? But, at the same time, I''m unsure. If there was nothing to the information he gave us, then people around here wouldnt act the way they did when we asked about an antique store. Mike: What do you think is going on with that? Joe: Maybe, they''re hiding this person from us. Mike: Threatened into silence, huh. With how scared everyone acted when they asked about the antique shop, Mike could only imagine that something like the threat of violence was involved. Joe: Would seem likely. This information is really hard to come by. Scaring people into not talking about it would be a good way to keep knowledge about this guy from spreading. Mike: But, the info we got talked about an antique store. Even if you can keep people from talking about this guy, how do you hide an entire store?" Joe: Hmm, maybe were going about this wrong. Maybe, this store is actually somewhere hidden in a back alley near a bakery and alchemy store, out of sight." Mike: But, thats not what Cory said. Joe: I know. But, I don''t know how else to proceed from here. The store we were told about isn''t here, and there is nowhere else on the street that matches what we were told. I have to assume that there were details to the information that wasn''t good. Mike: If you say so. But, that means well have to search the back streets and I didn''t want to do that. Were more likely to get jumped by Nighthounds if we wander around there." Joe: I know," he sighed. "If I knew it was going to be like this, I would have checked those back streets first. Since weve already spent so much time around and were questioning people, we''re very likely to attract Nighthounds attention now. Mike: Should we come back later then? Joe: I dont know. It could be harder for us to come back here later. Both officers just groaned and sat there in thought. It was starting to look like a dead end to Joe. He wasn''t sure if it was a good idea to push this any further than they already had. The more Joe thought about it, the more he was ready to call it quits and leave the east end. As he was about ready to tell Mike they were going to bail, Mike spoke up. Mike: Hey. Do you see something over there? he said while pointing in front of him. Joe looked towards where Mike was pointing. He was pointing toward the bakery and alchemy store he was just standing in front of a little while ago. Joe looked intensely but didnt notice anything in particular. Joe: Um, no. Do you see something? Mike: Justlook at that space between those two stores. Joe did what Mike said. He continued to look but still didnt notice anything. The two stores were right beside each other and seemed to be separated by a single narrow wall. It wasn''t anything particular, as a lot of the buildings around here were tightly packed together. As Joe continued to stare, he rubbed his eyes. He felt like he was going cross-eyed from staring at the small space between the shops. When he looked back, he started to notice some more oddities. It was blurry in some spots, but if he angled his head right, it would immediately clear up. There were also some tiny architectural details that he started to notice that defied logic. Some of the designs of the building folded and clipped through itself. It would also bend a move relative to what angle he looked at it. Joe: Huh? The strangeness he was starting to see was very small and easy to miss, but once he noticed, Joe couldnt look away or help seeing it. Mike: Yeah. Are seeing it too. There is somethingWHAT!?! he yelped out in surprise. Joe: What? W-what do you see? Mike didn''t answer Joe. He instead started to move his head around from side to side. Joe: Are you going to tell me whats going on? Mike: Just move your head around. Maybe to the left and youll see it. Joe did as Mike suggested. As the senior investigator moved his head around, the appearance of the space between the bakery and the alchemy store started to shift and warp. Suddenly, like a lenticular image, everything lined up to reveal a store neither officer had seen before. Once the officers looked at it from the right angle, it was like this new store pushed the bakery and alchemy shop to the side and expanded the space between them. It seemed like an illusion based on perspective, but at the same time felt more than just that. Joe: What the fuck?!? Intermission VIII In the center of the town of Corpa, a group of people wearing red robes had gathered. They were busy piling wood around a pyre. There were a few local onlookers, many of whom looked troubled by the scene. On top of the unlit pyre, a woman was tied to a wooden post and screaming. Woman: You cant do this! Please! The people in robes ignored the woman''s pleas and kept throwing wood on the pyre. Another in red robes climbed on top of the wooden structure with a container in his hand. The man in the red robe emptied out the continents of the vessel, a flammable liquid, pouring it on top of the womens head. Drenching her in the liquid, before the man climbed back down. Woman: Pleassss. N-no. I-I dont want to die, she said with tears rolling down her cheeks. The woman looked around frantically for anybody that she could try to appeal to. Her eyes then landed on a man who was standing beside the wooden platform. The man wore simple brown clothing and looked like he was from here. The woman was very familiar with this individual. Woman: Steven! My love! Places stop this! Dont let them burn me. Think of our son, Matt! He still needs his mother! Upon hearing that, the man named Steven had an incredibly pained look. He was in utter anguish at what was about to happen. Under the orders of the Red Church, his wife Alex was to be burned alive. Another hooded woman in red robes saw this exchange and came up to Steven''s side and rested her hand on his shoulder. Showing some sympathy for the man. Red Robe Women: Steven, are you ok? You know, you dont have to be here. Steven: No, I do. ButIm not doubting the Red Church or anything. But, Thalia, are you really sure? Is my wife Alex really a he stopped mid-sentence, unable to utter the words. Thalia withdrew her hand from Steven''s shoulder and ascended the wooden platform. She stood face-to-face with Alex, pulling back the hood of her robes to reveal long platinum hair. Her beautiful face boasted striking green eyes. It seemed that many of the priests of the Red Church were exceptionally attractive, and Thalia upheld this perception with her own appearance. With a solemn expression, she gazed at Alex. Thalia: You know, its not too late for you to repent, Alex. I dont enjoy doing this. The Red Church will accept you with flaws and all. Alex: Thalia, please. I did nothing wrong, she said pleadingly. Thalia: Youre still continuing this farce? Alex: Its not a farce. Im innocent. I did nothing. Its all aGah! she screamed out in pain. Thalia had quickly pulled out a dagger from beneath her robes and stabbed Alex in the shoulder with it. Alex screamed again as Thalia twisted the blade before pulling it out, leaving a wicked wound. It looked serious and blood was gushing out from it. Except, there was something odd about the blood. It wasn''t red. The blood that was dripping out of the stab wound was blue. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. It wasn''t normal. Maybe it could be explained away if she was a mutant, but Alex had children, which mutants normally cant have. While Alex being a mutant was still a slim possibility, there was a more compelling explanation to Thalia that explained why Alex had blue blood. Thalia: Blue blood. The symbol of the Lapis Ichor cult. What do you have to say now, Alex? Are you going to continue to deny that youre a cultist? That you weren''t responsible for luring some of the children away to get them attacked by maw frogs? So you could collect their body parts for some twisted ritual. Alex remained silent, her head hung low, no longer struggling against her bonds. Thalia: Hmm, nothing to say now? Fine then. Light the pyre! she called out to the other red robe Thalia started to climb down from the platform and managed to get halfway down before Alex started screaming. Alex: IT ALL YOUR FAULT! You damn weird new cultists and you guys pretending to be a church bullcrap! I could have continued to collect children''s blood if it wasnt for you fucks!! The locals who were present were surprised at what Alex just said. Between what they heard and the blue blood Thalia revealed, any apprehension some of the people had turned to anger. Anger that one of their own was secretly killing their children. People were getting frenzied up, and now actively cheering on Alex''s execution. Bystander: Burn her! Burn her! one shouted. Another Bystander: My child died because of her! Kill her now!! another shouted. Some men in red robes were now approaching with lit torches in their hands, preparing to light the pyre. Steven was taken aback at everything he saw and heard. Steven: Alex! Please say its not true! Alex: Shut up you stupid man! Your only purpose was to sire me a child that I could offer up to my god! Steven: But hes your son! Alex: Exactly! Perfect material for a ritual. Steven could look on with his mouth agape at what he just heard. This exchange was heard by everyone nearby and started to frenzied them up even more. Thalia stepped off the pyre and stood beside Steven, watching as the men with torches approached the wooden structure and prepared to set it on fire. Steven: Wait! Stop! The men stopped and looked at Steven with confusion. Unable to believe that someone would protest this execution. Thalia: Steven, youre not seriously trying to save her? After what she said and did, she echoed the thoughts of the Red Church members here. Steven: No...Ill do it myself. Steven grabbed one of the torches out of the red robe man and walked up to the Pyer. Alex: OH! Finally growing a pair, you fucking idiot, she mocked Steven. Steven: I wont let you hurt our my son. Goodbye Alex. I guess I didnt really know you, he said with tears running down his face. Steven threw the lit torch into the wooden pile. The wood quickly ignited, creating an inferno around Alex. Alex: "YOULL ALL PAY! THE GOD OF LAPIS ICHOR AND THE OTHER NAMELESS GODS WILL PUNISH YOU ALL!! THE RED CHURCH WONT BE ABLE TO PROTECT YOU!! she screamed out as the fire consumed her. Chapter 61 - A Poor Discussion Within the Western continent, there are five identified known distinct races. As such, the five known races are as follows: Giant, Dragon, Ascendiant, Graywalker, and Human. Races are categorized by the capability of developing or learning a language and whether or not they share any particular distinct lineage. If a creature is capable of complex communication, it is often enough to be considered as its own race, with the factor of lineage coming into play when discussing the variety of mutations that exist within the world. Despite past categorization, mutants are no longer held as a distinct race by experts in the field. Activists argued it was discriminatory to label mutants as a separate race from humans. All mutants that exist today are descended from humans in some form or another. And, from a cultural and lineage perspective, mutants are not significantly distinct enough to be separated as another race. Due to the qualification of a distinct lineage being an important factor in recognizing a race, groups like Elves are not considered a distinct race. Through extensive research of history and genetic testing, it was confirmed that Elves are just mutated humans. This was known for a long time since Elves are capable of having offspring with humans and vice versa. Races with distinct lineages cannot have offspring with each other. However, some Elven communities have continued to deny the fact of them being mutated humans. The Races Of The Western Continent by Vorex Mantipy Joe moved his head a foot to the right and the store he was looking at just suddenly disappeared. He then moved his back to where it was before and could see the perplexing store again. No doubt about it. You can only see this place if you look at it from a very specific angle. Joe hypothesized. It all made sense to Joe now. The information he got from Cory was accurate. There really was a strange antique store on Eld Street between a bakery and an alchemist shop. It was hidden in plain sight before their very eyes. Except, calling it plain sight was not correct. The concealing nature of this store was complex. Even noticing anything strange about this place was difficult. Only once you focus your attention, could you notice tiny details that are off about the location. And, those details were extremely small. Joe was a trained detective who could pick up on those small details and incongruities. He wasn''t sure if the average person would notice those small inconsistencies and suspect anything strange. It explained to him why more than half the people he questioned around here didnt seem to know about this place. This store was so well hidden, that Joe was sure if he wasn''t told where to look, he would have never found this place. The difficulty in seeing the store didnt feel like an optical illusion with perspective, but it also didnt seem like illusion magic either to Joe. Which was confusing. The strangeness of finding this store could easily be explained away with illusions, but Joe didnt detect any of that kind of magic. When a mage identifies an illusion that may be at play, they can analyze the magic and understand how it works. However, in this particular situation, Joe couldn''t do that. As a mage, he reached out with his senses to try and feel the aether that would have been used for a spell, but he felt nothing. He didn''t sense any aether, which meant there was no magic being cast on this store to hide it. Too complex just to be an optical illusion, but no aether to suggest magic. What in the world is up with this place? Its like it doesn''t even look like it exist unless I look at it from the right angle. Joe pondered to himself. Mike: Whats the deal with this place? I cant feel any aether. Is there really no illusion magic obscuring it, he said, echoing Joes thoughts. Joe: Maybe not. It might be some sort of complex illusion magic that cant easily be sensed, even if you know its there. Mike: Have you dealt with that kind of level of illusion magic before? Because this would be a first for me. Joe: No. Im just speculating. This guy is supposed to be incredibly powerful. So he might know some sort of illusion magic that we never heard of and can even hide aether. At least, thats my best guess. Otherwise, I dont really have an explanation of what''s going on" Mike: I seeactually youre probably right. You told me Cory thinks this guy is unimaginably powerful. So, I can see what youre saying being the case. Both officers turned to look at the front of the store. The shop had a sign on top that read "The Mystic Emporium." It had two large display windows with a glass door in between them. The windows had shelves filled with miscellaneous objects that you would expect to find in an antique store. The shelves were so tightly packed at the front that it was difficult to see very far into the store from the window. It was actually a really normal looking store to both investigators. They would have assumed nothing about it, if it wasn''t for the strangeness in finding it. Mike: So whats the plan? Good cop bad cop again? Joe: No. That wont work this time. Mike: I guess we dont have enough info on that guy to play that off. Joe: That, and I doubt he would respond well to me threatening him as the bad cop. Mike: Those with power rarely respond well to threats. Assuming, Corys information about how powerful this guy is is true. Joe: The info hasn''t been wrong yet. Mike: Hmm. So how do we proceed from here? Joe: Ill go in alone, and you keep watch and come running when I yell for you. Mike: I dont like that idea. If this guy is dangerous, youll need me right by your side. Joe: We dont know if this guy is dangerous or even hostile, but we do know that the Nighthounds are. Theyre probably going to be informed by our recent actions and come around here soon. If that happens, well need to flee. So, I need you to keep an eye out for them while I talk to this guy. Mike: But we dont know for sureno. Youre right. We should assume that they notice our presence and take precautions. Joe just nodded at Mike. Mike: But, if thats the situation. I should be the one to talk to this guy. Joe: Why? Mike: Do you seriously have to ask why? Joe: Look, Im not going in for a fight. Ill play nice. Mike just sighed. He could see in his partner''s eyes determination to pursue this course of action. Once Joe got like this, there was nothing anyone could say. Mike just slightly nodded. Joe stood up and started walking forward. Making sure to maintain the angle he was looking at the strange store, so as not to lose sight of it. As he approached, he looked at the sign above the door to the emporium. Mystic emporium, huh? Is this a shop that sells magical equipment? But the items on display dont look like they have anything to do with magic. Strange. Joe thought to himself. Joe did another look over at the store, but still didnt notice anything particular. Despite the banality of the store in front of Joe, there was a slight hesitancy. Something was telling him not to enter. It was his instinct, somehow more profound than it ever had been. It was like something beyond himself was trying to pull him away from here. It gave the senior officer pause. But, he pushed through it. He was close to something, he just knew it. Joe already believed it was too late to turn back now. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. With a deep breath, he pushed the door open and entered inside. ?????????????????? The inside of the Emporium was much bigger on the inside than it appeared on the outside. Another oddity about the store John was living in that he couldnt explain. However, anything to do with Onyx was unexplainable for the man from another world. Another oddity was that the size, decoration, arrangement, furniture, and even entire floors constantly change on a daily basis. It was just yesterday that there was an additional level to the main store that people could climb up to through some nearby stairs. But today, that second level and stairs were gone. The Mystic emporium went back to having a single main store floor. Thankfully, the random changes like a second floor were rare and almost never happened when John had customers. Most of the rearrangements that occurred, he could easily explain away to the people who came to the Mystic emporium. It would be a lot more difficult to explain away adding or removing entire floors of a building. John on this day was sitting at the back of the store. He was at his usual table, one of the few pieces of furniture that didnt seem to change much from day to day. There were a few things in the store that didnt randomly move around or change design. His bed and the table he was sitting at were two of them. John was reading a manga from his original world called: Ninja Wars. It was a story about a young boy who would one day become the greatest Ninja and prove he was not a nuisance to everyone that mistreated him in his village. John let out a sigh as he finished reading his manga. John: Hmm, guess Ill have to wait for next month''s release. he said as he turned the final page of his issue of Ninja Wars. Famed to be the longest running manga series, Ninja Wars continued to release monthly even after twenty years since John came to this world. One of the limitations of the ability to manifest things was that it had to exist somewhere. As a result, John just couldn''t see the next issue of Ninja Wars until it was written and published back in his original world. This limitation that John discovered, made him think that there was a really good chance that whatever entity that brought him to this world might be grabbing things from other worlds and placing them in the store. John then sat there thinking if there was something else he wanted from his original world when he heard the sound of the store bell ring out, signaling someone opening the front door. He looked up and saw an older man with a fedora, trench coat and tie walk into the store. The man gave John very strong film noir vibes from seeing him. A new customer! I can finally make use of the counseling book I''ve been reading! John excitedly thought. John was excited by a new customer, but he hid his excitement. He instead pretended to read his manga and not notice the man entering. He was trying to hide his interest in the new customer, as to make himself more approachable and avoid coming off as overbearing. He expected the man to look around a bit, but he walked right to John. Man: Excuse me. Are you the owner of this store? he asked as he approached John. John: That I am. My name is John Li. How can I help you Mr he said, expecting the man to introduce himself. Joe: Joe Striker, as soon as he said that, his eyes widened in surprise and he started to look confused. John: A pleasure to meet you, Mr Striker. What can I help you with? Are you looking for something specific? Joe: Oh, um. I was looking for information on curses. John: Curses? he said, surprised at what was being asked. This was a first for John. No one has ever asked him about something like this. John didnt fully understand how magic worked in this world, but he imagined that curses in this world had similar connotations to his original world. A hex to bring misfortune upon others. Something that could only be used for nefarious reasons. It then begged the question to John on why this man was looking for this kind of information. John: Now, why are you looking for info on such a thing? Joe: Its for something important. John: And that important thing? he said, trying to coax a concise answer from the strange customer. Joe: Its an investigation. John: Investigation? Who are you exactly? Joe: Um, an investigator? he said, clearly hiding something. John was becoming suspicious. Something about this man didnt feel like any of the customers that hes tried to help in the past. Almost everyone who entered through that front door for the first time had a deep sense of sadness to them that John could feel. Many of them seemed like they were tethering on the edge. He wasn''t getting any of that from Joe. The question being asked was also somewhat alarming. John didnt know if he could manifest information about curses, but he wouldnt even try to see if it was possible. He could see nothing good coming from it. And, a person asking for such information made John curious about their intentions. John: Right What kind of investigator are we talking about? Joe: Do you know anything about curses? Specifically, deadly curses. he said, ignoring John''s question. John sighed at the question. John: If I did, what would you use that information for? You know nothing good could come from such things. Joe: You do know something then. Please, I need to know about deadly curses and how they work and who could invoke them and John raised his and gestured for Joe to stop speaking. John: You didnt answer my question. What kind of investigator are you? The research kind, criminal, private, or something else? Joe: Does that matter? John just gave Joe a look of disbelief at the statement he just heard. The lengths this man was going though to be obtuse was starting to annoy John. I can tell. This guy is going to be a headache. John thought to himself as he quickly rubbed his temples. John: OK, look. You walk into my store, start asking questions about curses and refuse to tell me anything about yourself. How do you think a normal person would respond? Joe: Well, this isn''t a normal store. John: ...fair point. he said, having a hard time rebuking the remark. Suddenly, John realized something. Wait, what does he know about my store? he thought to himself. He remembered that Joe said he was an investigator. Joe also looked the part of an investigator in a noir film, but John didnt want to assume. However, if he did, John had one idea of what kind of investigator he might be. John became wide-eyed as he suspected that one of his fears in this world might be coming true. An investigator for tax evasion. Ever since he opened up shop here, John had never paid any local tax. It made him fearful that one day someone from the government would show up and start harassing him for payment. Tax collection agencies were frightening in his original world, he could only imagine it being even worse in a world with magic. John was becoming tense. John: Are you from the government? Joe paused as he thought about something before he finally admitted it. Joe: Yeah. Im part of the criminal investigation unit here in Graheel. John quickly relaxed once he heard Joe wasn''t the kind of investigator for taxes. But, his mood still started to turn sour from hearing he was a criminal investigator. John: Oh, so you are a cop, he said, sounding unimpressed. Maybe it was from the horrible things the cops from his original world did to him, or possibly from his countless interactions with people on the east end who have a very unfavorable opinion of the police, but John really didn''t like cops. It was impossible to not detect disdain in John''s voice once he realized Joe was working for the police. John: What do you want? Joe: Information on curses. John: Why? Joe let out a sigh Joe: I''m working on an investigation that involves them. I need to know about deadly curses as part of the crime I''m trying to solve. John narrowed his eyes at Joe as his suspicions heightened even further. He believed what Joe told him was a lie. It just didnt make sense. Even if what this investigator was saying is true, why would he come here? Its not like I go around cursing others. I give people advice and some material goods that might help others with their problems. I''m not some sort of evil wizard. John silently thought to himself. John: And why did you come here for that information? Joe: There were rumors floating around about this place, so I followed them here. A non-answer. There is no way I can confirm or deny his explanation. I dont trust anything this guy is saying. Is there an alternative motive? Wait a minute? If curses are a thing in this world, they would obviously be illegal, right? John pondered. John remembered hearing stories from his own world of unscrupulous cops tricking people into admitting to crimes that they didn''t commit. They would use that as a bullshit reason to arrest innocent people. He was starting to believe that was what might be happening right now. This guy is trying to set me up! This bastard! Hes obviously trying to get me to admit to having something to do with curses, and then use that against me for something. Fuck me. The cops here are just as crooked as the ones from where Im from. John thought. Jumping to a conclusion due to his suspicion and previous bad experience with police. John: Well, those rumors were wrong. I cant help you. he said, trying to shut this conversation down. Joe: You clearly hinted you knew something a few seconds ago. John: No. I was telling you what youre asking was Joe: I dont believe you. he said interrupting John mid-sentence. John: What?! he said, surprised by what the man in front of him just said again. Joe: You clearly know something. I dont know why youre hiding it, but I need to know. John: I told you. I dont know anything. Joe: I need to know about deadly curses. I need to know how they kill people and who could use them. John: How many times do I have to tell you. I dont know anything about curses. Im not a mage. Joe: I still dont believe you. This is important. I nee was all he said before being cut off by John. John: Sir, I think you should leave. Chapter 62 - From The Fire Into The Pan Of the three most powerful cults, the Blood Callers are the least well-documented of the big three. Centuries ago they had not been considered a particularly large or powerful cult. Many might even consider their beliefs not particularly harmful to society. But take heed to those who read this. All cults are evil, and the Blood Callers have more than proven this undeniable fact by their actions in the last hundred years. From what scholars had managed to uncover about this cult''s beliefs, the entire organization is based around a singular prophecy. They believe that something called the True Blood will one day come into this world and save all of existence, undoing all past, present, and future sins. It is not clear what this True Blood is, or when and if it will ever arrive. In their belief in this thing called True Blood, they appear to be willing to do all varieties of manipulative and inhumane acts in service of it. Only two pieces of information are concretely known about this cult at the time, besides their vague prophecy. This cult operates with an extreme amount of subterfuge, more so than any other known cult. Firstly, they had an overwhelming amount of success in infiltrating various important parts of society in the past. The famous Red Book Incident of Vorx eighty years ago highlights this fact. For those who do not know of this incident. The Red Book Incident was a secret lab belonging to the Blood Callers that was discovered and raided in the city of Vrox. In that Lab, a red book was found containing over a hundred names of members of the cult. More than half the names in that book were politicians, wealthy business owners, and a host of other people in leadership positions in everyday society. Once those people''s names were revealed, they were arrested or had disappeared, likely going into hiding. Those who work in the field of intelligence suggest that members of that cult are highly active even today, and are still trying to sneak their members into positions of power. However, thanks to the counter-intelligent agencies, they dont seem to be as successful as they were during the Red Book Incident. Secondly, they had been found to be conducting inhumane experimentation from what was found in the labs discovered in Vorx. From what could be gathered from those experiments, they were trying to create the thing they call the True Blood. It seems that there is no consensus even within this cult on what the True Blood is from the research notes recovered from those disturbing experiments. As such, they were attempting to create this True Blood through human experimentation. Those human experiments involved Krimson and were so vile, I refuse to recount them in this work. For more information on that, please refer to Light Scholar Lorel Vesps''s work The Monster in Blood: A detailed retelling of the Crimes of the Blood Callers if you require to know the specifics. Writings of Light Scholar Lukka on The Machinations of the Nameless Cults This isn''t going well. Joe thought to himself. Ever since he walked into this strange store hes been feeling on edge. There was nothing particularly overtly strange about the interior of the store, but there was just something about this place that didnt sit well with him that he couldnt explain. That unease was making him blunder this conversation he was trying to have. He even introduced himself with his real name without thinking. He didnt mean to do that at the time. Joe wanted to limit as much information about him being here on the east end as possible. Yet, for some reason he just blurted out his name when asked. That was his first blunder. The second was trying to ask about curses. There is no good or easy way to ask about curses with a stranger. Its an illicit magic that most wouldn''t have that much knowledge about, especially for people who lived on the east side of the city. As not many spellcasters lived around here. For better or worse, Joe decided to go for the quick brute force approach and just straight out asked about it. The red-eyed man seemed to hint at knowing something, but was noncommittal to it. Despite how uncomfortable he was feeling, Joes intuition picked up on that and he tried to push this John guy for more info. However, this man was being very insistent on knowing Joes identity. Joe didnt want to tell this man any more than he had to. So, he gave him an ambiguous answer and tried to move on to his own inquiry. The response that followed his questions pretty much confirmed in Joes mind that John knew something about deadly curses. The store owner seemed to be hinting he knew something, but was unwilling to tell him. Joe could understand being tight-lipped about that kind of information. It was a dangerous type of magic that you wouldnt want to be casually spreading around. Once he knew that this man likely knew something, he opted to be a little more open with this man. Telling him who he really was. In hopes that the red-eyed man would trust him enough to divulge more information. This was his third and final mistake in this entire conversation. For whatever reason, once John heard Joe confirming he was working for the police, he shut down. His demeanor completely changed and didnt seem interested in answering any more questions. The store owner started to deny knowing anything about curses too. Joe, being somewhat bullheaded, pushed even harder once John started denying having any knowledge. He started grilling him. This resulted in him currently being told to leave. John: Sir, I think you should leave. he said, sternly. Maybe I should have eased into asking about the curse, or not tell him I was a cop. It''s too late now. Joe thought to himself. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Joe felt stupid for confirming he was a cop. This was the east side of the city, where cops were not welcome. John''s change in demeanor wasn''t that strange for Joe if he considered where he was. He should have said he was a private investigator and denied any association with the police. Then maybe John wouldnt have turned antagonistic. Joe: Please, this is important. John: I told you. I don''t know anything about curses! he said, clearly annoyed now. Joe: What about somebody else that knows about curses? Could you tell me about them? Or, maybe a book or something about deadly curses. John: No, he said flatly without even considering Joe''s question. If this wasn''t the Nighthounds territory, I would try using some of my authority as a cop now. But, I cant do that here and I''m not sure if it would even work on a guy like this. Joe thought to himself. The senior investigator stared at the mans red eyes in front of him. Joe felt like the conversation was starting to look like a flop. Threats were not an option. Didnt look like a trade of information was now possible either. Joe was starting to wish he sent Mike to question instead of him. Joe thought he could put on the air of an amiable person, but the unsettling feeling was getting to him. Causing him to act out a bit irrationally and make poor choices in trying to steer the conversation. Joe needed to focus, but couldn''t. He was about to try and ask another follow up question when he heard growling. Dog: Grrr! There was white dog baring its teeth at Joe while standing by the side of the table John was at. The canine was snarling. Joe didnt notice the creature when he first entered. It looked angry and ready to jump and attack at a moment''s notice. A memory of Cory warning not to piss off this guy''s dog flashed in Joe''s mind. Normally, Joe wouldnt be too worried about an angry dog. He was a mage and a normal dog wouldnt pose much threat to him even if he was attacked. Joe could easily defend himself. However, that was only for a normal dog. Something about Johns white furred dog was different. There was no particular thing about its appearance that separated it from any other dogs Joe had seen before. But, a deep impulse within was telling him something was off, and was leading to an overwhelming amount of anxiety. That unease grew and actually started to become more oppressive than the moments just before Rob''s death. The officer''s fight-or-flight response suddenly kicked in. He froze up. All in response to the dogs growling. He felt danger and didnt understand why. Ive literally had a gun pointed at my head before and didnt flinch. Why is this different? Why am I freezing up because of a dog? Or, is it really a dog? Joe wondered. John looked down at the white growling furred dog and then back at Joe. John: Seems that Lunar doesn''t like you either. I suggest you leave before he tries to bite you, he said coldly. At this point, Joe was all too ready to leave, but that oppressive feeling kept him in place. His body betrayed him as he was too scared to move now. He couldnt move his feet no matter how much he tried to force himself. He looked at the large white malamute and felt like he was being stared down by a monstrous predator. Long lost ancestral vestigial instinct buried in Joe was now awake, and telling his body not to act. For even if Joes mind couldn''t comprehend what was happening, his body understood something on a deeper level. One wrong move and he was dead, or worse. Suddenly, Joe was overcome with a new strange sensation. That same feeling he got just before entering the store, the one that was telling him to turn back, started to fill his entire being. That feeling, Joe could only describe it as otherworldly. It was like there was some sort of strange force beyond himself that was pulling at him, trying to usher him out of this store to safety. This new alien sensation pushed back the oppression he got from the dog and Joe could move again, but he hardly felt safe at the moment. Slowly, he started stepping backward, not daring to turn his back on either the dog or the mysterious store owner. John didnt say anything and seemed to just stare down Joe with a cold indifference in his eyes. Eventually, he felt his back bump into the front door of the store. He reached behind himself and felt around until found the doorknob. He turned the knob and pushed the door open with his body while walking backwards out of the Mystic Emporium. Never turning his back. Joe would never fully comprehend how close he came to ruin in this moment. ?????????????????? Sweat ran down Joes back. He didnt understand what had just happened. Joe didnt go in there to fight, but the store owner seemed to turn hostile towards him. It was that damn weird feeling in that store. I couldnt focus on being amiable. He thought to himself, trying to find excuses as to why that conversation went badly. That unease he felt put him on edge and caused him to revert to his usual stubborn ways. Grilling this person was the last thing Joe intended to do, but he ended up doing just that. He had no opportunity to try to charm this John person. Joe was still standing in front of the Mystic Emporium. He looked up at the store sign and thought about what happened in that strange store. Corys information was right. Theres definitely something up with that guy. Joe thought to himself. Joe was thinking about that oppressive feeling he got inside the store. He didnt know what it was, but he was comparing it to the feeling he got the moments before Rob died. It was similar in some ways, but what he just felt was way more intense than with Rob. The feeling he got before Rob died was malevolent. The feeling he got from that dog felt more like a warning. He shuddered at the thought of what he felt was just a warning. Joe wondered if there was a connection. He wasnt sure there was, but this was the second time he experienced a strange feeling that was able to overwhelm him. He thought it just had to be. Maybe not a direct connection, but some sort of knowledge that the store owner possessed that could explain Robs circumstances. Joe felt like John was hiding something. Then there was that other feeling Joe got that was even more perplexing to him. What was that other weird feeling? The one that stopped the fear and unease, allowing me to move. I dont understand how I know this, but Im pretty sure the source of that feeling came from somewhere outside the store. He wondered. Joe was about to turn around and walk back to Mike when he felt a knot in his stomach. His fight-or-flight response was still somewhat active, and he was having a hard time turning his back on this store. Not wanting to stand here, Joe continued to walk backward towards Mike. Keeping himself facing the Mystic Emporium. He was hoping that once he got far enough from this store, the fear in his body would calm down. Ugh, I probably look like such an idiot walking backward like this. Joe thought to himself. While walking backward, Joe took a glance to his left and right to see who might be looking at him for his strange behavior. He became worried about what he saw. There was no one on the street. It was completely empty and not a soul could be seen. It was still the middle of the day and should have been crowded with people wanting to shop. It was beyond strange for Joe to see. Once he got far enough, he was having a hard time seeing the mysterious store again, and the tightness in his body finally relaxed. Joe took a deep sigh of relief. He finally felt like he had full control over his body again. He then turned toward the bench, where he left Mike. What he saw made him gawk. Mike was still sitting where Joe left him, but there were five canine mutants, all wearing expensive-looking suits, standing behind him. They were tall and had constant scowls on their faces. Every single one of them wore dog collars, the signature of a higher-ranking Nighthound. Mikes hands were up in the air, as all five mutants had guns pressed right up against his head. Mike gulped. Mike: U-um, Joe. I think the Nighthounds now know were here. Intermission IX The policeman stiffen up and started to walk awkwardly backward while staring at Lunar, who was growling at him. John just watched as Joe slowly walked backward with a terrified look. Must be scared of dogs. John thought, explaining away the officers'' otherwise odd actions. The cop eventually made it to the front door and exited the store without saying a word. Once the man was gone, Lunar stopped growling. The malamute then stared up at John wide-eyed with a loving look while panting with its tongue out. Expecting some sort of praise from John. John: Aww. You know when you make a face like that, I cant help but pet you, he said while aggressively petting the top of Lunar''s head. Lunar pushed himself into Johns hand while barking happily. The dog then rolled over to reveal his belly, expecting belly rubs. John then got on his knees and started to give the malamute belly rubs with both hands. A reward for scaring off that annoying cop. The fur all over Lunar was soft and well-groomed. It was a pleasure to touch. In a way, petting Lunar was also a reward for John as well. It was stress relieving after John encountered a stressful situation. John: But really, Ive been here for years and never seen a cop, he mumbled to himself. When John first came to this world, the police didnt come around very often, even before the Nighthound took over the east end. But, now that the gang is in control of the area, cops never come around anymore. This was the primary reason why John had never seen any police. However, he didnt know this. John didnt know that the Nighthounds were keeping police out of the area or that they were a criminal organization. He just thought they were some sort of massive conglomerate based out of the Red-light District. He''s come across countless businesses owned by them. So, John never had a reason to be that suspicious of them. It was a misconception about the Nighthounds that wasn''t unique to John. Many people didnt know about the gangs criminal activity, especially those who came from outside the city. On the surface, they look like massive corporation, but people who interacted with the Nighthounds from the old days knew what they really were like. They can be amenable, but ruthless when they have to be. The people who lived through the Bloody Days years ago knew exactly how violent the Nighthounds were. John: Ah, guess it was bound to meet one. But, man. That guy was annoying. I kept telling him I didnt know anything, and he wouldnt listen. Kept asking the same question over and over. Are all cops like that here? Nah, Im pretty sure my hunch of him trying to set me up was correct," he said followed by a sigh. "Well, good job scaring off that asshole, he said, praising Lunar. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Lunar: Woof! he barked happily. John kept petting Lunar until his arms got tired. He then stood back up sat back at his desk and started reading the manga from before Joe showed up. Well, let''s hope no more assholes walk through that front door. This Joe guy wasn''t the first to be sent packing, and likely wont be the last. John thought to himself while he read his manga. Fifteen minutes went by before John heard the front door of the shop open. John was worried that the annoying cop would come back. He looked up to see another familiar furry face. The man who walked through the door was a mutant. Specifically, a bear mutant. His head had all the features you would expect to see on a bear. Round ears, brown fur, and a snout with a wet nose. Beyond that, the rest of his body was humanoid, with him wearing a nice-looking vest and a red tie. He literally almost looked like a bear stuffed into nice human clothing. John: OH! Grizz. Its just you, he said, pleased to see the bear mutant. John was familiar with the mutant man. Grizz wasn''t so much of a customer. He was someone who worked for one of John''s regulars. A sort of butler. Every once in a while, coming into the shop to deliver a message to him. Grizz: Good afternoon to you as well Master Li, he said with a well-spoken but gruff voice. John: You know you dont have to be so formal. Weve known each other for a while now. Just call me by my first name. Grizz: If you say so, John. Anyways, is everything ok? John: Yeah? Why do you ask? Grizz: Oh, I saw a strange-looking fellow walk out of your shop while I was on the way to see you. I just wanted to make sure everything was fine. John: Oh, that dude, he said while thinking about his interaction with Joe. Yeah, there was something of a disagreement between me and that guy. But, everything is fine now. Lunar sent him packing, so it was all good." Grizz: Oh, what was the disagreement, if you dont mind me asking? John: He wouldnt listen and kept asking the same question over and over. It was annoying. So, I asked him to leave, and he wouldnt. Then Lunar managed to scare him off. Grizz: He was annoying you? he said with a look of surprise. Upon hearing that comment, the mutant bear man began to process what he heard. Similar to Scarlet, Luke, and many others before, he was adding a bunch more meaning to Johns words than there was. John: Yeah, but I think there is something more to it. He was a cop. Maybe trying to coax me into saying something that I shouldnt say. Not sure, but I dont trust cops. So if you see that guy again, Id steer clear of him. Grizz: I see, he said while deeply contemplating John''s words again. I guess were similar in our opinion of the police. John: Youre not a fan of the police either? Grizz: No. They used to harass me and my friends all the time. Just for us being mutants. John: Ah, I see. That sucks. Sorry to hear that, he said, feeling sympathetic toward Grizz. Grizz: Thank you. Im in a better place now. The police dont bother me as much anymore since I started working for my lady. Speaking of which, my lady wishes to know if you are available three days from now. She wants to treat you to lunch again. John: Oh, sure. Same place as before? he said without hesitation. Grizz just nodded. John: Then you can tell her Ill be there three days from now at twelve. Grizz: Very well. Ill be sure to convey what you said to her. The bear mutant gave a quick bow before quietly departing the Mystic Emporium. Chapter 63 - Second In Command Joe and Mike were being paraded through the middle of the street. Guns pointed at them, surrounded by Nighthound members. They had their weapons taken from them and were bound in cuffs. The cuffs the Nighthounds used were the jinsil cuffs that Joe and Mike carried around. Sealing their magic. So neither Joe nor Mike could use their magic to try and get away at this point. It was somewhat ironic that the cuffs the policemen carried around to capture mages were being used against the police now. They were currently walking through a main street in the Red-light District. Most of the establishments around were closed during the day at this hour. But, there were still a few restaurants open and some people walking around. The people walking around stopped what they were doing and stared at what was happening. The onlookers looked at both investigators. The people were both scared and curious about what was happening. Its been a long time since anyone living here saw the Nighthounds marching a man through the middle of the street with guns out. But, the older locals understood the significance. This was basically a funeral procession. To the onlookers, Joe and Mike were dead men walking. No one was going to help them. The people back at the police headquarters likely wont hear about this. The locals wont go against the Nighthounds, and they knew enough to keep their mouths shut about this. So not a single observer was going to report this to the police. And, even if they did, the police wouldnt send anyone to try and rescue Joe or Mike. Murdock wouldnt risk sparking another Bloody Days-like event to save Joe. This was the risk Joe understood when he came to the east end. If they got caught by the Nighthounds, he was on his own. It was sufficient to say that they were screwed. And, Joe knew this. One of the canine mutants pushing Joe forward pointed his gun upward and started firing shots into the air. Bang, bang, bang, the gun rang out. Some nearby people screamed at the loud noise. The mutant that did this started yelling out orders to the onlookers. Canine Mutant: This is Nighthounds business! So everyone, FUCK OFF!! he yelled Within seconds, the entire street cleared out. People ran into nearby buildings or alleyways, desperately trying to get away and out of sight. The entire street looked like a ghost town now. Fuck me. I knew the Nighthounds had complete control over the east end, but seeing it firsthand is still unbelievable. They really can do whatever they want here. Joe thought to himself. Canine Mutant: Get moving, you fucking pig! he shouted, shoving Joe forward. Joe just grunted and continued to walk forward like he was forced to. They continued walking for twenty minutes. During that entire time, Joe didnt see another person. It was like somehow the order that the canine mutant shouted out was heard by everyone in the Red-light District, and now everyone was steering clear, at least for a little while. They continued to walk forward until they started to approach the heart of the Red-light District. Where people were walking around again, but Joe was pretty sure that the people walking around were Nighthounds members. None of the people here seemed scared or surprised to see Joe and Mike being escorted by armed mutants. Past another building lit with neon lights was a massive skyscraper off in the distance. Joe knew intrinsically that that was where he and Mike were being taken to. The Night Tower. The Night Tower was the tallest building in the entire city. Constructed years ago by the Nighthounds to be their main base within the east end. The skyscraper stood at a staggering 2000 feet (600 meters). Serving as a testament to the wealth, power, and control that the Nighthounds possess here in the Red-light District. A local saying about the Night Tower was: The shadow of the tower covers the east. That saying never felt more true than now for Joe. He had never physically seen the tower up close before. As a cop, he never got near it. It would have been too dangerous otherwise. But now, he could see it for himself as they approached. He understood what people meant by that saying. I always knew it was big when I saw it off in the distance, but I didnt think it would be that massive up close. Im still quite far away too, and its size is so overwhelming. I bet it really does cast a shadow over a good chunk of the east end. That saying might be more literal. Joe thought to himself as they walked towards the Night Tower. ?????????????????? Mike and Joe were sitting in the reception area of the Night Tower. They were brought here and told to sit and wait, then left alone. They''ve been sitting here for twenty minutes now. On their way there and inside, they saw a countless number of people walking around in expensive-looking clothing wearing dog collars. No one here bat an eye at Joe or Mike being escorted into the Night Tower at gunpoint. From where he was sitting, Joe could see the front doors leading out of the building. He was trying to plan out some way of escaping, but it wasn''t looking good. Both men were left alone because every entrance in the reception room was guarded. Tall, gruff men in black suits stood by, armed and ready in case Joe or Mike tried anything. Joe thought that if he could get the jinsil cuffs off him, he might be able to break out of here. But, he knew that even in that scenario, his chance of escape wasn''t good. Even if he and Mike managed to get out of the Night Tower, they were still in the heart of Nighthounds territory. The countless Nighthounds walking around the street would open fire and pepper them with bullets. And, while the wards they both could conjure would stop a few bullets, a barrage was out of the question. This was the kind of situation that Joe thought not even an archmage could get out of. Joe: How the fuck did we get caught? he said, turning to Mike. Mike: They snuck up to me and put a gun to my head. I didnt have a chance to respond. Joe: Thats not what I''m asking. They called me a pig. How do they know were police? Were not carrying anything on us that would identify us as cops. Did you tell them? Mike: No. I didnt say anything. They didnt ask anything from me either. Just told me not to move. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Joe: Ugh. Mike: Tell me you have a plan? Joe: Im working on it. Another twenty minutes went by before the doors to a nearby elevator opened and three large canine mutant men walked out. All three wore matching dog collars. They looked around the reception area before their gaze landed on both Joe and Mike. One of the mutants walked them over to them. Mutant Man: Get up. Kyle will see you now, he ordered. Both officers did as they were ordered. They stood up and walked into the elevator with the three mutants. Once inside, one of the mutants pulled out a key and pushed it into the car control, then turned it. The doors closed, and Joe felt the rapid acceleration of the elevator push down on him as they ascended. As they approached the 100th floor, the elevator slowed down before coming to a complete stop. The elevator doors opened once again to reveal long red carpet hallways. The walls of the hall were covered in expensive-looking art pieces. Joe and Mike were shoved forward by the mutant men behind them. Mutant Man: Keep walking straight. The group kept walking forward until a weird individual walked around the corner and intercepted them. The man wore a nice suit, similar to the many people that the officers saw in this building. He was bald and didnt look like a mutant, but he wore a similar collar to all the other mutants Joe had seen so far. His face was completely covered in piercings. Every facial piercing one could imagine, this guy had it, and then some. Some of the piercings he had looked particularly painful by the way they pulled at his skin. A cold sweat started to form on the back of Joes neck. For he knew who this man was, and it was making him nervous. Samson, The Sadist. Joe had seen his picture before and was warned about this man. He was a top member of the Nighthounds. A de facto torturer and a kinda fixer of the crime syndicate. He was a cruel man who delighted in torturing any and all enemies of the Nighthounds. Its what earned him the title of The Sadist'''' amongst the gang. The senior investigator recalled some of the photos of the corpses of people who got caught by Samson, and it was bad. It made Joe shudder. Seeing this man here didnt bode well for either Mike or Joe. Samson: What do we have here? he said, interested in the two men before him. Mutant Man: Just some nosy cops were taking to Kyle. Samson: Some pigs, huh. Well, why dont you hand them over to me. Ill make sure these piggys squeal. He, he, he, he, laughing ominously. Joe was worried that they were going to be handed over to Samson. The reports he read about Samson suggested the man was insane. Impossible to reason with. Joes only plan of action right now was to try and talk his way out of this, and he couldnt do that with Samson. Mutant Man: I can''t do that, unfortunately. Samson: Oh, cmon. Why bother Kyle with this? Hes a busy man, you know, he said with a disturbing smile. Mutant Man: They were snooping around Eld Street. And, they met him, and managed to annoy him apparently. Samson''s smile quickly turned into an expression of shock. He then looked back and forth between Joe and Mike while trying to process what he heard. Samson: You two were in the Mystic Emporium? AND, you annoyed the owner? How are you two not already dead? Mutant Man: Thats why were taking them to Kyle. Samson let out a disappointed sigh. Samson: OK. Let Kyle know I''m off to Loffa for business then. Oh, before I go. Let me take a souvenir. Samson grabbed Joes head by the hair and flipped out a knife from his pocket. He held the blade up to the side of the officer''s head and looked like he was about to cut off an ear. Joe struggled but couldnt free himself from the insane sadist''s grip. Before Joe''s ear was cut off, one of the mutants behind him shouted out. Mutant Man: SAMSON! Kyle orders we''re to bring them to him, UNSPOILED! Samson: Why!?! Theyre fucked anyways. Mutant Man: You wanna go against Kyle, be my guest. Samson: Auggggg. Fiiiiine. Guess I''ll just butcher some fish cultists extra hard while Im in Loffa, to make up for not getting to cut up some bacon, he said while letting Joe go and putting his blade back in his pocket. Samson immediately lost interest in the two men and walked by them towards the elevator they came from, not bothering to give them another glance. Joe grabbed the side of his head where the blade was pushed near. Making sure he wasn''t bleeding or anything. Besides losing a few hairs from the blade coming so close to his head, Joe didnt seem any worse for wear. Not giving any moment for Joe or Mike to get a breath, the mutant canine men pushed them forward. They walked by several closed doors and more expensive-looking art pieces. Joe couldnt help but feel something eerie going on. He thought there might be at least some guards standing around, like there were in the reception area, but there was no one. I guess they dont expect anyone to make it this far. So they dont bother with guards here. But, still. My gut is telling me something off about it all.Joe thought to himself. They eventually came upon a large, unmarked mahogany door carved with an integrated design upon it. One of the mutants behind Joe reached out and knocked on the door. ???: You may enter, a deep voice called out behind the door. One of the three mutant men opened the door and then shoved both officers into the room. As they entered, the room appeared to be a massive office with expensive-looking artwork adorning the walls. Opposite the entrance, there was a giant fixed glass window that covered the entire side of the room and offered a breathtaking view of the city. Near that window, a large mahogany desk was placed, and behind it sat a man engrossed in reading some papers. The man was a mutant with canine features. He had short black and brown fur, pointed ears, and a head resembling that of a Doberman. He was dressed in a stylish suit with a blue tie that was all meant to make him look slimmer, but it did little to conceal his large muscles that bulged against the fabric. The Doberman mutant had broad shoulders and an incredibly imposing, muscular physique. Joe couldnt help but gulp once he saw this person. This was Kyle Feris. Also known as Iron Fist Kyle. The second in command of the Nighthounds. Mutant Man: Brought the two that were messing around on Eld Street like you asked, boss. Kyle: Good, but order of operations first. I have to deal with that little shit first before I deal with those two. So, have them take a seat and wait, he said, never looking away from the paper he was reading. Joe took this opportunity to try and talk to Kyle. The senior investigator heard that despite being second in command of the Nighthounds, Kyle wasn''t that bloodthirsty of an individual. He was hoping to try and reason with the Doberman mutant. Joe: Kyle, I can explain he said, before getting cut off. Kyle: I didnt say you could speak. One of the mutants behind Joe grabbed him and punched him right in the gut. Joe: Gaaah! he cried out before collapsing on the ground due to sheer pain. Mike: Joe! Ughh! he cried out before also getting beaten. Another mutant had grabbed Mike and done the same thing, resulting in both officers on the ground moaning in pain. After that, the Nighthounds mutants dragged them by the collars of their clothing across the floor before forcing them to sit in chairs that were placed off to the side. They were practically thrown into those chairs and landed with an audible thud. The impact made the bruises they received sting a little more. Both sat there, slightly bruised and battered. The officers stood by, waiting for Kyle to finish whatever he was doing. The atmosphere was charged with unspoken tension, and neither dared to speak until Kyle chose to acknowledge them. Ugh, just cause he is not bloodthirsty doesn''t mean hes not brutal. Better keep that in mind. Cause if were lucky enough to walk away with our lives, that doesn''t mean he wont still break our legs. Joe thought to himself while rubbing his abdomen a little to relieve some of the pain that lingered from the beating. Fifteen minutes went by in absolute silence. The mutants that guided Joe and Mike here stood beside them the entire time. They were waiting for them to make a sound so that they would have an excuse to start beating them again. Kyle, during this entire time, didnt even bother to look at the officers. Eventually, the door to the office swung open. Two large, brutish men walked inside, dragging a person who was bound and had a sack over his head. One of the mutant Nighthounds members grabbed an empty chair beside Joe and walked over to Kyle, placing the seat in front of the table. The bound person was then deposited in the seat before the sack was removed, and all the Nighthounds members went back to standing at the side of the room. Joe moved his head to try and see who it was and then saw those familiar almost rat-like features. It was Cory, the one who told Joe about John on Eld Street. And, he looked worse for wear. He had a black eye and there was a little bit of blood dripping down the side of his face. Clearly, he was beaten to an inch of his life before arriving here. Kyle: Nice that you could finally join us, Cory. Chapter 64 - Dead Rat
Cory looked dazed. The black eye suggested he was hit in the head and may be suffering a concussion. The beaten rat-like man looked up and saw Kyle sitting right in front. His expression turned to one of fear as he started to frantically look around to see where he was. The Nighthound mutts eyes eventually landed on Joe and Mike. Joe and Corys eyes met. Cory had a moment of confusion before turning to anger. Cory: You fucked me, Joe! You fucked us both! he screamed out in rage, blaming Joe for the current situation he found himself in. Kyle: Still blaming others for your own fuck ups? Everyone in the room turned and looked at Kyle. The Doberman mutant had finally put down the paper he was reading. He rested his head against his fist while looking at Cory with an amused, if somewhat disinterested look. Cory: K-K-Kyle. I c-can explain, he said, stuttering with fear. Kyle: Please, by all means. I want to hear your excuse. Cory: T-They came to me for information. I-I didnt know t-they were cops, he lied, trying to save himself while throwing Joe under the bus. Kyle''s expression didnt change. The Nighthound leader turned his head toward one of the grunts standing by and made a small gesture by craning his neck to the side. The mutant subordinates walked up to Cory and punched him right in the jaw. Cory grunted, spat up some blood from the impact, and fell out of his chair. The person who punched him picked Cory back up and shoved him back into the chair facing Kyle. Joe and Mike watched this and almost felt sorry for Cory. Kyle: You''re a shit liar, Cory. That beating ya got earlier clearly didnt knock any sense in ya, or make you better at lying. We never told you we knew they were cops, so how did you know? Now how about you be honest for once in your fucking life. Cory groaned in pain a little bit before finally speaking again. Cory: I-I-I knew they were cops Kyle: Oh, finally some honesty, he said sarcastically. And, what did you tell them? Cory: T-they wanted to know info about Rob and about some people who lived on Vaal Street Kyle: And, what else did they ask? Cory turned his head to look at Joe with a scared look, before turning back to Kyle. He took a deep breath and resigned himself to whatever was about to happen. Cory: Theyasked about the keeper of secretsandI told them about the red-eyed man in the antique shop on Eld Street. Kyle: Hmm. That was more honest than I expected, he said, as if he was anticipating Cory would say something else. Cory: P-please Kyle. I can explain. I didnt steal that information. The computer I was using bugged out and I got accidental access to that file. Kyle: I know. Cory: You know? he said, sounding confused. Kyle: Yeah, cause someone as incompetent as you would never have been able to acquire that level of secret info. The only explanation is a mistake on our end that were currently in the process of fixing. Cory: Then you know I didnt mean to Kyle: You still read it. It should have been obvious you werent supposed to read it and that you needed to report this. Something you didnt do. Cory: Please, Kyle. I didnt want to tell them, but they made me. Kyle: And how did they make you? Cory: They threatened me. They said they would leak all my wrongdoing while I was with the Skullcrusher, and throw me into jail unless I told them about the Keeper of Secrets. Joe wanted to call bullshit on what was being said, but didnt feel safe doing so at the moment. Cory was lying. He had only threatened to leak that information if he tried to attack Joe. He didnt force Cory to say anything he couldnt tell him. Kyle: You know we could have protected you from the cops, if thats what youre worried about. Cory: I-I didnt want to trouble anyone in the gang. Kyle: I see," he said followed by long sigh. "Im bored of this. Get him out of my sight and put this mutt down, he said while gesturing toward two of the grunts in the room. Two big burly Nighthound mutant men grabbed Cory and started dragging him toward the entrance of the office. The mutt struggled and started screaming as he was taken away. Cory: PLEASE NO!! Please, Kyle! Dont do this! Ive been nothing but loyal to the Nighthounds! he yelled. Upon hearing that last part of what Cory said, one of Kyle''s pointed dog ears flicked. Kyle: Wait. Bring him back. The two henchmen carrying Cory turned to look back at Kyle briefly before doing what they were told. They brought Cory back to face Kyle while shoving him back into the seat he was sitting in. Cory: T-thank y-you. Ill do anything you want. J-just give me one more chance. Kyle: One more chance, huh. Let me ask you something. Why do you think you''re in this position?" Cory: B-because I shared classified information with a cop. Kyle: No. That was just the straw that broke the rock-goats back. You say youre loyal, yet you have been anything but. Thats the real reason youre in this position. Cory: B-but I-I gave up everything when I betrayed the Skullcrusher. Isn''t that he was interrupted by a loud banging sound. Kyle had smashed his fist into the desk he was sitting at with enough force that it splintered the wood, leaving an imprint of his fist in it. The doberman mutant was now bearing his teeth and looked pissed. Kyle: STOP FUCKING LYING TO ME!! Youve been lying this whole fucking time! Right to my face, me, of all people! You think I dont know that Rob asked you to infiltrate us by pretending to betray the Skullcrusher. How were you a double agent when you joined us. Cory: Uh, uh. H-how did Kyle: We knew from the beginning! We just acted like we didnt know anything while feeding you bad info that you gave to Rob back then. Cory went wide-eyed. He was completely shocked that the Nighthounds knew he was once a snitch for Rob the entire time. Kyle: Once Rob was out of the picture, we decided to continue to do nothing about you. Thinking that maybe you might become a proper Nighthound. Yet, you disappointed us every step of the way. You disgrace our reputation, cause trouble for our other members, and abuse the tiny privileges we gave to you when we pretended to accept your betrayal of the Skullcrushers. And, the biggest cardinal sin, youre constantly betraying us! Cory: N-no! I-I Kyle: How about you also explain why youre selling info to cultists! You know it is strictly forbidden for anyone in the Nighthounds to work with anybody from Nameless Cults. It is considered outright betrayal to do so. Yet, you were constantly selling info to those fish freaks in Loffa! Cory sat there in silence while shaking in fear. Looking even more scared than he had before. Everything Kyle said must be dead on. Otherwise, Cory would try and create an excuse. But, Cory is not saying anything now. I didnt think he would be stupid enough to try to sell info to a cult. Joe silently thought to himself. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. There were a lot of things about the Nighthounds that Joe didnt like about them, but he respected that they didnt seem to work with cultists. There were crime syndicates who had no issue with working alongside cults devoted to the Nameless Gods, as long as they received payment for their services, enabling those cults to carry out their nefarious plans. Fortunately, Nighthounds was not one of those types of criminal organizations. For whatever reason, the Nighthounds didnt like them and were quite murderous when it came to cultism a lot of the time. Every once in a rare while, the Nighthounds would drop a body off somewhere near the police headquarters. The body that was dropped off had evidence on them to prove that they were indeed cultists. It was a reality that Murdock made everyone on the force keep secret. Trying to avoid average people from starting to see the Nighthounds as some sort of good guy group going around and killing cultists. Cory is beyond stupid if he really was selling information to a cult. Joe silently thought to himself. Kyle: Hm, nothing to say? We only kept you around to continue to feed bad info to the cult of the Deep Ones. The info you were selling them was actually trash, which made tracking them easier for us. But, now thats run its course. You''re now costing us too much by giving away classified information that wasn''t meant to be shared. Kyle finally stood up, revealing his height. The Doberman mutant was extremely tall. Standing slightly under seven feet (2.12 meters). He walked around the desk and stood right in front of Cory, looming ominously. Joe was getting a bad feeling. Kyle: You asked for a second chance, but you used up all those chances a long time ago. Cory: Pleeeeease! I-I dont want to die, he cried, tears of fear running down his face. It happened quickly. If you blinked, you would have missed it. At blinding speed, Kyle punched Cory square in the face. The impact was unimaginably strong, enough so that the mutts neck couldnt handle the strain and keep his head attached. Just like that, Corys head was ripped off his body and sent flying across the room. All from the force of a single punch. Blood suddenly shot out the remains of Corys neck like a gory fountain for a few seconds before his body collapsed to the side. Joe and Mikes mouths were agape at what they just saw. It was well known that Kyle was a professional boxer on the side and a twelve-time champion of the Super Heavyweight Mutant League. He also had a reputation for sometimes killing his opponents in the ring. But, despite his overwhelming skill at boxing and his massive bulk, Joe still couldnt believe Kyle was strong enough to punch a mans head clean off his body. Yet that was what he just did. Joe looked towards where Corys head landed. The skull had collapsed around where Kyle had hit Cory, leaving his face smashed in and recognizable. Not bloodthirsty, my ass! Joe silently disparaged the report he read that told him that Kyle wasn''t homicidal. Joes plan of trying to talk his way out of this with Kyle wasn''t looking so good. He had killed Cory right in front of both officers without a second thought. A man who was willing to kill someone else with such disregard didnt seem like someone you could easily reason with. The senior officer was hoping that maybe both of them could walk away with only some broken bones. But, that slim possibility was becoming slimmer in Joe''s mind now. Kyle: Clean this mess up, he ordered out. Two of the grunts standing by walked up and collected Corys remains. One of them grabbed the decapitated head by the hair while the other grabbed Cory''s body by the feet. They dragged the remains out of the room while leaving a bloody trail behind them. No one besides Joe and Mike seemed bothered by this. Someone just died, and there was no visible reaction by the Nighthounds here. Everyone else was acting as if this was normal. Kyle pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and used it to wipe off a little bit of blood that got on his fist and then sat back down in his chair behind his desk. Kyle: Ok. Now I''ll deal with those two, he said, as he gestured for Joe and Mike to be brought over. Both Mike and Joe were grabbed by their arms and forced onto their feet by two of the three grunts standing near them. The third grunt standing grabbed two new chairs and placed them in front of Kyle''s desk, where Mike and Joe were forced to sit. Now sitting directly in front of Kyle, Joe couldnt help but gulp. The senior officer briefly looked down to see blood smears from Corys decapitation right under both officers'' feet. Oh, Light. Were not going to end up like Cory, are we? Joe silently prayed that wouldn''t be the case. Kyle: Now, what should I do with you two? Both officers briefly looked at each other before looking back at Kyle. Mike felt he was a better talker than Joe, so he took the initiative. Mike: W-we can explain Kyle: I still havent said you could speak. One of Kyle''s subordinates standing by immediately sucker-punched Mike in the jaw, managing to knock out one of his teeth. Mike was about to fall out of his seat before he was grabbed by another henchman and forced to sit back up straight. Mike''s face now had a nasty bruise that was swelling while blood was dripping from the corner of his mouth. Kyle: Under normal circumstances, I would have just handed you over to Samson and let him deal with you. However, the information you got your hands on complicates things. After what Kyle said, there was a brief pause in the conversation, as if the Nighthound leader was expecting Mike or Joe to say something. However, neither officer wasn''t going to fall for it. They both knew if they said something, Kyle would have his grunts beat them again. Kyle: Hmm, smart. I guess I should have expected that from the great Joe Striker. You may speak now. Joe: You know who I am? Kyle: Yes, and its the only reason you are alive at this point. Joe: Huh? W-why? Kyle: You can thank Romilly Osborn for that. One of the victims of that murder was the daughter of an executive in our organization. That member vouched for you and asked we dont harm you. As a sort of repayment for being the investigator to catch that murder. It is why we havent done anything against you. It seemed that investigations into Romilly''s serial murders were helping Joe in some way with Kyle. However, the idea that the Nighthound didnt do anything against them seemed laughable. Joe turned his head toward Mike to see that the bruise on his face had swollen even more in the few seconds since he was punched. Kyle raised an eyebrow and seemed to know what both officers were thinking. Kyle: This is because of the information shared by Cory. Prior to that, we did not do anything to harm you. Didnt you find it kind of strange that you could walk right into the Red-light District without any problems? Joe: Then you guys knew the entire time. Kyle: Yup. We know about you keeping that investigation with Rob going, you snooping around Vaal Street with that apprentice detective of yours, and when you came to the Red-Light district to get info. All so you can figure out who murdered Rob. Motivated by some sort of weird sense of justice. Joe was surprised to hear about how much the Nighounds knew. He understood their information gathering was said to be legendary, but seeing it on display with what Kyle was saying was something else. Hearing Robs name, Joe''s inquisitive nature couldnt help but ask about him. Joe: Does that mean you know who killed him? Kyle: Pft, no. Dont even know if it was a murder like you suspect. I dont know how or why that fucker died and dont care. He wasn''t a threat to us anymore since the Skullcrushers disbanded. Thats why we let you ask around for information on Rob. Because this has nothing to do with us and doesn''t affect the Nighthounds either way. This was a good piece of information that Joe managed to get. For a while now, he was worried that the Nighthounds were somehow involved in Robs death. The Nighthounds and Skullcrushers were rival gangs back in the day fighting with each other. They fought and killed each other''s members during the Bloody Days. So, the Nighthounds had a lot of reasons for wanting Rob dead. But, Kyles comment seemed to confirm they weren''t involved. It made the investigation into Rob so much easier. Joe knew that if the Nighthounds were responsible for killing Rob, there was nothing he could do about it. They had too much power. But, if it wasn''t them, there was still a possibility he could bring the murderer to justice. Joe knew if he could get out of this situation alive, this would help him figure out who killed Rob. Kyle: You investigating Rob and even asking around the east end wasn''t the issue. Its the info Cory told you about the guy with red eyes on Eld Street. That was a level of classified information that was never to be told to ANYONE. And yet, you two were unlucky enough to hear about it, thanks to fucking Cory. Mike: W-with all due respect. We weren''t necessarily asking for that kind of info. We just wanted to talk to an expert on curses, he said with slightly slurred speech caused by the swelling in his jaw. Kyle: I know. In a fair world, you two would bear no responsibility for this. But, this is not a fair world. And, Im required to kill anyone who learned about John through our information network. Upon hearing that, the Nighthound lackeys around Joe and Mike cracked their knuckles. They were preparing for Kyle''s order to kill them. Joe started to panic. Kyle seemed intent on killing them both from the very start. His last desperate attempt at trying to talk seemed pointless. There was no way to talk his way out of this. He and Mike were going to be killed. The officer started to struggle against his binding, seeing that his only chance now was to get the jinsil cuffs off and try to run for it. Kyle: Thats why Im at an impasse. Im technically supposed to kill you, and at the same time Im not. Both officers looked at Kyle, confused. Joe stopped struggling against his binding to ask what the Doberman mutant was talking about. Joe: Whats that supposed to mean? Kyle: If you found the Mystic Emporium on your own and entered and left, were not supposed to harm you. However, you found it because of our information; therefore, we should kill you. And yet, you already met John and managed to walk away unharmed. Which means something. I don''t know what, but it''s something. So maybe Im not supposed to kill you. I also heard you managed to upset that guy as well, which is also a first for me. That might be an indication that Im supposed to kill you as well. And now, I dont know how to proceed. Do I kill you? Do I let you two live? Do I go halfway and break your limbs? Joe: I dont know what this guy is to you, but we promise not to tell anything about him to anyone else. John didnt tell me anything, either. You can go ask him yourself. So please, spare us, he begged while bowing his head as a sign of respect. Kyle: Hmm. Kyle leaned back and crossed his arms as he was in deep contemplation. The mutant doberman was debating the fate of the two officers in front of him. Suddenly, a mutant with a giant bird beak where his mouth should have been rushed into the room. Bird Beak Mutant: Sir! I have an urgent message! Kyle: Cant you see Im busy! Bird Beak Mutant: Its from the boss. Kyle: Oh, he said, deflating all the surrounding tension around him. What is it? The Nighthound who entered walked up to Kyle and started to whisper something in his ear. Neither Mike nor Joe heard what was being said, but they saw Kyles eyes suddenly go wide before the mutant who just arrived pulled away from him. The Night Hound mutant, with a bird beak, politely bowed to Kyle and quietly left the room. Kyle had a distant look to him, like he was in deep thought, before turning back to the officer in front of him. Kyle: It turns out youre pleading with the wrong person. I guess the Nightqueen will see you two now. Chapter 65 - The Nightqueen At the mention of the Nightqueen, the three other mutants that guided Joe and Mike to Kyle''s office looked nervous. Those three weren''t fazed when Kyle killed Cory. So why does mentioning the Nightqueen make them so nervous? Joe thought to himself. "The Nightqueen'''' is a mysterious woman who emerged eleven years ago and established the Nighthounds gang. No one knows her origin or how she managed to gather such a large number of followers so quickly. However, one thing is certain - she became the indisputable leader of the Golgatta underworld and formed the strongest criminal organization ever to exist in the history of the Western continent. Very few people have laid eyes on her. Even the police have no photographs of her and only rely on second-hand descriptions of what she looks like from other people. It seemed like Joe and Mike were about to become one of the rare cops to meet her, which didn''t bode well. No living cop had ever seen the Nightqueen, and there was a reason for that. Cops who meet her tend to go missing afterward. Joe didnt need to be a genius to figure out what happened to those policemen. Kyle: You two are really unlucky. You managed to walk away from John alive after annoying him, only to end up meeting my boss. Hmm. Shell make you wish I had killed you here. I would have made it quick, like Cory. Shell take her time, he said as he stood up from his chair. Kyle made a gesture to his subordinates while walking past them and out of his office. The Nighthounds lackeys grabbed Joe and Mike, pulling them onto their feet, and made them follow behind Kyle. As they exited the hallway, Joe couldn''t help but look down from where they came. He could see a trail of blood from when they dragged Corys body out of the room, leading to the elevator that they originally came from. They ended up going the opposite way, deeper into the Night Tower. Walking even deeper into enemy territory, Joe couldnt help but notice a strange feeling. It was as if they were being watched. But, he didnt know where or why. He only got that feeling in the hallway and not while inside Kyle''s office, and it was getting stronger as they went deeper. Joe finally realized it wasn''t just a feeling of being watched, but unease. It wasn''t the same unease he felt with John or Rob. That feeling from John was more like a warning, and Rob was just murderous. This sensation was like walking through a dark forest while being watched by unseen creatures in the shadows that could be either harmless or dangerous. That was the kind of anxiety he was feeling. Even the senior officer could tell that the lackeys walking beside him could feel it, based on their expressions. Kyle turned his head while walking to look behind himself at everyone following him. He seemed to have noticed the troubled expressions of his subordinates. Kyle: You three best get used to this, or you wont be able to handle meeting Madam Allara. Mutant Man: Y-Yes sir, only one of the lackeys responded. Who''s madam Allara? I don''t recall that name ever being mentioned in the Nighthounds reports Ive read. And, what does he mean by getting used to it? Is this feeling of unease normal here? Joe silently thought to himself. They continued to walk through the long hallway and up the stairwell into another hallway. While following Kyle, Joe encountered a few more members of the Nighthounds syndicate, some of whom he recognized from reports as high-ranking members. However, unlike Samson, none of these members stopped to talk to Joe. They just gave him a curious look and went about their business. Eventually, they came upon massive double stone doors at least fifteen feet in height (4.5 meters). It was extravagant and had beautiful lion designs on them that appeared to be gold-encrusted. And, with how wealthy the Nighthounds were, it was probably real gold. The door looked heavy and would be difficult to open for a single person. Kyle: Hey boss! Its me, Kyle! I brought the two guys like you asked! he yelled out. Ten seconds went by with no one daring to say anything. Suddenly, and without warning, both doors slowly started to open outward by themselves. The doors opened up to reveal a big round table that could seat up to thirty people. There was no one currently inside. On one side of the room was a giant fixed glass window that had a stunning view similar to Kyle''s office. Opposite the window was an unmanned bar that had a bunch of expensive bottles of liquor on the shelves. Behind the large round table on the opposite to the entrance of the room was another, but smaller, gilded door. The group entered inside. As they passed the threshold, the doors suddenly closed behind them. Joe looked closely at the doors to try and figure out the mechanism that allowed them to open and close, but didnt notice anything obvious as the doors fully closed, sealing him and Mike in this room. Kyle: You two, sit," he said while pointing to some chairs at the table. Both Mike and Joe did as they were told and took a seat where Kyle pointed. Across the table from them was a chair that seemed bigger and more grand than any of the other seats at the table, clearly meant for someone like the Nightqueen to sit at. Kyle then turned his back to Joe and Mike and started to talk to his subordinates. Kyle: While we wait, you three can help yourselves to the bar. Its stocked with some pretty nice shit. Mutant Man: Um, sir, is that OK? Kyle: Thats what it is there for. I know you three are still relatively new to your rank and still not completely used to the upper levels yet. So, relax a bit until the boss shows up. As soon as Joe noticed that none of the other Nighthounds were paying him any attention, he began to work on his jinsil cuff. Joe had been working on getting his cuffs off discreetly ever since he was captured. He had a paperclip in his pocket, which the Nighthounds hadnt bothered to take when they searched him, and he was using that to try and pick the lock on the cuffs Kyle: Oh, and in the scenario you manage to get those cuffs off you and cast a spell here, youll be wishing for death. Because you''ll get the attention of someone very nasty, he said, clearly addressed to Joe, but without looking at him. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Joe immediately stopped what he was doing and tried to hide away the paperclip he had before anybody saw it. He then looked at Kyle, who still had his back turned to him. Did he know what I was doing this whole time? And, what does he mean by attracting the attention of someone nasty? I thought the worst person in the Nighthounds was Samson. But, I heard him say he was heading out of town to Loffa. So, who is he talking about? Is he talking about the Nightqueen herself? Joe wondered silently to himself. The three lackeys turned to look at Joe with a murderous glare. Kyle: You three forget it. The boss will handle those two. Kyle walked past the other three mutants to the bar, where he picked up a bottle off the shelf and began to pour himself a drink. The three subordinates looked between themselves before following after Kyle and getting themselves a drink as well. It seemed that no one from the Nighthounds side was paying attention to the detectives anymore. Mike turned to Joe and started speaking. Mike: I just wanted you to know. It was an honor serving with you. Joe: Shut it. Were not dead yet. If you have time to say that, start using that noggin of yours. Mike: OK then. How about I told you so. Joe: Actually, Id prefer it if you didnt. Mike: No. Were in this mess because of you. I told you we shouldnt have come to the east, but you didnt listen. Now were going to die. Joe: Thats not guaranteed yet. We might be able to talk our way out still." Mike: Still? Do you hear yourself? Was your entire plan to try and reason with Kyle, cause that didn''t work. Those reports on him being the least homicidal of the Nighthounds were bullshit. And, now we''re meeting the NIGHTQUEEN, he said while emphasizing the term Nightqueen. No cop thats met with her ever returns. You and I know what that means, he said, not caring if any other Nighthounds in the room heard him. Joe: Look. I''m not going to debate with you about Joe was interrupted by the sound of doors opening. The door on the other side of the room opened up and two individuals walked out. One of them looked to be a bear mutant wearing fine clothing. Walking beside the bear mutant was a beauty with long white hair. The woman wore a long, shoulderless, black and white silk gown in the Eastern continent style. The part of the dress with the black accents had intricate gold embroidery with flowers woven all over. The top of her head had two pointed white fluffy fox ears, and behind her were nine huge white fluffy fox tails, so large they could be seen from her front. She had a perfectly normal, attractive human face and only appeared to have fur on her ears and tails. She was a mostly human-looking mutant with a few animal traits of an arctic fox, but she also had the peculiar trait of multiple tails. Neither officer had ever seen her before, but the second hand reports they read about the Nighthound leader matched every detail they saw. This was Yin Whitetail, The Nightqueen. Joe briefly looked at his side to see what Kyle and his three subordinates were doing. The three lackeys were staring intensely at the Yin, while Kyle casually sipped his drink, not really paying attention. Yin walked over to the table, and the bear mutant pulled out a chair for her. She then took a seat and stared across the table at Joe with a neutral expression that the senior officer couldnt read. Yin: So you''re the one, huh? Joe: Um, miss. I can explain everything he was cut off mid-sentence again by Yin raising her hand, indicating for him to stop speaking. Joe already got beaten for speaking when they didnt want to hear him. So he complied and closed his mouth really quickly. The bear mutant came up to Yin''s side and whispered something into her ear before backing away. Joe didnt hear what was said. Yin: I understand you annoyed John. How did you manage that? Joe gulped. He was trying to choose his words carefully. He knew what he said right now might determine their fate. Joe: I-It wasnt purposeful. I didnt insult him or anything. I think I said something he didnt like. Yin: And, what did you say? Joe: I asked him if he knew anything about curses or where I could find more information about them. Yin: Curses, huh. I can see why he might get annoyed by such insinuations. Insinuations? Was asking about curses really that insulting? The information I got said the guy on Eld street had all kinds of obscure and powerful magical knowledge. Questions about curses shouldnt have been that strange for such a guy. Unless I''m missing something? Joe quietly thought to himself. Joe: I-Im not sure I understand. Yin: You dont need to understand. Now, onto what is to be done about you. Joe: Please, well do anything, he said while bowing his head. Mike also bowed his head along with Joe. Yin just looked at both officers with her expression unchanged. Yin: Stop with the begging. I dont care for it. Ill cut straight to the point; Im not going to kill either of you. Mike: Youre not? he said, surprised. Yin: No. You two know some very interesting people. They called in a whole lot of favors to keep you two breathing. Otherwise, between learning about John through our network and pissing him off, I would have encased your feet in cement and thrown you two into the Golgottia River. Who is she talking about? Who''s the one she''s referring to? Is it that executive Kyle mentioned earlier, or is it someone else? Damn it. I want to know, but I get the feeling she wont say. I also need to limit how many questions I ask in this situation. She said she wont kill us now, but that could change if I say something she doesn''t like. Joe surmised. Joe was being extra cautious. He already pissed off John today with what he said, and that seemed to be partly the reason why hes in this mess. He didnt want to piss off the Nightqueen with careless words. Joe: Does that mean we can go? Yin: I suppose. I only asked Kyle to bring you here so I could see your faces. But, there are three things I want to make very clear. First, if you tell anybody anything you saw today or where to find John, I will unleash my hounds to hunt you two down to the ends of the world. Is that clear? Both Joe and Mike nodded their heads. Yin: Good. Second, you will be permitted to come and go from the east end as long as you stay out of our business. Be thankful. Youre the only cops in this city with such privileges. Joe''s eyes widened in surprise. This was so much better than he expected. He knew Yin said she would spare them, but he thought it was a situation where they would kick them out of the east end and tell them to never return. However, it seems like the Nightqueen was going to allow them to continue their investigations, even if it took them to the east. Yin: Oh, and dont let this tiny privilege go to your head. There are plenty of people in the East who are not directly associated with us and hate cops. Were not obliged to stop them if they try something against you. So keep that in mind. So, I guess I still cant go around the east saying I''m a cop. I wasn''t going to do that anyway. Joe silently thought to himself. Yin: And thirdly, It should also go without saying. If we ever see either of you two on Eld Street again, those privileges and my mercy I have given to you will be retracted, and I will make good on that promise of throwing you two into the river. Joe: Understood. If thats everything, well take our leave, he said, trying to end this conversation and get out of here as soon as possible. Yin: Well, almost everything, she said with a sly smile. It wouldnt do for you to leave here without facing some consequences. She then turned her head and addressed the people that were standing by the bar, drinking. Boys, rough these two up a bit and then dump them somewhere outside our territory. Immediately after that order, the three grunts that came with Kyle put down the drinks they were sipping on and started to approach the officers. Joe and Mike started to panic. Joe: You said you wouldnt harm us! he yelled out. Yin: I didnt say that. Your benefactor only asked me not to kill you; they didnt say anything about beating you to a pulp. Joe was surrounded. The grunts chuckled and cracked their knuckles. The last thing Joe would remember from this interaction was a fist flying into his face. (Author''s Note: Man, this was such a long time coming. I hinted at her all the way back in chapter 6. Now I finally get to introduce Yin! ??) Chapter 66 - Relationships
In a grandiose meeting room near the top of the Night Tower. Joe and Mikes unconscious, beaten bodies were being lunged over the shoulder of two grunts. They carried them outside the room, while the third lackey made a bowing motion towards Yin and Kyle before following behind the others that left. Yin, Kyle, and the bear mutant known as Grizz were left alone in the meeting room. Kyle was still by the bar, sipping on a glass full of ice and whiskey that looked like it was from an extremely expensive bottle. The doberman mutant then got up, taking the bottle and glass with him, and walked over towards Yin as she sat and casually sat right beside her. He then put his elbow on the table and rested his head against his hand while spinning around the ice in his glass. He looked dejected. Kyle let out a long sigh. Kyle: Why does everyone think Im a pushover? Yin: I don''t believe people think you''re a pushover. Kyle: Yet, I get little shits like Cory thinking they can fuck with me and lie to my face. Yin: Well, you do have that reputation of not killing people. It makes others think they can talk their way out of it with you. Which never actually works. Kyle: I literally just killed Cory less than an hour ago. Yin: That was the exception, not the rule. You dont have a reputation like Samson when it comes to this kind of stuff. Kyle: No one has a reputation like Samson, he let out a deep sigh.Does that mean I have to become a murderous freak like him? I dont want to kill people if I dont have to. Yin: And that is perfectly fine. That''s what I like about you. There are plenty of brutal people out there and even within the Nighthounds that could be my right-hand man, but I prefer to have you standing by my side. I dont need someone who thinks every problem is a nail that can be fixed with a hammer. Kyle: If you say so he said, not entirely believing what Yin was saying Yin: Oh, dont be like that. You''re still very intimidating, but not so much that people wont talk to you. You are the perfect negotiator. There is no one else in the Nighthounds that could fill your role. Kyle: YeahYoure right. Thanks, Yin, he said, as it seemed like his mood was starting to brighten, and he started to smile. Yin: Aww. Glad I could help out my big puppy and make him feel better, she said as she reached out and started to pet the fur on top of Kyle''s head. The smile Kyle had quickly turned into a frown, and he looked very annoyed that Yin was petting him. Kyle: Please stop that. Yin: Nope. Im the only person in this entire world who you''ll let pet you. Youd punch anyone else who tried this. And, Im going to take full advantage of that. He he he, she chuckled. Kyle immediately sat up and pulled away from Yin, trying to prevent her from reaching his head. He then turned toward the bear mutant, who was still standing beside Yin. Kyle: Grizz, you were the one that went to talk to John. So, is it true? Was he really annoyed? Grizz: Yes. He said that the cop, Joe, annoyed him. Kyle: And he just let him walk away?" Grizz: Correct. John even suggested to me that we shouldnt harm them and steer clear for now. Which I assume he means we shouldnt get involved. Kyle: Really? Why did he let him go? I hear people go missing around him all the time. Yin: Bah, that''s just rumors. My John is merciful. He wouldnt go around whisking people away without reason. You would know that if you ever met him, she said, while still trying to reach towards the doberman mutant''s head to pet him. Kyle knew next to nothing about John and never met him. And, it was all purposeful. He was trying to maintain as much ignorance of the strange man on Eld Street as possible. The few second-hand reports from some of the frightened Nighthounds members, who had been assigned to keep an eye on John, told him all he needed to know. Those members were so scared that they had begged Kyle not to put them on Eld Street duty. The doberman mutant was wise enough to realize that ignorance can be a blessing. He had the authority and Yins blessing to learn more about John if he wanted to. But, he chose not to. Kyle: Yeah, not going to happen. Unless its absolutely necessary, Im not going anywhere near that guy. I dont want to lose my mind, he said, while constantly moving his head around to avoid being petted by Yin. One of the few things Kyle knew about John was that most mutants should keep their distance from him. For whatever reason, mutants with animalistic features become agitated and more apt to hallucinate when around him. The doberman mutant thought it might have to do with the fact that certain mutants have heightened senses, picking up on things that most ordinary people dont. Grizz and Yin were the only two mutants he knew that were not affected by Johns strange aura. Kyle suspected there might be more mutants in the Nighthounds that could interact with John normally, but he wasn''t going to try and learn about them. Yin: You wouldn''t lose your mind. There is nothing to be scared about John. As long as you treat him with respect, she said while still trying to reach out to Kyle''s head and failing, as the doberman mutant blocked her attempts. Grizz: I also concur with Mistress Yin. For someone who has as much power as John, he can be quite amenable. And, would not purposely harm others. Kyle: Try telling that to my guys guarding Eld Street. I got them shitting themselves scared when someone gets the bright idea of trying to talk to him. Grizz: But no physical harm ever came to any of them. Kyle let out another deep sigh. Kyle: Whatever. Im not going to argue with you two. Just keep me out of this weird business you have going on. Or at least keep me in the dark about it as much as you can, he said as he gently pushed Yin away, who was still trying to reach up and pet Kyles head. Yin was gently pushed back into her seat by Kyle. The fox woman playfully puffed out her cheeks in disappointment at Kyle for not letting her pet him. Her playful expression turned a little more serious as she started to address Kyle again. Yin: You know I trust you, and you can trust me. There is no problem with you knowing what Im doing or about John and some of the others I work with." Kyle: Yin, I will do anything for you. Even follow you into the burning abyss. But, I dont need to understand why youre doing the things you do. You picked me up when I had nowhere to go. You are family to me. I know I can trust you. But, I also know that some of the stuff you''re involved with sounds nightmare-inducing. I like sleeping soundly at night and want to keep it that way. Yin: Fine. I will continue to respect your wishes, she said with a soft smile. Kyle: Thank you. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Grizz: Speaking of people you work with, Miss Scarlett has sent you a missive, he said, directed at Yin. The smile Yin had quickly turned into a scowl. Yin: What does that bitch want? Kyle: Should I leave? This sounds like this is part of that weird business I dont want to know about. Grizz: Ill keep it brief and vague for you, Kyle. Miss Scarlett is requesting another meeting soon. Yin: For what? Grizz: The missive didnt say. Yin let out a long, annoyed sigh. Yin: Ok when does she want this meeting? Grizz: That also wasn''t specifically communicated. Yin: For fucks sake. Why is that wrinkly crone ass bitch asking for a meeting, but wont say for what or when? I fucking hate her so much! How am I supposed to arrange a meeting if I dont have a date? Grizz: She did state she wanted one soon. Yin: Does she want it in a couple of days, a couple of weeks, or a couple of months? Soon is relative. I know what the fuck she''s doing. She is forcing me to go to the trouble of setting up a meeting with everyone else and then changing her mind at the last minute. Making me go through the hassle of setting up a new meeting time just to get on my nerves. Grizz: I dont think she is going to do that. Especially when the others are involved. Yin: You dont know her like I do! Grizz and Kyle both rolled their eyes. They have seen this hundreds of times now. The fighting that went on between Yin and Scarlett was intense and pointless. Every time Scarlett''s name was mentioned in front of Yin, she would throw herself into a frenzy and start calling the former archmage every insult under the sun. Even Kyle believed that if he had full knowledge of the relationship between Yin and Scarlett, the constant animosity between them wouldnt make sense. Kyle knew about Scarlett; it was hard not to. She is such an infamous black mage that she is a common name you would hear in the underworld of society. Beyond knowing a few of her claims to infamy, any research Kyle did into Scarlett immediately stopped when he discovered that she was working with Yin and John. The Scarlet Witch was part of that nightmare business he didnt want to know about. Kyle: OK, I think I''m going to go do something else now, he said as he stood up from his chair and prepared to leave. Grizz: Wait, you need to know when were going to set this meeting up. Yin will be unavailable during that day, and youll have to manage was all he managed to say before being cut off by Yin. Yin: Im not setting any meetings up! Send a missive back to that hag and tell her to give me a date and reason, or fuck off! Kyle quietly walked off somewhere while Grizz tried to calm down the now-mad Nightqueen. ?????????????????? On the west end of the city, not too far from the Cathedral of Light in Graheel, stood a picturesque row of houses. One of these houses belongs to Crowley. Inside, Crowley sat in his study on the first floor of his home. It was early morning and he had just finished his morning cup of tea. The ex-Hand of Light was enjoying retirement since he had declared his resignation from the church a little over a week ago. The transition to his departure was quick and simple. Crowley had been preparing this since he was confronted by Beck. All he needed was the courage to go ahead with his plan, which he finally built up, and was no longer officially a priest. He was sitting in a comfy chair by a window. The warm morning sun shone through the window and onto the old former priest. He leaned back and enjoyed the warmth the sun provided while giving a silent prayer of gratitude towards the Light. Crowley began to drift into a semi-conscious state. It was one of his morning rituals. He would close his eyes and attempt to clear most of his mind. It was a basic form of meditation that he had picked up early in his career to help manage stress. He would have continued doing this, but a loud noise interrupted him. A loud, crashing sound could be heard from somewhere outside. Crowley immediately got up and looked out his window to see what the commotion was. There was a group of men who looked like they were moving heavy pieces of furniture into the house across from him. They appeared to have knocked over a large wooden crate. The crate shattered, and pieces that looked to be parts of a table spilled out. Crowley saw his neighbor shout at the men who had knocked over the crate. Seeing that it was nothing he needed to concern himself with, he decided to go back to meditating. As he went to do that, something outside caught his eye. A woman off in the distance was walking slowly down the street toward Crowley''s home. She was wearing frilly black clothing that looked like a funeral garb. She had a wide-brim hat with a veil hanging from it, obscuring her face. She doesn''t look like any of my neighbors, but I feel like I''ve seen her before. But, where? Wait, was it at Sheridan''s funeral? Crowley pondered. The doorbell to his home suddenly rang. He turned to look at the entrance of his study briefly before turning back to look at the mysterious woman, but she was gone. She was nowhere on the street to be seen. The former priest didnt have time to ponder the peculiarities of the individual he just saw before the doorbell rang again. Crowley: Coming! he called out Crowley made his way out of his study and downstairs, towards the front door. He opened the door. Standing in front of his house was a plain, middle-aged woman with brown hair. She had no notable features that made her stand out from the crowd. Women: Please, Father Crowley. I know it is early in the morning, but I really need someone to talk to about my husband. Ah, its this situation again. He thought to himself. Even though Crowley had lost his position as a priest of the Church of Light, people would still come to him as though he were one. His lost status as a priest did not seem to matter to people, and they would come to him for their spiritual needs or to convince him to come back to the church. Crowley: Of course, come in, he said while opening the door wider and gesturing to follow him. Crowley, being the way he was, couldnt refuse people who asked for his help. This aspect of him resulted in him being in this weird position where he was still basically a priest in everything but name. While freed from his duties as head priest, it had been replaced by constantly counseling people. Similar to what he did before, but on a larger scale. He was now talking to over a dozen people a day since announcing his retirement. Never truly fully enjoying any sense of his retirement. The former Hand of Light guided the plain-looking women to his living room, where they both took a seat. Crowley: So what seems to be troubling you, Ms.... he paused, expecting the woman to state her name. Stacy: Its Stacy. We just talked a month ago. Did you already forget about me and everyone else in the church already? Crowley: Ah, yes. Sorry. It must have slipped my mind. As you know, a lot has been going on with me lately. Otherwise, I would have never forgotten your name. The reality was that there were a lot of people in his former congregation. There were so many that it was impossible for Crowley to realistically remember everyone. When people visited him while he was the Hand of Light, he had assistants who would remind him who was visiting him and why. Now that he was on his own, he didnt have that luxury, and the limits of his knowledge of everyone in the congregation were showing. Stacy: I suppose... Are you sure you wont return to the church? I know you said you had to leave, but you are sorely missed. Crowley: Lets not talk about that. You said you were having some sort of relationship problem with your husband? he said, trying to deflect from being asked to return to the church. Marriage problems were a common issue for many of his congregants, and judging by the women''s comments at the front door, that appeared to be the situation on the surface. Stacy: Oh, no. It''s not that. Crowley: Oh, I thought you said you were having troubles with your husband at the door. Stacy: I am, but not really? Um she said, unsure of how to explain her problem. Crowley: Take your time. Twenty seconds went by as Stacy thought on how to articulate her problem to Crowley. Stacy: Um, something is wrong with my husband, Larrs. Crowley: How so? Stacy: I dont exactly know. You see, hes been acting strange. It''s like hes become more paranoid recently and has been acting jumpy lately. There is clearly something wrong, but he wont confide in me anything. Crowley: With all due respect, if you dont know what is making him behave like this, Im not sure there is much I could do to help with this problem. Stacy: I know. I just was wondering if you had some sort of insight into what was happening and how to make my husband open up more. Crowley: It still comes back to the same problem. If you dont know whats wrong, I have no idea what to tell you. Have you tried asking him about his strange behavior? Stacy: Yes, but he just says everything is fine, even though it''s obviously not. Hes hiding something and wont tell me anything. "This sounds like maybe an obsessive relationship. Someone who wants to know every detail of their partner and control them. Or maybe its infidelity. Ive had a lot of success talking through couples with both issues, but infidelity is especially ugly, so I hope this isnt about that, Crowley thought. Crowley: Are you suspecting him of being unfaithful? Stacy: Um, I''m not sure. I dont think so. He just seems like hes scared about something. Crowley: Hmm, this seems like the kind of problem where both parties are needed. So, I would suggest arranging a meeting with one of the priests at the church. They should be able to help you two through whatever this problem is. Barring that, its always good for couples to work on communication with each other. You should read Corta 10:31 and onward. It talks about the proper manner in which couples should behave and says that communication is very important. Stacy: I will. Um, I was wondering if you would talk to him? Crowley: How about you try going to church and reading what I suggested first. If it doesn''t feel like there is any improvement, then I can try talking to him. OK? Stacy nodded. For the rest of the retired priest''s morning, he made idle chit-chat with Stacy. Intermission X -Somewhere in the eastern continent.- A middle-aged man was walking through a nearly pitch-black cave. He wouldnt have been able to see where he was going if it were not for the lanterns that hung from the ceiling. The man wore simple black clothing and had black hair. Beyond this, there was no significant distinguishing feature about this person that stood out. However, many people in the western continent would immediately recognize his face and realize who he was. Vince Neev. He was an infamous black mage and mass murderer of the Rattle Bone cult. Wanted across the entire Western continent for his brutal acts of manslaughter, which Vince referred to as his artwork. Vince: This is such a waste of time, he mumbled to himself. He was currently on a mission for the cult. Apparently, the bone readings are off. So he was ordered to consult with another cult known as the Fateweavers into why that may be the case. The Fateweavers is a nameless god cult dedicated to a god associated with foresight. They are made up of seers and experts in divination. They were also one of the few nameless god cults that weren''t actively hostile to Vinces cult in the past. Unfortunately, the Fateweavers in the western continent all died out a long time ago. Forcing Vince to travel to the eastern continent to talk with the Fateweavers who are still alive and active here. He paid off some people and killed others for information that eventually led him here, to a cave the Fateweavers apparently operate out of. As Vince walked along the path, the number of lanterns started to decrease, and the amount of spider webs he saw increased. Eventually, he came upon the last lantern in his path. Ahead of him, the tunnel continued into pitch-black darkness. Vince opened his hand and a white ball of light floated out of it and started hovering just above his head. The black mage continued his way forward with the magical light following him. He walked forward for another ten minutes. As he did, he noticed that the stone walls of the tunnel became completely covered up with spider webbing. He could also hear the chittering of countless spiders crawling around him somewhere in the darkness. Vince: Ugh, fucking hate spiders. Maybe they wouldnt be so bad if they had bones in them. The black mage continued forward into the tunnel until it exited out into a large enclosed area. The space was so large that Vince''s magical light couldnt illuminate the entirety of it. He could only see thirty feet (9 meters) around him. Beyond that only more darkness. In this room, he could hear even more things crawling around him. He looked towards the edge of where his light shone and could see the silhouette of countless spiders crawling around. They were waiting for Vince to drop his light so that they could approach and swarm him. He then heard something else move. It was large, and moving towards him. Stepping out into the light was a giant spider leg, then another, and another. A giant ferocious-looking spider the size of a bus revealed itself. Its maw dripped with venom. A savage hunger could be seen in its eight black eyes. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Just above the monstrous spider''s head, was a woman with six black arachnid eyes beside her normal human ones. She was pale and her breasts were wrapped in spider silk to cover them. The woman was physically attached to the giant spider at the waist. The monster spider and woman appeared to be one creature. Spiderwoman: Oh my. It is not every day that someone willingly walks into here. Who do I owe the pleasure? Vince took a second to clear his throat and then started talking to the spider woman. Vince: Im Vince Neev of the Rattle Bone cult, he stated calmly. Spider woman: Hisssssssss! Rattle Bone! What are you doing here!?! she yelled, surprised. The spider part of the woman seemed to take a defensive stance as soon as Vince declared he was part of the Rattle Bone cult. Vince: For a cult that is said to have the greatest foresight, its amusing you didnt expect my arrival. Spiderwoman: Bah! The weave is shattered. There is no foresight to be had anymore. For anyone. Vince: So its the same for you too? Do you know whats causing it? Does it have something to do with our mutual enemies? Spiderwoman: No. Not even the pale one has a hand in this. Its something else. Vince: Then what is it? What is causing divination magic to be in such disarray? Spiderwoman: Simple-minded fool. Its not just divination that''s broken. Fate is broken itself. The prophecy is breaking down. The future is becoming so uncertain that even the gods do not know what is to come. Vince: Oh, its that serious? Hm. Maybe this trip wasn''t such a waste of time. Now when you say prophecy, are you talking about any specific one? Like that prophecy with the Blood Callers? Or, something else? Spiderwoman: The only one that matters obviously. The End Times. Vince: Oh, that boring one. Meh, who cares if it comes true or not, he said while shrugging. Spiderwoman: The prophecy of the End Times is still active even now. Maybe the only one that still functions. But, its changed. No longer what it once was. Itsyet undetermined. Vince raised an eyebrow once he heard that. Vince: Now youve piqued my interest. Whats changed about it? What does it mean for a prophecy to be undetermined? Spiderwoman: You think I''ll just tell you? The spider body below the woman made a monstrous hissing sound directed at Vince. Vince: Come now. I dont know what the Rattle Bone cultists are like here, but Im from the Western continent. And, Rattle Bone and the Fatweavers were allies in the past where I''m from. So let''s be civil and was all he got out before being cut off by the spider woman. Spider woman: Your words have no sway here, man from the cult of lies. I know what your cult did to my sisters in the West. How you betrayed them and butchered them even after they helped you. How you took their bones and made mockeries of them. Vince: Ah, shit. I was hoping you wouldnt know that. Spiderwoman: YOU WILL DIE HERE!! she screamed. Countless chittering of spiders could be heard in the darkness along with the approach of what sounded like more giant spiders. It looked like Vince would have to fight for his life now. However, despite the danger of the situation, Vince still looked calm. The black mage let out a long sigh. Vince: I guess I''ll have to find out the hard way by ripping your soul out, he mumbled in annoyance. He then looked at the spider woman who was prepared to strike at Vince at a moment''s notice. His eyes wandered to the part of the giant spider with the female human torso attached to it. A crazed thought just flowed through Vince''s mind. Vince: Wait a minute, you''re not completely a spider. You have human parts. Which means you have BONES! BONES FROM A SPIDER! SPIDER BONES!!!!! Now I get why my predecessors killed you all! Where else would you ever get bones from a spider! HA! HA! HA! he yelled, before laughing madly. Vince now had a crazed look to him. No longer motivated by finding out what the Fatewevers knew about the change in prophecy. Now he was singularly focused on collecting the bones of the half-spider women in front of him. (Authors note: If I wasn''t committed to only numbering the intermission chapters with roman numerals, I would definitely have titled this chapter Spider Bones (>.<). Anyways, I think this is the first time someone from one of three major cults showed up in the story since Alans flashback. Im so excited to slowly start exploring more about Vince and his cult in future chapters!) Chapter 67 - Lesson: Divination Magic Sasha Mez, also known as Sasha the Green. Is maybe the most famous of the founders of Graheel university, besides maybe Cain Mired himself. Her fame mostly comes from the Epic of Sasha. A multi-story tale of Shasha Mez and her journey all across the western continent that has been told and re-imagine countless times. For those who are unaware of the Epic, we shall give a short summary of it. Sasha Mez grew up in a town that bordered the swampland of Agado. She was a genius mage. During her time growing up, her town was going through a terrible famine. Caused by excessive rain that led to blight within the crops. Resulting in people starving. To try and solve this, she worked with a local mage, known as Creen, to try and develop a solution to this problem. Her solution was a special type of mushroom that could survive and thrive under the condition her village was going through. Thus mushroom magic was created, also known as Mycomancy. For a time, Sasha''s home thrived and people were no longer starving thanks to the shrooms she could grow with her magic. But, as for all hero tales goes, misfortune befell Sasha. Creen, the man Shasha developed mycomancy with, had weaponized mycomancy and destroyed Sasha''s village with it. All as an attempt to try and monopolize mushroom magic for himself. Sasha barely managed to survive herself when her village was infected with Creens weaponized mycomancy. Since she had helped develop this magic, Sasha was able to create a method to counteract its deadly application and survive. Unfortunately, she was unable to save anyone else. Everyone she knew died. From this point of the Epic, Sasha goes on a multi year journey chasing down Creen, who had fled after destroying Sasha''s home. For more detail on her journey, please refer to the Epic of Sasha. At the end of the epic, Sasha becomes a bit of a pacifist when Cain Mired meets her. She did agree to help build the university, under the condition that she would exclusively focus on teaching non-combative magic inline with her pacifism. Also, the university had to promise to never weaponize mycomancy. To which, Cain Mired and the other founders agreed. Thus, the Shroom Pact college was formed. A college with the largest admissions and most famous for its agriculture offerings in its curriculum, where no combat courses are offered. Keeping in line with the promise made to its founder, a pact of both mushrooms and pacifism if you will. Writing of Archmage Setta on The Founding of Graheel and its University Within one of the countless lecture halls were rows of chairs and tables with students seated at them. In the front were a giant projector and a desk for the professor to sit at. The students here were currently waiting for the lecturer to arrive. Sitting beside each other in the lecture halls was Alan and Sere. They were in the middle of a general magic class. The hall had students who were both from the Lionheart college and Silverwing college today. Except, Alan was the one student that stood out. He was no longer technically a Lionheart student, and now sported purple robes from the Arcane Eye collage. However, despite changing colleges, it didnt allow him to change the timetable for his classes this semester. Alan still needed to attend all the classes he would have taken as a Lionheart student. So this was why he was in this class today for the Lionheart and Silverwing students. The Siverwing students who saw Alan in their class today were surprised, and he could hear them whispering something about him behind his back. They didnt expect to see someone from the famous Arcane Eye college in their class today. The Lionheart students, however, did not seem to care. Alan knew many of the first-year Lionheart students and had a positive relationship with them. Although Alan had changed colleges, they still considered him to be one of them and did not mind his presence. Though he had the support of his fellow Lionheart students, he was bothered by the stares of the Silverwing. Alan: Maybe accepting admission into the Arcane Eye college was a mistake. Sere: What? People staring at you is what makes you think accepting Lazaruss offer was a mistake, and not that insane training Mitra has you doing? Alan: Well, I can kinda handle what Mitra is throwing at me. But, people staring at me and whispering things about me is stressful. Its like Im some sort of mythical creature to them. Sere: You might as well be. People from the Arcane Eye almost never interact with anybody from the other colleges. As famous as the Arcane Eye college was, the student body of this college is quite reclusive. They dont have curriculums like normal students and are not required to take any classes. Instead, they are expected to self-study and are provided resources to do their own research on any subject they desire. Therefore, Arcane Eye students do not have a lot of opportunities to interact with other people. Students from other colleges can go through their entire education at the university and never see another Arcane Eye student. Some have even wondered at times if the Arcane Eye has students attending their college at all. Alan was a sort of unicorn in the wild to a lot of people. He was forced to attend these classes, due to how and when he was admitted into the Arcane Eye. It wouldnt be until next semester that he could see the full benefits of being part of this college. Alan: I was part of the Lionheart just a few weeks ago. Sere: No one knows that except me and a bunch of first-year Lionheart students. Alan: I guess Alan glanced behind him at a few Silverwing students, but as he did so, they all looked away, acting like they weren''t staring at him. He then turned back to Sere, still feeling annoyed about the constant attention he was getting. Sere: Speaking of that offer. Why did you accept it? I never bothered to ask you about that. Alan: Isn''t it kinda obvious? Sere: I meansure. Just saying you attended the Arcane Eye college on your resume is enough to land you almost any job you want. But, I know you. It is something deeper than that. Alan: Why does it have to be deeper than that? Sere: Cmon. Youre dodging me. Alan sighed. Alan: its kinda embarrassing. Sere quickly looked around. Where they were sitting, there was no one close enough to hear what they were saying. Sere: Just tell me. We are friends. I wont tell anyone. Alan paused to think for a few seconds before he finally relented. Alan: I was thinking that I wanted to try and become an archmage. And, having the reputation of the Arcane Eye might help with that. Sere: Oh, OK. Alan: Nothing to add? Sere: No, I''ll support you as a friend in whatever you choose to pursue. Did you think I was going to mock you or try to talk you out of this? A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Alan: I kinda did. I know being an archmage has more to do with academic pursuits than anything else. And, I know I''m not the most book-smart person there is, making this more difficult for me. But even so, I want to try to become one. In memory of Cris. Sere: Alan she said in a soft tone while resting a hand on his shoulder. Suddenly, walking inside the lecture hall, was a female green-robed teacher. Her brown hair was tied up into a bun, and she wore large glasses. Seeing her walk in, the chatter in the room started to die down. Hele: Hello everyone. I''m Hele Meti. A professor at Shroom Pact college and the lecturer for today''s class. Now then, let''s get right to it. The professor clapped her hands, and all the students felt a fluctuation of aether ripple out from her. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a bowl full of sand, a book, and a small wooden stick with runes on it appeared in front of each student in the room. Hele: As you all know, this is a general magic class. In this class, we will be going over all the forms of magic one can learn. Giving you a general sense of what the various types of magic there are and what school of magic you may want to pursue specialization in your future semesters. Today we will cover divination magic. Are there any questions? One of the male Silverwing students near the front of the class raised their hand. Hele: What is your question? she said while pointing at the person raising their hand. Silverwing Student: Um, I thought divination was all just pseudo-magic? So why are we learning this? Hele: Hmm, yes. A lot of fortunetellers you might run across might claim they can perform divination, but its really smoke and mirrors. Most of them use some archaic method, like pulling cards from a deck and reading them. However, dont mistake that for divination magic. It is a real school of magic and has a very established science behind it. Hele made a gesture at the screen in front of the lecture hall, and a picture of what looked like the world appeared. There was a diagram overlapping the world that seemed to represent aether. Hele: Divination magic is a part of aether theory. And, aether theory says that aether exists everywhere, at every moment, at all times, and beyond. It reacts to everything that happens. Even me speaking right now is causing aether to fluctuate ever so slightly. Divination magic theorizes that aether even reacts to events that have yet to happen. Because of the reactive nature of aether, it can cause a sort of rippling effect that can spread through the ambient aether all around us. Hele made another gesture, and the screen now displayed what looked like waves of aether going over the world. Hele: Part of traditional divination magic is reading those ripples through a medium and trying to make predictions with it. And, that''s what we''re going to do today. In front of you, I have supplied all the materials you will need to perform sand-water divination. A female Lionheart student suddenly raised her hand and started asking a question. Lionheart Student: Um, excuse me. Dont you need water for that type of divination? Youve only supplied us with the sand. The professor looked down at one of the desks a student was sitting at and saw a bowl of sand, but no water. Hele: Ah, sorry. Let me fix that. She clapped her hands again, and everyone felt another fluctuation of aether and suddenly the bowls of sand started to fill up with crystal-clear water. Hele: Now then, please follow the instructions in the book I''ve supplied. If anyone is having difficulty, I will come to assist you. Everyone, get started now. You have an hour to perform a successful sand divination. Hele took a seat at the large desk at the front of the room while more chatter started to fill the room. Students were discussing among themselves while others got right into reading. Alan and Sere just got right to it and started reading the book that was given to them for ten minutes. The spell was straightforward: draw in the surrounding aether and channel it into the bowl while mixing the sand. The stirring will kick up the sand in the water, and then aether will then cause the sand to settle in a certain pattern. From that pattern, you can get a general vibe about what''s going on around you. From what Alan and Sere were reading, the difficulty of this spell is trying not to mix your own aether into the spell when performing it. Sere: Hmm, I think I understand, she said as she put the book down. Sere then picked up the stirring stick she was provided and started stirring the sand. Alan watched in fascination. On the surface, it didnt look that impressive. There was no dramatic visual pneumonia, like many other spells, but Alan could feel the aether fluctuate and become a little thinner around his friend. The runes on the stirring stick started to glow very faintly. Sere pulled the ambient aether into her and then pushed it through the stick she was holding and then into the bowl. She then stopped stirring and held the stick in place while continuing to put aether into it, just like the book had told her to do. The sand eventually settled into the water. The symbol of a circle with a line through it formed in the sand. Sere: OH! I got it. Alan: Howd you do that on your first try? Sere: It''s mostly just aether control. And, Im really good at that. Alan: Any tips you wanna give for those of us not born with perfect aether control? Sere: Hmm. Dont draw the aether into the core of your body like you do with most spells. Otherwise, you are very likely to mix your own aether into it. Try to just draw it onto only your skin and then push it through the stirring stick and into the bowl. Alan let out a long sigh. Alan: Easier said than done. But, first. What does that symbol you got mean? he said, pointing to the symbol that formed in Seres bowl. Sere: Let me check. Sere picked back up the divination book they were given and quickly flipped through it until she found what she was looking for. Sere: It says here that circle can mean approval, something positive relative to your demeanor, completion, objectives, or possibly an opportunity. Alan: That sounds pretty vague. Sere: The book says this type of divination is not known to be that accurate, so it has to be vague. And let''s see here, she said while flipping the page in the book. A line that cuts through another symbol means a denial of that thing. And, this form of divination would be only relevant to the person performing the divination. So, this is basically saying I was denied something positive? I think that''s what it means." Alan: Denied something positive...Oh, wait. What about that opportunity to get into the Arcane Eye? Sere: Hmm, yeah. It said Sand-water divination is more likely to tell you something about the recent past or present than the future. So, that sounds right. A missed opportunity to join the Arcane Eye is probably what this reading is about. Alan: I cant believe this magic actually works. Sere: Yeah. Now you try, she said while gesturing to her friend to perform the sand-water divination. Alan picked up the stirring stick and went through the exact same motion as Sere while closing his eyes. The process took much longer for Alan because he did not have the same level of aether control that Sere did. Alan needed a lot of concentration. He drew the ambient aether into himself, halfway into the core of his body. He didnt have enough fine control over it to only draw the aether onto his skin. It wasn''t nearly as good as Sere''s, but it was all Alan could manage at the moment. He forced the aether he''d collected through his arm into the bowl while he stirred the sand. He kept at it until he felt he''d pushed all the aether gathered into the bowl. Then he stopped stirring and let the sand settle. Alan opened his eyes, and he became confused at what he saw. No symbol formed at all. However, the sand changed color. It was a brownish yellow when he started stirring; now it was porcelain white. Alan: Um, I dont remember the book saying anything about changing color. Sere quickly flipped through the book to try and figure out what sand turning white meant, but couldnt find anything. She waved to Professor Meti and called out to her. Sere: Um Professor Meti, we have a bit of an issue. The teacher heard Sere''s voice and turned towards her, calling out her name. With a neutral expression, she made her way over to where Sere and Alan were sitting. Hele: What seems to be the problem? Sere: My friend, Alan, performed the sand-water divinationbut it didnt form any symbol. Instead, it became white and we were not sure what it means. The book doesn''t mention anything about it changing color. Hele: It what? she said, sounding surprised. The professor looked over at Alans bowl. Her gaze became focused and curious at what was going on. Hele: What in the world did you do? Alan: I-I dont know. Is this bad? Hele: Im not sure. This is the first time I''ve ever seen this happen. Hele took the stirring stick from Alans bowl and started kicking up the sand with it. As did so, the sand suddenly turned back to a yellowish-brown color. Hele: Hmm, the aether clung to the sand and changed its color. But once disturbed, it falls away and its original color returns. But, what causes the color? she said to herself. She looked at the sand intensely, then she shifted to the stirring stick she was holding. Hele reached into the air, pulled another stirring stick out of nowhere, and handed it to Alan. Hele: Here. Try doing it again, but with this stick. Alan nodded and did as he was told, carefully repeating the same motions as before while Hele watched intently. This time, however, the sand didn''t change color. Instead, it settled into a squiggly line. Heles eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she studied the line, a hint of curiosity flickering across her face Hele: Hmm, a line like this means too much of your own aether got mixed in. And, it seems it ruined the reading. Alan: But, what about the sand changing color? Hele: I think the stirring stick I gave you must be defective. They are enchanted in a way to help make performing sand-water divination easier. I think the enchantment must be breaking down, and the excess aether must have leaked into your bowl, causing it to change color. " Alan: Oh, OK. Hele: Give it a few more tries to try and get a clear symbol to form in your sand. If youre still having trouble, call me over and I can try to help you, she said before walking over to another student who was calling for help. Alan went about attempting sand-water divination for the rest of the class until, on his tenth try, he succeeded. He got a circle. Alan and Sere assumed the circle was in reference to him getting into the Arcane Eye. However, during the entire lesson, after the sand turned white, he felt like he was being watched. It didnt feel like the normal stares he was getting from the Silverwing students; it felt like something more. He couldn''t shake this feeling until class was over, and he went to meet up with Jafar. Chapter 68 - Sleuth-Hawks First Job Take heed. For those who turn from the compassion of the Light shall instead be embraced by the nameless ones. Those who do not know love and shall guide you with their lies toward a nameless abyss of fire to suffer, until the end of eternity. Eldivi 6:11 At Benny''s Diner, Alan and Sere sat with Jafar, who had all decided to come here for lunch. Each of the students had a plate filled with meat, fried starchy veggies, toast, and jam. Sere had a few slices of tomato on one corner of her plate, in a sad attempt to make it look a bit more healthy. There was a lot of food on each student''s plate. Alan and Jafar were excitedly eating their food, while Sere looked at her plate with a slight disappointment. Sere: Did we have to come here for lunch? Alan: If you know another place that sells this amount of food for five Glint, sure. But, I doubt you do. You cant beat the price here. Jafar: Besides, what is the problem? The food is really good here. Sere: It is not that the food is not good. But, it''s greasy. I dont want to get fat. Jafar: You got tomatoes on your plate. Thats healthy. Sere: I had to ask for that to be added. And, that hardly makes up for the rest of the food. Alan: Cant you just use healing magic to prevent yourself from gaining weight? Sere: I wish. Healing magic doesn''t work that way, she said as she took a bite of toast. I swear to the Light, if you guys make a fat joke, she said while glaring at her friends. Sere was, in fact, very self-conscious about her weight. She was preemptively warning her friends not to joke about it. Jafar and Alan, on the other hand, were well aware of Seres sensitivity and would never make fun of their friend''s weight. Alan: Whao, I wasn''t going to do that. Im not suicidal. Sere: Was that an angry woman joke? Alan: N-nope, he said, immediately shutting his mouth. Alan remembered the pain he got when Sere threw something at him, and that was a book. Sere was holding a fork and a sharp knife. Alan really did not want her to throw pointy objects at him. So, he was trying to avoid her ire. She glared at Alan for a few seconds before turning back to Jafar. Sere: So, howd your day go? Jafar: Ugh, it was so awkward. Maybe accepting the Arcane Eye admission was a mistake. Alan: You too? I literally said the same thing earlier. Sere: You two are such babies. So what if people are staring at you. Jafar: Ha. I wish people would stare at me. Everyone at Ember Gear College treats me like I have the plague. They go out of their way to avoid me and wont even make eye contact. Alan: What''s up with that? Are they miffed at you for joining the Arcane Eye? Sere: Of all the colleges, the one with the most socially awkward students is Ember Gear College. I think it''s more likely that they''re afraid of Jafar. Jafar: Dead on. Alan: Why would they be scared of you? Sere: It''s like when meeting an important person for the first time. You get nervous. They see Jafar as some sort of big shot because hes in the Arcane Eye now. Jafar nodded along with Sere''s explanation, confirming it was correct. Alan: But, you were literally part of the Ember Gear College last week. They shouldn''t see you like that. Jafar: Thats what I thought. But, I guess not. Sere: So, does that mean you two are going to quit the Arcane Eye college? Alan: No way. Jafar: Thats not happening. Sere: Then you two should stop whining about being in the Arcane Eye. Jafar: Youre the one who asked how it was going for me. Sere: Oh, whatever. So, how did Mitras training go? Are you two still doing that? she said as she bit into toast with some jam on it. Sere regretted asking that question. It was like the question sucked the energy out of her friends and they looked like they were reminiscing about something horrible. Jafar: Yeah still doing that. And it is going... well? he said with a dead look in his eyes. Alan: Under normal circumstances, Jafar would be doing really well. He can already use basic enhancement magic regularly now. And, to a similar level as most first-year Lionheart students. Sere: That''s... by the light. How did that insane training actually work? Ive never heard of someone learning enhancement magic that fast. Alan: I dont know what to tell you. It works. Jafar learned enhancement magic and now Mitra is teaching him how to make wards around himself, he said while taking a bite of bacon. Jafar immediately buried his face in his hands on hearing that. Jafar: Ugh, I liked it better when she was teaching me how to use enhancement magic. Sere: That bad? Whats she making you do? Alan: Mitra makes him construct a ward around himself while she flings spells at him. Sere looked at Alan with disbelief at what she just heard. She was familiar with the normal process of learning ward magic, as she had learned it herself at a young age. Typically, when you first learn ward magic, you practice by trying to create a ward that pushes away a stationary object near you. Then, you increase the difficulties of the practice by increasing the mass of the object youre trying to push away. You do this until you''re at a competent level. Then the very last step in learning ward magic is to try to push spells away from you. Based on what Sere knew of Mitra. It sounded to her that Mitra skipped the traditional method and just started throwing spells at Jafar. Expecting him to figure it out on the fly. Jafar: Aah, it''s so bad. Every time I generate a ward that can block one of her spells, she ups the power of the next spell she flings at me and breaks through my ward, hitting me. I have so many bruises from the earth-aether bolts shes thrown at me. Sere was once again surprised to hear that Jafar was successfully blocking spells with wards. Even if the spells thrown were weak, it was still incredibly impressive; he was already at the stage where he could block some spells. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. I guess there is some sort of method to that woman''s madness. But, I dont think that is going to make Jafar feel better about what Mitra is putting him through. Sere silently thought to herself. Sere: What about you, Alan? Alan: Well, I can successfully use fusion magic to make lightning now. Seres mouth was left agape. It took me a little under a year to successfully learn fusion magic, and I was praised as a genius for that! Yet, Alan learned it in two weeks!?! What in the burning abyss kind of training are these two doing? Sere thought to herself Alan wasn''t wallowing in the thoughts of Mitras training as much as Jafar, and was able to pick up on Seres surprise. Alan: I can create lightning, but cant consistently do it and I don''t have control over it. I''m as likely to end up hitting myself as I am the thing I''m trying to aim at. Sere: That...doesn''t sound good. Actually, that sounds really dangerous. With how powerful fusion magic is, you could accidentally kill yourself if you are not able to properly control it. Alan: Yeah, you dont need to tell me that. My first successful attempt at lightning magic was nothing like those failed attempts. Once I successfully fused the elements together, I tried to form it into an aether bolt, but accidentally called a lightning bolt down on myself instead. Mitra had to step in and save me, otherwise, Im not entirely sure I would have survived that. Sere: Yikes. Alan: Yup. Mitra said to never use it outside of training until I can control it. To which I wholeheartedly agree. That was the most powerful spell Ive cast in my life, and it almost hit me. Sere: I see. So, Mitra is still training you? Even now, after forming the Sleuth-Hawks? Alan: Yeah got to work as an enforcer, attend training sessions with MItra, and still go to classes. Got a lot going on. Sere: How is that thing going with the enforcers? Are you allowed to say? Alan: Um, I dont know. Are we allowed to talk about it, Jafar? Jafar: I think so. Um, we got paired off with a police unit led by someone named Joe Striker. Sere: You got paired off with Joe... Striker, she said, with a tone that indicated she was familiar with the name. Alan: Wait, do you know that guy? Sere: Not personally. But, I hear Uncle Murdock complaining about him constantly at family gatherings. Jafar: Oh, yeah. Your uncle is the head of police here. Can you tell us what your uncle says about him? We havent met Joe yet. Sere: That hes bullheaded and always causing trouble for the police force. Stuff like that. A real troublemaker, I guess. Alan: We really did get the worst position, he said, followed by taking a bite of a sausage. Sere: What do you mean by that? Jafar: They paired me and Alan with the worst group and were given the worst job as part of the whole operation. I think that''s what hes talking about. Alan: I wanted to properly prove myself, but Im not being given any opportunity. Jafar: Mitra probably did that purposely to keep us out of danger, you know. Alan: Im not looking for danger. I just want to make a big contribution to this whole thing. But instead, they have us looking into some guys that Sorin basically bought his groceries from. Sere: Groceries? Ok, I gotta know. Whats that about? Jafar: It is not exactly groceries. Sorin was buying materials from people without the university knowing. Our group is supposed to look into those people. I think that Rell, our enforcer leader, said we would be looking into some guy who sold Sorin mortwood tomorrow. Sere: Hmm, mortwood is a pretty common ingredient for a lot of stuff. Why look into that? Jafar: It''s not just that. Everyone we were being asked to look into seems like unaware innocent bystanders to the whole thing. They dont expect us to find anything related to Jixi. Alan: Yeah, they''re just making us look into it on the off chance there is something. Sere: Oh, I see. Alan sighed. Alan: Things just haven''t been going as I hoped they would when I joined the Arcane Eye. he said, followed by him taking a sip of tea. Alan and his friends continued eating their food, then headed back to campus for the rest of their classes. The next day, Alan and Jafar would join up with Joe and finally start the Jixi investigation. ????????????????? Mid-afternoon the next day. In a police car designed to look like a regular vehicle sat Alan, Jafar, Dan, Rell in the front seat, and Joe at the wheel. They were driving down the road, past countless buildings, in complete silence. Alan and Jafar were wearing their white enforcer uniforms today. Nothing was said to anyone from the enforcer side. Joe and Dan just showed up at the university and told everyone to get in the car. Then they drove off to some destination that the enforcers weren''t told about. The big elephant in the room was the giant black eye that Joe had. Everyone from the enforcer side wanted to know what that was about, but Joe gave off an air of irritability. The investigator clearly wasn''t happy, the cause likely stemming from the source of the black eye. Thus, no one felt like talking. Eventually, after ten more minutes of driving in silence, someone spoke up. Rell, the enforcer leader, finally decided to try and start talking to Joe. Rell: So, what are we doing? I thought we would have a proper meeting today. Since we didnt do it three days ago. Joe: Were going to Larrys home. The one mentioned in your reports, he said while concentrating on the road in front of him. Rell: Just like that? We''re not going to discuss it as a group? Joe: Aren''t we talking about it now, he said facetiously. Rell groaned in annoyance. Rell: Were supposed to be working as a team. Joe: And, we are. Rell: Sure doesn''t feel like it. A team should be communicating. We have to be open and honest with each other. Joe: And, we''re doing that. Im answering all of your questions. Rell: Then are you going to tell us about what the deal is with that black eye? Joe: Nope. Rell groaned again, even more annoyed now. I think Im starting to get an idea of why Seres uncle complains about this guy. Alan silently thought to himself Dan, who was sitting beside Jafar and Alan in the back seat, spoke up. Dan: Um, Joe. Why don''t you give everyone a proper rundown? Joe took a deep breath before letting out a long sigh. Joe: We''re going to go talk to Larry about what he knows about Jixi. He was the one who did the most trade with Sorin for supplies out of all the people we were tasked to look into. And that''s it. Honestly, I could do this by myself. But, like you said, were supposed to be working together. So, thats why you three are coming along. Rell: Are we not going to do a background check on this guy first? I know I suggested to everyone in the report that we look into Larry first, but I didnt think we were going to go talk to him today. Joe: Were already way behind on this whole manhunt. Since your university has held onto this info for weeks now. Otherwise, yes. A background check might be appropriate. But, we have to choose where we spend our time wisely now. Every second we waste looking for Jixi just increases the chance of losing him. Rell looked surprised. The Grayscale enforcer got the impression of Joe as some dumb-muscled head officer. But, Joe gave a sensible and reasonable explanation for their current course of action. Rell: OK. I see your point. But, we could split our group up to do both. Unless, your third member in your unit is already doing that. Joe: No, hes not doing that. Mike is... at the dentist. Rell: What? Joe: He got a tooth knocked out and is getting the dentist to look at it. Rell was about to ask a follow-up question, but Joe suddenly slammed on the brakes. Everyone felt the momentum try to fling them forward, but were held in place by their seatbelts. Someone had cut Joe off on the road. The irritated officer started honking his horn and screaming expletives. Joe: Fucking asshole! Keep your eyes on the road! he screamed at the one who cut him off. At some point, the car that had cut Joe off drove into a different street, and when he was no longer in front of Joe, he put his foot on the gas and accelerated forward. After that little burst of road rage, Jafar spoke up. Jafar: Um, wont talking to Larry tip him off that we''re looking for Jixi? He might be helping Jixi hide, he said, trying to continue the conversation from before. Joe: If he was working with Sorin or Jixi, he''d probably already skipped town. And, there is no tipping this guy off. Sorin was in the news for weeks when it was discovered he was a necromancer. I assume Larry knows that and expects some sort of law enforcement to come talk to him. Alan: So, hes expecting us? Joe: Yeah. Well, not specifically us. But, someone to talk to him about Sorin. Rell: And, what if you''re right? What if he skipped town and is not in his home. Joe: Then thats good for us. It would indicate this guy likely knows something and is trying to hide it. Meaning, there is a good chance he knew about Sorins experiments. Our team is not likely to find Jixi, but we can still catch some of the others involved. We need to focus on the people we can catch. Upon hearing that, Alan started to feel hopeful. He was so disappointed at the idea of not being able to contribute to finding Jixi that he forgot about the others. Mitra said they think there were possibly multiple people involved. Alan started to realize that there was still a chance to prove himself by catching the other people who willingly helped Sorin turn his friend into an undead. Alan: Then that means if hes not in town, then he helped Sorin! he excitedly stated. Joe: Whoa there. Youre getting ahead of yourself. We dont even know if this guy left town, or even intends to. He could just have been giving Sorin suppliers without any knowledge of what he was doing. He was just selling him mortwood. Nothing illegal in that. Rell: The officer is right. Also, if he did skip town, it would still be difficult to find him then. Joe: Man, youre such a downer. Rell: I-Im the downer?! Im just being realistic, he said while looking indignant. Joe: Not that realistic. Its not that easy to pick up your life and go somewhere else so suddenly. If he did leave town, he left a trail that probably wont be too difficult to follow. Alan couldnt help but smile at Joe, rebuking Rell. He was starting to like this police officer. Joe: But, were still getting ahead of ourselves. Like I said, Larry could just be a normal guy who doesn''t have any involvement with what Sorin was doing. So, lets not get our expectations too high yet. Chapter 69 - A Slimy Mystery (Author note: Haven''t done a music recommendation for a while. So, here is something I suggest you listen to while reading. It really adds to the atmosphere: https://youtu.be/Qz6XLzLOPD4?si=dn83fHYn6qn7rM_P ) In a subdivision in the northeast of Graheel, outside of the Nighthound territory and relatively close to the university, Joe pulled his vehicle up to the front of a solitary two-story house. By the time they had arrived here, there was a heavy overcast that looked like it was about to rain. The house was older in its design and showed some signs of minor degradation caused by time, but it still appeared to be in somewhat relatively good condition and livable. It had a large raised patio in the front with stairs and possibly a front door that was obscured by the heavy shadows caused by the overcast. The plot of land the house sat on was around 4,000 square feet (370 square meters), with a small lawn in the front. The lawn was neatly clipped. The windows were all dark at the moment. There was no light coming from the house, a sign that no one was home. A single window on the second floor was open, letting the wind blow in and making the curtains flutter. The general atmosphere, combined with the heavy overcast, made it feel almost like nighttime, giving the house a very ominous feeling. Joe stepped out of his vehicle and quickly assessed the situation. He let out a deep sigh. Joe: Again? That is the second time this month that Im investigating a haunted-ass-looking place. Rell also stepped out of the vehicle and stood right beside Joe. Rell: You make it sound like you have a habit of investigating ominous-looking places. Joe: Not really. Dan: Joe, y-you didnt say anything about searching another h-haunted house, he said to Joe as he exited the vehicle. Rell looked back at Joe with an infuriating smirk from feeling vindicated by Dans comment. Joe could only sigh and rub his temples to relieve stress. Jafar and Alan also got out of the vehicle to look at the gloomy home. Alan: This place really does look haunted. Jafar: Are we searching that place? Is that what I heard? Joe: Were not searching anything, and its not haunted. This is where Larry is supposed to live. It just looks a little creepy because of the overcast. Rell: I must also concur with our units leader. There is no strangeness in the surrounding aether to suggest its haunted. Joe: You can detect that? Rell: Of course. Im from the Grayscale College. I specialized in dark magic countermeasures. It is easy for me to tell if theres black magic involved. Joe: So, what is it about the aether that tells you its not haunted then? Rell: The aether in a haunted place should feel like there is a spell constantly being cast, because in a way it is. The magic that keeps the soul bound to this world constantly has to exert itself, causing aether fluctuations that are not too difficult to feel if trained for. Joe: OK. I see. Rell: Also, if there is a possibility Im wrong and there is a soul bound here, I have special binding magic that can restrict the spirits actions against us. Alan: You can use spirit binding magic! he yelled out in anger at Rell. Alan jumped to conclusions as soon as he heard the words "spirit" and "binding" in the same sentence. He accused his enforcer leader of using that forbidden magic. Alan''s dislike for Rell was causing him to act somewhat irrationally in the moment. Rell''s expression did not change as he just looked at Alan. Rell: What are you talking about? No, I cant. The magic I know is only to prevent a ghost from harming the living. Pulling souls out of people''s bodies and forcing them to remain in this world is beyond me, he said while adjusting his glasses. Joe could read the atmosphere and sense some sort of hostility between those two, which he didnt understand. Fulfilling his role as leader, he stepped between the two of them and tried to mediate the conflict. Joe: Lets focus on the task at hand. No fighting. Alan glared at Rell for a few seconds before turning back to face Larrys house. Rell didnt seem to care or notice the hostility of Alan and went back to conversing with Joe. Rell: The task appears pointless at this time. Larry doesn''t look to be home, or he may have fled like you suggested earlier. Joe: Nah, look at the grass. It was recently cut. Youre not going to worry about cutting your lawn when fleeing a city. Hes probably still in Graheel, maybe just went out for a bit." Dan: If hes not home, are we going to wait for him to show up? Joe: Lets knock first, then decide what to do from there. Detective Joe walked slowly toward the house with the others in tow. He didn''t feel as uneasy as he had with Mark''s house; there was no obvious strangeness like there had been with the dying plants the previous time. It was easier to rationalize away any anxiety for him this time. The dark shadows and gloomy atmosphere created by the overcast easily explained any negative feelings he had about this place. His confidence was also bolstered by the presence of Rell. Joe didnt expect to have such an expert of dark magic with him, and he felt like he could be relied upon in a situation where black magic was at play. The knowledge of haunted places that was demonstrated by Rell impressed him. Maybe I should take Rell to Marks old home after this Jixi thing. See what he has to say about that place. Joe thought to himself, already planning to make use of Rell for his own investigation later. Approaching the ominous dwelling, he discerned its features more distinctly now. The oppressive shadows gradually receded as he drew nearer, lending a faint relief to the atmosphere. He stepped upon the stairs and onto the patio, and from here he could finally clearly see the front door of the home. Joe briefly looked at his party and addressed them. Joe: Let me do the talking, he said before turning back to the door. Joe raised his hand and, with his knuckles, knocked. There was a wooden tapping like one would expect, but there was also a wet squishing sound. Joe jerked his hand away, and there was a long strand of slime sticking to it. The slime stretched from the officer''s hand to the door. It looked like clear snot to Joe. Joe: What the? he mumbled as he looked at the slime stuck to his hand. Dan: I-Is that e-ectoplasm!? he said with a fearful stutter. Rell adjusted his glasses again. Before turning towards Dan. Rell: Thats nonsense. Ghosts dont leave ectoplasm. That''s just an old wives tale from he said, as he trailed off into a complex explanation of ectoplasm. Joe ignored the conversation going on behind him, concentrating on the slime on his hand. He toyed with it, massaging it between his fingers, trying to understand its consistency. It still looked and felt like snot to him. He then lifted it to his nose and sniffed it. No smell. The senior detective reached into his jacket, pulled out a light, and shone it on the door. Now, with the light shining on it, everyone could see that the door was completely covered in slime. The substance was almost completely translucent and could only be seen by the sheen of the light that reflected off it. Alan: Um, that doesn''t seem normal. Jafar: You think. Joe grabbed the door handle and tried to open it. The locking bolt could be heard banging against the inside of the door frame. The door didnt budge. Joe: Hmm, locked. Joe pulled his hand away, his palm now covered in slime. The senior officer gave a disgusted expression before wiping the slime from his hand on a nearby wall. He brought his other hand close to the lock and made a twisting motion. The lock then clicked with a loud sound. Everyone from the enforcer side was curious about what Joe did. As a null mage born with a special kind of magic, Joe did not need to chant to cast his magic. It made it difficult to identify what spell was being used. And, Joe had yet to tell the people from the university he was a null mage born with magnetic magic. Detective Joe then used his vectromancy again and created a magnetic field that pushed the metal parts of the door away from him, causing the door to swing open without him having to touch it. The door opened, with more stands of slime that formed between the doors edge and its frame before being stretched thin enough to break. The interior was dark. It was a standard foyernothing out of the ordinary. In front of the group were two other doors that led somewhere else, and stairs leading up. Rell: Are we just going to head inside? Isnt this against proto-call? Joe: Dont worry about it. Better to ask forgiveness than permission. Rell: Mr Joe. This is breaking and entering. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Joe: I said not to worry about it. Rell: This is highly unethical and against the law. Joe: Well, you can wait out here if you want. But, a door covered in slime on the home of one of our suspects warrants investigating. Rell: We don''t even know what slime on a door means. Joe: Thats why were taking a look. Joe stepped inside Larrys home with an audible squishing sound. He looked down with light in hand and saw that he had stepped in the same translucent slime from the door. It was all over the floor, creating a trail that went upstairs. Joe: Guess we follow the slime trail, he said as he continued further inside. Everyone else looked at each other before most of the group slowly followed behind Joe. Rell was the last one to enter. He had his arms crossed and looked very disapproving of Joes actions. Eventually, he relented and followed behind everyone else. The group ascended the stairs, careful with their steps as the stairs were coated in the same slimy, slippery material as the door, so as not to fall. The wooden steps, worn with age, protested with eerie groans under each cautious footfall. The air was humid inside. The further everyone went, the darker it became. Jafar responded by starting to cast a simple light cantrip to help illuminate the area, so as not to solely rely on Joes flashlight. With a whispered incantation, a white ball of light formed in Jafars hand before floating above his head and following him along. The area was further brightened thanks to the magic. Joe traced the trail of slime along the hallway of the second floor until it led him to a closed door. With Joe leading, he pushed open the door, revealing a bedroom beyond. Unlike the dark hallway, the bedroom was illuminated by ambient light coming in through a nearby open window. The wind blew inside the room from it, causing the nearby curtains to flutter. The bedroom itself was normal. It had everything one might expect to see: a large dresser for clothing, a bed for sleeping, a simple desk to work at, and not much more than that. There was also another door in the room that looked like it led to a bathroom. The senior officer remained focused on the trail of slime, his gaze fixed downward as he followed its path to the center of the room, where a pile of clothing lay. It was a complete set of clothing you would expect someone to wear. A long-sleeve shirt, pants, a pair of socks, underwear, and shoes. The garments were strewn haphazardly, seemingly abandoned in the middle of the floor. As the light was directed towards the clothing, that familiar sheen could be seen. The fabric was completely covered and saturated in that slimy substance. Like the seasoned detective he was, Joe''s first instinct was to inspect the pockets. He reached down and felt around the clothing and through the viscous substance. He felt something and reached into the pocket to pull out what looked like a wallet. Joe then opened it up and started to look at the contents. It was full of money and had a bunch of different types of identification in it. Joe: Hmm. Well, if there was any doubt that this was Larrys home, this wallet has his ID in it. Dan: OK. But, where is he? Joe: Thats what I want to know. A pile of clothing covered in slime with Larrys wallet. What does that mean? Alan: Did he turn into a slug monster? I mean, if he transformed into another creature, he would shed his clothing, and a slug creature would leave a trail of slime. All eyes turned to Alan, skepticism evident in the raised eyebrows of everyone, before shifting attention towards Rell, awaiting his confirmation or denial of such a theory. Rell: What? Im not a walking encyclopedia. I dont know everything involving black magic off the top of my head. Joe: That idea is pretty out there, but not impossible. I understand some pretty advanced curses can transform people into monstrous-looking creatures. Rell: You seem quite knowledgeable about that. Joe: I did some recent research on the subject. But, thats not likely whats going on. In this line of work, the most boring explanation is often the correct one. Alan: Then whats the boring explanation for this? Joe: Dont know yet. Well find out if we keep searching. Jafar: Larry is probably nearby if his wallet is still here. So should we be searching around like this if thats the case? Joe: Hmm, good point. LARRY ARE YA HERE! he yelled out. Joes voice echoed throughout the house. Ten seconds went by. No response was given to Joes yelling. Everyone looked at Joe with mouths agape. Unable to believe that he just did that. Joe: Well, if he''s home, hes not responding. So, dont worry about it, he said as he started to look around. Everyone commenced splitting off and scouring the room as per Joe''s instructions. Joe continued to focus on the pile of clothing again. Illuminating the area with his light, he discerned the shimmer of yet another trail of slime. Tracing it with his beam, he observed it guiding him into the bathroom. Entering the bathroom, he found nothing noteworthy within. It appeared to be a typical bathroom, complete with a sink, toilet, and shower. Joe noted that the trail of slime he had been tracking led to the shower stall. Curious, he stepped closer and peered inside. The bottom of the stall was covered in the same translucent slime that he had been following. A trail of slime ran from the front door to a pile of clothing. Then from the clothing to the shower. What does it mean? Joe wondered to himself. A yellowish glimmer in the basin of the shower caught the corner of Joes eye. He reached down near the drain and picked up a small, golden object. It was a tooth made of gold. A tooth? Whys it here? Examining the tooth closely, he pondered whether it served as an unusual accessory. Yet, despite thorough inspection, he found no hole through which it could be strung onto a necklace or bracelet. This isn''t an actual gold-molded tooth from someone''s mouth, is it? He continued to examine it for another few seconds. Failing to come up with a plausible explanation for why he found a tooth in the shower, he stowed it away in his pocket and resumed his search of the bathroom. Five minutes passed, yet Joe''s efforts yielded no further discoveries; aside from the gold tooth, nothing else unusual caught his attention. Joe then exited the bathroom back into the bedroom, seeing that his group was still looking around. Joe: Did anyone find anything? Rell was the first person to stop looking around and approach the senior detective. Rell: I found a record of the things hes sold, he said while handing Joe a small book. I skimmed through it. I didnt see anything suspicious. Joe: Good work. Alan was the next person to approach Joe. Alan: I found a lid to a container for something, he said as he held up a lid that looked like it was from a tote bin. Joe: A container for what? Alan: I dont know. I just found it under the bed, but I didnt see the container it goes to. Joe: And you, he said while turning to Jafar. Jafar was still searching around but stopped and addressed Joe. Jafar: Um, I didnt find anything. Joe: I see. Hm, when you were going through his records, were there any names of people in them? Like Sorins? he said while turning back to Rell. Rell: No. His records weren''t that detailed. Just what he sold and how many supplies he ordered. Joe: Was it a lot? Rell: I believe so. Joe: I think I have an idea of whats going on here. Everyone straightened their poster and turned to face Joe, eager to hear his explanation. Joe: I think what happened was that Larry had some sort of material delivered to the house. Right to the front door. He went out to bring it inside, but he must have spilled whatever he ordered on himself. He then stumbled through his house into this room, stripped himself, and headed into the shower to wash himself off. Dan: I dont know. There is a lot of slime between here and the front door. Joe: Based on the lid found, it was probably one of those big tote bins. So it would be a lot. Alan: If it was a chemical for spell crafting, does that mean its dangerous? Something like acid? Joe: I dont think so. It didnt burn my hand when I touched it. It also didnt have any acrid smell to it. Also, something acidic would dissolve clothing as well, but his clothing is perfectly fine. If he did have anything really dangerous, he would need a license to handle that material. Larry didnt have anything like that. He can only handle mundane materials. Rell: Hmm. If youre right about that, I think the slime is literally mucus. Specifically, from a Delva-spitting lizards mouth and nose. Its not restricted and doesn''t require a license like other materials to get a hold of. That would make the most sense. Everyone had a look of disgust at Rells explanation of the slime. Jafar: Ew. Why would he have lizard snot? Rell: It hardens under special conditions like concrete. It has a variety of uses in different types of arcane construction. Joe nodded along with Rells explanation. Joe: Yup. And, that is the boring explanation of what happened. Someone who spilled a bunch of expensive gunk on himself. Alan: But I only found the lid. Joe: Thats also a good point. Where would he put the rest of the tote? Rell: Its probably downstairs in his basement. The records I read said he stores a lot of that stuff there. Joe: Huh, good to know. Lets check that out next. Rell: Must we? Joe: If youre worried about breaking and entering, weve already crossed that bridge. Might as well go the whole way and do a thorough investigation, he said to Rell before walking out of the bedroom. The group descended to the main floor, scattering to explore the different rooms of the house. They ventured into various rooms adorned with simple furniture and faded wallpaper. Amidst the exploration, it was Alan, who wandered into the kitchen towards the back of the house. There he found the door leading to the basement, its door slightly ajar, inviting him into the unknown depths below. Alan informed Joe, and the group regathered and descended below together. Once they reached the bottom of the steps, they flipped a nearby light switch and looked around; the basement was packed full of shelves with boxes and various containers of different materials. Glancing briefly at a label on one of the containers, Joe could see that it was another type of supply for spell crafting. The senior detective then instructed everyone to scatter and look around for anything strange. The space was crammed with shelves, each one full of an assortment of peculiar objects. Things like dried herbs and containers of liquid of every color were placed on the shelves, their origin and purpose unknown. The former Lionheart student separated from everyone and walked between a row of shelves. In the aisle where he found himself, he saw all manner of alchemical supplies. Glass vials filled with shimmering liquids lined the walls, their hues ranging from vivid blues to deep purples. There were also pieces of equipment, like a bunsen burner and complex-looking glass apparatus, whose purpose was lost on Alan. This guy sure has a lot of stuff down here. Alan thought to himself. Alan continued to walk along, but stopped to inspect a peculiar glass jar. It was full of a strange-looking black liquid. It drew his attention. As he leaned in for a closer examination, a form emerged from the black substancean object floating eerily in the viscous fluid. Drawing nearer, he brought his face level with the jar. He could see what sort of looked like a skull. A human one. Suddenly, the eye holes in the skull started to glow a malicious orange. This surprised Alan and caused him to stumble backward. Alan: Ahh! U-um, guys! he yelled out as he bumped into the shelf behind him, causing some glass bottles to rattle. Everyone heard Alan call, prompting everyone to stop what they were doing and run toward his location. Their footsteps reverberated against the concrete floor as they hurried to join him; their expressions were a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Joe: Whats up? Oh! Good job, kid. You found something really interesting, he said while patting Alan''s shoulder. Alan: W-what is that? Is it alive? Rell: It depends on what you constitute as alive. That thing is undead. Specifically, a ghoul seed. Very difficult to make, as I understand. Alan: A ghoul seed? So, what. You plant this in the ground, and a ghoul grows out of it, he said facetiously. Rell: Basically. Alan: Wait, really? he said, surprised there was some truth to his joke. Rell: Yeah. You bury this in grave soil, and a ghoul will form out of it. Black mages use these things to clear out graveyards, as ghouls will dig up the dead and eat them. Jafar: I think I''ve heard of ghoul seeds, but I dont recall it having glowing eyes. Rell: The glowing eyes means its primed. There are a few things you have to do before you bury the ghoul seed, but it looks like all those steps were already done. All you need is some grave soil at this stage, and were going to have a ghoul on our hands. Hearing that, both Alan and Jafar took a step away from the jar with the skull in it. Nervous that it will suddenly turn into a full ghoul monster before them. Joe: Regardless, the main thing is that ghoul seeds are super illegal. Larry shouldnt have this. Dan: If he has this, that might mean Larry could be a black market dealer. Joe: Thats what I''m thinking. If hes moving illegal shit like this, he probably had some idea of what Sorin was doing. Heck, I bet Sorin was coming to this guy to get a hold of a bunch of other illegal stuff without the university''s knowledge. Alan started to look more attentive once he heard that there was a possibility that Larry was involved in supplying Sorin with the materials used to transform his friend into an undead. Rell: I dont think I saw anything in his records about selling anything illegal. Joe: No one in their right mind would write down selling something like a ghoul seed. Why risk people like us finding that record? Anyway, if he has this, theres probably more illegal shit around. Lets keep looking." Joes team continued searching around and eventually uncovered more illegal goods, along with the bin matching the lid they found upstairs, which was empty. Throughout the entire search, they found no signs of Larry anywhere. Intermission XI Within St. Rona Basilica in the holy city of Laval, Archbishop Beck was pacing back and forth in his office. The bishop had a troubled look on his face. Beck was a controlling man and needed things to be a certain way to maintain that sense of control. Otherwise, he becomes a ball of anxiety like he is now. His plans, which he had been painstakingly setting up for years, were now unraveling before his very eyes. Everything was going wrong. He had set out years ago to position himself as the next Speaker of Light within the church. He made alliances and countless deals with other high-ranking church members. Through that process, he created the largest unified faction within the church. The Beck'''' faction was the most powerful of the church factions and had enough sway to decide the next leader. However, there was still no end to the tension between the various sects within his faction. He had to apply a very delicate hand and mediate between the different groups to keep them cooperative with each other. The most troublesome were the ultraconservative members of his faction. They were hard to please and keep in line with others in his faction. They would disapprove of any little change within the church, which caused them to butt heads constantly with the more free-thinking and liberal members. The only way Beck could garner any of their support was to promise a rollback on some of the policies of the former Speaker of Light, Sheridan. Which he ultimately agreed to. Beck personally would have cut those members of the church out of his faction if he could, but the support of the ultraconservative members would lead to the additional support of many other high-ranking and more agreeable members. The idea was, that if Beck could get those stubborn members to agree to something and get behind him, he could be a unifying force for the church. Much of the support he got came from the idea of unity. Everyone in the church got a sense of troubled times ahead, and many desired a more united church to face those problems. Senior priests and bishops were all willing to compromise some of their beliefs to a degree if it meant cooperation in dealing with the more pressing issues facing the Church of Light. As the candidate who could unify the church, Beck''s position was the strongest. He should have been guaranteed to be the next Speaker of Light. But, now his faction was splintering and showed no signs of stopping. The extermination faction, an ultraconservative faction of the church, turned on him. Their zealotry of removing mutants from the church, and eventually the entire continent, flared up. They started racistly accusing Beck of secretly being a mutant and unworthy of becoming the next Speaker of Light because of it. Had it only been the extermination faction, Beck wouldn''t have been troubled. However, their dissent caused a domino effect within the church. Numerous influential members started to doubt Beck as a qualified candidate because of their dissent. They started to retract their support for him, which in turn caused more people and groups to retract their support. He had lost more than half his support in a week after the extermination faction started to denounce him. It wasn''t only the extermination faction denouncing him. The Reformation faction was also doubling down on denouncing him. The Reformation faction had always been opposed to Beck from the beginning. They weren''t the largest faction, but they had always been the biggest supporters of the changes that Sheridan brought to the church. They were, unsurprisingly, not supportive of Beck when he promised to roll back the former Speaker of Light policies. Most of the loss of support for Beck ended up going to the Reformation faction and their candidate for Speaker of Light, Dorine Beta. The Reformation faction almost overnight became one of the bigger factions, and their denouncement of Beck now carries more weight than it did a few weeks ago. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. This is all Crowley''s fault!! Beck screams internally. The reason for all this was because of Crowley''s recent actions. Crowley was still a relatively popular individual within the Church of Light due to how he operated and carried himself when he was the Hand of Light. Thus, his words still carried a lot of weight. So when he publicly denounced Beck and said he was retiring due to Beck forcing him to go against his morals, it infuriated a lot of people in the church. Beck then had to try and calm the people within his faction who were upset about this. Beck had underestimated how popular Crowley was. And, never imagined how much it hurt his chances of becoming the Speaker of Light to be denounced by the former Hand of Light. The archbishop assumed at the time that if Crowley went against him, he could just tarnish the former Hand of Light''s reputation and he would be fine. But in the manner in which Crowley denounced him, trying to ruin the priest''s reputation wouldnt help Beck now. In fact, it might make the situation for him even worse if he did. Any rumors he could start about Crowley now would likely not stick, and Beck might get blowback for trying to start a rumor about the Hand of Light now. So he couldnt discredit him. Crowley''s denouncement of Beck was a serious blow to the Archbishop''s power. But, the killing blow that set everything off was the speaker''s decrees. Beck was prepared for the scenario where Crowley went against him and released the decrees anyway. He had set everything up to suppress one or two decrees, showing the ultraconservative faction that he was serious about rolling back some of Sheridan''s policies. However, Beck was not prepared for the number of speaker decrees Crowley sent out. Why in light did Crowley have over a hundred decrees signed by Sheridan?!! he screamed internally again. The number of decrees issued was unprecedented in history. The sheer volume of these decrees would result in significant and far-reaching changes, enough to transform the church of Light into something resembling a completely new religion altogether. This was so unbelievable that even the exterminationists believed that Beck must have played a role in it. The extermination faction thought that he was somehow working with the reformists to introduce overwhelming changes. That was hardly the case, and the rationale the faction used to accuse him of this didnt make sense. But, it didnt matter. They believed it and denounced Beck while actively undermining his chances of becoming the Speaker of Light. Not that any opportunity to choose a new Speaker of Light was coming anytime soon now. The decrees were a pressing issue and had to be resolved before a new leader could be selected. There were so many decrees, and most of them would not likely be adopted in the church. Each decree had to be debated and voted on before the church could decide whether to adopt or overturn them, and that was a long process for one speaker decree. There were hundreds of decrees. Even with Becks veto power as an Archbishop, he could only use that on a few of the speaker''s decrees. It would still be years before the rest were all resolved. It was chaos. Factions were breaking apart, and new allegiances were forming. Infighting was at an all-time high in the church because of all these decrees. With how everything was going, Beck wasn''t concerned about becoming the Speaker anymore. He was more focused on trying to keep the church intact. Beck: I need to get things under control. At the rate everything is going, power is shifting within the church. There is so much infighting going on now that were in danger of a schism. We risk becoming like the Church of Light in the eastern continent. Divided among countless faction lines, he said to no one in particular. Beck continued to pace back for another ten minutes. Trying to construct a new plan of action to bring back some sense of harmony within the church. Suddenly, the door to his office swung open, and a young man in priest robes rushed in. The man was breathing heavily and likely ran here. Priest: Huff, huff, your holiness. Im sorry to barge in like this, but I have important news. The archbishop sighed. Beck: What is it now? Priest: The disagreement within the Witch Hunters has climaxed. Zur Volueen and a bunch of his men have separated themselves from the Witch Hunters and the church. They''re forming a new organization called the Purifiers. Beck: Oh no. The schism, its already happening. Chapter 70 - Dinner Date Mycomancy is an advanced form of magic that is derived from plant magic, Dendromancy. Originally created for purely agricultural purposes, this type of magic allows for the manipulation of various types of fungi. It can stimulate rapid growth resulting in giant mushrooms. The fungi can also be manipulated through this type of magic to take on countless unique qualities that are both useful for food and pharmaceutical production. Mycomancy is also very flexible as a type of magic. While not primarily known for its offensive capabilities, mushrooms can be altered through mycomancy to take on qualities that would be helpful in combat situations. An example being boom-shrooms, a type of mushroom that can violently explode and only exist through the use of mycomancy. As such, this magic can be used in situations where its user is required to fight. However, mushroom magic is more known for its non-combat uses. In terms of food production, Mycomancy can create edible mushrooms that can grow and thrive in all kinds of harsh environmental conditions. As long as the mushrooms created with this magic have access to water, they can be grown almost anywhere. It also surprisingly doubles very well as a type of healing magic. In recent times, the most prominent example of this magic healing ability is the mycelium mesh. Developed and produced by archmage Yaren Zuzanna, this mycelium mesh is a pharmaceutical product that is capable of replicating human cells. Primarily used to allow those without healing magic to reattach severed limbs. As such, people capable of using this type of magic are highly sought out after. However, this magic is very rare. Due to the difficulty of learning and mastering this magic, there are only 53 recorded mages in the current day capable of using it. Advance SpellCraft, 4th Edition written by Oshrat Nebrod Within the Lockheart''s expensive apartment home. A fancy dinner was being held. It was in honor of Victor Lockheart, Seres oldest brother, who was visiting today. Most of the Lockheart family was sitting around an opulent dining room table lit by arcane candlelight. Adjacent to them, a grand window offered a captivating vista of the sprawling city below. At the head of the table was Edward Lockheart, father of Sere. His demeanor was that of a seasoned individual, with silver hair lending an air of refinement to his presence. Beside him sat Margaret Lockheart, his wife, who was an attractive woman in her middle-aged grace with chestnut-colored hair. On the opposite end sat Victor Lockheart, Edward''s son, who bore a striking resemblance to his father, sharing his silver-colored hair. Yet, Victor exuded a warmth and approachability that contrasted with his father''s much more stern demeanor, fostering a friendly atmosphere at the table. And, sitting between her father and brother was Sere. On the table, an assortment of delectable dishes was laid out. Everyone was helping themselves to the food. Ms. Lockheart poured her culinary passion into crafting a truly extravagant meal with the assistance of her husband. Serving a perfectly cooked succulent steak topped with a creamy white sauce made from expensive rock goat cheese. Accompanying it were buttery potatoes and delicately seasoned vegetables. It was a feast to behold. Everyone was enjoying the food. Sere wielded her knife with precision, slicing it into a tender chunk of steak and placing that piece in her mouth. She savored every bite, appreciating the effort her mother and father made to make this meal. Edward was the first to stop eating to address his son. Edward: So did your brother tell you why he couldnt join us today? Victor: Lewis told me his unit was doing some military drills up north near the Sloan Republic. Otherwise, he would''ve come with me today. Victor and his brother Lewis were both mages working in the Union military. Lewis held the rank of captain, leading a small company of soldiers. Meanwhile, Victor''s exceptional intellect and extraordinary talents propelled him to the fifth rank of general at a remarkably young age. Making him the youngest general in Union State history. While Victor held the modest title of a fifth-rank general, the lowest ranking for a general, his exceptional abilities were beyond question. Many speculated that had he devoted himself solely to Arcane studies, he might have surpassed even the legendary Tri-mages to become the youngest Archmage in history. Margaret: Thats such a shame. Youre always so busy out near the border of the warring states that we rarely all get to see you, Seres mother chimed in. Victor: I know. I wish I could come see you guys more often. Edward: Im more concerned about why they sent Lewis for training exercises near the Sloan Republic. There is an active civil war going on in Gix. I dont know why we have to worry about those slavers up there. I know theyre terrible people, but they''re not stupid enough to try and provoke a war with us. Victor: Its not a conflict with us the other generals are worried about. Its, um actually, I don''t think I''m allowed to tell you guys. Lets just say there''s trouble brewing in Sloan, and were preparing just in case. Sere was chewing her stake, listening to this conversation, before she swallowed and joined in. Sere: Lewis isn''t in any danger, is he? Victor: Dont worry. Its likely nothing. And, Lewis can handle himself. Anyway, I wanna hear from you. You got caught up in some insane conspiracy, I heard. You really managed to stop Sorin?" Sere: Oh, um yeah. Did you know him? Victor: Yeah. I took one of his classes when I was attending Graheel. I never thought he was a necromancer. Or that my little sis managed to stop him. How did you do it, by the way? Sere: Um, we managed to distract him long enough to get the big chandelier in the library to fall, and... she paused, unsure what to say. Whenever Sere was asked to recount the tale of what happened with Sorin, it made her feel uncomfortable. Each time she told the story, she did so without mentioning Cid, the real one who stopped Sorin. She felt undeserved credit was being attributed to her by not telling people about Cid. Edward: Victor, be more sensitive. One of her friends died during that whole thing. Stolen story; please report. Seres father sensed her unease and assumed it was related to the death of her friend, Cris. Victor: Ah! Im sorry, little sis. I didn''t want to upset you, he said apologetically. Sere: No, that''s fine. Margaret: While were on this topic and since youre here, could you talk some sense into your sister. Victor: Huh, whats going on? Margaret: She was offered admission into the Arcane Eye College but refused. Victor: Really?! Why would you refuse that little sis? I know you want to be a healer and all, and Silverwing College is famous for all that, but you still could have been a healing mage through the Arcane Eye. Edward: She would have to join the enforcers, he said as he took a bite of steak. Victor: Thats all? Pft, I would have still done it. Its been forever since a Lockheart got into the Arcane Eye. Edward: She would have had to work, and TRAIN, under Mitra. Victor: OhOK, I get it. You made the right choice, Sere. Margaret: Not you too! What is it about this Mitra woman that makes you all agree with Seres decision to reject joining the Arcane Eye? Edward: Honey, you dont know what Mitra is like. Victor: Yeah Edward is a retired combat instructor for the university, and Victor attended the university as a Lionheart student. Both men knew exactly what Mitra was like and found Seres rejection of that offer perfectly reasonable. Sere: Um, that is not really why I she said before getting cut off by her father. Edward: It doesn''t matter. Regardless of what you choose, I''ll support you as your father. Its what parents are supposed to do. Right, honey? Seres mother let out a deep sigh. Margaret: I suppose. Edward: Besides, not many people can say they rejected an offer from Lazarus Vaal. That''s pretty impressive in itself. Sere: I guess. But, I''m getting a lot of unwanted attention because of it. I really didnt want fame like this. People are constantly trying to interview me. Edward: Dont worry. I talked to your uncle. He knows how to handle those annoying paparazzi, and the attention should die down soon. Sere: Thanks, dad. Edward: Youre welcome. Unfortunately, I couldnt do anything for your two friends. They''ve been pumping out articles about them like no tomorrow since the university announced the Sleuth-Hawks. So expected to still be hounded down when around those two in public. Sere nodded. Suddenly, a beeping sound could be heard in another room. Margaret: Oh! Thats the timer for the cake. I better go take it out of the oven, she said, before standing up and walking into another room. Sere''s excitement surged to the surface, bubbling over with a gleeful smile. The mere mention of her mother serving cake transformed her demeanor into that of a child. Sere: Oh, man. Mom''s famous blam berry cake. I cant wait, she said while licking her lips. Victor: Hahaha. Same old Sere. Still crazy about Moms cakes. Better be careful and hold back on dessert, or youre going to ruin your girlish figure. In the blink of an eye, with a murderous rage, a fork was sent flying right at Victors head. It cut through the air with a hissing sound. The glint of its metallic surface shimmered as it hurtled toward its target with deadly precision. The object''s speed and power were enhanced with aether and would be dangerous if it hit a normal person. Fortunately, Victor was a Lockheart, and Lockheart''s are not normal. With a swift movement that matched the fork''s blinding speed, Victor intercepted the utensil effortlessly. He caught the fork between two fingers. The impact of his catch created a small shockwave, causing the nearby curtains to flutter briefly. Sere had thrown her fork at her brother and had put everything she had into it. Using enhancement magic, she heightened her physical abilities to their peak. She also coated the fork in aether to allow it to cut through the air better. From an outsider''s perspective, it looked like a legitimate attack against Victor''s life. Victor: Whoa! Your accuracy is as good as ever. But, you put a lot of power into that. It wouldn''t have harmlessly bounced off me. What if I didnt block and let that hit like usual? he said playfully. Sere clicked her tongue in annoyance. Sere: As if something like that could ever hurt a monster like you. And if you did get hurt, Ill patch you up, painfully! she said with rage in her eyes. Victor: Man, still as scary as ever. Edward: How old are you and youre still doing this? Stop teasing your sister. You know she is sensitive about her weight. Margaret: Did someone cast a spell? You two better not be fighting! she yelled from another room, detecting the fluctuation of aether from Seres throw. Sere took a deep breath, concerned that angering her mother might result in missing out on a coveted slice of cake. She made a conscious effort to quell her emotions, allowing the tension around the dinner table to dissipate. Soon enough, the Lockhearts resumed their casual banter, with Victor regaling his father and sister with tales of his military adventures. Laughter and shared stories abounded as they settled back into the familiar rhythm of family life. ?????????????????? In the heart of the Graheels east end, amidst the labyrinthine alleys and streets that would be lit with neon at night, were John and his loyal canine companion, trotting faithfully by his side. The street was lined with charming old buildings that were rebuilt and modernized. John and Lunar walked in comfortable silence, their footsteps echoing against the quiet backdrop of the neighborhood. Occasionally, Lunar would pause to sniff at a particularly intriguing scent, his tail wagging furiously as he explored the familiar streets. It was the middle of the day, and there was hardly anyone around, evident by the countless close establishments and almost completely vacant sidewalks, save for the occasional passerby. John was sure that this area must be teeming with activity during the nighttime hours. But, during the day, there was hardly anybody around. This was a part of the city that was much more active during the night than the day. Several well-dressed mutant men wearing dog collars passed by John, their sharp suits catching his eye. They offered a subtle nod of acknowledgment, a small gesture of friendliness, before resuming their journey onward. Hmm, they were all wearing dog collars. Actually, almost everyone I''ve seen around here wears dog collars. The people in the Red-light district have such a weird fashion sense. John thought to himself. While it was true that the Red-light district wasn''t as active during the day, there were still some establishments that operated at this time. Among them were restaurants, whose doors are usually open to cater to both the day and night crowds, thanks to rotating staff schedules. But, they were closed. And, that was because of the people with dog collars that walked by John. Unaware of the significance of the dog collars as a symbol of high-ranking Nighthound members, John perceived them merely as an odd fashion statement for those who lived around here. He never imagined that they were the ones who closed down all the stores along the path John was walking. The Nighthounds continued to do everything in their power to keep people away from John. Beyond his line of sight, they orchestrated a concerted effort to maintain a perimeter around him, and dispatched groups of their more imposing members to intimidate and deter anyone who dared to approach him. They did this all while acting as just casual bystanders going about their business, as per Kyles orders. None of them were told anything about John. Despite lacking a full comprehension of the reasons behind their actions, the Nighthounds tailing John dutifully carried out their orders without hesitation. Their loyalty to their leader, Yin Whitetail, was unwavering, prompting them to obediently follow orders even when the rationale eluded them. They recognized that John held a profound connection to the Nightqueen, though the precise nature of this relationship remained shrouded in mystery. This caused a lot of rumors and speculation among some of the higher-ranking members of the Nighthound. John''s gaze drifted into the distance, where the imposing silhouette of his destination, the Night Tower, loomed against the skyline. The sheer magnitude of the structure was awe-inspiring; its size dwarfed even iconic landmarks like the Eiffel Tower from his original world. Inside that building was a restaurant, where he would meet Yin. Chapter 71 - Business Meal On the 13th floor of the Night Tower was a massive, lavish restaurant, called the Harmony. Dax sat at a table in the bustling restaurant, and across him sat two other people who had recently ascended to mid-tier status within the Nighthounds. Dax was a mutant that had the appearance of a bird-man, he boasted the head of a hawk, complete with a sharp yellow beak and a striking array of brown and white feathers. However, despite his avian features, Dax lacked the wings that might have granted him the gift of flight. Beneath the typical attire of a Nighthound and feathers laid a normal humanoid body. The restaurant where they sat was the most exclusive establishment on the east end, a place reserved solely for the Nighthounds. Renowned for its extraordinary cuisine that few could partake in, since one needed to be a mid-rank and up Nighthound member. This was a place that two of the three people at the table were excited about. Tasha and Garth were mostly human-looking, except for Tasha''s eyes, which looked like slitted cat eyes. They both wore the typical fancy suits and dog collars that many people in the upper ranks dress in to help distinguish them from regular people. The two new "hounds," as mid-rank members were often called, radiated an almost childlike excitement. They had heard about this place and always dreamed of one day eating here to try some of the gourmet delights, a place only reserved for select members of the Nighthounds. That was why they were all here. Tasha and Garth had recently earned their full hound status, and this meal was a celebration of their achievement. Although, it should be Zayne here to celebrate with these two and not me. Dax thought to himself. Zayne was a mentor to these two, and he was the one who helped them become hounds. Unfortunately, the rottweiler-mutant was feeling under the weather, so he had entrusted Dax with the task of celebrating with them in his stead. As a senior member, Dax was also asked to guide the two new hounds, helping them navigate the responsibilities and privileges that came with their new rank. Tasha: Hmm, what should I order? she said as she flipped through the menu. Garth: Whatever it is, make sure it doesn''t break the bank. Dax: I wouldnt worry about that. Everything in the restaurant is free for hounds. Tasha: Whoa! Really!? Im going to order so much food then. There is a ton of stuff on this menu Ive never heard of. Dax: Just be careful. If you order too much food that you cant eat it all, youll piss off the chef. He doesn''t like people wasting food. And, he has enough authority to keep you in his kitchen as a dishwasher for years if you make him particularly mad. Garth: Really? Who is the chef? Dax: Its Freddy Voux, an alpha. The last person who pissed him off two years ago is still cleaning dishes even now. So, consider this your fair warning. Within the Nighthounds, an alpha held the third-highest rank, wielding significantly more power than Dax. If Tasha or Garth incurred the wrath of an alpha, Dax would be powerless to intervene. Only the ranks of "Hound Master" and the Nightqueen herself had the authority to override an alpha''s orders. Garth: Hes an Alpha? Why is he working as a chef? Dax: No idea. But, hes a damn good one. Tasha: Hmm, I think I figured out what Im going to have, she said as she placed the menu down. She then turned toward Garth. Do you know what you''re having? Garth: Not really. Um, do you have any suggestions? he said, directed at Dax. Dax: Go for the chicken wings. You can never go wrong with that. Tasha and Garth exchanged puzzled glances in response to Dax''s suggestion. While it wasn''t right to presume that a mutant inherently shared a deep bond with the animals they resembled, Tasha and Garth found the idea difficult not to entertain. The irony of a bird-man recommending chicken wings wasn''t lost on them. Garth: Oh, OK. Sure, Ill try that. Dax nodded and gestured for a nearby waiter to come over and take their orders. Garth and Dax opted for chicken wings, while Tasha chose a dish called a Gix Foudu. The waiter jotted down what they wanted and promptly headed to the kitchen to relay the order. Garth: Whats Gix Foudu? Tasha: Dont know. Just sounded funny, so I ordered it. Garth: Right, he mumbled before turning toward Dax. So, whats wrong with Zanye? Dax: Hm, hes been under the weather for the last little while. Apparently, hes having nightmares and vomiting a lot. Tasha: Its nothing serious, is it? Dax: Im sure hell bounce back in no time. Hes a tough guy. Something like he said before being interpreted by a ringing sound. The restaurant fell into an abrupt and eerie silence. All chatter ceased entirely. Garth and Tasha looked around frantically. At nearby tables, other new hounds also glanced around in confusion, trying to understand what was happening. The staff had frozen in place, and the regular patrons sat still without uttering a word. The only sound that pierced the silence was the ringing of a bell in the distance. Once the bell finally stopped, the usual hum of conversation and activity resumed as if nothing had happened. Tasha: What in the burning abyss was that? Why did everyone go silent all of a sudden? Dax: It was the warning bell. If you hear that, youre supposed to shut up and not make a peep. Tasha: Why? Dax: To make sure everyone hears it. Garth: But, what is the bell warning? Dax: You two just became hounds. So, you wouldnt know. But, there is this guy. He has red eyes, black hair, and a white dog that follows him everywhere. If you see this man, youre not supposed to talk or interact with him unless he comes to you. Most importantly, you need to show him the utmost respect and act like average people who know nothing about him. Its all orders from the big boss herself, the Nightqueen. And, that bell is a warning to everyone that guy is nearby. Tasha: Huh? Why? Who is this guy? Dax: No one knows. No details were given about this guy other than his appearance. Now, take my advice and be sure to steer clear of him. I don''t know what his exact connection is with Madame Yin, but if rumors are true and you disrespect him, even by accident, it would be no different from disrespecting the big boss herself. Tasha: Hes that important of a person? she yelped out in surprise. Garth: What are the rumors about this guy? Dax: Well, you didnt hear it from me. But, I heard that guy is secretly Yins lover. Tasha: Ohhh. I see. That''s why no one knows anything about this guy. Yin was known to be very secretive. No one besides the Hound Masters interacted with her and they did not disseminate much information about the Nightqueen. Consequently, the idea of Yin having a lover and attempting to keep it concealed did not seem entirely implausible to many within the Nighthounds. The possibility of a hidden relationship seemed consistent with her character, adding another layer of mystery to the enigmatic Nightqueen. Dax: Yup. Ive even heard it might be more than that. She might have a whole secret family with this guy. Kids and all. Garth: Wow. Dax: But, dont let anyone know I told you this shit. Its not good to speculate about our boss'' relationships. It could get you in he said before being interrupted by someone yelling. ???: WHO THE FUCK DO THINK YOU ARE!! Everyone in the restaurant turned their heads toward the commotion near the entrance. A cat-mutant with tabby-cat-colored fur, wearing a fancy suit and a dog collaridentifying him as a houndwas yelling at another man. In stark contrast to the cat-mutant''s attire, the man being berated wore a simple black vest over a white shirt, looking very casual compared to the rest of the restaurant. His striking red eyes and the white dog standing loyally beside him only added to the odd scene. Tasha: That''s notthe guy you were just talking about, is it? The one getting screamed at? Dax: Ohhhh, Light. This is not good. That cat-mutant must be a new hound and not know. He wouldnt have done this otherwise. Once the Nightqueen hears this, hes so dead. Garth and Tasha''s eyes widened in surprise as Dax confirmed the identity of the person being yelled at. Instantly, they directed their full attention back to the confrontation unfolding before them. From what could be seen, there was shattered glass on the ground and what appeared to be red wine splattered all over the cat-mutant''s suit. Red-Eyed Man: Im terribly sorry. I didnt mean to bump into you. It was an accident, he said while looking panicked. Cat-mutant: Ive spilled wine all over my brand new suit because of you! This was supposed to be my big celebration day, and you ruined it! Red-Eyed Man: Again, Im so sorry. Ill pay for a new suit for you. Cat-mutant: Thats not going to cut it. Youre going to pay a lot more for this, he said as he reached out to grab the red-eyed man''s shirt. The large dog beside the man seemed poised to act when another individual approached the cat-mutant, seizing the mutant''s arm before it could touch the red-eyed man. Cat-mutant: Who darWha? The man who grabbed the cat-mutant''s arm was a towering, muscular bull-man with brownish-black fur. He had yellow eyes, cow-like ears, and a long face. The top of his head was crowned with a pair of pointed horns. The mutant-man wore the white uniform designated for the head chef of the kitchen. This was Freddy Voux. Freddy: No fighting in my restaurant. Cat-mutant: F-Freddy? he said, sounding both scared and familiar with the bull-man. Freddy let go of the cat-mutant and turned towards the red-eyed man, before bowing apologetically. Freddy: Im very sorry sir, I hope my employee didnt bother you. Hes new, so please forgive him. Red-Eyed Man: Oh, no. It is completely my fault. Freddy: Is that so? he said as he turned back toward the cat-mutant. Cat-mutant: Freddy, t-that asshole spilled wine all over me. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Freddy: Youre drunk. Cat-mutant: Huh? Freddy: I know its hard to tell for some mutants if they''re drunk, but I can smell alcohol in your breath. It''s excessive. You probably drunkenly bump into him, he said while pointing to the red-eyed man with his thumb. Red-Eyed Man: No, it really was my fault. Let me make this up to him by paying for the damage to his clothing. Freddy: Please, allow me to handle that. Red-Eyed Man: But he said, before getting cut off by Freddy. Freddy: You are an honored guest of Madam Yin. She would never forgive me if I made you pay for anything in my restaurant, even for this. Red-Eyed Man: Its really no trouble. But, if youre sure Freddy: I am. The usual VIP room is prepared. Please get comfortable while I handle this. The red-eyed man nodded and followed another waiter to a private room deeper within the restaurant. Freddy watched intently, his gaze never wavering, until he saw the red-eyed man enter the soundproof VIP room. Once the door closed, Freddy turned back to the cat-mutant. The cat-mutant wore a dumbfounded expression as he processed what Freddy had said. Realization slowly dawned on him, and his demeanor shifted and became even more fearful. Cat-mutant: M-m-m-madam YIN!!! That guy knows the Nightqu he said, before being interrupted by getting hit in the head. Freddy had punched the cat-mutant square in the face, sending the cat-man tumbling to the ground. As the cat-man lay sprawled on the floor, he looked up to see Freddy looming over him, his eyes blazing with fury. Freddy''s face contorted with rage; every muscle tensed, giving him a menacing appearance. Freddy: YOU FUCKING DUMB PIECE OF SHIT!!!! You have no idea how close you were to getting fucked up! If you had laid a single hand on that guy, youd be wishing for death! he screamed. The cat-man could only shudder as blood dripped from his nose while Freddy yelled at him. Freddy then turned to face the entire restaurant, where groups of Nighthound members sat around, having just witnessed the entire altercation. The room fell silent, the air thick with tension, as every eye fixed on Freddy, who now stood as the center of attention. The diners exchanged uneasy glances between each other. Freddy: For any new hounds here, stay the fuck away from the red-eyed man! This is your only warning. Next time this happens, Ill let Samson deal with ya! The threat of Samson caused everyone in the restaurant to start chattering. The Sadist '''' was well known to all Nighthound members, even to mutts at the bottom of the hierarchy. Invoking Samson''s name was a serious threat, as he handled all problems with either torture or murder. Freddy: You three, he said while pointing at some nearby waiters. Take this fucker to the kitchen and kick him a few more times before putting him on dishwasher, he added, gesturing toward the cat-man on the ground. The waiters did as they were told, hoisting the cat-man off the ground and carrying him to the kitchen. Freddy trailed closely behind, his eyes fixed on the struggling figure. ?????????????????? John casually entered the VIP room, following closely behind a waiter. The walls of the room were adorned in a dark shade of purple, with paintings of abstract art hanging elegantly from them. On one side of the room, a large open window offered a view of the bustling street below, letting in some natural light that contrasted with the dim interior. The centerpiece of the room was a round table draped with a pristine white tablecloth with two full sets of plates, silverware, and crystal glasses. A comfortable leather booth seat curved around one side of the table. Off to the side, an ice bucket stood ready with a bottle of fine wine chilling within it, completing the space as a place of luxury and comfort. The waiter gestured for John to take a seat. With a nod of acknowledgment, John slid into the plush leather booth and settled in. He adjusted himself to find the most comfortable position, feeling the smooth, cool leather against his back. Waiter: Sir, would you like a menu, or will it be the usual? John: The usual. Waiter: Very good, sir, he said with a bow before exiting the isolated room. John had visited the Harmony many times, and his usual order was always the chef''s recommendation for the day. Due to his difficulty reading a lot of the local script, John preferred to rely on the chef''s expertise rather than struggle with a menu he couldnt fully understand. This approach not only spared him the challenge of deciphering an unfamiliar language of this world, but also ensured he could enjoy a variety of different dishes at the chef''s discretion. He glanced over to the corner of the room and noticed a cozy dog bed where Lunar was resting. Beside the bed sat a pair of silver dishesone filled with water and the other that was currently empty. Lunar looked content, nestled comfortably in the soft bed. They even made a little spot for Lunar. How nice. I guess this VIP room must be exclusively for me and Yin. Man How far that little girl has gotten since I met her all those years ago. John thought to himself. John began to reminisce, recalling the first time he met Yin. She had been a sad, homeless fox-girl with nowhere to go, and her plight had tugged at his heartstrings. He had wanted to offer her a place to stay, but the circumstances of his own living situation were far from normal. Although the Mystic Emporium was safe enough for him to live in, he wasn''t certain it would be the same for others. The store was an unpredictable place, with objects constantly moving around when not looking and strange sounds echoing through its halls once in a while. It wasn''t the kind of environment in which he felt comfortable inviting someone else to live. As such, he found another place for her to live and provided her with some money to help her get on her feet. The assistance he offered all those years ago had developed into everything surrounding him now. Yin now owned the very building he was in, along with substantial chunks of land throughout the east end of the city. Through the Nighthounds, she amassed significant power and wealth, transforming not only her own life but also the lives of those around her. To John, the Nighthounds seemed like a massive conglomerate led by Yin. He had no idea about the criminal activities the organization was involved in. He was unaware of the murders, smuggling, money laundering, and illegal brothels that had been their past methods of operation. Although the Nighthounds had gradually shifted away from many of their explicitly illegal activities, they were not entirely free from their past. They still resorted to murder if someone posed a threat. Over time, however, the Nighthounds had become more of a sleeping beastless overtly active but still dangerous when provoked. Suddenly, the door to the room opened, revealing the familiar fox-woman who had been on John''s mind. Yin entered, wearing her usual long black and white silk robes, reminiscent of traditional Asian attire from John''s original world. Her nine giant, fluffy white tails swayed gracefully behind her. With a radiant smile, she approached John with bubbly excitement, her eyes sparkling with joy. She really looks like a Kitsune from my world''s folklore. John thought to himself. Yin: Darling, youre here. John: Yin, So good to see you. Yin immediately slid into the booth seat beside John, wrapping herself around his left arm. She pressed close, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder like a cat showing affection. I wonder if this is a fox-mutant thing? John wondered about the behavior of rubbing Yins cheek against him. To anyone watching, it was clear that Yin was smitten with John. Anyone observing would easily assume that the rumors about John and Yin being lovers were true. However, there wasnt any serious relationship between them like that. John was well aware of Yin''s affection for him, but he felt there were too many obstacles preventing any meaningful partnership. First, he had already experienced heartbreak with his previous wife and didnt want to risk going through that pain again. Second, there was a large age gap of at least thirty years between them. While John didnt believe there was anything inherently wrong with relationships between two consenting adults, the age disparity still made him uncomfortable. More importantly, he saved Yin from a dire situation when she was a teenager, helping her out of poverty and finding her a home when she was homeless. No matter what he said or did, pursuing a relationship with her after all he had done for her would always feel coercive and manipulative, and he didnt want to do that to her. Most importantly, John had a lot of weird stuff going on. Due to his inherent connection with otherworldly forces, he wasn''t entirely sure it was safe for him to pursue something as intimate as love. He feared that he might somehow entrap someone else into Onyxs whims, as he currently is. He couldnt forgive himself if that happened, especially if it was someone he truly did love. As a result, John would deny her advances or just act oblivious to them, trying not to hurt her feelings. He only cared for her as a father would a daughter. Yin: You really should visit me more often. John: Well, youre busy. And, I hate to interrupt your work. Yin: I know. Work has been such a pain lately, she said as she finally let go of Johns arm and sat up straight. I have been dealing with some people encroaching on my business in Loffa. John: Oh, really? Yin: Yeah. Actually, I was wondering if you could help me out with that? John: Im not that savvy when it comes to running a business. Yin: Oh, youre so humble. Your advice has always helped me. Im sure you might have some insight into what I''m dealing with. Besides, hearing from an outside perspective is helpful regardless. John: If you say so. Yin smiled at John''s response. This was the real reason she asked him out today. While she loved spending time with John, she wanted his help with dealing with the cult of the Deep Ones in Loffa. She understood John all too well and knew she couldn''t simply ask him for assistance directly. The unwritten rule that most of his patrons quickly learned was to act mundane in their interactions with him. She had to ask him in a roundabout way. Therefore, Yin carefully framed the entire matter as a business conflict, hoping to coax some useful information out of John while acting like a normal business tycoon. John: So, what is exactly your problem? Yin: It is as I said. I have some business operations in Loffa, and they''re getting disrupted by another business forcing their way into that city. John: What exactly is this business they''re disrupting, if you can say? I understand if you cant expand on the entirety of the details. Because of business secrets and all. I get it. Yin took a few seconds to think. She was trying to frame her response in terms without mentioning the Cult of the Deep Ones. Yin: How do I explain? I guess the best way to describe them is as a corporation that was into fishing, but suddenly got into shipping instead. And, they are cannibalizing everything in Loffa now because of it. John: Hmm, shipping? So, this company has completely monopolized shipping out of Loffa? Yin: Not completely, but they''re trying. John: I see. They''re trying to control an aspect of the supply chain. They''re trying to make a monopoly. Thats not good. Loffa is a major port city north of here, and a lot of goods probably go through it. And, they probably won''t stop at Loffa. If this company is trying to build a true monopoly, theyll try to seize control over every major port they can. I know that monopolies are never good for people, especially for the supply chain. That could lead to an increase in prices for everything, hurting everyone, from businesses to everyday people. I see why Yin is so concerned. John thought to himself. John: Is it just Loffa? Or, are they in any other major port cities? Yin: No. Loffa is the first one they''re attempting. But, Im sure they sneakily have control over some other smaller coastal communities I''m unaware of. So they went after the smaller ports before going after the bigger ones. John thought to himself. John: I assume you''re trying to stop them? Yin: Yes. But, one of the businesses weve been working with has turned on us in favor of the shipping corporation. Ive had to send one of my best workers to try to sort that out, while I try to figure out a way to stop them from taking over Loffa. John: Hmm, all sounds very problematic. Yin: It seems that you understand what Im going through, she said, followed by a long sigh. Have any idea of what I should do or anything I need to watch out for? If I recall how monopolies work, they often dont stop in one industry. So maybe this company is trying to expand somewhere else. If I control the ports, that means I control half the supply chain. The other half of the chain would be the transportation of the goods from the port to everything on the mainland. So, they may be going after that as well. John silently pondered to himself. John: Well firstly, I dont think theyd stop at Loffa by the sounds of things. Yin: I dont think so either, but it seems all their focus is on Loffa for now. So, that is where my focus is as well. John: Well, you obviously cant let them have Loffa, but keep an eye out for anyone they''re working with. They''re probably going to try and work with another company on the mainland, probably a big one too if they can. Yin: A big one? she said, sounding confused. Throughout the entire conversation, Yin had framed the Cult of the Deep Ones as merely a "company," maintaining that usual act of mundanity around John. Therefore, whenever "company" was mentioned, she believed it referred to a cult. Given this context, Yin could only assume that a "big company" meant a large and powerful cult. Specifically, one of the big three cults. This realization was deeply worrying to Yin. Yin initially believed that the Cult of the Deep Ones was merely attempting to control the underworld in Loffa and reestablish their presence on the mainland after being driven out to sea hundreds of years ago. She hadn''t considered the possibility that they might be collaborating with one of the big three. Cults typically didn''t work together. John: Exactly, particularly a company that can move a significant volume of goods or one that stands to benefit greatly from whats being transportedor both. Any of the three could help the Cult of the Deep Ones move materials or supplies. But, wait? Are they actually transporting something? I know I framed them as a shipping company, but I wasn''t seriously suggesting they were moving goods. What are they moving? Is it just illegal goods for money? Or is it something more? Yin pondered to herself. John: Also, it might not just be a big one. There might be a bunch of little companies that could move goods along with the big one. And now there are more cults in Loffa than the big three or Deep Ones? What the heck is going on in that city?! Yin thought to herself. Yin: This I haven''t considered. This is deeply worrying. Ugh, what should I do, John? John: Well, Im unaware of the ins and outs of your business to make any serious suggestions. And, I''m probably not qualified to know them anyway. But if I were you, I would try working with some of my other business partners to try and contain this hostile company if possible. Hes obviously telling me to work with the others. Ugh, does that mean I have to ask that bitch Scarlett for help? Yin groaned internally. Yin: Isee. Thank you. John: No need for thanks, he said with a smile. Suddenly, a waiter entered the room, carrying plates of food for both John and Yin. For the next hour, they would both engage in idle conversation while they savored the delicious meal prepared for them. Chapter 72 - Drinking Acquaintances The warding stones, also known as the sky pillars in some places, are the largest standing structures in the entire known world. They are a series of giant rectangular pillars of stone over 8000 feet high and 4000 feet wide (2438 x 1219 meters), marking the border to the wildlands and the rest of the world. It is said that they were built during the time when the giant civilization was at its peak. Believed that the Warding Stones were constructed to keep the strange phenomena of the wildlands at bay. Even though it is not confirmed, people speculate that these structures protect the rest of the world from the creatures that roam the north because the strange creatures of the wildlands never approach the Warding Stones. However, this is pure speculation. As the giants of today refuse to confirm or deny these theories. These stone pillars appear to be featureless rectangular shapes from a distance, lacking any architectural ornamentation. However, on up-closer inspection, there are countless hieroglyphs etched into the sides of the structures, in a language that is not of any known anywhere. These mysterious symbols are made even more peculiar by the fact that they continually change over time. The writing on the warding stone today is not the same as the one from two years ago. It appears that the magic employed by the giant to create these structures also causes the writing on them to constantly change, rendering any attempts at translating them useless. The process of the shifting writing is very slow and isn''t immediately noticeable. These stones are also indestructible and unaffected by gravity. They are anchored in space by some kind of unknown magic. What''s more, they are built hundreds of miles apart from each other, and even go into the ocean. It was by observing the warding stones in the sea that it was determined that these stones were locked in space. The structures float perfectly in place above the sea floor without ever sinking or moving. Researchers of these stones suspect that there may be some connection to the gray monoliths that border the Graylands, suggesting that the Greywalkers may have assisted the giants in their construction. At the end of the day, the origin and purpose of the warding stones remain unknown. However, if you have never laid eyes on these impressive structures, it is definitely worth a visit. Basking in their sheer size is an experience you should have at least once in your lifetime. The Great Mysteries Of The Western Continent by Sam Cox In the evening at the Salty Pickle bar, Jack stood behind the counter, calmly cleaning a dirty glass while humming a tune. At the moment, he was the only one in the bar. It had been a slow day, with only a few customers who had stopped by earlier for drinks. This was expected, as mid-week traffic was always much slower than bustling weekends. Despite the quiet atmosphere, Jack enjoyed the peacefulness, taking the opportunity to ensure everything was spotless and ready for busier times. Suddenly, the ring of the front doorbell broke the bar''s quiet. Jack glanced up from his work to see a familiar figure dressed in a trench coat and fedora: Joe Striker. However, Jack''s attention was immediately drawn to the black eye adorning Joe''s face, a new addition since their last interaction. Seeing Joe walk in, Jack dropped the glass he was cleaning, which shattered on the floor, breaking the calmness of the bar. Jack: Oh fuck NO! Get the fuck out of here, JOE! he yelled. Joe: Calm down, Jack. Jack: NO! Whatever you are here for, I don''t want anything to do with you. I know that you pissed off the Nighthounds somehow, and I dont need any of that smoke on me. Joe: You heard about that? Jack: Yeah! I also heard you managed to get fucking Cory killed. Joe: I didnt get anyone killed. It was fucking Corys stupidity that did him in. Jack: I dont care. I just know youre involved somehow. So get the fuck out. I dont have any info for you! Joe: Im not here for information. Im here for a drink. Jack: Go somewhere else for it! Joe: I would, but I cant. My usual drinking spot is gone. Maxwell retired and closed his bar down last week. And, I''m too tired to look around for another decent bar to drink at. Jack: Maxwell retired and closed his bar last week? I didnt hear about that. Joe: How the fuck do you know about the bullshit with me and Corys death, but you dont know about another bar closing thats literally two streets away from here? he said with a look of disbelief. Jack: Im well-informed, but I dont know everything happening in this city. Im not the Nighthounds. Joe: Whatever, just give me a drink, and then Ill fuck off. Jack stared intensely at Joe for a second, trying to gauge the policeman''s sincerity. The air between them grew tense as Jack tried to read Joe''s intentions. Jack had a moment where he considered throwing a bottle at the police officer before he let out a long sigh. Jack: Fine. But, I swear to Light. If youre trying to fish information out of me. Joe walked up to the bar and took a seat, his expression unreadable. Without a word, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash, slamming it onto the counter with a decisive thud. Joe: Whiskey on the rocks. And, give me the whole bottle. Jack: Ah, fuck. This bullshit again, he said, as he recalled a similar interaction he had with Father Crowley. Joe: Oh, youre experiencing random bullshit twice, too? Jack: I guess? You''re the second person whos asked for the whole bottle recently. But, what random bullshit did you experience? Joe: A haunted house. Jack: Haunted house? Actually I dont want to know. Joe: Whatever. Give me my drink already so I can get out of here. Jack shook his head and grumbled under his breath before reaching under the counter for a glass. He retrieved a premade round ice cube from a nearby icebox and dropped it into the glass. Turning around, he grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the bar shelf and poured the amber liquid over the ice. With a resigned sigh, he handed the drink to Joe. Joe took the glass and swirled the liquid around, his gaze fixed intently on the drink as if lost in thought. He took slow, deliberate sips, savoring the flavor with each mouthful. The atmosphere in the bar grew quieter as Joe immersed himself in the moment. As the policeman savored his whiskey, Jack nodded with approval, appreciating the way Joe wasn''t simply knocking back the liquid, but taking the time to savor and enjoy it. While still holding the bottle of whiskey, Jack quickly placed the bottle under the bar table, out of Joes reach. Joe: Hey! I asked for the whole bottle. Jack: I have a policy of not letting my customers drink themselves into oblivion. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Joe: Well, then youre a pretty shitty barman then. Not giving a paying customer what he asked for. Jack: Fuck you. I''m a great bartender. And, what people want and what they need are different. So, talk to me. Why are you like this? Joe: Like what? Jack: Why are you trying to drown your sorrows at the bottom of the bottle? Joe: Pft, thats why you''re a terrible bartender. Im not depressed. Im tired. A lot of shit has happened recently to me, and its just catching up. You should know, since you seem to know I was in some pretty deep shit recently with the Nighthounds. Jack: Only heard you were involved, not any of the details. Joe: You seemed to have heard about the details of Cory''s death. Which, you''re not going to get pissed off at me about? Are you? Jack: Cory was a fucking snitch for Rob before he betrayed the Skullcrushers. A few of my buddies who were trying to get out were killed because of him. So, I dont actually give a fuck. I might have even tried to strangle that asshole myself back in the day. Joe: Well, Cory didnt actually betray the Skullcrusher. He was just pretending to embed himself into the Nighthounds before Rob disappeared. Jack: Oooh. Thats why hes dead. Yeah, the Nighthounds are huge into loyalty. They wouldnt like that. Joe: It was more than that, but whatever. Just give me the bottle already. Jack sighed with a deep resignation before reluctantly reaching for the bottle of whiskey. He pulled it out from beneath the counter and set it down in front of Joe. Jack: You know that youre very shitty at making peace with other people. Joe: Youre talking like I''m dying, he said as he took the bottle of whiskey and poured a little more into his glass. Jack: Aren''t you? You pissed off the Nighthounds. So, they''re probably going to come after you. Joe: Your information gathering is terrible. No, the Nighthounds are not coming after me. Theylet me go. An awkward silence hung in the air after Joe''s words, causing Jack to pause for a brief moment as he processed what had just been said. Jack: They let you go! he shouted out in surprise. But youre a cop. Joe, they don''t let people like you go. How in the burning abyss did you get out of that? Jack was all too familiar with the violent and ruthless nature of the Nighthounds. The Skullcrusher and Nighthounds, along with the police, had been at the center of the Bloody Days event all those years ago. As a former Skullcrusher gang member, Jack had witnessed firsthand the brutal tactics the Nighthounds employed against rival gang members and law enforcement. He had seen the carnage and fear they inflicted, leaving an indelible mark on this city. The Nighthounds'' reputation for mercilessness was well-earned, and Jack knew better than most the lengths they would go to maintain their dominance. Seeing Joe face the Nighthounds and walk away unscathed was remarkable to the former smuggler. In Jack''s eyes, it was a testament to either Joe''s resourcefulness or sheer luck. Joe: You tell me. I dont know why. Jack: But actually no. I probably know too much already. Whatever it is, if it involves the Nighthounds, I dont need to know about it. Joe: Good. I wasn''t going to tell you anything anyways. Joe vividly recalled that threat Yin had made, warning him not to reveal anything about what he had witnessed that day. The detective knew the danger of crossing the Nighthounds and was determined to tread carefully. When speaking with Jack, Joe was only willing to confirm or deny what Jack already suspected, avoiding adding any detailed information about the incident itself. The memory of being caught by the Nighthounds lingered in his mind, a stark reminder of how close he came to dying. He wouldnt risk revealing more. Jack: Still, being able to walk away from the Nighthounds. You should be grateful instead of having this pissy attitude. Joe: What pissy attitude? This is how I normally am. Jack: Then why the whole bottle? Your little investigation with that druid thing not go well? Joe: That, and now I''m stuck on a new investigation. Something that was forced onto me. I cant work on my own shit until that is done. Jack: Ah, ok. An awkward silence hung between the two men. Seeing that the senior detective wasn''t going to say anything else, Jack grabbed a broom and began sweeping up the broken glass he had dropped when Joe first entered. The sound of the broom bristles against the floor and the clink of glass shards bumping into each other filled the bar. Joe stared down at his drink, lost in thought. The amber liquid swirled gently in his glass, reflecting the dim lights of the bar. His mind seemed miles away, preoccupied with the weight of the investigation into Rob, and now the Jixi investigation. Jack, glancing up occasionally, could sense the tension and turmoil brewing within the detective, yet chose to respect his silence for now. Eventually, it was Joe who was the first to break the silence. Joe: Say, you dont happen to know anything about a guy named Jixi? Jack: Oh, here it is. I knew you were here just to fish for information, he angrily growled at Joe. Joe: You could just lie and say you dont know anything. Heh, probably dont know anything anyway. Jack started to rub his temple in an attempt to relieve some of the stress from the attitude Joe had on full display. Jack: Fuck me. I don''t know why I''m doing this, he muttered under his breath. Who is this Jixi guy? Joe: Never mind. Dont worry about it. Jack: Just tell me. Joe: Im really not fishing for information from you this time. I just wanted a drink. Jack: Shut the fuck up and just tell me who youre looking for. You''re here now, so it''s better I tell you what I know right away, rather than you coming back to bother me later. Joe let out a deep sigh. Joe: Im sure youve heard about that necromancer teacher at the university, he was named Sorin. And, this guy had an assistant named Jixi. Im sure I can put two and two together. Jack: Huh? You''re involved in that whole university mess. Is that the new investigation that got pushed onto you? Joe: Yup. Jack: Hmm, ok, he said as he crossed his arms and went into deep thought. I cant say I know anything about this guy Joe: I know. When we helped clean your record all those years ago, you did a pretty good job going straight afterward. You stayed away from all that really shady or fucked up business. Jack: Thank you? I guess? But, you make it sound like this Jixi guy was in deep with that whole necromancy thing. Joe: He was. The whole investigation Im doing is with a large team looking for this guy. He apparently slipped away after Sorin was discovered doing necromancy experiments on students. Jack: Hmm, so he was smuggled out of the city. Joe: Thats what Im thinking. Jack: And, thats why you came to me. Joe: No, again, It was just for a drink. I know you didnt mess with cultists or necromancers, even when you were a smuggler. And, you definitely dont mess with those kinds of people now that you''re out of that world. Jack: But, I was in that world. So, I know a lot of the ins and outs of it. Joe: Are you trying to make me fish information out of you? Because its not going to work. Im not getting kicked out of here until Im done drinking. All the other investigation teams are having no luck finding any useful information. I already know that the only ones who could smuggle Jixi out of the city without leaving a trace are the Nighthounds. And if the Nighthounds are involved, this whole investigation is fucked. Joe suspected that the Nighthounds were somehow involved in the situation. Once that was confirmed, the entire investigation would likely be shut down. The Nighthounds'' involvement would force the police to close the Sleuth-Hawk operation to avoid inciting another major conflict. This would end the cooperation between the university and the police, meaning Joe would have to revert to standard procedures for obtaining information from the university. This looming problem was a major source of his frustration. Jack: Maybe not. How about you go talk to Cindy. Joe: Cindy? Why? She got out of smuggling along with you. Jack: She is an info broker now. Joe: Oh, like you. Jack: Not like me. I dont go out of my way to collect information. I just hear things through the grapevine. She purposely collects info and sells it on the side to people who dont want to go through the Nighthounds to get it. Joe: Why would I even bother if the Nighthounds are involved. Jack: Because you aren''t sure if they''re involved. Youre just guessing. Cindy still knows about the other groups that could smuggle people out of the city who are not Nighthounds. And, she could probably confirm for you if the Nighthounds are involved. Joe: Hmm, I guess I could at least confirm with her. Jack: If you do, make sure to send Mike without you. She is less likely to put up with your bullshit than me. Joe: Yeah, sure, he said while continuing to sip away at his drink. Joe continued to sip his drink for the next hour, lost in thought as the time slipped by. When he finally finished, he settled his tab with Jack, leaving a generous tip for not kicking him out like he half expected. He then made his way home, feeling the weight of the evening settle in. Intermission XII In an undisclosed facility underground. A large, muscular, bald man in bulky black armor was sitting at a desk, looking through papers. The man had an imposing figure, standing six feet nine (2.06 meters), and had horrible scars all over the left side of his face. His left eye was covered by an eye patch, and he had a constant scowl. Everyone in this facility was scared of this man. He was Decker Vorn, the leader of Project Sword. A faction and warband within the Endless War cult that produces and develops weapons of war, all meant to sell to other nations or other warbands. This faction worked to start a never-ending conflict as much as the rest of the cult, but was more motivated by profit. They didnt care who or why; they would arm anybody who would pay them with few exceptions, which still aligned with the core beliefs of the cult. As the more people who are armed, the more likely there is to be violent conflict. One of the few exceptions was that Project Sword wouldnt arm other cults, and not because this group didnt want to. But, because other cults would get in their way to start endless conflict. Not all cults benefited from a country in war, and some would try to undermine the Endless War cult''s efforts. So one of the few universal agreements among all the warbands of the cult was not to work with other Nameless God cults. The papers that Decker was looking through, were requests from one of those other cults. It was one of the cults hiding in the Agado swamplands. They were pleading with him to help arm them, so that they could fight off the encroachment of the Red Church into their land. Fucking damn it. We could make so much money from this if this request wasn''t from another cult. Im sure I could get an exception for this at the next warband meeting, as long as I dont arm Rattle Bone or Blood Callers, but who fucking knows when the next meeting is gonna be. I guess I could secretly arm them. Even if the other warbands find out about this and attack me over it, Its not the worst way to go out. Decker thought to himself, honestly considering breaking the agreement and working with other cults. The Endless War cult had very few rules. Just about anything in this organization was permitted as long as it led to more conflict. The only two rules were not working with other cults and attacking each other, which the latter was not always followed. The Endless War cult was prone to infighting, especially during times of peace. Warbands constantly come and go within the cult due to this fighting. Its only during major conflicts, like the civil war in Gix, that the cult is unified, but Decker''s greed was testing that unity at this moment. As he looked over the documents, the door opened into his office, and he saw a soldier wearing armor with a similar design to Deckers. The person who entered was not someone Decker knew, but his uniform denoted someone of lower standing than Decker. The officer saluted before resting his right hand over his chest. Cram: O-Officer Cram f-from sector C here to d-deliver a message from officer Hik, he stuttered. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Hes nervous, why? Decker thought to himself while noticing Crams slight stutters in his world. Decker: At ease, soldier. Be candid with me; why are you so nervous? Cram made an audible gulping sound. Cram: Honestly sir, Im here to deliver bad news and dont want to get shot over this. Id rather die on the battlefield than die delivering a message. Decker: Ah, well dont worry, soldier. I dont shoot the messenger. So what do you have to report? Cram: The caravan transporting armament to Ugos warband was intercepted and destroyed. None of the weapons or supplies made it to the destination. Decker didn''t express any particular visible emotion, but there was a slight twitch in his eye from hearing the news. Decker: I see... and who was it that attacked the caravan? Cram: It was Anya Volks forces. Decker: Anya? I didnt think the caravan went through the territories she controls. Cram: It didnt. She launched an assault outside her territory with a small force that overwhelmed our men. Decker: When did she become so bold? Is she getting so desperate for supplies that she is starting to do raids outside her territory? Anya Volk was a knight turned general of the single largest remaining army within the territory of Gix. She was the number one enemy of the Endless War cult right now, as she was viewed as the one most likely to end the conflict. So Decker and other warbands work together to isolate and attack her forces, slowly grinding away at their supplies and manpower. All so that they could reduce Anyas power and keep the conflict going. Cram: Actually, no. Our informants have reported that she has a new supplier. Decker: There is a new arms dealer in the game, or is it the Union States? Cram: We dont know. It could be the Union States, possibly one of the other territories aligning with her, maybe some other arms dealers in the Endless War cult secretly supplying her, or a third party were unaware of. The only thing we do know is that this new arms dealer goes by the code name The Mechanic. Who we suspect may have been secretly supplying her for some time, along with some other groups that are opposed to us. Decker: Well, fuck us. Also, it was Hik that was the one who arranged that caravan that got attacked, correct? Cram: Yes sir. Decker: Why is he not the one reporting this to me? Cram: He told me hes currently busy and sent me instead. Decker: Ah, OK. Just one second. Decker picked up the corded phone on his desk and punched in a few numbers. Cram could hear the audible dial tone before it clicked and connected to someone. Decker held the phone up to the side of his head and began talking. Decker: Warren, would you be so kind as to put a bullet into the back of Hiks head? Yes, the one in sector C. Oh, and be sure to have his remains used for weapon testing, so hell at least be useful for something. Thank you. He then put the phone back on the receiver and looked back at the lower-ranking officer. Decker: You dont shoot the messenger, you shoot the one that sent the message. Chapter 73 - Carefully Asking Advice Within the Mystic Emporium, John was indulging Lunar in an intense petting session. The white, fluffy dog lay sprawled on the floor, belly exposed, reveling in John''s attention. Each time John found the perfect spot on Lunar''s tummy, the dog would kick one leg joyfully in the air and yip with delight. Lunar''s contented wiggles and the rhythmic thumping of his tail against the floor filled the room, creating a serene and playful atmosphere amidst the emporium''s usual mystique. John: Whos a good boy? Whos a good boy? Lunar: Waah! the white dog happily squealed. John continued to do this for another minute before he suddenly heard a ring at the front door of his store. Instantly, John straightened his posture and stood up, brushing away the dog hair that had accumulated on his clothes from Lunar. The fluffy dog''s tail stopped wagging and looked disappointed as he realized that the petting session had come to an end. He then turned toward the front door, quickly composing himself, as if he hadn''t just been doting on Lunar moments ago. With a swift adjustment to his clothing, he greeted the person who entered. John: Greetings! How may I help you today? he happily said, his energy still high from petting the Lunar. The person who had entered the store was Cid, easily recognizable in his usual attire. He wore the standard green robe of his school uniform, its deep emerald hue contrasting sharply with the black accents of his clothing, creating an interesting design with the pattern of a mushroom on it. Cid: Mr Li. So good to see you! John: Well, if it isn''t Cid, come sit, he said while gesturing toward the chair and table at the back of the store. Cid nodded and obediently took a seat at the table. As he settled in, John reached under the table, his hand moving to a spot just beyond sight. He was doing that weird thing where he seemed to pull items out of nowhere without the use of aether. It was something that high-level mages could doreaching into a mini-pocket space to grab something stored in it. But, that used an item enchanted with space magic along with a reasonable amount of aether. John seemed to be doing that with neither. Cid wondered how he was doing it, and why John always did it just out of sight. From this unseen space, he produced a tray of fresh baked goods that looked like they came from a high-end bakery specializing in deserts, their inviting sweet aroma filling the air. He almost feels like a grandmother, constantly offering me treats. Cid thought to himself. John: So how have your studies been going? he asked as he pulled out some cups and a pot of coffee. Cid: Things have been going pretty well for me. I aced all my exams, he said with a smile. The book of grand design made it especially easy. Cid silently thought to himself. One advantage of being able to calculate the future was knowing precisely which questions would appear on tests. All Cid needed to do was memorize those questions along with their answers, ensuring a perfect grade every time. John: That''s wonderful to hear! And Scarlett has been helping you out? he said as he poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Cid. Cid: Yup. Ms Scarlett has been great. Shes really been taking good care of me. Help me sort out finances and a few other things for me, he said, followed by a quick sip of the coffee John gave him. John: I knew shed help you out. She is a kind person. Cid: Yeah. But, is aUm, how do you put it? Shes kind of a broken person. John: Ah, she told you about her past, he said, with a vague understanding of Scarlett''s tragic past with her disciples. Cid: Yeah, she seemed to have been through a lot. I was wondering if you know how I could help her? Well, being excised from the academic community and betrayed by people she thought her friends would leave physiological scars. John silently thought to himself. Johns grasp of Scarletts past was minimal and skewed. Understanding it as an unfortunate accident where she was forced to take all the blame for it. That Scarlett had been framed, forced into becoming a wanted criminal, and had been on the run for years as a fugitive was something not known by John. To John, Scarlett was just an eccentric researcher who continued her work despite what her other colleagues said. He did not know her as the Scarlet Witchformer archmage, black mage, arsonist, mass murderer, and the current most wanted terrorist on the continent. John: Well, people who go through what she did would take time to heal. You cant force these things. You can only stay by her side. Give her emotional support and reassure her. That''s the best thing you can do. How, ordinary? I thought he would suggest some profound method of helping, like telling me the location of some ancient artifact that could help her. Also, that comment seems to suggest that maybe Scarlett was right. Mr. LI sent me to help her work through her trauma. Thats why hes telling me to stay by her side. Cid thought to himself, creating a self-fulfilling theory that he was sent by John to assist Scarlett. Cid: Is there really nothing you can suggest? John: Give her time. When she is comfortable enough to confide more in you, listen. Be supportive, he said, drawing on personal experience from his own traumatic past. Cid: OK. If youre sure. John: I am. It is the best thing you can do for now. These are old wounds Ive been helping her with as a friend. Its not something you can fix overnight. Though John misunderstood Scarlett''s past, believing it to be a mere unfortunate accident rather than a ritualistic sacrifice and murder attempt by her disciples, he did recognize the profound psychological scars it left on her. He saw how guarded and mistrustful she had become, something he could relate to from his own experience with betrayal. John sensed Scarlett confided in him only because they shared a similar history of being wronged by those they once trusted. However, with time and reflection, John came to realize that living in such isolation was unhealthy and that closing oneself off from others could do more harm than good. He hoped that one day Scarlett would come to see this as well and begin to heal from her past. It wasnt long ago that she asked me to help find an assistant for her. Im fortunate to have found someone like Cid for the job. Seeing her confide in Cid suggests that, after so much time, she might finally be starting to move on. John thought silently to himself while feeling satisfied that Scarlett was starting to be a little more open. Cid''s introduction to Scarlett had been coincidental, yet they seemed perfectly suited to support each other in their own ways. John might have even called it fate, if not for Onyxs explanation that fate was now broken and gone. Cid: Um, there was something else I wanted to ask you about, if thats OK? John: Of course. What is it you wanted to ask? Cid: Its, um, about the future. Im having a hard time predicting it. As soon as Cid asked that question, he felt an overwhelming amount of pressure come down upon himself. The Shroom Pact student felt like his body was suddenly loaded up with an additional thirty pounds of weight. In a wordless and sourceless way, an unseen threat was being made. That he be crushed under this pressure instantly if he said one more word. Crap! Did I say the wrong thing? I should have chosen my words more wisely. But I didnt know how to ask this question indirectly. I know Scarlett and the book warned me about this. Violating Johns act can result in something terrible, but I didnt realize it would be like this! Cid inwardly panicking. John was just an average person without any magic abilities, this was what many believed he was only pretending to portray. Something that interrupted that act wouldn''t be tolerated. This is what Scarlett had warned Cid about. So asking a question about trying to predict the future with otherworldly powers to an average person like John, whom Cid believed was only pretending to be an average person, wouldn''t make sense. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. John crossed his arms and looked at Cid in deep thought, while the unseen force seemed to continue to press down on Cid. All Cid wanted to know was to understand why the Book of Grand Design could only sometimes predict the future of certain individuals. And, to know what John was warning him about in the future. Is he angry with me? Will he crush me? No, this pressure is coming from somewhere else, but where? Cid wondered. Cid looked around frantically while John was deep in thought, and then he saw the white dog, Lunar. The canine was looking at Cid intensely. Its the dog! Cid realized Cid could just feel it in those cold blue eyes of the white-furred malamute. It was the source of this sudden pressure. The dog''s gaze bore into him with an intensity that sent chills down his spine. Every hair on Cid''s arms stood on end as he realized that this creature wasnt just an ordinary dog. There was a strange supernatural and unseen aura emanating from the malamute, filling the room with a suffocating force. The air seemed to grow heavier and colder with each passing second, and Cid''s heart pounded inside his chest. It was as though the malamute''s eyes held some ancient, secret, unfathomable power, and Cid felt a gnawing presence that he could neither comprehend nor escape from. John: So, youre unsure where youre headed in life, then. I know how that feels, he said, failing to notice Cids discomfort. The pressure was suddenly released around Cid. He felt a heavy weight lifted from him. The Shroom Pact student watched as the white dog immediately lost interest in him and curled up in a nearby bed. John had misunderstood Cid''s question, leading him to believe that Cid was merely anxious about the future. Cid: Oh, youdo? he absentmindedly said, still trying to recover from the strange force that was pressing down on him. John: Yup. I used to have teachers who tried to push me to figure out my life career from an early age. I didnt know what I wanted to do with my life then, or even all the way when I graduated from college. And, even now, I still dont even entirely know myself sometimes. Cid: So, you dont know what you want to do with your life, even now? John: Well, I told you already that I want to help others. I just wonder someday if Im going about it in the right way. Cid: Isee. The conversation had shifted from one about constructing the future with the "Book Of Grand Design" to a more benign topic: future career paths. It was a change that made more sense to the average person act that Cid believed John was doing. John: But, enough about me. What about you? What is it that is specifically troubling you? Cid: Um, right. I just think I know where Im going, only to discover it didnt work out the way I expected. It''s frustrating, and I dont understand why it''s like that. he asked with an alternative meaning behind his question. Cid framed his question to subtly ask: "Why doesn''t the Book of Grand Design always work?" He hoped that John would provide an answer through a nuanced, indirect euphemism rather than a direct response. Cid intended to extract insights from Johns guarded words, perhaps revealing underlying complexities or limitations of the Book without forcing John into a straightforward explanation. John: Hmm, this sounds kinda like our conversation when I first met you. Cid: No, this is different. I have reeled back my own expectations of myself. I just dont like the uncertainty. John: Ah, I see. Uncertainty can be a scary thing. Cid: Yeah, and that uncertainty nearly ruined my plans. John: Then it wasn''t a very good plan, I am afraid. Cid: Huh? John: Please dont take this hard, but uncertainty exists in everything. If you create a plan that doesn''t account for the unexpected, then its not a great plan. Cid: I do account for the unexpected, but even so. It is still not going the way I expected. Oh boy. Sounds like he is struggling with something in school, and becoming overly focused on the future again. Similar to that conversation I had when I first met him. John thought to himself. John: If the unexpected becomes too great a factor, then youre just gambling at that point. And sometimes that''s fine, life can be a gamble at times. Cid: But I dont want to gamble. I want to know everything will work out. John: Im afraid none of us have a choice in that. There are no guarantees in this world. When you close your eyes to go to sleep, there is no absolute certainty you will wake up again. There is always that sliver of possibility that something can go awry. Cid: Is there really nothing I can do about it? John: The best you can do is focus on the thing you can control and prepare for tomorrow. Focus on the things you can do and control, rather than worry about the things you cant. You shouldnt focus on a future you cant anticipate. Just keep doing what you can today, and maybe youll figure out what tomorrow brings. Dont worry about things outside your control. Cid: Dont worry about things outside your control, he mumbled, repeating what John just said. Cid looked at John as he became lost in deep thought. Is he telling me to give up on trying to predict the future with the Book of Grand Design? It seems like that''s what hes hinting at. It also sounds like the book of grand design cant predict the future as well as I thought. But, why? Ms Scarlett says that every word John says can have a much more profound meaning than what appears on the surface. Something about that last phrase of Dont worry about things outside your control, feels like it has some sort of meaning Im missing. Cid silently question. John: Yup. And give it time. Im sure youll find a direction for you to head towards eventually. That comment. Does that mean my great purpose will be revealed soon? No, he said eventually. That could mean it might be a while yet. Cid thought to himself. From the moment Cid received the Book of Grand Design, and it revealed a truth to him, he became aware of a connection to a higher calling. Although the specifics of this calling remained unknown to him, the book warned that a grand purpose awaited him in the future. Cid understood that one day he would be summoned to fulfill this mysterious purpose. As Cid reflected on the conversation, he began to suspect that it might be John himself who would summon him to fulfill this unknown purpose. The more he pondered, the clearer it became of John''s influence in what he learned from the book. It would make sense. Mr Li gave me the book. Probably even created the Book of Grand Design himself. Maybe, this higher purpose was crafted by him. Just like I could influence chaos theory and craft outcomes, maybe John sees things on an even higher level than the Book of Grand Design, and hes influencing things in ways even I cant perceive. Hmm, maybe Im overthinking this. I think I should just follow Mr Li''s advice literally, and focus on the things I know and can control. But, let''s see if I can get some sort of direction of what I should be doing for now. Cid thought to himself. Cid: In that case, would focusing on school and helping Ms Scarlett with her work be the right direction? he asked, trying to get some sort of clarification from John about what he should be doing. John: Hmm, you would know best. But, that doesn''t sound like a bad idea for now. Focusing on your education is always useful. And who knows, maybe helping Scarlett will help you figure out your direction in life. It sounds like she has really taken you under her wing from what shes told me about you. So completing my education and helping Ms Scarlett with her work sounds like it might be the correct course of action then. Cid thought to himself, interpreting John''s words as such. Cid: I see. Yeah, Ms Scarlett has been taking really good care of me. John: Good, good. Cid: Um, there was one more thing I want to ask you. John: Of course. What is it you wanted to ask? Now feeling like he resolved what his immediate course of action would be, Cid shifted the conversation toward the vague warning he had received from John some time ago. He wanted to delve deeper into the unsettling hints John had dropped, hoping to piece together the cryptic message and make sense of John''s foreboding words. At the very least, Cid wanted a rough timeline of when this danger would appear before him. Cid: You, um, said there was some sort of trouble at the university and told me to keep my head down. Is that trouble still brewing? Has it passed? John: Oh, umm. he mumbled as he crossed his arms. John hadn''t been following the news closely in recent weeks. As a result, he remained unaware of the Sorin incident and its aftermath. The affairs of the university rarely came up in conversations with the people he interacted with. Most people living in the east end didnt directly involve themselves with the university that much. Consequently, John failed to make any connection between the warning from Onyx and the troubling events surrounding Sorin. This again. Damn it. I should have asked Onyx what specifically he was warning me about with the university. It''s been a while since I got that warning. That trouble should have passed by now. But, Onyx has such a weird perception of time that whatever thing he was warning me about might be years away. Ill have to ask the next time I see him, whenever that is. John said to himself internally. John: I havent heard anything yet. So just keep an eye out for now. Sounds like the danger hasn''t passed yet. Ill need to keep making sure to avoid trouble for now. Im not sure what question I could ask to coax more information out of him. I guess Ill just have to leave it and just trust in Johns advice. Cid thought to himself. Despite being troubled by John''s warning, Cid believed that John and Scarlett would protect him. He had already placed his complete trust in John and increasingly brought into Scarletts theory of John''s seemingly overwhelming unseen power. Cid believed that the guidance he received from John would ultimately keep him safe. The two of them continued with idle conversation for the next hour or two. Cid, making sure that the conversation never deviated from anything that didnt sound benign. Chapter 74 - Discount Yaren The effectiveness of enhancement magic is determined by two factors. Ya ability to cast that magic, and ya own physical ability ya enhancing. Enhancement magic acts as a multiplier, capable of doubling or tripling ya strength. However, if ya not inherently strong, its benefits are limited. If ya too weak, ya need to channel more aether for any significant increase in strength. The general rule is: the more aether ya invest in enhancement magic, the greater the boost to ya physical abilities. Keep in mind, ya should never use enhancement magic beyond ya limit. That limit is determined by physical health and aether control. When ya use enhancement magic on ya self, some of that aether bleeds out into ya muscle. A little bit of aether in your muscle is no big deal, but if ya got too much it can rip em apart. Thats why aether control is important. It limits how much of that aether bleeds out into ya muscle. And, ya health determines how much aether can stay in ya muscle before it starts tearing it apart. Also, depending what element ya use with your enhancement magic, it can add additional effects. The most useful elements in combat for enhancement magic are Fire, Wind, Vito. Wind makes people light and able to move faster, while fire gives ya the best explosive increase in strength. Vito removes fatigue and can slowly heal the user, allowing ya to keep on fighting. Of course ya can use any element with enhancing magic, but those three are the best in lots of combat situations. The only exception to that rule is never use Necros with enhancement magic. Necros will actually cause the enhancement magic to behave opposite to what it is supposed to do and make ya weaker. Its actually more effective to use Necros enhancement on an enemy than ya self. Combat Magic 101 by Warren Delk Alan was standing outside in the center of a training area. He was in the middle of practicing fusion magic, trying to combine wind and vito to create lightning. The surrounding air crackled with energy as he carefully channeled his aether. He was determined to create this new pseudo-element and control it. Sweat formed on his brow from effort, as he waved his hands around with precision, leaving a trail of wispy energy as he did so. He then brought his hands close together, focusing intently. In the space between his palms, that wispy bluish energy that resembled smoke began to gather and compress into a single point. It floated there, slowly accumulating more aether, until arcs of blue electricity started to leap from it into the air. Sweat dripped from Alan''s face as he concentrated. The wispy energy gradually began to solidify, on the verge of transforming into a ball of lightning. Suddenly, some of the arcs of electricity coming off it turned a yellowish-orange. The ball of energy, no longer stable, started to move erratically between his hands, slowly expanding in size and threatening to break free. Alan: Damn it, Alan! Dont lose control! he screamed at himself. Unfortunately, his self-demands didnt help, and the ball of wispy energy continued to expand. Suddenly, a pillar of stone burst out of the ground up between Alan''s feet, striking the unstable ball of energy and sending it soaring high above his head. Alan looked up in surprise at the ball of energy suspended in the air. Before he could react, the ground beneath him shifted, and he was abruptly pulled down, disappearing into the earth. The ball of wispy electrical energy floated in place for a brief moment, drawing in the air with a sharp hiss. There was a split second of eerie silence before it violently exploded, sending shockwaves rippling through the air. Arcs of blue and yellowish electricity shot out along with bursts of that wispy energy, damaging the nearby surroundings. The chaotic discharge left scorch marks and debris in its wake near and where Alan was previously standing. Once the area seemed safe, the earth began to shift again. Slowly but steadily, Alan was pushed upward until he was protruding from the ground from his waist. Alan: Plugh. Got dirt in my mouth, he said as he spat up some dirt. He took a moment to catch his breath, glancing around at the scorched and damaged surroundings. The aftermath of the explosion was evident, with debris scattered and electrical scorch marks etched into the ground. Alan''s expression was a mix of relief and frustration as he examined the destruction caused by his unstable spell. Footsteps echoed from behind Alan, prompting him to turn around. He saw Mitra approaching, her arms crossed and her expression stoic and serious. The intensity in her eyes reflected her concern and disapproval as she surveyed the effects of Alans failed spell. Alan knew he was in for a stern lecture, recognizing the familiar look on Mitra''s face that always preceded her constructive, if sometimes harsh, feedback. Mitra: Another failure. And a particularly dangerous one that I had to save you from. Alan: Yeah, he said while lowering his head and avoiding Mitras gaze. This had been Alans third attempt today to use lightning magic. He had failed the previous two times, which had not been particularly hazardous. However, this third attempt was different. The closer Alan came to successfully fusing Vito and Wind elements, the more dangerous the process became. Lightning magic, being particularly volatile, posed a significant danger if it slipped from his controland thats precisely what had just occurred. The consequences of his lack of control were painfully evident. If not for Mitra sending the unstable energy flying up into the air and pulling Alan underground, he could have been badly hurt. Mitra: I think we should call an end to these training sessions for now. Alan: Huh? Mitra: I had hoped that the extreme conditions I put you through would cause your talent to blossom. For many mages, true abilities often awaken under such pressure. But, this seems about as far as you can go. Alan: N-No! I can still do this. I ca he began, but halted abruptly as Mithra raised her hand, signaling him to be silent. Mitra: This is not me giving up on you. Were just going to go through the normal procedures of learning fusion magic now. You were able to successfully create lightning at this stage, and is the fastest I have ever seen someone learn this. But unfortunately, you have no control. Which makes this less than useless. As you could easily injure yourself with this kind of magic, or worse. Alan lowered his head, feeling disappointed in himself. Mitra: So well meet up bi-weekly now instead of every day. Unfortunately, I have a lot on my plate with the Sleuth-Hawks and cant give you as much time as I would like. I will provide you with a training manual on how to use combat Vito. I want you to practice using only Vito alone for now. Once you start getting the hang of using that element, well attempt lightning magic again. And, like I said previously, you are forbidden from using lightning magic when Im not around. Alan: OK Um, what about Jafar? Both Alan and Mithra turned their attention to the grassy area of the training ground, where they saw Jafar sprawled face down in the grass. His body was bruised and battered, his clothes torn and dirt-streaked. He was pretending to be unconscious, an attempt to escape Mithra''s rigorous and relentless training regimen. Mitra: I may have pelted him a little too hard with some aether bolts. Ill take him to the medical building by myself in a little bit. Alan: Um, I meant about the training session? Mitra: Oh, hell be meeting me bi-weekly along with you. I got some combat training manuals for him as well. Youll both be doing self-learning, but feel free to help each other out. Im sure he would benefit from your help. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Mithra walked over to Alan, stopping right beside him, and extended her hand toward him. Alan hesitated for a moment, studying her outstretched hand before clasping it firmly in his own. Mithra swiftly yanked him out of the ground in one fluid motion while kicking up a bunch of dust. She effortlessly hoisted him back onto his feet with one hand. The ease with which she did this spoke volumes about her own physical strength and enhancement magic. Now no longer half buried, he looked at Mitra appreciatively. Alan: Thank you. Mitra nodded, before reaching into her jacket and handing Alan an envelope. Mitra: Would you take this to Rell for me? It is something we want your team to look into. Alan: Is this related to Sorin? Mitra: Yes. Its something that Dakka wanted us to look into. Alan: Who? he said, unfamiliar with who Dakka was. Mitra: The Archmage of the Grayscale College. Remember? Did that lightning fry your memory? Alan: Oh, right. Alan wasn''t particularly familiar with all the heads of the colleges, aside from Lazarus Vaal of the Arcane Eye and Marlyn Koa of Lionheart. So he didnt consider that this request was coming from an archmage. Hearing that it was the headmaster of Grayscale who was asking his team to do something made him feel weird. He was strangely uneasy about it. Mitra: Unfortunately, all the other teams are too busy. So, I have to get your team on it. We need you guys to check out something in the Arcanium Archives. The details are in that envelope. Rell should be somewhere in the enforcer building. Make sure it gets to him. Alan nodded as he accepted the paper from Mithra. Without hesitation, he turned and walked off to carry out her orders. His footsteps faded quickly as he disappeared from view, leaving Mitra and Jafar alone in the training area. Once Alan was out of sight, Mithra directed her attention toward Jafar. She walked across the training ground to where he lay sprawled on the grass. She approached him with an unchanged expression. Once Mithra reached Jafar, she positioned herself beside him. Without a word, she lifted her foot high and brought it down forcefully onto his back. The impact was deliberate and painful, sending a clear message that she wasnt fooled by his feigned unconsciousness. Jafar: Oof, he grunted as Mitra stomped on Jafar. Mitra: I know youre faking it. Get up, she said with a sinister smile. Jafar: Ugh. Mithra lifted her foot from Jafar''s back, watching as he hesitantly began to push himself up from the ground. With a groan, he gradually rose to his feet, standing up straight. His eyes were wide with a mix of fear and alertness. Jafars clothing was dirty and torn, stained with sweat and grime from the relentless training he received. His body was marked by numerous bruises, scattered about in dark patches on his skin. The poor former Ember Gears student looked as though he had been beaten with a meat tenderizer. Which, in a weird way, he was. For the past hour, the "green-haired demon," as she was notoriously known, had been relentlessly launching earth-infused aether bolts at Jafar. These bolts, essentially big chunks of rock hurtling through the air, required Jafar to conjure a ward to block them. Each aether bolt hit with a force that, if unblocked, would strike Jafar directly, leaving a bruise. He managed to deflect only half of them; the other half smashed through his shield like a stone through a window. When that happened, the rocks pummeled Jafar, battering him like a piece of meat. However, even as his shield broke, Mithra gave him no respite. He had to hastily create another ward, knowing that Mithra would launch the next aether bolt almost immediately, leaving him in a brutal cycle of defense and punishment. This grueling exercise pushed Jafar to his limits, testing his resilience and forcing him to improve his magical defenses under extreme pressure. Jafar: P-Please. I cant take it anymore. Mitra: You should have heard what I said to Alan. This is your last daily training session with me. Its Bi-weekly now. So make sure you practice this warding magic for our next session, she said while ignoring his pleas. Jafar: Y-you mean were done for the day? Mitra: Yup. Jafar looked like he was about to cry. Mithra had been particularly harsh today, driving the two students through an exceptionally grueling session. As this was to be the last of the daily training, she seemed determined to push them beyond their limits. Jafar: In that case, Ill take my leave, he said while bowing politely and preparing to leave. Mitra: Wait, she called out to Jafar before he could leave. Jafar stopped and started to sweat slightly, worried that Mitra was going to start flinging more rocks at him again. Mitra: Before you go. I want to ask you some questions about what happened that night with Sorin. Throughout her time training Alan and Jafar, Mithra came to a realization: neither of them would have stood a chance against Sorin. Despite being only an A-class mage, Sorin was highly competent and formidable, presenting a challenge even for Mithra herself. The tale of their victory over himrelying on distracting him long enough to cause a chandelier to fall on top of his headseemed like more dumb luck than anything else. Yet, Mithra''s instincts suggested there was more to the story. Something deeper had played a rolean unexplored aspect of their encounter with Sorin. Mitra: Other than you three, along with Sorin and his undead, was anyone else there that night? Jafar''s nervous sweating seemed to intensify at the question, and Mitra took notice. Her curiosity was piqued by his evident discomfort. Jafar: N-No. It was just me, my friends, and Sorin. Mitra: No one else? Like, was Jixi there? Jafar shook his head. Jafar: There wasn''t anybody else. At least, none that I saw. Mitra: So there could have been someone else, and you just didnt notice, or they were hidden. Jafar was getting even more nervous. Each question Mitra asked posed a risk of him inadvertently slipping up and divulging information about Cid. The weight of the situation bore down on him, as he realized the consequences of revealing too much. Cid''s threat of revealing information about him echoed relentlessly in his mind. Jafar: U-Um, N-no. There wasn''t anyone else there. Um, Sorin had his undead search the whole area, a-and didnt find anything. Mitra: Hmm, why are you hiding something from me? Jafar''s eyes widened in shock, his pulse quickening as a cold wave of fear washed over him. The possibility that Mitra had already pieced together his connection to Cid filled him with dread. Jafar: N-no! I''m not hiding anything! Mitra: Is this an example of repressed memory from trauma, or something else? she verbally expressed her thoughts aloud. Jafar: Huh? Mitra: Look, I dont know why youre hiding something about Sorin, but you can trust me. Ive taken you and Alan under my wing and will do everything to protect you two. Id hope that youd let me take you both as proper disciples eventually. Jafar: You want us as your disciples? Mitra: Yup, you two still have a lot of untapped potential, and I want to help you two. Im sure I could turn you two from C-class to A-class mages in a few years. I might even be able to turn one of you into an S-class mage with a bit of luck. And as a mage with disciples, it will be my responsibility to take care of your well-being. But, I wont be taking you two on until this thing with Jixi is done, she said, followed by a deep sigh. I wont force you to tell me anything. But, I hope one day youll learn to trust me enough to tell me on your own, she said as she walked away, leaving Jafar by himself. Jafar: Its not about trust he mumbled to himself. ?????????????????? Mitra walked casually along one of the corridors in the training building. She had just left the area where she had been training Alan and Jafar. The hallway was lined with portraits of past mages and lit by ambient light from nearby windows. As she advanced down the corridor, she spotted another professor in the red robes of the Lionheart, leaning casually against the wall. His posture was relaxed, but his expression was anything but friendly. He had a smarmy smile, and his eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief. He seemed to be waiting for her. Lionheart Professor: Well, well. If it isn''t old Mitra. Mitra: Jeff Jeff was a senior combat instructor with tenure at the Lionheart College here at the university. Mitra and him were not on friendly terms. He was jealous of her for reaching the rank of S-class mage and being close to Lazarus. Jeff: Still wasting your time with those students youve taken under you? The one that lucked into the Arcane Eye. Mitra: Hmm, I wouldnt call nurturing the future generation a waste of time. Jeff: It is, if youre cultivating weeds. As a tenured professor, Jeff carried an air of entitlement that made him believe he could harass Mitra without consequence. His tenure, while meant to protect academic freedom, seemed to encourage his arrogance. Jeff''s condescending attitude toward her was a thinly veiled attempt to mask his own inadequacies. Mitra: To call any student simply a weed, I guess I expected too much from a tenured professor. Especially one that has such a hard time seeing talent, she said while acting like she was disappointed in Jeffs comment. Jeff: Pft, as if a discount Yaren knows anything, he said, annoyed. Mitra, who normally hides her feelings well, gritted her teeth and clenched her fist. There were very few insults you could throw at her to get a reaction, but discount Yaren was one of them. It was well-known among the faculty that Mitra had been struggling for a long time to master mycomancy, a notoriously complex and demanding type of magic. Despite her considerable skills as an S-class mage, this rare arcane discipline remained beyond her grasp, To add to her frustration, some colleagues would purposely compare her to Archmage Yaren Zuzanna, headmistress of the Shroom Pact College and the sole mage on campus proficient in mycomancy. These comparisons were not casual observations; they were intentional jabs meant to wound her pride, with many professors knowing how much she despised being compared with the Archmage This comparison became a weapon wielded by those who sought to erode Mitra''s confidence and insult her. It led to the creation of the derogatory nickname "discount Yaren," implying she was merely a lesser version of Archmage Yaren. Not wanting to cause a scene, Mitra walked right past Jeff without uttering another word. Her usual stoic expression had a flicker of annoyance and anger, a rare slip in her usual unreadable demeanor. She refused to give him the satisfaction of any more of a reaction than shed already given and quickly left. Jeff smiled as she walked away. Pleased with himself that he managed to upset Mitra. Chapter 75 - Checking Off The List Within the Graheel police headquarters, Joe sat at his cluttered desk. Around him in the background, a variety of activities unfolded: fellow officers milled about, engaged in animated discussions, others worked on paperwork, and groups of people were constantly entering and leaving the office. The headquarters was abuzz with a mix of urgency and routine, with each officer focusing on their individual tasks. Across from Joe, a man of unremarkable appearance sat in front of him. He had a head of unkempt brown hair, a ruddy complexion, and a pair of faded blue overalls that seemed worn from hard labor. Everything about himfrom his sturdy build to his calloused handssuggested a life of living in the countryside. The man was known as Gary Freeman. A farmer living just outside Graheel and one of the suspects in the Sorin case that Joes unit was asked to look into. Joe had been talking to Gary for a little under an hour already. Joe: And, you didnt notice anything strange with Sorin''s behavior? Gary: Not at all. Didnt talk much. Figured he was one of them university folk that dont like to make conversation. Dealt a ton with those kinds of people in the past. Joe: From the university? Gary: Yup. Got lots of them fancy university wizards coming to me and my brother to buy out produce all the time. My family grows the best blue ginger root on this side of Golgatta, he said with a hint of pride in his voice. Joe: And to clarify, the people that buy your blue ginger are all from the university? Gary: The mages that come to me and my brother are all from the university. We have a lot of regular folk that buy blue ginger to use as a normal spice. Joe: OK, and Sorin never said or hinted at what he was using the blue ginger for? Gary: Nope. I just assumed he was using it for an alchemy experiment, like the rest of them. This guy is probably not involved. Everything hes told me so far checks out, and the blue ginger that Sorin bought from him is a very common ingredient that both mages and non-mages use. Plus, he willingly came here when I called him to ask if he would come in for questioning. You wouldnt risk coming here if you were a willing accessory to murder. He just seems like a simple man working on a farm. That, or he''s an overwhelmingly good liar. Joe thought to himself. Joe: I see. I think that will be everything, Mr Freeman," he said, concluding the conversation. Freeman rose from his chair and turned to address Joe one final time before heading out. Gary: I hope this helps you. What happened with those students was just awful. My heart goes out to the victim''s family, and I hope they find some peace after this. Joe: Dont worry. Everyone is on the case. Gary nodded to Joe before leaving the office. Joe glanced down at the file spread open on his desk, its pages filled with notes and records from the ongoing Jixi investigation. His eyes settled on Gary''s name, listed among the four suspects his unit was tasked to look into. The detective was pretty confident that Gary had no part in Sorins undead experiment. He reached for his pen and crossed out Garys name to match the other three crossed-out names on the list. With that, it marked the end of the last suspect Joes unit tasks to look into. He had thoroughly checked the backgrounds of all four suspects and concluded that three out of four had no discernible connection with Sorin at all, clearing them of any suspicion. The only exception was Larry. They had discovered a cache of illegal goods in Larry''s basement six days ago. Among the contraband, they found several items identical to those in Sorin''s labitems the university had been unable to account for or trace back to where they could have come from. Knowing that, Joe guessed that Larry was one of the people supplying Sorin with materials for his experiments. And, Larry likely knew what Sorin was doing based on the items he was selling him. Making him a willing accessory to murder. Not that it matters. Joe could nail him for the contraband even if he wasn''t an accessory. But, the obvious connection to Sorin made some of the higher-ups excited. They decided to allocate an additional unit to operate in tandem with Joes team, tasked with investigating and capturing Larry for the assistance he had allegedly provided to Sorin. There was only one problem, Larry was missing. And, it wasn''t the kind of missing person situation where he fled. It was like he just disappeared. Joe had talked to all kinds of people connected to Larry, friends and family, and not a single one knew where he went, with most of them not even knowing he was missing. Joe had also checked the banks, and Larry hadn''t moved any money around. This puzzled Joe; if Larry intended to flee, it seemed logical that he would have tried to take his money with him. But, the accounts remained unchanged, with no evidence of Larry withdrawing any money in preparation for a hasty departure. He would have at least tried to take some of his money with him. So, where did he go? That turned into a giant slug theory Alan suggested, that couldnt beno. That wouldnt make sense. We wouldve gotten reports of giant slug creatures in the city by now. But, then where in the world did he go? Are the Nighthounds involved in smuggling him out? They''re good, but I didnt think they were that good. There is absolutely no trace of Larry leaving the city. Could he have been killed? There was no blood or indications of a scuffle when we were at his home; it was just that slime. And who would even want to kill him? Jixi is probably not in the city anymore and wouldnt come back just to kill Larry. Unless there is something about their relationship I''m missing. Joe thought to himself while he leaned back in his chair. Joe: It could also be a third party. Someone that Larry pissed off, and they took him out. Damn it. So many questions, and no clear answers, he mumbled to himself. As Joe sat there lost in thought, his gaze fixed on the scattered papers before him. A little while after Gary left, Mike entered the office. The senior detective navigated through the organized chaos of desks and filing cabinets until he reached Joes workstation, pausing for a moment before addressing him. Mike: So, got any useful information? Joe: Nah. Gary doesn''t seem like hes involved with Jixi at all. Seemed like a pretty stand-up guy andPft!! he half laughed and gasped as he looked up at Mikes face. Mike''s face was comically swollen, resembling a squirrel that had crammed its cheeks full of acorns. Joe hadn''t noticed his partner''s odd appearance until he looked up from his paper toward Mike. Mike: Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, asshole. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Joe: What happened to your face? he said while trying to hold back his laughter. Mike: You did, you asshole! I got my teeth knocked out because of you, and I had to go get some fake teeth put in! I just came from doing that an hour ago and my face is all swollen because of it. Joe took a deep breath and re-composed himself. Joe: OK. When you put it like that, Im sorry for laughing. Mike grunted at Joes apology, clearly dissatisfied. He was still very mad at Joe for getting them both in that extremely dangerous situation with the Nighthounds. His annoyance was also further compounded by the fact he had gotten beaten slightly more than Joe for some reason, resulting in his teeth getting knocked out. The whole incident hadnt even been his idea, yet he found himself suffering the brunt of the consequences. The unfairness gnawed at Mike, amplifying his resentment. Mike: Right You said you talked to Gary, right? He was the last person on the list of people we were supposed to look into. Does that mean were done? Joe: With what the university asked, yes. Mike: I swear Joe, if you try and jump back into the Rob case now, Im transferring out of this unit. Im not doing this anymore. Joe: Calm down. When I said I was putting the Rob case on hold, I meant it. And, we wont be taking any more big risks like what happened to us on Eld Street anymore either. We need to finish the Jixi case first. All my attention is on that right now. Mike: Good. So, what are we doing now? Joe: The upper brass wants us to find Larry now that we know he was clearly connected to Sorins undead incident. They put another unit on this to help look for him. Mike: Did the other unit find anything useful? Joe: No, they just started. So for now, me and the others are just going to go through records and talk to some people that knew Larry. While were doing that, I want you to look into if Larry or Jixi have any connection to the Nighthounds. When Mike heard that Joe was possibly about to send him to investigate the Nighthounds, he lost it. The mere suggestion of such a task filled him with a surge of frustration and anger. To be forced to engage with the Nighthounds after being beaten by them badly felt like a cruel burden. Mike: JOE! You just said we weren''t going to take any big risks! he yelled, angered that they were about to involve themselves with such a dangerous group again. Joe: Mike, I know youre angry at me, and you''re justified to be angry with me. But, calm down. Im not asking you to talk with the Nighthounds or anything. I want you to go talk to Cindy. Mike: Cindy? Are you talking about the one we helped clear her record along with Jack? Joe: The same one. Mike: Why? Joe: She apparently is an info broker now. Might have some useful information on Jixi or Larry. At least, thats what Jack suggested. Mike: Hold on. You talked to Jack? And he didnt try to beat you or throw you out of his bar? Or did he, and you just annoyed the crap out of him till he told you this? he said while rubbing his eyes. Joe: You know, I can talk to people amicably. Mike: Yeah, how well did that work for us on Eld Street? Joe let out a long, defeated sigh. Joe: Ah, I set myself up for that one, he said, unable to rebuke Mikes point. Anyway, I want you to talk to Cindy to see if you can get any info on Larry or Jixi, and I want you to confirm if the Nighthounds are involved at all in this investigation. I dont need to know the details of their involvement, only that they are involved. Mike: If the Nighthounds are involved, this whole case is going to go bust. You know that, right? The Graheel police force had a deliberate policy of steering clear of the Nighthounds and their territories, at least on the surface. Officially, they made no overt moves against the criminal organization, maintaining a facade of indifference to avoid attracting unnecessary attention or retaliation. Behind the scenes, however, there existed a highly specialized unit within the force dedicated to dealing with the Nighthounds. Few knew of its existence, and fewer still knew what they were exactly doing. Even Mike and Joe didnt know much about them. Both officers didnt even know who was working on that unit. And it had to be like this. When dealing with the Nighthounds a delicate touch was needed. So, secrecy was of the utmost importance to avoid another gang war between the police and the Nighthounds like in the Bloody Days. As a result, when signs of Nighthound involvement show up in an investigation, they close it down and transfer the investigation over to the special unit to look into. Both Joe and Mike were pretty sure that is what would happen to the Jixi investigation if the Nighthounds were involved. Joe: I know. Murdock will probably disband the Sleuth-Hawk when that happens too. Since, the university wont likely accept transferring this investigation over to the Nighthound unit. If Murdock has to choose between working with the university or investigating the Nighthounds, hell give up on working with the university. Mike: That meansthe paperwork he said with dread, unable to finish what he was going to say. Joes team was banking on skipping the normal university information request thanks to their involvement with the Sleuth-Hawk. However, if the Sleuth-Hawk got disbanded, they would have to go back to filling out all the university forms like they were doing before. Joe let out a sigh. Joe: Let''s worry about that when we get there. Find out whatever information you can from Cindy. The rest of us will keep going through Larrys records until we find anything useful, or we get new orders from the higher-ups. Mike: Fine. Ill go talk to Cindy now. I guess. Joe: You''re going to go talk to her with you looking like that? he said while pointing at Mikes face. Mike: The dentist said the swelling in my face will go down in another hour or two, he said, before walking away from Joe to go meet Cindy. Alone at his desk, Joe began to get to work. He pulled another file he had on Larry and started to go through the contents. He scribbled notes in the margins of the documents, underlining key points and highlighting discrepancies. An hour passed as he lost himself in his work. Eventually, the three enforcers assigned to Joes team filed into the office, their presence bringing a sudden shift in the atmosphere. Joe looked up from his desk as they entered, his gaze shifting to an envelope carried in Rells hand. ?????????????????? Joe stood outside the entrance to the Arcanium Archive, examining the sheer scale of the structure before him. The building loomed imposingly, and the architectural design was ancient. A structure that predated the city. It was said to house over thousands of years worth of knowledge on the arcane, a vast repository of mystical lore and secrets accumulated through the ages. Countless mages have come and gone from this place since its creation. This wasn''t the first time Joe had been here. He had come here many times to take out books that related to some of the investigations he''d done in the past. Recently, he came here for books about curses when he was looking into Wrens claims about deadly curses. The place had long since ceased to leave much of an impression on Joe. He had visited it too many times now. The officer looked to his left and noticed Ren''s reaction, or rather, the lack thereof. Ren, much like Joe, appeared unfazed, displaying little to no expression in response to their surroundings. It likely indicated that the enforcer had also been to the Archive many times before. In stark contrast, the other three members of Joes group were visibly captivated. Alan, Jafar, and Dans eyes widened, and they exchanged glances of awe and fascination. The grand architecture, intricate decor, and sheer significance of the place seemed to have left them enthralled. The place had a long-storied history, and people who came here for the first time could feel it. Alan: So this is what the Arcanium Archive looks like up close. Jafar: Yeah, its the first time I''ve seen it up close as well. Dan: You two live here, and you never bother to visit? Jafar: It is not like a normal library. The fees to get access to it are too expensive for regular people. The amount of money it costs for one-year access can pay for most of your tuition at the university. Alan: Yeah, even I might have visited if it wasn''t so expensive. Rell: Well, as Arcane Eye students, you have full access. You shouldnt have to worry about those fees anymore. Alan: We do? Rell: You don''t know? The university has worked out a deal with the archive to allow free access for professors and certain students. Everyone in the Arcane Eye has free access. Alan grumbled a little bit. He hated that Rell understood the privileges of Arcane Eye students better than himself. Hearing this conversation going on between the enforcers of the unit, Dan looked at Joe with a bit of worry. Dan: Joe, does that mean you and I have to pay to get inside? Joe: No. Government officials and police also get free access. Anyway, let''s go see what Sorin was researching, he said as he headed inside the Arcanium Archive. Intermission XIII Somewhere within the Warring States. A temporary war camp was set up by a warband of the Endless War cult. Clad in formidable obsidian armor, the warriors of this warband tirelessly patrolled their surroundings, vigilant against any threat. Some honed their skills with precision, engaging in target practice, while others meticulously maintained their weaponry, steeling themselves for the inevitable clash that awaited. Within one of the large tents, a conversation was being had between the leader of this warband and another person. The inside of this tent had all the amenities one needed to be relatively comfortable. Chairs, a sturdy table, a bed, and a sizable map depicting the intricate local terrain of the region adorned the interior walls. Sitting behind a table sat a towering figure in black armor. A massive sword, the size of a large child, leaned against the table. His face was obscured by the black helm he wore, and only his mouth and lower jaw could be seen. The man had a frown and didnt seem to be happy. The man was known as Ugo. He was a Warlord and leader of the warband that was operating in this area. Across from Ugo, a portly older man and two guardsmen donning armor befitting a local knighthood. The coloration of the knight''s attire was a combination of green and white. The aging man''s attempts to conceal his receding hairline with a blond wig were obvious to everyone present, despite his best efforts. He was adorned in opulent green attire decorated with elaborate gold embroidery, a display of wealth that was impressive. It was an obvious sign that this man likely hailed from nobility. However, it was not his attire that drew the most attention, but rather the fiery hue of his face. The man was mad and screaming at the larger armored man in front of him, much to his own guards'' nervousness. The screaming man was Patrick Xaxa. A wealthy noble and minor lord in the small region they were currently in. Patrick had a contract with Ugo. It was to defend and expand his territory during the ongoing conflict in exchange for funds. To which the nobleman felt that Ugo had reneged on the agreement. Patrick: Why have you not pushed into Roxsis territory as you promised! he screamed at Ugo. Ugo: You can scream all you want at me. I cant do the impossible. Patrick: Then why promise that you could capture that area? What am I even paying you for! Ugo: That promise was under the assumption we got resupplied last week. Which hasn''t happened. I need more ammunition. Patrick: It is not my problem that you dont have enough ammunition. Ugo: Tough shit. It is your problem. If I dont have the supplies I need, I cant push to claim more territory for the Xaxa family. Patrick: You brute! How dare you! I dont care what you have to do, but youre invading that territory. With another conflict going on on the other side of that Roxsis territory, this is a prime opportunity to claim more land for my family. Ugo groaned in annoyance. Suddenly, another man walked into the large tent. Dressed in a uniform of dark armor akin to Ugo''s, though noticeably less detailed and more simple-looking. He stood at an imposing six feet nine (2.05 meters) and had an air of reserved strength and a degree of professionalism about him. His features were entirely concealed beneath the shadow of a black metal helmet, leaving no hint of expression or identity to be discerned. He looked like a smaller version of Ugo. Though not known to Patrick, everyone in the warband knew who this was. This was Butcher, whom everyone just called Butch. He was Ugos second-in-command Patrick: How dare you interrupt us! Were in the middle of something! he screamed at Butchs sudden arrival. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Disregarding the presence of the nobleman, Butch walked towards Ugo, his intentions veiled in secrecy as he leaned in to murmur something confidential into the towering man''s ear. Whatever Butch said to Ugo suddenly made the monstrous man smile. Once he was done, Butch stepped away from Ugo. Ugo: Haha. I must inform you, Patrick, that our contract is now terminated. Patrick: WHAT!?! What''s the meaning of this? Ugo: The Roxsis family offered a better deal. Suddenly, and without warning, Ugo grabbed his sword beside his table. As his fingers enclosed around the handle, a surge of energy coursed through the blade, igniting it with a pulsating aura of dim crimson light. From its edge, violent arcs of red electricity leaped and crackled. In one quick motion, he swung his blade toward Patrick and his entourage, leaving a momentary trail of crimson energy in its wake, before cutting all three in half and eviscerating them at the waist. Patrick and his guards didnt have time to respond or understand what just happened. Blood splattered everywhere as the three men briefly screamed as their torsos fell to the ground, their insides spilling out onto the dirt beneath them. Patrick: B-but we paid y-you, were his last words before he rapidly bled out in seconds. Butch watched this all happen; it was difficult to tell what he was thinking under the helm he wore. Butch: Was that a good idea? The deal from the Roxsis family wasn''t better than what we were getting from the Xaxa. They''re offering a lot less money. Ugo: I dont care. Ill take any excuses to cut that bastard down. Ive been wanting to do that for a long time now. Butch: Were going to have a lot less finances to work with now. Ugo: Well just raid and pillage Xaxa territory before we leave for the Roxsis territory to make up for that. Butcher let out a deep sigh. Butch: Fine. I''ll inform everyone else what well be doing, he said as he prepared to leave. Ugo: Wait. There are two things you need to do. First, I need you to send a missive to Decker and figure out where the fuck are my supplies. Butch: Already did that. Ugo: Heh, good. Thats why youre my right-hand man. Im also sending you out east to the Union States soon. Butch: Why? Ugo: There are some agreements we need to work out with a few parties over there. Our grand Warlord Zete has asked me to take charge of those discussions. Butch: Why would Zete ask you to lead any discussion? Youre terrible at them, he said as he looked down at the corpse of Patrick, which reinforced his point. Ugo: No one wanted to do it. Everyone has their own thing going on right now. Zete chose a random Warlord to work out a deal with some weirdos over there in the Union States. Thats why I''m in charge of these stupid discussions now. And, you''re right. I am terrible at these kinds of things. So, thats why I''m sending you. Butch: OK. Can I have the details? Ugo: Here, he said as he handed Butch a missive with instructions from Zete on the discussion Ugo was in charge of. Butch looked over the contents of the paper given to him, lingering for a moment before he shook his head in disbelief at what was written in the document. A deep sigh escaped from beneath his helm. Butch: How the fuck does this stupid cult function if all the leaders are meatheads like you and Zete? I cant believe Zete would give you such an important mission, and then you just hand it off to me. Ugo: That''s because it doesn''t matter if youre successful or not. We can function with or without reaching a deal with those guys over in the Union State. Butch: Our position would be significantly better if we could reach a deal with these people. Ugo: True. Thats why you have my full support and authority. You can make whatever compromise you need to reach a deal, and I''ll back you up. Butch: Even if part of the deal I reach requires offering your head on a pike to them, he said in a threatening manner. A sinister grin spread across Ugo''s lower jaw, reflecting a chilling blend of malice and sick joy as he regarded Butch''s threat. Ugo: Im sure you could convince Zete to stick my head on a pike for you, if it would help reach a deal. But, would you really deny the pleasure of doing that yourself? Hahahaha, he laughed maniacally. Butch didnt say anything. He simply turned away and silently left Ugos tent, all while the mad Warlord laughed. (Authors note: Havent seen Ugo in a really long time. He appeared in Alans flashback all the way back in chapter 7. I wonder how many people even remember?) Chapter 76 - Arcanium Archives Many believe that the Arcanium Archives arose after the founding of the Graheel University, but it is in fact the opposite. The archives predate the university and is the primary reason for why the seven founders of the university chose the location they did to build their school. In the simplest terms, they wanted quick and convenient access to the Arcanium Archives. The Arcanium Archives from antiquity to today remains the greatest source of knowledge on arcane matters in the western continent. It is no wonder as to why the founders wanted access to such a resource. However, it has only been in the last two hundred years that people from the university have been able to regularly access these archives. As the archives from the old days operated under a principle they called Knowledge for Knowledge. The principle dictated that to gain access to the archives, you needed to submit some sort of written work or research documentation related to arcane study. And, it needed to be works that the archive did not already have stored in their libraries. This practice greatly increased the size of the archive and its wealth of knowledge, but made it extremely difficult to gain access. As the amount of information you were allowed access to was limited by how much you could contribute yourself to the scholarly work of arcane study, which was extremely difficult if you couldnt access the archives in the first place. The more modern incarnation of the archive now simply charges a nominal fee for access. Writing of Archmage Setta on The Founding of Graheel and its University Joe walked into the Arcanium Archive with most of his team in tow. They had stepped into an expansive reception area designed to welcome visitors. The space was lined with rows of reception desks, all conspicuously unoccupied. To the side, a cluster of seats offered a place for people to sit and wait. Just a bit further in, an imposing, grand door caught their attention. The door had countless glowing runes carved into it and looked to be magically locked. Despite serving primarily as a reception area, the room''s walls were adorned with bookshelves overflowing with volumes on a myriad of subjects. The number of books on display in this area was more than any normal library would have, and yet, everyone in the group understood that there was somehow even more further inside. Seeing that there was no one at the reception desk at the moment, Joe made his way over to one of the vacant desks. With a sense of familiarity, he reached out and pressed a small button embedded in the desk, designed to summon a receptionist. This was something he had done before when he came to take out certain books. About a minute had passed as the group waited. Suddenly, the runes etched into the grand door glowed more intensely, radiating a bluish energy. With a faint creak, the door slowly opened just enough to reveal a narrow gap big enough for a person to walk through. Emerging from the opening was a young woman with neatly tied brown hair in a bun. She wore long, simple blue robes, complemented by a red scarf bearing the emblem of the Arcanium Archive intricately woven into the fabric. She paused for a brief moment, her eyes scanning the room. Upon spotting Joe and his group, she began to approach them. As she drew nearer, the faint scent of parchment and ink seemed to linger in the air around her, likely as a result of handling paper prior to coming here. Victoria: Hello, and welcome to the Arcanium Archives. My name is Victoria. How may I help you today? Joe didnt say anything. He reached for a pocket on the inside of his jacket and produced a neatly folded piece of paper with the emblem of Graheel University on it. Without a word, he handed the document to the young woman. The librarian named Victoria received the paper, unfolded it, and quickly began to read its contents. Her eyes darted over the text, and within moments, her expression transformed into a mix of confusion and contemplation. Victoria: Um, so you''re here to go over all the documents that Sorin had checked out in the last year? Joe: Thats what the letter says. Victoria: This might be a problem. Joe: Whats the problem? I thought the university sent a request ahead of time for you to gather all the documents for us. Joe and his team had been tasked with reviewing the documents Sorin had checked out from the Arcanium Archive. Archmage Dakka wanted to be thorough in this investigation and go over every possible thing related to Sorin, aiming to uncover any potential leads concerning Jixi or evidence of cult affiliation. Victoria: We have. All the books Sorin took out in the last year have been gathered and prepared, as per Archmage Dakka Vinko request. But, we were expecting the archmage to come himself. Joe: Well, the letter explains that he sent us in his place. Victoria: And thats the problem. Do any of you have level four access? Hearing that, Joe turned his gaze towards Rell, silently hoping for confirmation of his level four access. Catching Joes silent cue, Rell responded promptly. Rell: I only have level two access. Joe: Shit. I only have level three. Victoria: That is what I suspected. Therefore, I cant let you look at those books. Joe: Comon, were working for the police and university on an important manhunt for a murder. We need to see those documents, he said as flashed his police badge. The librarian seemed unmoved by Joe. Victoria: As a police officer, you should know that books marked as danger level four require a similar access level. These books are extremely dangerous, and its against the law for us to allow anyone to read them without proper approval. Joe groaned. He quickly discerned that the woman he was speaking to was the by-the-book kinda person. Someone who is strictly adherent to rules and protocol, leaving no room for flexibility, regardless of how much he might attempt to convince her otherwise. Victoria: If whatever you''re working on is so important, it should be easy for you to gain temporary level four access through the police or university. Joe: I know, he said in an annoyed tone. But, that means I have to head all the way back to the police headquarters to get the stupid papers that give me access to level four, and then I have to drive back here. So, is there really nothing you can do? I would rather not waste time. Victoria: Im afraid not. Joe: How about you take out the books that are level four and only give us the level three and lower stuff today?I have level three access. We can look through those books now, and I can come back later for the level four stuff. Victoria: It was a fair number of books Sorin took out. It might take us two days to sort out the level four danger book from what weve gathered. Joe: Seriously? Why does it take you two days to do that! he half yelled in frustration. Victoria: Because its level four. Danger level four books have to be handled by someone who has the appropriate access. There are only so many people here at the archive that are approved to even touch those books to allow for sorting, and they''re all very busy. Joe glared at the librarian, his frustration mounting. She blocked every effort to reach a compromise, appearing determined to turn them away. With her refusal to budge, he realized he would have to return the following day since he wouldnt be able to get the papers before the Arcanium Archive closed today, unless he could reason with this librarian. In one last ditch effort, Joe decided to invoke an Archmages name. Joe: You''re seriously going to deny a request from Archmage Dakka of Graheel University? The librarian remained silent, taking a brief pause as she carefully considered her next words before finally speaking. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Victoria: Ill talk to someone higher up. But, I make no promises, she said before leaving. The female librarian entered through the large, enchanted door she came from and left Joes team by themselves in the reception hall. A few seconds went by, and a silence hung in the air. The quiet made Alan feel uncomfortable, so he decided to make idle chatter. Alan: So, how dangerous are level four books anyway? Are they cursed or something? And what even is a level four book? Everyone turned to Rell, expecting an answer. Rell met their gaze and provided one. Rell: Sometimes a level four book can be cursed. Thats why they have to be managed by people approved to handle them. But, the real danger is in the contents of the books. Level four danger books contain forbidden knowledge and spells. Dan: R-Really? What kind of spells and information are we talking about? Joe: All kinds of shit. Anything to do with cults, outsiders, and necromancy is the stuff they label as level four. Pretty much anything that has detailed instructions on how to perform forbidden magic ends up as level four. Alan: Necromancy So this is where Sorin learned how to turn his victim into undead. Joe: Possibly. That''s why were here. To confirm if Sorin learned soul-binding magic himself through the Archive. Or, to find out if he had any help from an organization like Dakka suspects. Jafar: Huh? The Archmage of the Grayscale College thinks Sorin had help from an organization? Both the recently elevated Arcane Eye students were confused. This was the first time Alan and Jafar heard about Sorin working with a third party that was directly involved. So far, the investigation has only revealed people who were willing accomplices, not an organized group working together with Sorin. Joe: Yeah? Didnt you know? Wait, did you not tell them? he said while turning towards Rell. Rell: No. I forgot to, he said, with a deadpan expression. Alan glared at Rell, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. His mistrust of Rell had been growing steadily ever since they met him. Rell had always carried himself with an air of professionalism. Alan found it increasingly hard to reconcile the idea that the Grayscale enforcer conveniently forgot to mention this. Joe: That was your job. Rell: I was going to explain everything properly once we had a group meeting. But, you threw us at this investigation without having a proper discussion as a group. I still havent even met the third member of your group yet. Joe let out a long, weary sigh. He felt the weight of blame being unfairly put on his shoulders from Rell''s comments. Despite feeling wrongly accused, Joe decided against pushing back. He knew that arguing now would only escalate tensions and compromise the group''s cohesion. Instead, Joe shifted his focus to the two other enforcers in his group. With a measured tone, he began explaining the current circumstances, outlining the situation clearly and calmly. Joe: Well, since were here. Yeah, Dakka thinks that Sorin might have had help from a cult when conducting his experiments. Specifically, the archmage mentions Rattle Bone in particular in the report I got. Alan: Sorin was a cultist! he yelped in surprise. Jafar: That would make sense. Rattle Bone is the cult of necromancy. Joe: I wouldn''t be too sure about that. While I respect the archmage, I think he might be wrong on this one. Rell: I also concur with Joe. From what I know from working with Sorin, he doesn''t have enough of the traits of a Rattle Bone cultist. Jafar: What kind of traits are those? Dan: Oh, Rattle Bone cultists are crazy. Like, super crazy, from what I understand. Even more so than other cults. Jafar: Aren''t all cultists crazy? And, what do you mean by super crazy? Joe: Its hard to explain if youve never met one. But, Dans right. Actually, he might be understating it. But anyway, its not the traits Im looking at. Its the idea that Rattle Bone was working with Sorin in any capacity. Rattle Bone cultists dont usually work with each other at all. I think the only form of collaboration they have with each other is that they wont immediately kill each other on sight, and thats it. I highly doubt they would extend even that sliver of cooperation to a non-member of the cult. Jafar: He might not be working with them, but what makes you rule out that Sorin himself is a Rattle Bone cultist? Joe: Well, if he is one, we would have found that out real quick. There was another team that had already searched Sorin''s home, and they didnt report finding anything particularly strange. If hes Rattle Bone, there would have been a whole lot of bones in his house. Those freaks are always collecting bones. Rell: Hmm, it sounds like youve dealt with Rattle Bone cultists before. Joe: Only twice. And every time Just Something is seriously wrong with those folks. I cant explain it. Its not mental illness that drives those people, it is something so much more. After Joe spoke, an awkward silence settled over everyone. No one felt inclined to break the silence immediately, each person seemingly unsure how to respond or perhaps reluctant to address the uncomfortable truth that Joe had just articulated. Alan spoke first, choosing to steer the conversation away from the previous topic and in on an odd detail that Rell mentioned. Alan: You said you worked with Sorin, he said, directed at Rell. Rell stared at Alan and looked to be about to respond, when the massive doors leading deeper into the archive began to creak open. The sound drew the attention of the group as another older woman stepped into the reception area. Her gray hair was neatly tied into a bun, and she wore a pair of glasses that glinted in the light. Unlike the previous librarian they had encountered, who was dressed in blue robes, this woman wore gray robes. She possessed an air of seniority around herself. The women saw Joes group talking amongst themselves and approached them. Sandra: Hello. Im one of the head librarians here at the Archives. My name is Sandra. I understand you were sent by archmage Dakka to look through the books that Sorin and Jixi had taken out in the last year, but you dont have the proper access level to do so. Joe: That is correct. Is it possible that you can make an exception for us? Just for today. Sandra: Unfortunately, no. The laws are very strict and clear about this. You''re not allowed to look at those books unless you have a high enough access level. Joe started to grumble under his breath. It seemed as if this woman was about to refuse his request, just as the previous one had done. However, it seemed to Joe that her refusal would carry more weight. Her title as head librarian suggested she was high on the hierarchy at the Archives. The detective could sense that her denial would be more absolute, leaving little room for argument or negotiation. Sandra: However, I myself have maximum access level. The law only states that you need one person of the appropriate level or higher to be present when looking at these books. Therefore, I can let you look at them as long as I remain in the room with you. If that is acceptable. Joe: Oh, he said as his grumpy demeanor quickly shifted. Yeah, that would be great. Thank you. And, I''m sorry about this. Victoria said you guys are busy, he said, trying to be more polite now. Sandra: Its no trouble. I actually intended to help the Archmage go through Sorins research with him. So, its not adding to my workload. Anyway, if you will all follow me, she said while gesturing for the group to follow her. The group of men trailed behind Sandra as they passed through the towering door, venturing deeper into the vast expanse of the Archives. The hallway they entered was grand, its width spanning generously, and its ceiling nearly twenty feet above their heads. Lanterns levitated overhead, casting a blue, flameless aether light that bathed the corridor in an ethereal glow. The walls were lined with more grand doors similar to the first they had encountered in the reception area, each one as imposing and intricate as the last. As they passed by one of the grand doors that were open, Alan stole a glance inside and then gawked in astonishment. The room was even more expansive than the reception area or the hallway they were currently in. The walls were lined with towering bookshelves, each crammed with all manner of documents relating to magic. A second level, accessible by an ornate staircase, held even more shelves brimming with books. On the ground floor, rows of tables were arranged for visitors to sit and read. Overhead, a giant skylight allowed natural light to stream in, casting the warm glow of the sun on the polished wooden floor. Alan then looked ahead down the hallway they were traversing and saw at least twenty more doors lining the path before it turned off. Each door likely led to a room just as big as the one he had just seen. This place is massive! Its even bigger than the university library, and that place was huge as well. Alan thought to himself. Sandra: Its because this place has thousands of years worth of research on the arcane. Alan: Huh? Alan noticed Sandra glancing over her shoulder at him before turning her attention back to the path ahead. Sandra: Sorry, I just saw it on your face. I see it all the time. People make that expression on their first time being in the Archives, and they cant believe how big it is. I always explain that the size is due to the Arcanium Archive''s age and history of constantly collecting knowledge on magic. Alan: Oh, really? Sandra: Yes, if you want, I can give you a tour of the Archives for any of you at a later time. Alan: That''d be great. I might take you up on that offer later. Alan wasn''t the kind of person who liked to sit down and read, but he was determined to one day become an Archmage. In pursuing that goal, he knew he would have to expand his understanding of magic greatly, and the Arcanium Archives was the place he knew where he could do that. He fully intended to use his access to the Archives to achieve that goal later. Eventually, after going through a few more long hallways, they made it to a private room with a table surrounded by chairs. A chandelier with arcane candlelight hung overhead. Sandra: Ok, you wait here. Ill go get the books. There were quite a few, and it will take me a while to get them all, so feel free to sit down and get comfy in the meantime, she said, before leaving the group. They settled into their chairs, arranging themselves in a semicircle to ensure they could all see each other. The room quieted as they waited for the head librarian. It went quiet between everyone. Minutes ticked by before Joe broke the silence between the group. Joe: So, whats this business about you working with Sorin? he said, directed at Rell. Everyone present stared at Rell. They waited for him to respond, to offer an explanation for his apparent connection to Sorin. The tension in the room seemed to grow, the air thick with Joes question. Rell, for the first time since meeting everyone, displayed some visible discomfort under the weight of their gazes. Chapter 77 - Rell’s Involvement Rell looked around at the group staring at him, their eyes filled with curiosity and suspicion. With a sigh, he responded to the question Joe asked. Rell: I used to work with Sorin on certain projects. Alan glared at Rell with an intensity that could have given the dead chills. His eyes burned with a fierce, unrelenting disdain. From the moment they first met, Alan had never really liked Rell; there was something about him that always felt off. Now, hearing that Rell had worked with Sorin, Alan felt utterly justified in his mistrust. His mind raced with memories of Sorin and all the heinous acts he had committed. The images and emotions from those times flooded back with intensity. As these memories consumed him, he began subconsciously attributing some of Sorin''s foul deeds to Rell. Joe: And you didnt think to tell us about this? Rell: You had no proper group meeting like we were supposed to. Otherwise, I would have mentioned this there." Joe: This is kinda important. You should have pushed to mention this to me without needing to have a meeting. Rell: I wouldnt say it was that important. Joe: Isn''t it? We are looking for people who are helping Sorin turn students into undead. You, who worked with Sorin, would be a possible suspect in this investigation. Rell: Ive already been cleared of all suspicion by Mitra herself. Joe: Youre still too close to Sorin. Rell: Hardly. We were just working associates. If that makes me too close to Sorin, then by that logic, these two are also too close. Since they were the ones who found out about Sorin and stopped him, he said while pointing at Alan and Jafar. Joe: Wait. You two are the students that I heard about stopping Sorin? he asked while turning toward Alan and Jafar. Jafar: Um, yeah? Didnt you know? Joe: NO! I didnt know this. Why am I learning about all these details now? Rell: This Is why I said we needed a proper meeting. To work out these details and share information. Joe grumbled under his breath, frustration evident in his expression. Though he wouldnt admit it out loud, he knew Rell was probably right. The senior detective wanted to speed through the investigation as fast as possible since it was time-sensitive, but it was now looking like it was the wrong decision. Instead of going into this investigation head-first, he should have had group discussions so that these things could have been communicated to him. Joe: Fine, I guess I will have this meeting now. So, what were you working on with Sorin? Rell: We were working on new types of sealing magic that could be used to restrain mages and temporarily seal their magic. The magic he was developing was supposed to be easier to cast and more aether efficient. The enforcers were interested in this and sent me and a few others to assist him in its development. Joe: How were you helping him? Rell: I was a guinea pig. Jafar: He was testing this sealing magic on you? Rell: Yes. He needed skilled mages to test this magic on. Thats why I was sent. If the sealing magic worked on me, it would work on most mages. Hearing that Rell had been a test subject took Alan by surprise. The revelation shattered his expectations. The image he had formed of Rell would shift again, as he thought about how Cris was also technically a test subject for Sorin. Joe: And did it work? Rell: Yes, but it wasn''t easy to cast. It was only more aether efficient. So that project was only half successful. Joe: I see. Did you know he was working on necromancy when you were with him? Rell: No, but it wouldnt have been strange if he had. Joe: Whys that? Dan: Oh, thats because Sorin was a Grayscale professor. People at that college study black magic. Joe turned his head toward Dan and gave a look of surprise that he knew that. Sensing Joes surprise, Dan responded. Dan: Um, this was explained at the first meeting with Mitra. The one you missed. Rell: Its as Dan says. The Grayscale College studies arcane law and creates countermeasures for black magic. But, to make those countermeasures, you have to know how that magic works. Sorin studying necromancy wouldnt be that strange. Joe: I see. So, you wouldnt pay any mind to him even if he was experimenting with necromancy, he mumbled to himself while looking down before turning back to Rell. How much time did you spend around him? Rell: It was two months ago that I stopped attending his experiments. But before that, twice a week for six months. Joe: Did you get a sense of what he was like from spending so much time around him? Rell: He wasn''t a good person. I knew this before the necromancy business. Sorin was very good at showing fake concern to others. It was only once he became obsessed with his work that his true colors came out. He sometimes pushed the limits of his experiment to the very edge and even put some of his test volunteers in danger. Every time that happened, he would apologize after the fact, but he would still do it again in another test. I quickly picked up on this, along with the other volunteers, he didn''t care about our well-being. Hearing about the fake empathy Sorin had displayed reminded Alan of the concern Sorin had expressed during their interview. The former Lionheart student felt that Rell''s remarks about Sorin were strikingly accurate. Joe: Hmm, so he had psychopathic tendencies early on. Thats to be expected with what he did. Are there any other personality traits or odd behaviors you can think of? Rell: He was cold and extremely precise and calculating, but good at hiding those traits. And, was just kinda an overall... how do I say it? Just a boring person. He had the personality of a dead fish once you pulled back the facade he put up. Dan: What do you mean he was boring? Rell: It was just that. He was awkward in conversation and wouldn''t even fake laugh at jokes. And, he seemed to have some sort of disdain against a lot of art. Which is a big point against the idea that Sorin was part of the Rattle Bone cult. Alan: Huh? Why does a lack of interest in art rule him out of being a Rattle Bone cultist? Rell: The Cult of the Failed Artist. That is also what people sometimes call the Rattle Bone cult. There are three constants in that group. Every member is extremely talented at necromancy, and they''re all obsessed with art in some form or another, and have an overwhelming desire to collect bones. The explanation surprised Alan. He knew that Rattle Bone was a cult made up of necromancers, due to the class he took on cults with Sere, but the details about their obsession with art hadn''t been covered much. It might have been explained more in next semester''s class, but this was the first time Alan was focusing on that aspect of the Rattle Bone cult. Alan: OK. I get the Necromancy thing, but why art? And, why specifically call it the The Cult of the Failed Artist. Joe: Cause that is what they all are. Theyre all artists who are not very good at making art. The lack of public success with their artwork causes them to spiral, which makes them go insane and join the cult. At least, thats the theory. Jafar: For real? So you make a bad painting, and that causes you to become a cultist. Rell: Not all bad artists become Rattle Bone cultists. But, all Rattle Bone cultists have an obsession with art. And, the art they made before joining the cult is usually not considered very good. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Joe: Oh, light. If every bad artist was a Rattle Bone cultist, there would be so many necromancers running around. Alan: Isn''t art subjective? Why are you two so confident that the art these people make is so bad? he said, directed at Rell and Joe. Joe: Im sure that a Rattle Bone cultist would echo your sentiment as they try to rip your bones out. But, you''re technically right. I guess it might be more fair to say that it is the lack of validation in their artwork that makes them go off the deep end. Anyway, were getting off track now, he said, before turning his full attention back onto Rell. So your connection to Sorin was that you were a test subject for a new type of binding magic. Correct? Rell: That is right. Joe: Did your relationship extend any further than that? Rell: Not really. I guess I did take a class of his back in the day before I graduated and became a full-time enforcer. Joe: Did you get to know Jixi at all? Rell: A little. He was a bit timid. It wouldnt surprise me if he was manipulated into helping Sorin. Joe: Something like blackmail? Rell: Possibly. But, I have no proof of that. He just felt like the kind of person who would be too scared to go along with what Sorin was doing. Unless he was coerced. However, like Sorin, he might have been good at hiding his true intention. Joe: Would you say Jixi had any personality traits that would suggest he was a Rattle Bone cultist? Rell: I dont know. Maybe? Joe: I see. Now you two, he said as he turned towards Alan and Jafar. What is this about being the students who stopped Sorin? Alan: Um, you see he said, before being interrupted by the door to the room opening. Everyone turned toward the door and watched as a giant metal box floated into the room. The head librarian who guided the group here followed behind the box, pushing along the way with magic. The box, crafted from heavy steel, appeared securely locked. Bars and padlocks were bolted onto it, suggesting it contained something valuable or dangerous. The room fell silent, filled with a sense of anticipation and curiosity. As it hovered closer, it eventually stopped just before the table. With a simple hand gesture from Sandra, the box dropped out of the air and landed with a heavy thud. Sandra: OK. That should be the first batch. Joe looked at the metal box. It was large and came up to his waist in height. He wasn''t feeling good about hearing Sandra say that this was the first batch. It indicated to him that this box was filled to the brim with books, and there was still more that was to be brought to them. Joe: Does this contain all the research Sorin looked at? Sandra: Oh Light, no. Sorin had taken out a little over two hundred documents in the last year. Joe: Thats a lot. How did he have the time to go through that much? Sandra: It''s a little bit of a problem with record-keeping on our end. We allow university assistants to look at books under the name of the professor they''re working under. So, this is actually a collection of documents that both Sorin and Jixi had looked at, and we dont have entirely clear records of who exactly was looking at which book. Were in the process of correcting this discrepancy going forward. Dan: So these are the books that both Sorin and Jixi have looked at. Joe: Thats still a lot, even between two people. Sandra: Not really. Weve had professors and their assistants from the university sometimes ask for over a thousand documents. Joe: Did Sorin have level four access? Sandra: Yes. He did. He wouldn''t be able to take these books out otherwise. Joe: Hmm. Would it be possible to look at your records to see what books they looked at? Sandra: Of course. A copy of the records is already stored here in the security box, she said while tapping the metal box she brought in. Now before I open this, I am required to go over the rules with you all. Firstly, as none of you have access to level four, I am required to remain in this room with you at all times. Secondly, any notes you take, I have to look over before you leave with them. That is to prevent you from just copying the instructions on how to perform some of these forbidden spells. Thirdly, you are not allowed to take any documents out of this room, for obvious reasons. And finally, you will be recorded the entire time while looking at these books, she said while pointing to a corner of the room. The group looked up toward the corner of the room and noticed a security camera pointed directly at them. It was strategically positioned to observe their every action with cold precision. Sandra: Weve had problems where people would damage these books by ripping pages out of them. So, we now record people who look at books with forbidden knowledge. Now then, are there any more questions? Joe: Yeah, but not about the books. Can I ask about you? At hearing that question, Sandra gave Joe a sly look. Sandra: Im far too old for you. Should find yourself a nice girl closer to your age to date. Joe: What? No! I''m not asking about that! he blurted out defensively. Both Alan and Dan couldn''t help but quietly snicker at Joe for his apparent embarrassment. Sandra''s comment had broken Joes cadence. Making him shift awkwardly around in his chair with visible discomfort. His discomfort only made Alan and Dan''s amusement grow. Sandra: It was a joke. I can answer whatever you need. Joe groaned slightly before getting back into the flow of things. Joe: Did you know Sorin? Sandra: Yes, but not personally. I was assigned to handle any high-level document request from him. Joe: You were personally assigned to help him? Sandra: Him, and a bunch of other professors from the Grayscale College. Joe: Why were you personally assigned to him and by whom? Sandra: I guess Im technically not assigned to anybody. Its more like I developed a reputation amongst professors at the Grayscale College. Each group of professors from the university has a favorite contact within the Archive they like to work with. I and a few other senior librarians are the ones that a lot of professors from the Grayscale College call up when they''re looking for certain documents or arranging an appointment here. Joe: Hmm. So you''re the go-to for people at the Grayscale College. Is that why you know Archmage Dakka? You sounded like you knew him? Sandra: Yes. I have worked quite closely with him. Especially back in the day when he was researching curses for his Advance Knowledge of the Dark Arts book. Upon hearing that, Joe got the urge to ask a bunch of follow-up questions about that. But, relented. He was taken aback by the head librarian''s deep involvement in the subject. Had he been aware of her involvement in writing that book, he would have attempted to interview her about ancient curses before seeking information from Cory. And, possibly gotten some actual useful information about it. Nevertheless, Joe''s current priority was the Jixi investigation. He mentally noted that he would speak with Sandra once the Jixi case was closed. Joe: So you sometimes work closely with a Grayscale professor on their research, but not specifically Sorin or Jixi? Sandra: No. I only arranged the private rooms with the books they requested. That was the extent of our relationship. Joe: But, these rules you set out. You mention looking over our notes. Is that just for us? Because if not, that means you should have seen Sorin''s research notes. Sandra: Its only for your group. Since none of you have access to level four. Otherwise, the first two rules I set wouldnt apply to you. I normally dont have to do this if the person requesting these books has the appropriate access level. So, to your question: I havent seen Sorin''s or Jixis research notes and didnt really know what he was working on. Joe: I see. Is there really nothing you can tell me about Sorin? Like, what were your interactions with him like? Sandra: Um, I already went through this with Dakkaasking me about my interaction with Sorin. And what I said to Dakka Ill say to you, Sorin didnt leave much of an impression on me at all. He was a serious person who didnt make any idle conversation with me. He just asked me to find certain books for him, like every other Grayscale professor who calls for me. That was it. He didnt talk to me about what he was working on at all. Joe let out another sigh. Joe: That tracks with what I''m hearing about him. Sandra: If you have no more questions, let me get this open. Sandra approached one side of the box and performed a delicate stroking motion with her two index fingers from top to bottom of the container. To the casual observer, it appeared as though she was simply moving her hand. Yet, everyone in this room was a mage and could feel the head librarian channeling aether as she executed the motion. The container was aether-locked, requiring the precise channeling of aether in a specific pattern to trigger an internal mechanism, allowing the release of the lock. Faint clicking noises emanated from the box, indicating an internal mechanism in motion. With one final motion of Sandra''s hand, the lid to the security box popped open. Joe got up and looked inside the box. To his surprise, it was only halfway filled with books. He had expected it to be much fuller. The mix of hardcovers and paperbacks lay in disarray, leaving ample space for more. Some of the book titles he could immediately see were: Rattle Scratching Version 678, Timmon Necrosis Prevention Techniques, Ethral Ethereal Manipulation, Consuming Ooze Cult Text Number 2, Festering Venom Cult Text Number 1, Vito Death Infusion, Stabilization Circles for Necromancy, and Corpse Puppetry. Joe: So, what are we looking at here? he said, directed at Sandra. Sandra: These are the books I have singled out to be the most relevant to Sorins crimes. It is a collection of different works related to necromancy. Also, since Dakka suspects cult involvement, there is also anything connected to cults in there as well. Joe nodded at what Sandra said and then turned back to his team. Joe: OK. Let me go over what were doing. Making sure there is clear communication between everyone, he said, directing the last comment at Rell. Were looking for three things: any clues related to Sorin and Jixi, any indication Sorin couldn''t have performed the kind of necromancy he did on his victims by himself, or any cult involvement, he said before turning back to Sandra. Since you have to be here, would you help us go through this information? Sandra: Of course. It shouldnt take too long for a group this large to go over all this information. Dan: Might be even faster if Mike was here. Rell: Yeah, speaking of that. Where is Mike today? Why isn''t he here? It would have been the perfect time for you to introduce us to him." Joe: I sent him off to gather information for the investigation. Ill be sure to properly introduce you to him next time. Anyway, let''s bunker down. This will still take a while, even with us all here. Chapter 78 - Smoke and Tea In the southern district of Graheel, nestled amidst the bustling streets, lies the Devatta marketplace. This local hub was an expansive open area with a multitude of booths and colorful tents, each teeming with enthusiastic peddlers showcasing an array of goods and produce sourced from farms outside the city. The air was filled with the lively chatter of vendors vying for the attention of passersby, creating a vibrant and bustling atmosphere that drew in visitors from far and wide. Several stalls in the marketplace were dedicated to cooking food, their savory aromas wafting through the air and mingling with the lively atmosphere of the bustling crowd. The sizzle of oil resonated throughout the area, infusing the air with the scent of freshly fried street food. The smell made Mike''s stomach rumble. Standing in front of one of the food stalls was the senior investigator, examining the offerings. His eyes were drawn to the fried chicken with honey garlic sauce. Mike: Excuse me, Ill take one of these, he called out to the vendor. The vendor at the food stall, who was a plain-looking mutant man with floppy rabbit ears, heard Mike and nodded. He picked up the chicken with some metal tongs and placed them in a bag before handing it to the officer. Mike thanked the vendor and paid him before walking off. As he walked by the stalls, Mike would pop some of the food he bought in his mouth and enjoy it. He meandered through the maze of stalls, his gaze shifting from bushels of ripe strawberries to crates overflowing with sumba melons. Mike paused occasionally to look at some of the produce. He made a mental note to revisit the stall to get some vegetables to take home after concluding his task at hand. The Devatta marketplace was a very old historic site for the city. It was initially established as a place where mages would convene to procure an assortment of goods for their arcane experiments. Today, it serves as a bustling hub where residents flock to peruse and purchase an array of fresh, locally sourced produce. The marketplace had seamlessly transitioned from its magical origins to a farmer''s market, reflecting the evolution of the current age. After savoring the last bite of the succulent, sweet, and salty chicken he had purchased, Mike disposed of the empty bag in a nearby garbage bin. Meanwhile, the investigator pressed on, weaving his way through the lively stalls and bustling booths until he reached the far end of the marketplace. Despite the vibrant offerings of the Devatta marketplace, the object of his search was not within its confines, but in a place beside it. The marketplace was separated by a road. On the other side of the road stood a densely packed building housing a myriad of local businesses, their fronts adorned with colorful signage and glass display windows. Mike crossed the street and began walking along the sidewalk that ran in front of the row of businesses. He passed by a butcher, a clothing store, and a hardware store. Eventually, he stopped in front of a shop called: Cindys Smoking Tea Leaves. It was a hookah lounge. The smell of burning tobacco wafted outside to where Mike stood. The store featured a display window at the front, though the glass was tinted blue, and the thick haze inside obscured any clear view of the interior. Mike could only make out the faint silhouettes of a handful of people inside. The muffled sounds of laughter and low conversation seeped through the entrance. Mike took a deep breath and entered inside. The moment he opened the door and stepped inside, the smell of tobacco enveloped him even more intensely. Inside the lounge, rows of plush booth seats were built into the walls, each curving around a central table. A few patrons sat at these tables, leisurely inhaling tobacco from pipes attached to the hookahs placed in the center of their tables while sipping some tea. The air was thick with fragrant smoke, and the soft hum of quiet conversation added to the lounge''s relaxed and inviting atmosphere. Across the room, opposite to the entrance, was what looked like a bar counter with a row of bar stools. The counter, made of dark, polished wood, gleamed under the soft, ambient lighting. Above the bar area, an abundance of hanging lamps of various shapes and sizes created a dazzling display. The lamps, with their intricate designs, cast a warm and inviting glow over the entire space, illuminating everything through the general haze in the air. Mike approached the bar counter and took a seat. The officer glanced around and noted that no one seemed to be paying him any attention. The patrons were either deeply engrossed in their conversations or intently focused on smoking their tobacco. His gaze couldn''t help but settle on a mutant sitting alone in one of the booths. The man appeared mostly human, but one of his arms was significantly larger than the other, covered in thick, green scales that glistened under the dim light. The mutant''s oversized arm rested on the table, its muscular form and reptilian-like skin starkly contrasting with his otherwise ordinary appearance. The man sat quietly, seemingly lost in thought, while he sucked in the smoke from a hookah at his table. Mike quickly turned away to avoid the mutant-man noticing him staring. The officer sat there for a few seconds, looking down at the table, before he heard a familiar voice he hadn''t heard in a long time. ???: Well, well. Long time, no see, Mike. Mike looked up and noticed a woman standing across from him. She had short, curly brown hair that complemented the vibrant red lipstick she wore, which accentuated her confident smile. She was dressed in a simple blue A-line dress that fell just below her knees. Her striking green eyes, bright and lively, seemed to reflect a sense of self-assurance as she looked at Mike. Overall, she radiated a youthful charm and poise, making her stand out in the lounge''s dimly lit ambiance. This woman was who Mike was looking for, Cindy Hubble. Mike: Nice to see you, Cindy. Cindy: "Likewise, I am always glad to meet an old friend. So, are you here to catch up? Or, is this business? she said in a soft voice. Mike: What kind of tobacco do you have for sale? Cindy gave Mike a sly smile, her red lips curling up mischievously. Cindy: Hmm. Not that kind of business. You''re not the kind of person who smokes. I know you''re here to ask a little young me something. Mike raised his eyebrow at Cindy, from referring to herself as young. Despite her youthful appearance, Mike recognized that she was not as young as she seemed. He recalled that Cindy was at least middle-aged. Being a mage as he was, he could feel the aether on her face when he focused his senses there. He assumed it was from a glamor. An illusion that gave her a more youthful appearance than she really possessed. However, Mike was tactful enough not to mention this. He knew it was never a good idea to talk about a woman''s age. Mike: What makes you say that? Cindy: I have my sources. Mike: Jack told you, didnt he? Cindy: Boo. Its no fun talking to a detective when they can piece everything together so easily. Mike: Then you know what I''m here for. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Cindy: No, I dont. Jack only mentioned that you would probably pay me a visit soon. Which, good idea not bringing Joe here. I would have told that bastard off. Jack gives in to him too easily. Mike nodded in agreement that it was probably a good idea that Joe sent him alone. Similar to Jack, Joe didnt have the greatest relationship with Cindy, and she would have been a lot more hostile if he were here. Mike: But, you know Im here for information? Cindy: If you''re buying. Mike: How much is this going to cost me? Cindy: I start at a thousand Glint. Then, depending on what you''re looking for, the price goes up. Mike: Thats a lot. Can you give it to me for free? For old time''s sake? Cindy: I gotta make a living, Mike. I cant just afford to give away perfectly good info. At the mention of that, Mike began to look around. The store he sat in had a fair number of patrons, making idle conversation while smoking or drinking tea. The store itself also appeared somewhat extravagant with its furniture and interior design. It seemed that Cindy''s business was thriving from Mike''s perspective. Mike: Doesn''t seem like you''re hurting for money that badly. Cindy: You never do something for free if you''re good at it. Mike: Then that means you can afford to tell me what I want to know. Especially, considering me and Joe have looked the other way with you. Cindy: Nice try. Gathering and selling information isn''t illegal. Mike: I wasn''t talking about you gathering info. Im talking about when you were a smuggler. Like Jack, Cindy had been a smuggler in the past. Though she operated independently, she often collaborated closely with the Skullcrushers. After the Bloody Days, she wanted to leave that life behind. Seeking a fresh start, she and Jack approached Joe and Mike for help in clearing their records. Joe and Mike obliged, enabling Cindy and Jack to break free from their past and start anew. Cindy gave Mike an intense stink eye at the mention of her smuggler past. Cindy: All cops really are bastards, but fine. I''ll make an exception for you. Dont say I never pay my debts. You drink tea, right? Mike nodded. Cindy: Then at least buy a cup, and Ill tell you what I can. Mike pulled out some cash and placed it on the table in front of him. Cindy collected the money and took out a cup with a metal strainer. Reaching for the shelf behind her, she grabbed a tin filled with a blend of dried leaves. She then walked over to a nearby stove and picked up a brass teapot with a long spout full of boiling milk. Cindy placed the herbs in the strainer and poured hot milk over them, allowing the liquid to infuse as she dripped it slowly. Once she finished, she removed the strainer and handed the cup to the detective. Looking down at the cup, he saw a rich, creamy brown liquid with a pleasant herbal aroma wafting up to his nose. Mike picked up the cup, feeling its warmth in his hands, and brought it to his lips. He took small sips, trying to avoid burning himself. His eyes widened in surprise as he tasted the liquid. Mike: Oh, wow. This is actually excellent. Cindy: Of course its good. That is my special blend. Its the most popular milk tea offered here. The secret is boiling milk in brass. It really brings out the flavor." Mike: I see. I probably will come here again for another cup some other time. Cindy: My doors are always open for you, Mike, she said with a smile. Mike: Now, onto business. Do you know anything about a man named Jixi? Cindy crossed her arms and seemed to go into deep thought for a few seconds before shaking her head. Cindy: Im not familiar with that name. Who is this person? Mike: Youve heard about what happened with the university, about one of their professors being a necromancer? That professor had an assistant named Jixi. Im sure youve at least seen the wanted poster about him in your line of work. Cindy whistled at what Mike just said. Cindy: Wow. Youre investigating some pretty high-level shit. Yeah, I dont think I have anything for you. I guess I wont be paying my debts today. Mike: You dont know anything about this? Cindy: Ive seen the wanted poster out for this guy like everyone else; he had a pretty hefty bounty on his head from what I vaguely recall, but I didnt pay much more attention than that. It is university business. The people I work with that collect info dont involve themselves in university business. Mike: Whys that? Is there a reason? Cindy: I went through a lot of effort to clean my record and avoid dangerous people. I know enough not to mess with the big fishes of this city, lest I get swallowed up by them. And, the university is a very big fish. So, I refuse to pay my contacts for information about them. Mike: Avoiding a big fish, huh. Interesting, considering that Nighthounds are the biggest information dealers in the city. You, being an info peddler, doesn''t step on their tails? Cause Id be more worried about them than the university. Cindy: You dont have to worry about me. I get their scraps. What I know, the Nighthounds probably already know. The people I deal with are too poor or scared to go get their information from the Nighthounds. Im not a threat to their business, and I make sure of it. So, I dont get bothered by them. Mike: Hmm, I think I get why Joe asked me to talk to you now. You might be willfully ignorant about the university and Nighthounds, but you can tell when they''re involved so that you can stay away. Cindy: What are you getting at? Mike: Im wondering if youve seen any signs of the Nighthound''s involvement with that necromancer incident at the university? Nothing specific, just that if you think theyre involved? Cindy: No, they''re not involved, she said flatly and immediately. Mike: That was quick. How are you so sure about that? Cindy: I might not know a lot about the inner workings of the Nighthounds, but they''re predictable. Its easy to guess how they would respond to certain situations. And the fact is, if they were involved with that necromancy incident, it would have never happened in the first place. That necromancer professor would have been killed so quickly if they had. They hate cultists, and necromancy is just one step away from cultism. Mike: Being a necromancer doesn''t necessarily mean youre a cultist. Cindy: Thats a distinction I dont think the Nighthounds care about. Mike: OK. So you''re basing this off their hatred of cultists. Cindy: That, and this affecting their business. Hearing that comment made Mike pause. He tried to process what he heard and understand why Sorins necromancy experiment would affect the Nighthound''s gambling and brothel businesses. Unfortunately, he didnt understand what Cindy was hinting at. Mike: Im not seeing how this affects Nighthound''s business. Cindy: Think about it. Ever since the Nighthounds took over the east end, nothing bad has ever happened to a university student there. Theyve ruled the east end for over a decade, and there has never been a single incident with a student. And, students go to the east end to party all the time. Mike thought about what Cindy was saying, and she was right about one thing. Once the Nighthounds took over the east end and the police pulled out, violent crimes went way down there. It became a lot safer in that area over time. Mike: Hmm, OK. Making the east end safe for students doesn''t explain how this is affecting their business. Cindy: The students are a source of income for the Nighthounds. There are a lot of rich students who attend the university that then go to the East End to party. Andthey spend a whole lot of money at bars, casinos, and brothels. All businesses that are controlled and operated by the Nighthounds. It is not just that the Nighthounds are keeping the area safe for students, theyre being actively protected. Theyre an investment for them. So, how do you think they would respond to someone who was killing their investments. Remember what I said, it''s easy to guess what they''ll do. If it hurts their bottom line, theyre going to do something about it. Even if necromancy wasn''t involved. There was a brief pause in the conversation. Mike took a moment to piece together what he knew about the city and the Nighthounds. Her reasoning made perfect sense and aligned seamlessly with his understanding. Mike: When you put it like that, it makes sense. Students bring a lot of money into the city. The Nighthounds, controlling such a large chunk of the city, would inevitably give them a large chunk of that money. So, ensuring nothing happens to the students would be in their interest. Huh, never thought about it like that. Cindy: Well, that''s why you came to me, she said with a smile. Mike: This is all still speculation, though. Cindy: Good luck finding evidence to prove a negative. Unless you go ask the Nighthounds themselves, youll never know for sure. Mike couldn''t help but gawk at the idea of talking with the Nighthounds, especially with what happened recently with them. Mike: Yeah, thats not gonna happen. Cindy: I figured. Mike: By the way, are you still tapped into the smuggling community? Cindy''s expression turned very serious at that question. Her playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a stern look that made her eyes narrow and her lips press into a thin line. This sudden change suggested to Mike that she did know something. Cindy: I might be Intermission XIV Within the city of Seevy, a city in the heart of Roxsis territory, a lone bar stood in the poorer part of the city. The bar, though modern in design, appeared grimy and run-down, showing signs of having seen better days. Faded paint peeled from the walls, and the once-bright neon sign flickered weakly, casting a dim glow on the cracked pavement outside. Inside, a few scattered tables with mismatched chairs occupied the dimly lit room. A full bar counter stretched along one wall, lined with bar stools that had seen better days. Behind the counter was a less-than-full shelf of bottles containing various types of cheap liquor. Currently, there were only three people in the bar. A hooded figure sat at one end of the bar, away from the other two, who were conversing with each other. The two people conversing among themselves were Steve, the bar owner, and Doug, one of his regular customers. Both men were well into their fifties, their faces etched with the lines of years spent working and weathering life''s challenges. As they stood at the end of the polished wooden bar counter, their voices low and gruff, they lamented the recent events unfolding within the city. Doug: It''s such bullshit. I barely got a pot to piss in, and now the Roxsis'' family is raising the taxes. All so our noble lord can pay for his stupid daughter''s birthday celebration. This place has been really going to dogs since the king died. Steve: I know. The nobles do whatever they want now. Doug: They at least had some restraint back then, the king would put em in their place if they got too greedy. Now, there is nothing to hold em back. This is all those king fuckers faults. Steve: Hey now. You cant blame all monarchists for whats happening. Doug: Cant I? Ive been saying this for years. We should have gotten rid of the monarchy, like they did in the Union States. But nooooooo. The monarchy is part of our culture they said, part of our history they said. Well, a lot of good thats doing us now when there is no one on the goddamn throne! Fuck the monarchists for getting us into this mess, fuck Kye Vintrox for dying and leaving no heirs, and FUCK ALL NOBLES! May they all rest in piss! Steve: Well, I can''t argue with that. Anyway, I hear the tax hike isn''t due to Lord Roxsis''s daughter''s birthday, but to raise more war funds. Doug: Oh, great. Are they going to start drafting you and me next so that they have more fighters for their stupid war? Steve: No, it''s worse than that. They apparently need the money to hire mercenaries from the Endless War cult. Doug: Are you fucking kidding me? They are going to use those battle junkies! What the fuck are we going to do when they inevitably turn on us? How are all these nobles so fucking stupid. Please tell me it''s not true. Steve: Eh, there is no official statement about it. But, apparently, there have been a lot of witch hunters around. People are speculating that it''s because the Roxsis family hired Endless War cultists. Cause you know where there are witch hunters, there are cultists, and vice versa. Doug: Huh, I haven''t seen any of them around. Steve: Really? I met one the other day. They asked me if I heard any rumors of cultism, and some questions about our lord. Doug: Did you lie and tell them you think hes a cultist? They might try and take him out if they think he is one. Steve: Ha. Should have tried that. But, nah. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. ???: Excuse me. Did you say you talked to some witch hunters? Both old men turned to the hooded figure, who had been sitting in the corner but was now standing beside them. Steve: Who wants to know? he said, sounding suspicious to the cloaked figure. The figure pulled back the hood of their cloak, revealing long, silky orange hair that cascaded over their shoulders. As the hood fell away, a beautiful face with stunning blue eyes came into view, captivating the old men with its unexpected radiance. The figure was a woman of youthful appearance, her smooth skin, and delicate features strikingly out of place amidst the dim and shadowy surroundings. Her presence brought a sudden vibrancy to the room, and the men couldn''t help but marvel at the contrast between her delicate beauty and the mysterious aura that had surrounded her moments before. Despite her undeniable beauty, the most striking and unusual feature about her was her long, pointed ears. She was an elf. Sofia: I am Sofia Firemane. A witch hunter, as she said that, pulled out an amulet with the symbol of the witch hunter logo on it. Steve: Oh! A witch hunter! Sorry, I thought you guys all left the city. Sofia: Are you saying they already left? Steve: Yeah, they all left a few days ago. Did you get separated from that group or something? Sofia: Something like that. Could you tell me where they went? Steve: Ah, the guy I talked to said he was going to Gilla. Sofia: Gilla? Where is that? Steve: Its a small community way up in the mountains; that''s a day''s journey from here. The orange-haired elf reached into her pocket and produced a weathered map, its edges frayed from frequent use. Unfurling the parchment, she revealed a labyrinth of paths and landmarks, her delicate fingers tracing the route she sought. With a voice that carried a blend of urgency and grace, she asked for detailed directions to Gilla. Steven obliged and showed her exactly how to get there. He pointed out the route she should take and how long it should take to reach her destination. Steve: Once you get to the mountain, youll have to go on foot. There are no roads for vehicles in that area. Sofia: Thank you. You have been extremely helpful. May light keep you. Steve: Sorry, I''m not religious. Sofia: Well, all the same, she said before quietly paying for a drink and leaving the bar. Once Sofia departed, the bar gradually returned to its regular atmosphere. The bartender wiped down the counter with a practiced hand, casting a final glance toward the door through which Sofia had left. Steve: Man, dont see elves around here often. Pretty as always. Doug: I feel like Ive heard of her somewhere. Like, a famous witch hunter he mumbled, unable to pin down the identity of the elf woman he just met. ?????????????????? Sofia trudged her way up a rocky path that wound its way through the mountains in the evening somewhere outside the community of Gilla. The air was thick with humidity, clinging to her skin and causing sweat to bead on her forehead and trickle down her back. Each step was laborious as she navigated the steep, uneven terrain, her boots slipping occasionally on the loose gravel. All around her, the dense forest pressed in, its canopy a tangle of verdant leaves and twisting branches. The sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves could be heard all around her. The path ahead seemed to stretch endlessly upward, a challenging journey marked by sharp inclines and jagged rocks. Despite the exertion, Sofia pressed on, her determination unwavering as she climbed further into the heart of the mountains. She had followed Steven''s direction exactly and estimated she shouldnt be too far from Gilla. While walking she started to smell smoke. Sofia looked up and saw a massive plume of smoke billowing into the sky in the direction she was headed. The thick, dark cloud churned ominously, rising higher and spreading wider with each passing moment. As she stared at the smoke, a wave of shock and horror swept over her, eyes widening and her mouth falling open. The realization of what the smoke might signify sent a chill down her spine. Sofia: Those psychopaths! They didnt! she yelled. Sofia began to rush towards her destination. Chapter 79 - Old Tunnels Mike: Do you know any smuggling groups through your connections that could sneak someone out of the city without absolutely anyone knowing? Cindy: The Nighthounds, she said quickly and flatly. Mike: Other than the Nighthounds. Cindy: I mean, any smuggler group could potentially sneak a person out of the city and hide them. But, I take it youre looking for a particularly proficient group. Mike: Yeah, someone really good. There are wanted posters for Jixi all over Golgatta, yet there has been no sightings of him anywhere. Joe suspects that he might have even left the country. Cindy: If he left the country, then it would have been by boat. He would have gone north to Loffa then. Mike: We checked that already. There were no boats leaving Loffa for another country from today to when Jixi complicity was discovered. Cindy: I dont know what to tell you then. If the police or university cant find any trace of him, I have no idea who could have sneaked this guy out. Heck, it sounds like not even those bounty hunters have found him, and those guys are really motivated to find someone when it''s such a big bounty. The only group that I know who could do it without being discovered are the Nighthounds. Mike: But, you said you were confident it wasn''t them? Cindy: I did, and still stand by that. I still dont think they''re involved, but theyre the only group that could pull this off. If this Jixi guy didnt leave by boat then it was by foot, and trying to leave the Union State on foot without a single person seeing him is nearly impossible. The only other form of transportation that would allow him to go unnoticed is teleportation. And, there are rumors that the Nighthounds have their own secret teleportation network, and even a guy that can teleport people without a circle. Mike: Is there any truth to that? Cindy: Probably not. This is Graheel, a city brimming with mages and the largest magical institution on this side of the world. The Nighthounds are good, but there is no way they could construct a teleportation network without the university detecting that. And, have you ever heard of anyone teleporting without the use of a circle and surviving? Teleportation magic had always been known as a particularly finicky and demanding branch of the arcane arts. It couldn''t be cast casually or on a whim. The process required a teleportation circle inscribed with an extraordinarily complex arcane mathematical formula and precise coordinates. These circles needed to be in fixed locations and could only teleport a person to another circle it was specifically connected to. Attempting to use teleportation magic without the aid of a circle was widely considered suicidal. Without the exact coordinates embedded in the teleportation circle, a mage could easily miscalculate and teleport themselves into the ground or other solid matter, resulting in instant death. And as Cindy suggested, this type of magic was remarkably easy to detect. Each use emitted a massive pulse of aether that radiated out into the surrounding area for miles. These pulses could be picked up by various aether detection tools, making it nearly impossible to use teleportation magic without alerting those nearby. Cindy: My point is, that rumor exists because the Nighthounds are that good at secretly moving things around. Even before they became as powerful as they are now. Mike: Hmm, but you do bring up a good point. The university has their own teleportation network they closely monitor. I imagine they would have told us if Jixi used it, but I should ask just in case. Cindy: Im sorry I cant point you to any particular smuggling group. I only know two groups that are really good, but they dont mess with the university. And, helping Jixi might catch the ire of the Nighthounds, so they definitely wouldnt try sneaking him out of the city. All the other groups I know of are pretty sloppy, so you should have found some signs of Jixi if it was them. Those groups are also pretty unscrupulous, they might have tried to betray Jixi and collect the bounty on his head. Mike: All the same, could you tell me the two you think could move Jixi out of the city. Cindy: I dont know for sure, but I''ll ask my old partner in crime, Vennessa" When Cindy worked as a smuggler, she never did it alone. She collaborated with a group of people to move goods. Vennessa, her right-hand woman in that entire operation, was a name Mike was familiar with. Mike: She still smuggling? Cindy: No, she went straight after I got out. It was easier for her than me. She didnt have a record like me when she left that world behind. But, she did develop a knack for moving stuff and now imports goods through legal channels. She, hypothetically, could move someone out of the city. But like I said, I doubt she would. Mike: And the other? Cindy: I dont know for sure if he could move someone out of the city, but there is someone named Wrenn Cummy that might be able to. Mike: Wait, Wrenn? he said, surprised. Cindy: Do you know him? Mike: Jack told us about him. Hes a drug dealer. Cindy: Yeah, he moves dream-shrooms into the city. So, Im guessing he has some sort of channel to move stuff. Mike began to recall his last interaction with Wrenn. It had been a tense and unusual encounter. Joe and Dan had decided to investigate Wrenn''s basement while Mike stayed upstairs, keeping an eye on Wrenn. They then came back smelling awful and said he was growing the illegal shroom in a wooden crate downstairs. Mike: I dont think hes moving any of that into the city. Pretty sure hes growing it in his basement. Cindy: Really? That stuff is not easy to cultivate. It only grows in a forest on dead trees. I find it hard to imagine anyone being able to grow that stuff inside the city. Mike: No, Im pretty sure he was growing it in his store. Maybe he knows some sort of secret cult method to get them to grow better in the city. Cindy: Ah, OKhuh? Cult method? she said as she briefly paused to process what Mike had just said. Hold on a second. Are you saying Wrenn is a cultist?!? Mike: Yeah, didnt you know? Cindy: NO! she yelled out. As she yelled out, everyone in the store paused, their activities coming to an abrupt halt. Heads turned and eyes focused on Cindy, curiosity and concern evident on their faces as they wondered why she was yelling. The once bustling atmosphere of the store fell into a momentary silence, with all attention riveted on the source of the commotion. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Cindy: Um, sorry everyone. Everything is fine. Theres nothing to see. Just heard some shocking news, she addressed all her customers looking at her. Realizing that the commotion was nothing serious, everyone in the hookah bar quickly returned to their previous activities. Conversations resumed, tea was sipped on, and the aromatic smoke lazily continued to fill up the space as the patrons settled back into their relaxed state. Once Cindy was confident no one was looking at her, or trying to listen in, she turned her focus back onto Mike. Cindy: How long has he been a cultist? Which cult does he belong to? Damn it. I buy herbs from him to make some of my brews and smokes. Im going to have to stop going to him now. Mike: Im surprised you didnt know. Cindy: I stay away from those kinds of people, even when I was a smuggler. You either like playing with fire, or you''re stupid if you willingly work with a worshiper of the nameless gods. They might be more dangerous than the Nighthounds, and that is saying something. If I knew Wrenn was a cultist, I would have never associated with him. Mike: I wouldnt worry. Wrenn is harmless. He belongs to one few cults that are not outlawed. Cindy: Those exist? Cults that are harmless and legal? Mike: Yeah, they are rare, but they do exist. They mostly keep to themselves and dont bother anyone else. I would say based on what I now know about Wrenns cult, The Putrid Rot, they are weird and kinda gross, but not dangerous. Cindy: Ugh, Putrid Rot. That sounds so gross. But, that tracks. Wrenn stinks like a garbage dump. I always thought it was because he doesn''t shower. The only saving grace is that inside his store he has so many aromatic herbs laying about, it covers his stank. But, outside his store, oof. Its bad. Mike: Hope this does not affect your relationship with him. You and Jack seem like you might be friends with him. I had to look into Wrenn when I found out about the cult shenanigans. But, overall he wasn''t that bad of a person. And, I havent found any indication of him doing the messed up cult things youd expect. Cindy: We are friends. Were friends? I dont know. Yeah, Wrenn is strange. But, like you said, not a bad person. Im going to have to talk to Jack about confronting Wrenn about this. I really dont want to find another herbal supplier if I can help it. Mike nodded and picked up the cup of tea, now cooled to nearly room temperature. Without hesitation, he raised the cup to his lips and gulped down the entire contents in one swift motion. He then placed the empty cup back on the table in front of him. Mike: Well, thank you for the information. I''ll come back later after you talk to Vennessa, he said as stood and prepared to leave. Cindy: Wait, before you go. Let me posit you a theory, for the information you told me about Wrenn. Mike did as he was told and sat back down to listen to what Cindy was going to tell him. Cindy: Its possible that Jixi didnt leave the city. Mike: You think hes hiding somewhere in Graheel? Hmm, that was considered, but everyone working on this thought it was unlikely. There are a lot of people looking for him. And like you said a little bit ago, there are bounty hunters after him as well. They''re all over the city looking for him to collect that money. Between us and the bounty hunters, he would have been found already if he was hiding somewhere here. Cindy: Youre probably right if this was a normal city, but Graheel is not a normal city. It is old, extremely so. Mike: What does being old have to do with anything? Cindy: This is a city full of mages due to the presence of the university and the Arcanium Archive. In the early days of the Graheel, some mages would seek out some less than savory material for their experiments. To get a hold of those materials without anyone knowing, they constructed tunnels under the city to move them. Mike: Yeah, the city and governments put a stop to that a long time ago. Like literally two thousand years ago. Now there are proper channels to get those materials if theyre needed for an experiment. Cindy: But, the tunnels still remain. And, there are a lot of them. Dig around a little and youll find a tunnel that you weren''t expecting to find. Smugglers today, and back when I was one, use those tunnels. They''re quite expansive and branch out like a complex underground spider web. If you wanted to move something or someone in and out of the city, without anyone knowing, you would use those tunnels. But more important than that, theyre also a good place to hide. Mike: Hes hidingin those tunnels? Cindy: Yup, but it''s just a theory of mine. I have no evidence. But, it would explain why there are no clues of his whereabouts anywhere. He fled the university after being discovered and went straight into the tunnels below to hide. Mike: Is that even possible? Hes been missing for a while now. He would have to leave the tunnels eventually to come for things like food and water. Cindy: Not necessarily. Those tunnels also connect to underground chambers that are quite spacious and have a lot of utilities you would need to live. Things like running water and electricity. All you would need is some canned food and you could stay underground for a long time. Mike: Really? I knew about the tunnels a little bit, but what are these chambers about? Cindy: I think some of them used to be hidden storage houses to store their questionable material, or a place the mages of old would hide away in. Mike: But they didn''t have electricity or plumbing back then. How do they have running water in them? Cindy: Some of the chambers were discovered and incorporated into buildings above them and then abandoned again. That is why some of them have plumbing and electricity installed. Or, in my case, my group dug into some electrical work above and leached into the network to get some lights going on in our little secret underground bunker. By the way, I dont have access anymore to that bunker anymore. It was discovered and incorporated into a building above. Mike: In that case, the bounty hunters should find him soon. Theyre relentless. Im sure theyre going through those tunnels looking for him. Cindy: I think youre underestimating how many tunnels there are. I dont think anyone has ever mapped all of them from two thousand years ago. Tunnels no one knew about are always being found. And, those are just the tunnels the mages of ancient Graheel made. There are even more below that, and they''re even more expansive and older still. We call them the deep tunnels. The stonework in those passages are really fancy and make me think its from the mythic era. Mike: I heard that Graheel was built on top of an ancient forgotten city. Those tunnels might be remnants of that city. Possibly even from the mythic era like you said. I think the archives were originally partly built here to study those old ruins. Cindy: Yeah, but I doubt he is hiding specificity in those tunnels. Ive only gone down that deep once and I dont know. Im not claustrophobic, but something about when I was down there in the deep tunnels made me feel uncomfortable. It was something the others in my smuggling crew also felt. I think just being that far below the earth has a weird effect on the psyche, and I couldnt imagine spending days or weeks that far underground. The normal tunnels closer to the surface would be fine, but not the deep tunnels. Mike: Is it dangerous down there? Cindy: Oh, definitely. If one of the tunnels the old mages of Graheel made collapse while youre in it and become trapped, there is still a possibility of rescue. Youd be close enough to the surface that a team of mages specializing in moving earth could get you out. But, that is not the case for the deep tunnels. It is too far below the surface to effectively move earth, even with magic. So, if you become trapped down there youre screwed. Not to mention those tunnels are booby trapped. Lost the tip of my toe to a giant blade that popped out of the wall when I stepped on the wrong stone. Came within a hair''s length of also losing my head back then too. Decided to never go that deep again after that. she said while rubbing her neck. Mike: Sounds like it might be too dangerous of a place to hide, even for Jixi. Cindy: I mean, if he hid in the deep tunnels, no one would find himever. she said ominously, hinting at how unsettling the deep tunnels were to her. Mike let out a long sigh. Mike: Thank you for this information Cindy. Im sure it will help somehow. Ill let my team know what you told me about the tunnels. he said, as began to leave. As Mike stood up to leave once again, Cindy grabbed his hand, delaying his departure. She had a concerned look and worry etched on her face, her eyes filled with apprehension as they locked onto Mike''s. Cindy: Mike, I heard you and Joe had a run in with the Nighthounds. I don''t know what happened or how you managed to walk away from it, but be careful. During the Bloody Days it was so she said before stopping and making a painful expression. Mike: You dont need to say it. I was there too, he said before walking away. Side Story 3 - Robert’s Grayland Expedition Journal -2/11/2988- Hello, to all who may be reading this. My name is Robert Evan, and I am a scholar at Obsidian Tower University. I specialize in research about the mysterious race known as the Graywalkers. Im preparing an expedition into the homeland of the Graywalkers, known as the Graylands, and during this expedition, I intend to record my experience in this journal for possible future publication, as many others have done before. Now, let me provide a brief explanation of how this expedition came to be. It was early in the year when I was approached by a wealthy businessman from Hoxly, a man by the name of Gibber. He was exceptionally elderly, yet still exuded the charisma of someone who had built a considerable fortune in the textile industry. Gibber sought out an expert willing to lead an expedition into the perilous Graylands, and thats when he came to me. The purpose of the expedition was to retrieve the mysterious gray flowers. An exceptionally rare and key ingredient in the production of life-extending potions. This was an alchemical ingredient that was traded regularly with the Graywalkers thousands of years ago, before the foolish king Frederick killed one of the Graywalkers. I swear, if I could go back in time, I would strangle Frederick with my own two hands. That fool killed a Greywalker, convinced that consuming its heart would grant him immortality. How he came up with such a revolting idea, I will never understand. Yet, I find some grim satisfaction in the fact that Frederick discovered firsthand that consuming Greywalker organs is very lethal. Still, I will never forgive him! His reckless actions caused the Graywalkers to retreat deep into the Graylands, where they have almost never been seen since. This has made the task of acquiring Gray flowers infinitely more challenging and has made my work as a scholar of Graywalkers exceedingly difficult. There are just too few sources of information about the Greywalker to properly understand them. The records of human interaction with them are sparse, and the conversation with the giant that interacted with Graywalkers is unhelpful. The only thing the Giant sages say about the Graywalkers is: They are not ones to be known or understood. Oh, dear. Now, reading this, I seem to have trailed off on another tangent. (Remove rant about Fredrick before publishing) When Gibber explained that he wanted to acquire Gray flowers, it wasnt difficult to understand his motive. One look at his deeply wrinkled face and white hair told the story. Although he never explicitly said so, I suspected that he was grappling with age-related health issues and was likely seeking to create life-extending potions to counteract some of those conditions. Under ordinary circumstances, Im not sure I would have accepted Gibber''s proposal to lead an expedition into the Graylands. The place is exceptionally dangerous, and those who venture there sometimes disappear without a trace. However, my scholarly curiosity was ignited by the prospect. The chance to explore the Graylands, to witness firsthand the environment where the Graywalkers live, and to deepen my understanding of these mysterious creatures was simply too tempting to resist. The substantial fortune Gibber offered for each Gray flower we brought back also sweetened the deal. Just one flower would be enough for me to live in luxury for the rest of my days. (Remove that last part about the money) I ultimately agreed without hesitation, and the following weeks and months will be spent collaborating closely with Gibber to assemble a team and secure the necessary supplies for the expedition. The preparations will be extensive, with every detail meticulously planned to ensure the success of our venture into the Graylands. -3/10/2988- Today, Gibber introduced me to a man named Sam Bueve. He was a titan of a man. Muscular and stood over seven feet tall (2.15 meters). His size made me wonder if he was giant-kin. Despite Sams imposing appearance, he was actually a very pleasant individual. Friendly and amenable to talk with. It was surprising to learn that he was trained as a combat mage and mercenary. I have always been under the impression that mercenaries were unpleasant people to interact with. But, Sam seemed to fly in the face of that assumption. I guess one should never judge a book by its cover. Gibber told me that Sam would be in charge of the security detail. I was to talk to Sam and explain the possible dangers we may face while in the Graylands. I explained to Gibber and Sam that any records of dangers in the Graylands are purely psychological and supernatural. It wasn''t something that I believed Sams military training could protect against. Despite my reservations, Sam insisted that he and his mercenary team should be part of the expedition, arguing that there might be physical dangers not accounted for in the records. I could only smile at his persistence. After all, Sam was still a mercenary, clearly looking to secure a lucrative contract from Gibber. Yet, there was some truth to his reasoning. Having a team with combat experience could indeed prove valuable in the unpredictable terrain of the Graylands. And, considering it was Gibbers money funding the expedition, I saw no reason to object. In the end, I didnt attempt to stop Sams mercenaries from joining our team. Besides, I was certain that his crew possessed a range of skills beyond combat that would be useful during the expedition. Their presence might even turn out to be an unexpected asset in ways I hadnt anticipated. And to be honest, I found Sam quite charming. A man clearly hailing from good blood. I feel like I could trust him. -3/13/2988- Today, I was introduced to Sam''s mercenary crew. They were a rough, battle-hardened group of men, each one bearing the unmistakable marks of years spent in combat. Their demeanor was gruff and no-nonsense, with an intensity that spoke of countless skirmishes and battles fought. These were not men to be taken lightly; their experience and toughness were evident in the way they carried themselves, always alert, always ready for whatever might come their way. It was clear that Sam had chosen his team well, surrounding himself with individuals who had seen their fair share of danger and lived to tell the tale. They wore heavy mage combat armor, heavily modified with various additions that made it easy to identify them as part of the same unit. The addition to their armor I could only describe as Spikey. It just seemed like a lot of unnecessary sharp edges were added to their armor. Overall it was more intimidating than practical, giving them a menacing appearance that matched their tough demeanor. It was during this meeting that I met Tom. I did not like Tom. Personality-wise, he was the complete opposite of Sam. He embodied everything I despised about mercenariesrude, inconsiderate, and clearly hailing from one of the lower servant classes of an inbred and uncultured unhuman savage. It was obvious by the shape of skull that he came from lesser stock. There was a slightly crazed look in his eyes that set me on edge, making me question his mental stability. I couldn''t shake the feeling that he might be a liability to our expedition, as he seemed a little too eager for action, almost trigger-happy. His presence made me uneasy, and I couldnt help but worry that his recklessness could put us in danger. (Remove the racial insult/slurs and mentions of inbred to avoid causing controversy) I voiced my concerns about Tom to Sam, but Sam quickly tried to reassure me. He insisted that he trusted Tom with his life, emphasizing that Tom had nerves of steel that had never wavered, even in the most extreme combat situations. However, I couldnt shake my doubts. Stressful situations and the Graylands were two entirely different beasts. What good were "nerves of steel" in a place that seemed to pervert the laws of nature as the Graylands? The unique dangers we would face there demanded more than just combat experience, and I wasnt convinced that Tom was equipped to handle them. Unfortunately, I couldnt persuade Sam to leave Tom behind. He firmly stated that they were a "package deal," leaving no room for negotiation. Realizing that Sam was immovable on the matter, I decided to drop the issue. However, I resolved to keep a close watch on Tom throughout the entire expedition. His unpredictability made me uneasy, and I knew Id need to stay vigilant. -3/15/2988- It seemed that Sam could still sense my unease about Tom and asked me to watch them work during a training session to assuage my fears. Unfortunately, it did not. This was also the day that Sam wanted to explain to his men the danger of the Graylands to them, and so I did. I told them the danger of something we scholars of the Graywalkers call the Graying. A supernatural phenomenon that occurs only in the Graylands. For whatever reason, color slowly starts to drain whatever clothing you''re wearing and eventually even yourself, until you and everything you''re wearing become some shades of gray. I was laughed at by that detested Tom! Said, Whats the big deal about clothing turning gray. Such a fool he is! I had to explain further. I asked Tom what he thinks happens after a person, and I meant a person, and not the clothing theyre wearing, turned gray. He gazed upon me with his mouth agape, a vacuous expression draped across his face like a mask of profound idiocy. Clearly, there is no answer to grasp in that empty head of his. My overwhelming knowledge and intelligence are lost on such a simple-minded fool. Continuing to explain, I told him that once the graying spreads to your flesh, it starts to bleed into your mind. Your thoughts also become gray, as another scholar put it. Once that happens, people usually develop an extremely severe case of dissociation, a mental disorder that can stay with you for the rest of your life if you are not careful. The expression that twisted across Tom''s face after I had finished my explanation was a sight that filled me with satisfaction. His eyes, which had moments before blazed with a confident, almost contemptuous fire, now widened with a mix of disbelief and dawning danger. It was at that moment that I found myself besieged by a barrage of frantic inquiries from Sam''s menonce brimming with bravado, but now clearly gripped by an encroaching dread. Their faces, once indifferent or even mocking, had transformed into masks of apprehension. Would an airtight suit protect us? one of them stammered, his face pale and twisted with concern. They were all beginning to grasp the true depth of the danger I had been warning about. I told them an airtight suit wouldn''t help. The graying cares not for the air we breathe. It is no poison of the lungs, no miasma that a helmet might filter away. It is a phenomenon that is based on proximity to the Graylands. Once we enter the Graylands the graying will immediately start affecting us. I could see the fear on the faces of Sam''s men deepen as I explained this to them. Oh, how satisfying it is to watch the arrogant veneer of those once-proud military men crumble before a force they could neither conquer nor comprehend. Their faces, once set in rigid confidence, twisted into horror as they finally grasped the dreadful reality before thema threat against which their weapons, their strategies, and their very strength were as impotent as children waving sticks against the storm. Alas, I had my fill of satisfaction from terrifying them at the moment and shifted to placate their fears. I explained to them that the graying is a very slow process. It also affects the object you carry first, leaving your flesh the last thing to start turning gray. So, if we''re quick, we can get into the Graylands and out with only a few pieces of ruined clothingrather than suffer any of the potential mental debilitation. This appeared to soothe the nerves of most of Sams men, their rigid postures loosening and their eyes no longer darting with frantic uncertainty. Yet, there were still a few among them whose gazes betrayed a lingering dread, eyes that remained clouded with doubt and mistrust. To those wavering souls, I offered further reassurance. "Prepare yourselves as I instruct, and we shall get through this unharmed," I spoke with a confidence I did not entirely possess, for I knew all too well that there are likely dangers to the Graylands that even I am unaware of. It is hard for such a great mind as I to know exactly what others are thinking, but I like to think that these men of war finally understand the dangers we face now and might finally begin to respect me. -3/16/2988- Today I will meet with a team of engineers and builders. I needed to talk with them to make a necessary device for our expedition into the Graylands. Within the Graylands no conventional navigation techniques or devices work. The stars do not shine to guide, and there are now known notable landmarks to follow, even a compass does not function in that place. So, following in the footsteps of scholar Jax, who made a journey into the Graylands a hundred years ago, I prepared for this inevitability. The thing I sought from these craftsmen was arope. Yes, a most primitive technology, but necessary. I intend to leave behind a large rope as we travel the Graylands, using it to help find our way out, as Jax had done. Since there is no normal way to navigate the Graylands, this rope will be our group''s lifeline, the thing that will guide us out of that place. As such, It must be flawlessimpervious to any strain that might seek to sever itand of a length sufficient to plunge deep into the Graylands. It will also need a machine capable of deploying and reeling in that rope. I assume this machine will have to be of substantial size and mechanical power. I realized as I write this. In a manner most uncanny, this rope would serve similar to that of a cable for a diving bell of old, which once bore intrepid souls down into the unexplored depths of the ocean. It is somewhat poetic. I will update my journal tomorrow after I speak with the engineers. -3/17/2988- I have conferred with the engineers, and they have guaranteed what I seek can be made. A rope that will not be easily broken that is light enough for us to carry and leave behind as we travel. And, a machine capable of deploying the cable and retracting it. They recommended a cable made from a relatively newly discovered alloy that they called Silter or Lesser Jinsil. It does have all the properties I was seeking but the price. It seemed the reason they referred to it as "lesser jinsil" lay in its compositiona curious alloy forged from iron and the rare substance known as darlight. Darlight, I was told, is a vital component in the creation of jinsil. As you might surmise from mentioning jinsil, the figure quoted to me was anything but modest. Jinsil is prohibitively expensive and highly sought out for suppressing aetheric energies, so the materials used to make jinsil are also very expensive. A cable crafted from silter would cost less than half the price of one made from pure jinsil. Yet, even with this compromise, the length of cable required for the expedition would be considerable, and the expenses would still mount to an uncomfortable amount. I dont like the prospect of using a hemp rope, like Jax did with his expedition. A simple rope might suffice, but I desired something far sturdiersomething less prone to fray and snap when faced with the unknown perils that lay ahead. It became clear I would need to consult Gibber. Perhaps he, with his network of contacts and business dealings, could procure the silter cable at a more reasonable price. Worst case scenario, we can always use a regular iron or steel cable. We just wont be able to travel as far due to weight constrictions. In the meantime, I would have a week to prepare for my next meeting with Gibbera week to plan and refine my arguments, to find the precise words that might sway him into obtaining the silter cable I so desperately needed. -3/24/2988- I fear I have gravely underestimated Gibber''s desperation for the elusive gray flowersor, perhaps, I have misjudged the extent of his wealth. When I disclosed to him the exorbitant sum required for the materials I sought, I fully expected a drawn-out negotiation, perhaps even a complete refusal. Instead, to my astonishment, he agreed without hesitation. And that was it. I spent so much time preparing to convince him, and he just agreed. No questions asked. I''m not used to this. Working for the Obsidian Towers in a field that is not very valued, Im more used to fighting with people to get the necessary funding for my department. Thus, the ease with which Gibber agreed to provide the funds for my current undertaking felt profoundly alien. The sudden shift from grappling with financial gatekeepers to being granted my request without a hint of hesitation was disorienting. This feeling was further compounded by Gibber unexpectedly providing additional funds, insisting I hire the entire team of engineers I had talked with. To make them part of the expedition team. Obviously, this would be greatly helpful. Having a team of skilled engineers on hand would ensure our equipment remained in working order amidst the strange terrain and unpredictable conditions. Yet, such a notion had not even crossed my mind; I had been focused on adhering to a reasonable budget, carefully weighing every expense. I might have hired a single engineer or two, but hiring a full team of engineers would push us well beyond the bounds of what could be considered reasonable. It seemed excessivealmost recklessly so. Yet, Gibber dismissed my concerns with a wave of his hand, telling me not to worry about the moneythat such sums were of no consequence to him. His words hung in the air, a casual dismissal of what most would consider a fortune. In a single breath, the modest budget I had painstakingly calculated was swept aside and replaced with an amount that had suddenly expanded tenfold, with the promise of even more if necessary. It was a gesture that left me reeling. Could a man from the textile industry really have that much money? To see someone like Gibber toss around such a staggering amount of money with such casual disregard forced me to reconsider who he truly was. The question flickered briefly in my mind, only to be quickly discarded. Men who possess the ability to spend vast sums without a second thought are seldom benign, and probing too deeply into their affairs often invites danger. To ask who they really are or to pry into the origins of their wealth is to risk them showing you their fangs. So, I left it at that. -5/02/2988- After weeks of meticulous preparation, we were finally ready to embark on our journey to the Graylands. The trek to the border would take just over two weeks, slowed by the sheer volume of supplies and equipment packed into our caravan. However, there was no urgency in our pace; the true need for speed would come once we ventured deep into the heart of the Graylands, where time would become a far more precious commodity. Sam assured me that his men were ready and that they had read the document I had given to him and his men to read to better prepare themselves. Sams assurance was not merely a formalityit was a solemn declaration that they were as ready as any mortal could be. The tone in which Sam was assuring me was undercut by Toms witty comments. He was trying to be a smart ass and say this would be easier than fighting endless war cultists. How I wanted to smack him for ruining Sam''s speech he made to me. This would be a long journey with that fool tagging along. 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?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ???????????????????? ????????????? ???????????????????????????? ??????? ???????????? ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ?????????????????????????????????????? ???????? ?????? ???????????????????????? ??????????? ???????????????????? ???????? ?????? ?????????????????????????????????????? ???????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ???????????????????????? ??????? ????????????????????? ?????????????????? ???????? ?????? ???????????????????????? ??????????? ???????????????????? ???????? ?????? ?????????????????????????????????????? ???????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ???????????????????????? ??????? ????????????????????? -5/05/2988- Why does misfortune cling to me so relentlessly? We had barely set out from Hoxlyno more than a day on the roadand already disaster struck. One of the trucks in our caravan faltered, its engine stuttering and choking before we were forced to pull over. Of all the vehicles to break down, it had to be the one carrying the precious silter cablethe very lifeline we would depend on once we ventured into the Graylands. With such a critical load immobilized, the entire caravan ground to a halt, unable to press forward. The engineers quickly swarmed around the truck, their tools clinking as they examined the malfunction. After what felt like an eternity of tense waiting, they assured me the issue could be resolved, though not until tomorrow. A wave of relief washed over me, but only briefly. Thank the Light we had a full team of engineers on handhad it been otherwise, we might have languished here for days, all due to this mechanical failure. Though I had told myself there was no rush, I still longed to have this endeavor finished before the year''s end. As if being stranded on the roadside wasnt frustrating enough, I found myself stuck in conversation with Tom for the better part of the daya situation that tested both my patience and my sanity. The man, with his slow-witted prattle and vacant expressions, grated on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. I feared that prolonged exposure to his inbred idiocy might dull my own senses, as if his foolishness were some contagious affliction. Each mindless comment he made left me feeling as though my intellect was being steadily eroded, one nonsensical remark at a time. How could such a man have found his way onto this expedition? His presence alone felt like an insult to Sam, a respectable man of good blood. If this was the caliber of person I had to endure along the way, then all the more reason to press forward quicklybefore the Graylands claimed not only my time and resources but perhaps my sanity as well. -5/07/2988- Two days have passed since the trucks breakdown. In truth, little of note has occurred since the incidentjust endless stretches of road, the landscape blurring into an indistinct haze as we pressed onward. The days have been consumed by nothing more than the hum of engines and the ceaseless crunch of tires against gravel, a slow crawl through miles of empty, unremarkable terrain. To stave off the crushing boredom, Ive buried myself in a few books, trying to keep my mind engaged as the hours drag by. The only occurrence of any interest was during our brief stop at a small, isolated town along the way. The locals I spoke with seemed gripped by a quiet but palpable unease, their conversations laced with hushed whispers of an impending war. According to the rumors circulating, the Union States was on the brink of launching an invasion into Gix, setting the stage for a conflict that would engulf the region. Now, Ive never claimed to be a man well-versed in the world of geopolitics, but from what I understand, there hasn''t been a major war between Gix and the Union States for centuries. The occasional skirmish at the border, yessmall, inconsequential spats that hardly merited attention. But a full-blown war? That seemed far-fetched. I chalked it up to nothing more than idle speculation, the kind of rumors that small towns tend to breed in the absence of real news. Still, I couldnt shake the nagging thought that I might be wrong, and the consequences if I were wrong would be disastrous. A war between Gix and the Union States would decimate our expedition before we even reached our destination, as the Graylands were right on the border. Going anywhere near the border while a war is going on would not be the greatest idea. I could only hope that these rumors would die as quickly as they had arisen. -5/08/2988- Today, we made our way through a stretch of dense woodland, the trees towering overhead and casting long shadows across the road. Yet, despite the change in scenery, nothing of real interest occurred. The day passed in a sort of dull haze, my mind more occupied with avoiding the insufferable company of Tom than with the surrounding landscape. His incessant chatter was like the persistent drone of a fly, always hovering on the edge of my awareness, but I managed to keep my distance, retreating into the pages of the book Id been reading to maintain some semblance of peace. In truth, the monotony has settled in fully now. Theres little worth documentingjust the endless road ahead and the tedious crawl of time. Unless something of note happens in the coming days, I see little reason to continue updating this journal for the time being. For now, Ill leave these entries in silence, waiting for somethinganythingof worth to record. -5/11/2988- Our route brought us near the towering presence of Everflow Mountain, a sight that never fails to inspire awe, no matter how many times one encounters it. The sheer magnitude of the mountain is beyond descriptiona monolithic titan that seems to defy reason. As we traveled along the road, its vast form dominated the western horizon, its peak piercing the sky, veiled in the mist like some ancient deity watching over the land. Even though this marks the third time in my life that Ive laid eyes upon Everflow Mountain, its majesty remains undiminished. Each time feels like the first, the overwhelming scale of it stirring something within mea mix of wonder and insignificance. No matter how familiar I become with its silhouette, I find myself captivated by its immensity, its rugged cliffs and sprawling ridges stretching out as far as I can see. It is the kind of sight that humbles you, reminding you that, in the grand scheme of things, you are but a fleeting speck against the backdrop of something timeless and enduring. It still boggles my mind that such a colossal and imposing mountain as the Everflow is not the tallest on the continent, but rather the second. Its sheer size and majesty would make one assume it held the top position, yet the title of the highest peak still belongs to the distant, snow-laden giants of the Toegorea Mountain Range, far to the east in the Union States. Even knowing this fact doesnt make it any easier to accept. Standing in Everflow''s shadow, with its massive slopes stretching endlessly upward, it feels impossible that there could be something grander, something towering even higher. The mountains of Toegorea must truly be beyond comprehension if they dwarf Everflow, for I can scarcely imagine anything more awe-inspiring than what now looms before me. It dawned on me today that, for all the times Ive marveled at Everflow Mountain, I have never truly beheld its southern sidethe place where its famed waters cascade from hidden heights, forming those colossal waterfalls that give birth to the Everflow River. That mighty river, winding its way through the landscape, nourishes the fertile lands of Harvest Valley, turning the region into one of the most abundant farmlands on the continent. Its a wonder Ive never made the journey to witness such a site with my own eyes. To see those waterfalls plunging from the mountain''s heights, to stand at the source of the river that sustains so many lives. The thought stirs something within mea longing to explore more of this great mountain than the glimpses Ive been afforded over the years. Once this expedition is behind me, I believe I shall make it a priority to travel southward and take in those sights for myself. -5/12/2988- I cannot help but feel like an utter fool. Why I ever gave Tom the benefit of the doubt remains a mystery to me now, a lapse in judgment I should have known better than to make. Today, after the long, wearisome drive that seemed to stretch on endlessly throughout the day, Tom approached me with that same irritating persistence. He was full of questionsquestions about the Graywalkers. His curiosity appeared genuine enough on the surface at the time. The notes I had provided to Sam and his men about the Graylands offered little in the way of explanation concerning those enigmatic beings themselves. At the time, I hadn''t felt it necessary to burden them with such knowledge. After all, there seemed no reason to believe we would encounter them on this expedition. Tom, in his usual curiosity, asked me about the Graywalkershow they acted and what they looked like. Being asked questions about Graywalkers sparked my passion as a scholar of these strange beings. And, I began to explain wholeheartedly about them. I described the Graywalkers to him, attempting to paint a vivid picture of their appearance. I told them they were something akin to a giant-kin in staturetowering but with long, thin limbs. Their skin, though, was a smooth, pallid gray, like ash or stone, devoid of any hair. What truly set them apart, however, were their eyeslarge and obsidian black, with no visible pupils, vast and expressionless. Their heads were large and bulbous, almost disproportionate to the rest of their frame, giving them an alien and unnerving appearance. Three elongated fingers extended from each hand, and their feet, similarly, had only three toes. They stood upright, but unlike any humanthey moved on digitigrade legs, similar to some beasts. The mere memory of seeing the sole Greywalker specimen preserved and encased in amber beneath the Obsidian Towers still sends a chill through me. There was something so strange about these beings. From there, I began to share what scant knowledge we had gathered of the Graywalkers'' culturea subject that fascinated me, even if the details were elusive and fragmented. I had barely scratched the surface when Tom interrupted with a question so arrogant and shortsighted that it made my blood pressure spike. He asked, with a smugness that only the ignorant can provide, how one would go about killing a Graywalker, as if they were mere beasts to be hunted. The question stirred a deep sense of frustration and anger within me, a surge of indignation I struggled to contain. It was infuriating to think that this inbred, unhuman, unthinking fool had shown even a moments interest in my field of study! His inquiry wasnt born from curiosity or a desire to understand these ancient beings. No, it was the kind of brutish, instinctual thought that disregarded the mystery and complexity of their existence in favor of base violence. He attempted to justify his question, claiming he merely wanted to know how we could better defend ourselves against the Graywalkers, but I wasn''t having it. His defense was flimsy, nothing more than a poor excuse for his ignorant bloodlust. The truth is, the Graywalkers have never posed a threat to anyoneif anything, the opposite is closer to reality. Humans, with our fear of the unknown and our tendency to destroy what we cannot understand, are far more dangerous to the Graywalkers than they have ever been to us. For a moment, I felt ashamed that I had even entertained the notion that he might be capable of genuine interest in my work, that beneath his vacant stares and crude comments there might be some flicker of intelligence. But thisthis arrogant questiononly confirmed what I had suspected all along: that Tom was an unworthy mind, the result of being from bad blood. The thought of discussing the Graywalkers any further with him made me feel as though I were wasting my breath. I made it abundantly clear to both Tom and Sam that, on the off chanceone in a millionthat we ever cross paths with a Greywalker, under no circumstances are we to harm it. -5/13/2988- Another day of endless driving, with the road stretching ahead in the same monotonous fashion. My irritation with Tom still simmers from yesterdays conversation, and it seems even he has sensed the tension. Hes been keeping his distance, a fact I welcome wholeheartedly. Honestly, Id be quite content if I never had to exchange another word with him for the remainder of this journey. His absence, however slight, is a relief. Were about three days from reaching our destination now, drawing closer to the border of the Graylands with every mile. The anticipation of what lies ahead grows heavier, but for now, the journey remains uneventful. Unless something of note happens over the next few days, I see little reason to update this journal again until we reach the edge of the Graylandswhere the true journey will begin. Until then, Ill savor the silence and keep my thoughts focused on the task ahead. -5/16/2988- We have finally arrived at our destination: the Irioa Grasslands. Stretching endlessly before us was a vast expanse of vibrant green, the grasslands rolling and undulating in gentle waves beneath the sky. The sheer openness of the landscape was overwhelminga seemingly infinite sea of emerald, unmarred by even a single tree for miles in any direction. The air here feels differentcleaner, crisper, as if untouched by the hand of man. The horizon blends seamlessly with the sky, where the land meets the heavens in a hazy, shimmering line. It''s a strange contrast to the claustrophobic forests and craggy mountains weve passed, and the sheer emptiness has a power all its own, like an ancient, forgotten realm unbothered by the passage of time. There''s a sense of quiet isolation here, as though the grasslands have been waiting, undisturbed, for centuries for someone to set foot upon them. As I write this, I find myself utterly surrounded by nature, with not a single structure in sightsave for the imposing gray stone that looms directly in front of me. It stands as a silent sentinel. I turn my gaze to the right and left, and I can see more of these stones scattered throughout the landscape. They form a line, marking the border of the Graylands. In my studies of the Graywalkers, I have traveled here to examine these formidable stones many times. Known as the Gray Monoliths, these colossal structures rise majestically to a height of twenty feet (6 meters), their surfaces smooth and cold. Each one is ten feet wide (3 meters), and their dimensions are rectangular, casting long shadows across the vibrant grasslands. On the surface of the towering monolith before me lies a script with the same phrase repeating, intricately carved, and wholly visible to the eyes. Though I cannot decipher its language, I know what it says. Every monolith has the same thing written on it, but each one is written in a different tongue from a diverse array of cultures. As if to ensure whoever came across these stones could understand what was written upon them, regardless of what nation one hails from. The inscription upon stones reads: There is no truth, and there is no falsehood. There are only shades of gray. Even now, I cannot shake the feeling that these words hold a profound significancecryptic wisdom that transcends mere language. The phrase suggests a world of ambiguity, where absolutes crumble under the weight of perspective and perception. I have often pondered the meaning behind these cryptic words and why they were chosen to adorn the monoliths that mark the boundary of the Graylands. Were they intended as a warning? Perhaps a final message left by the Graywalkerssome last piece of wisdom they wished to impart before retreating into their mysterious domain? These monoliths themselves also present an array of perplexing questions. How is it possible for the same phrase to be inscribed on them in multiple languages? What mechanism lies behind the uncanny phenomenon that occurs when one of these gray monoliths is removed from its placeonly for another to seemingly materialize out of thin air when no one is looking? And who, or what, placed them here in the first place? Were they the work of the Graywalkers, or is there something else at play? So many inquiries swirl in my mind, each one adding to the mysteries that surround me. Yet, I am keenly aware that the answers may remain out of reach during this expedition. The Graylands are a realm steeped in secrets, and as I stand before these silent sentinels, I must accept that some truths may evade my grasp, leaving me with more questions than I can possibly hope to answer. As I gazed beyond the imposing monoliths into the depths of the Graylands, I noticed nothing overtly peculiar about the landscape. It appeared as if the vibrant grasslands simply continued their sprawling embrace, stretching endlessly into the distance. Yet, if the accounts I have read hold any truth, there is an unsettling transformation that occurs the farther one ventures from the monoliths. As you distance yourself from these ancient sentinels, the world around you gradually begins to dissolve into an eerie palette of gray, where vibrant colors fade and the very essence of reality seems to blur. The thought of traversing that ambiguous terrain sends a shiver down my spine, igniting a mixture of dread and fascination within me. At present, the team of engineers we brought along is hard at work assembling the machine designed to deploy and reel in the silter cable. The machine itself is an imposing piece of equipment, nearly the size of one of the vehicles we drove in on, its complex array of gears and mechanical parts giving it a hulking, industrial appearance. Thick exhaust pipes protrude from its body, and when activated, it will no doubt bellow out great plumes of black smoke, choking the air with the scent of burning oil and metal. The engineers move with precision and focus, their hands deftly navigating the tangle of machinery, knowing full well that any malfunction in this contraption could spell disaster for the expedition. Once fully assembled, the machine will be securely anchored in place, its massive frame rooted into the ground to prevent any movement. The plan is to split our caravan into two groupsone half will remain behind, tasked with operating the machine and ensuring the cable feeds smoothly as we press onward. The silter cable will be attached to one of our heavy-duty vehicles, and from there, we will begin our journey into the heart of the Graylandsdragging the cable behind us like a lifeline tethered to the outside world. Should we locate what were searching for in this mysterious land, the cable will be our guide, reeling us back toward safety and out of the Graylands'' disorienting grasp. Given that time will become difficult to keep track of within the Graylands, I have instructed the team remaining behind to initiate the reeling process once five days have elapsed. This calculated strategy will provide a semblance of structure amid the chaos, ensuring that we dont accidentally spend too much time there. In the meantime, we will remain here for at least two days, ensuring that both the team and our equipment are fully prepared before we embark on the journey ahead. -5/17/2988- Sam approached me today, once again asking questions about the Graylandsquestions I had already answered long ago. His inquiries were the same tired ones, the kind made by someone searching for reassurance rather than knowledge. Yet, there was something different about Sam this timesomething unsettling in his demeanor. His usual jovialness seemed diminished, replaced by a palpable sense of unease that he could no longer hide. It was fear, plain and simple, bubbling to the surface, despite his earlier attempts to mask it. I suspect Sam had been putting on a brave face, trying to conceal his growing anxiety about the expedition. But now, standing at the very edge of the Graylandswhere the tension was at a highhis unease had become undeniable. I cant say I blame him. The Graylands is not a normal place, and as much as I try to keep a rational mind about this task, I even feel the unease that this land instills. Sam, however, seems more vulnerable to it. Hes been hiding his fear behind hollow questions and nervous laughter, but now that were on the brink of crossing into the unknown, its clear that the facade is beginning to crumble. I offered him what reassurance I could, though I knew that words alone would not calm his nerves. The Graylands test everyone differently, and Sam will have to confront his fears soon enough. Whether he can face them or not remains to be seen, but fear is a dangerous companion in a place like this. Still, I have faith in Sam. A man hailing from good stock will often reveal the nobility of his bloodline under pressure, and I trust that when the time comes, Sam will rise to the occasion. What concerns me more is Tom. The Graylands have a way of unraveling even the sturdiest minds, and I cannot imagine that the strange, shifting nature of this place will have a positive effect on that fools already questionable mental capabilities. I pulled Sam aside and asked him to keep a close watch on Tom during the expedition. I suggested, in no uncertain terms, that it might be wiser to leave Tom behind with the team staying outside the Graylands, where his ineptitude could do less harm. But Sam, ever loyal, pushed back. I could see it in his eyeshe was defending his friend, refusing to entertain the idea that Tom might be a liability to us all. I wish Sam would see reason. His loyalty, though admirable, is misplaced in this instance. Toms presence could become a burden we may not be able to afford once we cross the threshold into the Graylands. The pressure of navigating such a perilous and alien environment requires clear heads and calm resolve, neither of which I can count on from Tom. Yet Sam would not listen, his stubbornness matching my own. I can only hope that his loyalty to Tom does not cloud his judgment in more critical moments. For now, I must trust in Sams ability to keep Tom in check, but a deep sense of unease lingers. If we are not careful, Toms weakness may become a crack in our expeditionone that could widen into a chasm of regret. I fear we may regret the decision not to leave him behind. -5/18/2988- Today, we finally departed into the Graylands. The moment had come, and despite the looming apprehension, everything seemed to be working as intended. The engineers, ever diligent, assured me that the machinery was in perfect working order, with each component thoroughly checked and double-checked. Their confidence gave me a measure of comfort. With a vehicle pulling the silter cable leading our convoy, we ventured cautiously into the Graylands proper. The moment we crossed the threshold marked by the towering monoliths, there was a palpable shift in the aira strange stillness that seemed to cling to us, as if the very land itself were watching. As we traveled deeper into the Graylands, every one of us, myself included, was adorned in the most colorful, flamboyant clothing imaginable. Our group moved like a living rainbow, a myriad of colors. The vehicles, too, were painted similarly, splashed with vibrant hues that seemed absurd. Some of Sams men grumbled about how ridiculous they looked, their pride wounded by the spectacle we made of ourselves. Ill admit, part of me agreedthere was something undeniably comical about our appearance, like a troupe of wandering clowns in a strange land. But this was no act of vanity or frivolity. This was required. I reminded those who complained that the bright colors were a necessity, not a choice. "The Graying is a slow and insidious process," I told them, "and the more we surround ourselves with vivid hues, the better chance we have of delaying its effects." It was better for our clothing and equipment to turn gray than ourselves. These vibrant colors were our defense against the creeping effects of this land from overtaking us. The logic was simple enough: the Graylands would drain the bright color of our clothing first, before ourselves. Why it works this way, I do not know. The fact remained that the colorful clothing and painted vehicles slowed the graying. Even as I spoke to the men, I could see the doubt lingering in their eyes, but none dared voice further objections. They knew as I did. The Graylands had claimed many before us, and if we were to avoid joining them, we needed every advantage we could mustereven if that advantage meant dressing ourselves in the garb of jesters. As we continued our journey across the grasslands, the surrounding landscape looked much the same as the Irioa Grasslands we had left behind. Endless rolling hills of vibrant emerald green stretched out in every direction, blending seamlessly with the clear, cloudless blue skies above. At a glance, it felt as though we hadnt crossed any threshold at all, as if the Graylands were merely an extension of the world we already knew. The air was still, unnervingly so, with no wind to stir the grass. Only the hum of the engines of the vehicles we traveled in pierced the silence. The place was serene, almost unnaturally calm, but that calmness was not comforting. Instead, it wrapped around us like a shroud, lulling the mind into a false sense of peace. There was something insidious in the stillness, something that gnawed at the edges of my awareness. Even as I gazed out at the familiar scenerythe same bright hues of grass, the same vast skiesI couldnt shake the feeling that the world was beginning to slip. And my suspicions were confirmed as we continued our advance. Slowly, I began to notice the subtle change in the surrounding landscape. The once-vibrant green of the grass, so full of life and energy near the Gray Monoliths, had started to dull. What had been a brilliant emerald hue now appeared muted, as though someone had drained the richness from it, leaving it looking washed out. The sky, too, had lost some of its former brilliance. The vivid blue that had once stretched above us like an endless expanse of crystal-clear water now appeared faded, as if the color were being leached from the very fabric of the heavens. It wasnt something that happened all at once; it was gradual, a slow and creeping transformation, as though the Graylands were subtly erasing the vibrancy of the world, one shade at a time. The further we ventured, the more pronounced the effect became. The colors of the surrounding environment, once so bold and full of contrast, now seemed to be fading into one another, blending into a dull palette of grays and muted tones. There was no sharp line marking the shift, no sudden change to signal we had crossed into the heart of the Graylands. It was like we were traveling on a giant gradient from bright colors to various shades of gray. I found myself glancing nervously at the others in the caravan, wondering if they noticed it toothe slow unraveling of the worlds color, the subtle warping of reality around us. Some of the men squinted at the horizon with puzzled expressions on their faces, but no one spoke. Perhaps they were trying to convince themselves it was all in their heads, just a trick of the light or the effects of fatigue. But I knew better. This was no illusion, no mere figment of imagination. This was the Graylands at work. We continued traveling for some time before some of Sam''s men expressed fatigue. We decided to find a place to make camp for the day. -5/19/2988?- A day has passed since we entered the Graylands, at least, I think its been a day? Before we entered the Graylands, as part of an experiment, I made sure to bring two watches and synchronize them perfectly together. But examining them when I woke up, they both had completely different times on them. At least a four-hour difference. I had known this would happen, of course, but witnessing it firsthand was an entirely different experience. The records I have read speak of how keeping track of time in the Graylands was said to be impossible. Mechanical tools were unreliable here, particularly those designed to measure things like time. They would unexpectedly give back bad information or suddenly break down due to some strange influence of the Graylands. Even some of the vehicles in our caravan were not safe from these inexplicable mechanical failures. Engines that had been perfectly functional before we crossed the border into the Graylands now sputtered and choked as Sams men had trouble starting them this morning. The team of engineers we had brought alonga precaution I now realized was more essential than I had initially believedwere busy diagnosing and repairing the problems. They worked diligently, hunching over the machines, their faces etched with concern as they wrestled with malfunctions they couldnt fully explain. I could see that even more unease was beginning to spread among the crew. Some of the men exchanged worried glances as they watched the mechanics work. The vehicles that had once seemed sturdy, built to withstand the harshest environments, now appeared vulnerablesusceptible to forces we do not understand. And as if the mechanical failures werent enough, tracking time in the Graylands proved utterly futile. Days? Hours? It was all meaningless here. At some point during our journey, I realized the sun had vanished entirely from the skyslipped away without any warning. There had been no sunset, no fading light to signal its departure. One moment it was there, and the next, the heavens above us had transformed into a uniform expanse of gray, an endless stretch of dull monochrome that swallowed the horizon. Yet, curiously, despite the absence of the sun, the world around us remained illuminated. It wasnt the soft glow of dusk or the dimness of twilight. It was a strange, pervasive brightness, as though the sky itself had taken on the role of the sun. There were no shadows, no variance in the light. It was as if the Graylands had created their own unsettling version of daylighta flat, artificial illumination that stripped the land of depth and contrast. I couldnt help, but wonder if what we were seeingor, more accurately, not seeingwas the result of some vast illusion. Perhaps the entire Graylands were shrouded in a strange, omnipresent veil that masked the sun from view, hiding it behind an endless curtain of gray. Was this some natural phenomenon, a quirk of the land itself, or was it something entirely else? Whatever the case, the effects were disorienting. Without the sun to mark the passage of time, we were left in a kind of limbo, unsure of how many hours had passed or how many more lay ahead. It was unsettling to think that this was only the beginning. How much stranger would things become the further we ventured into the heart of the Graylands? I will update the journal if anything of interest happens. -2nd Rest- I have resorted to a crude method of tracking our time herecounting the number of times we stop to sleep. It is far from accurate, as the duration of our rest periods has become increasingly difficult to gauge. Without the sun to mark the passage of hours and with our clocks rendered useless, there is no longer any meaningful way to grasp the flow of time. We sleep when we feel the need, wake when we are able, and continue onward, all while the gray sky hangs over us, static and unmoving. I believe that, at the time I am writing this, we are fully In the Graylands now. The further we ventured, the last traces of color drained from the world around us. At first, there had still been faint hints of green in the grass, though muted and washed-out, as if struggling to cling to its former vibrancy. But now, where we stand, all color has vanished entirely. The grass beneath our feet is a uniform shade of gray, blending seamlessly into a rolling hill of grassy gray. It is as though the very essence of life has been leached from the land, leaving behind nothing but a desolate monochrome. It feels as if weve stepped into an old black-and-white film, one of those reels where the world exists only in shades of shadow and light. The effect is uncanny and disorienting. There is no vibrancy left hereno warmthonly an endless, oppressive grayscale that stretches in every direction. The sky, the ground, and even the air itself seem to have adopted this dull, lifeless pallor. With the vibrant colors we wear, we stand out in stark, almost painful contrast against the background of gray. We look like foreign objects in an alien landscape, loud and jarring against the subdued world around us. As if we are a disruption, an anomaly in a place where life has long since surrendered to the slow, creeping decay of time and hue. I cant help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for the vibrant, brightly colored clothing weve donned. Even if the graying wasn''t a threat to us, I suspect that being immersed in this endless expanse of gray would have taken its toll on our minds. There is something profoundly unsettling about the sheer monotony of this landscapean oppressive uniformity that weighs on the soul. Without the bold hues of our caravan breaking the bleakness, I wonder how long it would take for the Graylands to dull not only our surroundings but also our very spirits. Thankfully we didnt have any trouble with the engines of our vehicles and were able to depart right away after we rested. I sincerely hope we find the gray flowers soon and can leave this place behind. Already, I feel as though I''ve had more than my fill of the Graylands. -3nd Rest- Ihad a very strange dream last night. In it, I found myself as a child once more, standing in my Meemaw''s kitchenthe warm, familiar smell of baking filling the air. The old kitchen looked exactly as I remembered itwooden cabinets, the floral-patterned curtains swaying slightly as if from a breeze, though the windows were closed. The warmth of the oven wrapped around me like a comforting blanket, and there she stood, my Meemaw, as real as the day she passed. She greeted me with a smile that seemed to light up the entire roomthe kind of smile only she could give, full of love and understanding. Without a word, she handed me one of her famous oatmeal cookies, still warm, whose scent was a mix of cinnamon and vanilla. I could almost taste the cookie before I bit into itsweet, soft, and perfectly baked, just as I remembered from countless afternoons spent in that kitchen. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Under ordinary circumstances, I would keep such personal musings to myself, but this experience was so peculiar that I felt compelled to document it. I haven''t thought about my meemaw in yearsher memory, though cherished, had receded into the background of my mind, overshadowed by the demands of adulthood and the burdens of the current expedition. Yet, this dream was unlike anything I have ever encountered; it was the most vivid dream I can recall, rich with detail and emotion. When I woke, I found myself grappling with a strange uncertainty. For a brief, disorienting moment, I questioned whether I had actually just been there in that kitchen, experiencing those cherished moments seconds agothat was how real it felt. I couldnt tell if it was a memory, a dream, or something that just happened. But what unsettled me most about this dream was that I experienced it in monochrome. The vibrant colors of my childhood, the warm browns of my meemaw''s kitchen, the golden hues of the sunlight filtering through the windoweverything was stripped away, leaving behind a stark palette of grays. Initially, I harbored concerns that I might already be succumbing to the graying effect of this strange land. However, a glance at my brightly colored tent and the vibrant hues of my clothing offered a moment of reassurance. The bold reds and blues stood in stark contrast to the encroaching grayness that surrounded us, providing a small sanctuary of color amid the desolation. From what I had read, the onset of the graying process typically required a more extended exposure to the Graylands than we had endured thus far. It was said to creep upon a person slowly, like a fog rolling in from the sea, dulling senses and spirits alike. What could this all mean? Is it simply a manifestation of my own psyche, a way to escape the relentless grayness that now surrounds me? Or is it a harbinger of something more sinister? -4th Rest- As the caravan continued its slow, deliberate crawl through the rolling hills of muted gray, I noticed that everyone in the group was scanning the desolate landscape with an intensity that bordered on obsession. Their eyes darted from one stretch of the bleak, colorless grass to another, searching for the elusive prize that had brought us to this forsaken landthe gray flowers. Somewhere, hidden among the uniform monotony of this strange place, these mysterious blooms were said to grow. Their reputation as a rare and powerful alchemical ingredient for life extension was what lured us here, yet we were having no luck. Some of the men had resorted to scanning the bleak horizon through binoculars, their eyes fixed on the endless waves of gray grass in the hope of spotting even the faintest hint of a gray flower. I could sense their growing unease, a quiet desperation tightening its grip on the group. I understood their urgency all too well. The Graylands had a way of unsettling even the strongest of us. My own resolve had been shaken after the vivid, monochrome dream I experienced during our last rest. The lingering memory of it clung to my thoughts, casting a shadow over my every step. Like them, I wanted nothing more than to find the flowers and be done with this place. The moment we discovered even a single bloom, we could make our retreat, following along the silter cable we dragged behind us and out of this place. Sam and I came to a decision earlier todayour next rest would be our last before we begin the journey back out of the Graylands. It was difficult to say exactly how long we had been in this colorless place. Time, like everything else here, seemed to lose its meaning. But, judging by the number of rests we had taken, we could safely assume it had been close to five days. Soon, the crew waiting beyond the Graylands would start the slow process of reeling the silter cable back, whether we had found what we came for or not. The knowledge that time was running out sharpened everyones resolve, especially since failure meant that we''d have to plunge back into this forsaken land once we regrouped. The thought weighed heavily on us all, and I could see it in the faces of the men. They redoubled their efforts, tirelessly scanning the landscape for any sign of the elusive gray flower. Every hill and every patch of grass was scrutinized with heightened desperation as if the flower might be hiding just beyond the next ridge. For all our sakes, I pray someone finds it soon. Ive had my fill of this placeits unnatural stillness, its eerie monochrome, and the strange dreams that linger like a fog in the corners of my mind. Once we escape the Graylands, I hope it will be for the last time. Whatever scholarly curiosity first brought me here had long been satisfied. Now, the only desire that remained was to leave and never return. -5th Rest- Blast it all! No luck, no trace of the gray flowers we came so far to find. We spent the entirety of yesterday travelinghours upon hours across those endless, monotonous hills of gray, each looking the same as the last. For every rise we crested, I hoped we might find somethingsome sign of the flowers hiding in the landscape, or anything elsebut all we encountered was more of the same: barren, gray grassy hills stretching into infinity. As I write this, we are retracing our path, following the silter cable we laid down to guide us out of the Graylands. Judging by the number of times weve restedabout five so farwe estimate it will take another five rests to fully exit this color-drained wasteland. Once were free of these lands, the plan is to return to the nearest town. There, well resupply, rest, and regroup for at least a week or two before even considering another expedition into the Graylands. I had prepared myself mentally for the possibility of multiple trips into this eerie place, knowing the elusive gray flowers might not be found on the first attempt. But now that Ive actually been here and felt the unsettling strangeness that permeates the air, Im far less eager to return. Even so, I cling to the hope that we might stumble upon a gray flower on our way back. Just one. Thats all we need to fulfill our contract with Gibber. Just one flower, and we can escape this bleak landscape without looking back. Perhaps fate will take pity on uson meand deliver this small mercy before we reach the border again. -6th Rest- I hadthat dream againabout my meemaw. Everything unfolded exactly as it had before: the same familiar scene of her baking cookies, the same warm greeting, the same vividness, all experienced in monochrome. But this time, the dream didn''t end as it had previously. Just before I woke, my meemaw turned to me, her face with a warm smile, and asked, "Are you leaving so soon?" There was something off about her voicesomething unsettling. I couldnt respond. The words lodged in my throat as I struggled to answer, but before I could, the dream dissolved, and I awoke in my tent, disoriented and uneasy. That one question echoed in my mind long after Id opened my eyes. It wasnt just the eeriness of the question itself, but the timing. Why now? Why, when were about to leave the Graylands, would this dream take on such a strange twist? Its probably just nerves, a manifestation of the unease Ive been feeling since we crossed into this forsaken place. Yet, I can''t shake the feeling that this dreamthis monochrome memory of my meemawwas a sign of something terrible. -7th Rest- We still hadnt spotted any gray flowers, and last night brought even more trouble. We were all jolted from our sleep by the sharp crack of gunshots. Instantly, everyone scrambled out of their tents, myself included, trying to make sense of the chaos. Sams men, ever-well-trained, quickly fell into defensive positions, surrounding the camp with weapons drawn, ready to fend off whatever threat might be out there. I couldnt fathom whoor whatwould be attacking us. Nothing I knew about the Graylands suggested that there was a dangerous creature here. The thought of some unknown hostile force out there stalking us in this already unsettling land chilled me to the bone. When we finally emerged into the open, the truth of the situation was both a relief and a frustration. The source of the gunfire was none other than one of Sams men, a patrol guard who had been making his rounds while the rest of us slept. He stood there, still clutching his rifle, visibly shaken. He claimed to have seen movement in the distance, just beyond the perimeter of our camp. It was some strange person he saw that had spooked him enough to fire off a few rounds at it. I was on the verge of erupting in rage. My mind raced with horrifying possibilitieswhat if the patrol guard had seen a Graywalker? This was the first sighting in hundreds of years, and this brute had fired blindly at it. I could hardly believe the recklessness of it. To think that such a monumental moment could have been ruined by a trigger-happy fool! As the mercenary elaborated, it became clear that what he had witnessed didnt match any description of a Graywalker. Instead, he spoke of a shadowy figurea "shadow man," as he called itcloaked in darkness, silently stalking the edges of our camp. According to him, the figure didnt respond when he called out, remaining unnervingly still. The figure then raised its arm in a strange, deliberate motion, which the guard took as a provocation. Acting on instinct and fear, he opened fire. However, the accounts of two other guards who had witnessed the entire incident told a different story. They claimed that there had been nothing there at all, nothing tangible to shoot at. They swore that the first guard had been firing at thin air, at shadows that didnt even exist. Everyone stared at the guard who had fired, a tense silence hanging in the air, before someone broke it with a shout. The grayings gotten to him! Hes losing his mind already! The accusation spread quickly through the group, sparking a wave of murmurs and nervous chatter. The guard at the center of it all looked genuinely terrified, his face pale as he shifted under the weight of the accusing stares. Sam, his expression grim and serious, made his way over to me. His stern voice cut through the noise. "Is this what you warned us aboutthe graying?" His question was direct, and I could see the concern in his eyes, mingled with the fear that had begun to creep into all of us. I asked to examine the guard first before I confirmed everyone''s suspicion. I went through the standard physical check of the guard, examining his vitals as best as I could in the strangeness of the Graylands. His temperature reading seemed off, but I couldnt trust the thermometer completely in this bizarre place. What I did notice, however, were the slight tremors in his hands and the bloodshot state of his eyes. Dark bags sagged beneath them, evidence of exhaustion. I asked if he had been getting enough sleep, and after a brief hesitation, he admitted hed been having trouble. There was a nervous edge to his voice, and that immediately caught my attention. Curious, I pressed him about the nature of his dreams. At first, he dismissed them as simply "strange," but I could sense there was more to it. I urged him to explain further, and after a reluctant pause, he opened up. Its always the same dream, he began. Im a kid again, back when I used to go swimming with my family. But, theres something off about it. Its hard to say what exactly, but it leaves me feeling uneasy every time I wake up. I feel like somethings wrong, and I cant figure out what." The way he described the dream struck me. That vague sense of unease, that something familiar, felt out of placehe wasnt the only one feeling it. A chill crept over me as he spoke, and it dawned on me that I might not be the only one experiencing these peculiar dreams. I had brushed off my own dream of my meemaw, but hearing this guard describe his unsettling memory made me wonder if there was more to itsomething connected to this place. The idea that the Graylands might be influencing not just our perceptions, but our very dreams sent a shiver down my spine. As far as I know, there are no records of this particular phenomenonat least none that Ive encountered in all my research. Ill have to compile my own findings, documenting the kinds of dreams people are experiencing once we return to civilization. If nothing else, this strange and unsettling expedition may lead to a significant breakthrough in my field. The psychological effects of the Graylands, particularly how they manifest in dreams, could open up entirely new lines of inquiry. I might be the first to officially record these shared experiences. Though our primary objective was to find the elusive gray flowers, this unforeseen discovery might turn out to be just as important. I wanted to question this guard more at the time, but the arrogant Tom butted in and asked if the guardsmen would be OK. I told everyone that there was nothing to worry about. The man wasn''t suffering from the graying. It was just not getting enough sleep. And of course, that arrogant fool had the nerve to doubt me! He had the audacity to ask if I was sure. I lost my temper right then and there and snapped, Im not a doctor, so no, I dont know for sure! But, I do know enough to tell you its not the graying, you unhuman filth! It was uncultured of me, Ill admit that much, but it felt strangely satisfying to put that half-blood, unhuman mongrel in his place. He didnt even have the decency to respond, just turned and walked away, his tail tucked between his legs. I knew it wasnt the most professional reaction, but after enduring his constant disrespect and insufferable arrogance, I couldnt help but take some small satisfaction in seeing him silenced, even if only for a moment. Sometimes, when you''re faced with that level of ignorance, theres a limit to how much restraint you can muster. Hopefully, this will be the last time Tom will try to interact with me. -8th Rest- That outburst I had at Tom seems to have backfired. When we stopped to rest, I attempted to collect accounts of peoples dreams, hoping to understand the nature of these strange visions and perhaps even uncover some underlying meaning. Those in the caravan, who werent part of the mercenary group, were cooperative enough. However, Sams men were a different story entirely. It was painfully clear that some of the mercenaries were struggling with the same uneasy dreams as I was. The dark circles under their eyes and their sluggish demeanor betrayed their lack of sleep. But when I approached them, they clammed up, denying everything. "I dont know what you''re talking about," or "Im not experiencing any dreams," they saidblatant lies. It was obvious, but no one would admit to it. I couldnt help but connect their sudden refusal to cooperate with my earlier outburst. Everyone had witnessed me berate that unhuman filth, Tom, calling him all manner of names and slinging insults. It had left an impression, one I suspect turned the mercenaries against me. Theyre sticking together, protecting one of their own, no matter how foolish. It seems my inability to hold my tongue may have cost me valuable insight into whats happening to us out here. Such a useless group, I wish I had pushed back harder on taking them with us. However, the lack of cooperation in gathering dream accounts is now the least of my concerns. A more pressing issue has emerged, one that has me deeply unsettled. I hesitate to put it into writing just yet, as Im hoping it will resolve itself. For now, I will refrain from commenting on it further, but if there are no signs of improvement by tomorrow, Ill have no choice but to address the matter directly. -9th Rest- My worst fears from my last entry have been confirmed. When we first ventured into the Graylands, there was a slow but noticeable transition from vibrant colors to the bleak, dismal monochrome that now surrounds us. I had assumed that as we retraced our steps and made our way out, the color would gradually begin to return. It only seemed reasonable that the further we traveled from the heart of this place, the more life would seep back into the landscape. But that hasnt happened. Not even a flicker of color has reappeared in the world around us. Everything remains in complete monochromestill, lifeless, and unnerving. And though it''s difficult to tell under this oppressive gray light, I think some of our clothing and equipment are losing their vibrancy too. What was once a necessary safeguard against graying now seems less effective, as the very essence of color is being drained from us. The cheerful, bright hues we wore as protection have begun to dull. Slowly, and subtlyjust enough to notice if you pay close attention. I dont know what this means, but it''s becoming harder to shake the feeling that we might be in greater danger than I initially anticipated. I think I will keep this information to myself for now, to avoid causing panic in the group. -10th Rest- It took us five rests to plunge deep into the Graylands, so logically, I assumed it would take us the samefive reststo leave. It made perfect sense, at least at the time. But now, another rest period later, everything still looks as gray as ever. Theres been no change, no hint of color returning to the landscape, no sign of the vibrant world we left behind. The same monotonous, oppressive gray surrounds us, and the realization is beginning to sink in: somethings wrong. What is happening? Are we somehow moving slower on our way out? Are the Graylands warping our perspective? I cant say for certain, but the thoughts gnaw at me. Thankfully, no one else seems to have noticed the predicament were in, or if they have, theyre keeping it to themselves. Sam and Tom, for their part, havent been speaking to me, which is something of a relief. Im not sure how much longer I can keep my own unease hidden, and the last thing I need is their doubts or questions adding to the pressure. But how long can this continue before someoneperhaps even Icracks? -11th Rest- I''m growing increasingly concerned about the mercenaries we brought along. They''ve started giving me strange, unsettling looks, and I no longer feel secure in their presence. They were hired to protect us, and their payment is directly tied to my safety. But as the mind-eroding effects of this land begin to seep into us all, I fear they may be the most vulnerable. These kinds of menhardened by violence and accustomed to powerare prone to acting out in violence. And, of course, theyre the ones carrying the most firepower. Weve already witnessed one of them fired his weapon at nothing, a clear sign that their mental state is fraying. My concerns about Tom have deepened as well. I''ve kept an extra close eye on him, certain that if anyone is going to snap and turn violent, it will be him. His inferior blood makes him the weakest link in this group. Sam may trust him, but I know better. Its only a matter of time before the Graylands drive him over the edge. I find myself praying that were close to leaving this cursed place. Ive made the decision that, once were out of here, Ill abandon my contract with Gibber. I dont care if I return empty-handed. No amount of money or academic interest is worth coming back here. This land has a way of twisting reality, of making you doubt your own senses, and Ive had enough. Once were free of the Graylands, I will never return. -12th Rest- People are beginning to notice. The uneasy whispers have started spreading through the caravan. Some of them have realized what Ive been dreadingby now, we shouldve already emerged from the Graylands. The realization hung over us like a heavy fog, and it was only made worse by the sight of our equipment slowly turning gray. The once-vibrant colors of our vehicles, clothing, and gear are fading, piece by piece, inch by inch. It''s an undeniable sign that the graying is creeping closer. If we dont escape soon, it wont just be the equipment that succumbs to this dreadful change. Ive tried to keep those fears at bay, but they''re becoming harder to ignore. If the graying starts affecting us physicallyour bodies, our very selvesI dont want to imagine what will happen. Im not even sure if well remain the same people once that process starts. The Graylands have already taken a toll on our minds. I can feel it in myself, and I can see it in the others. Were unraveling, fraying at the edges like a well-worn rope, and the longer we remain in this place, the harder it becomes to hold on to reason, to sanity. Once the graying takes hold of us, if it does, I fear there wont be much of our minds left to save. Well be hollowed out, shadows of who we once were. Whatever misgivings Tom and Sam had with me, they set aside for now. They both approached me, their faces grim and voices low, asking the question Id been dreadingwhy hadnt we left the Graylands yet? I didnt have an answer. I could feel their eyes boring into me, demanding some kind of explanation. Desperation hung between us, but I couldnt admit that I was just as lost as they were. So, I came up with an excuse, one that seemed plausible enough: since the Graylands interfere with our equipment, perhaps were moving slower on our way out than we did on our way in. Its possible, I reasoned aloud, that without reliable readings, we cant accurately gauge our speed. To my relief, they seemed to accept it. They werent entirely convincedI could see doubt lingering in their eyesbut they nodded and moved on. Sam and Tom started discussing how we could speed up our departure. They decided to lighten the load, dumping some of the supplies we no longer needed, so the caravan could move faster. It was a gamble, but at this point, any idea that promised even the slightest chance of escape was worth pursuing. I know its just a guess, a desperate attempt to maintain some semblance of control. But I hope this increase in our pace makes a difference. -13th Rest- By the light! I was right, though how I wish I had been wrong. I had suspected that the mercenaries would be the most volatile members of our group, and this morning, my fears were confirmed in the worst possible way. It started like any other rest, with everyone going through the motions, packing up our camp, and preparing for another grueling leg of our journey out of this forsaken place. But the fragile calm shattered when one of Sams men suddenly let out a blood-curdling scream, yelling about some "evil shadow" stalking him. Before anyone could react, the man wildly fired his weapon into the air, then toward the camp. The crack of gunfire echoed across the empty, gray hills, sending a wave of panic through the group. The chaos that followed was pure madness. The bullet struck one of his comrades, piercing his shoulder, and the injured man crumpled to the ground, writhing in pain. In the confusion, everyone scrambled, not knowing whether we were under attack by something realor whether this was yet another cruel trick of the Graylands. Sams remaining men reacted swiftly. With grim determination, they opened fire on the panicking man. The look in his eyes was wild and terrified as if he truly believed some dark presence was haunting him. It was as if the Graylands had finally sunk its claws deep into his mind, twisting reality until he could no longer distinguish it from a nightmare for a brief moment before his life was snuffed out by a barrage of bullets. The others put down their own quickly and without ceremony. There was no mercy in their actions, only the cold necessity of survival. Sam looked pale but resolute, his face a mask of determination. He gave a quick order to have the wounded man treated, but the damage had already been done. I could see it in everyones facesthe fear, the uncertainty. The Graylands were eating away at us. It was the first time I had ever witnessed a man die before my eyes, and the experience was nothing short of harrowing. The weight of it sat heavily in my chest, a grotesque knot of shock and disbelief. Yet, to my amazement, the mercenariesthose hardened menpicked themselves up and went back to their duties as if the grim event hadnt occurred at all. One of their own had been put down like a rabid animal, and still, they continued their work without a word, moving with a cold efficiency that felt almost inhuman. At first glance, I found their indifference disturbing. How could they remain so composed after something so horrific? How could they return to their routines with such detachment? But when I looked more closely, I realized the truth was far more complex. Under the stoic expressions, something was simmering. Their faces, though hard, betrayed the slightest flickers of tensionjawlines clenched a bit too tightly, eyes darting nervously when they thought no one was watching. They were troubled. They had to be. It was clear now that they were hiding their fear, burying it deep under layers of training and discipline, but it was there. Sam approached me and asked if this was the effect of the graying. I explained that the graying typically didnt manifest in the form of sudden panic or violent outbursts like we had just witnessed. Its effects were usually more subtle, leading to emotional detachment and an eerie numbness as the afflicted slowly disconnected from their surroundings. However, I also acknowledged that we couldnt rule out the possibility that it might affect different individuals in varying ways. I pointed out that the mans skin had shown no visible signs of turning gray yet. If the graying had begun to take hold of him, it was in its earliest stages, barely perceptible. Still, I couldnt ignore the fact that something was terribly wrong. Whether it was the graying or the psychological strain of being in this forsaken land, I couldnt say for certain. But if the panic overtook the caravan, the chance of escape would evaporate. Sam agreed. We both decided to try to placate everyone and keep people calm. Sam would handle his men and placate everyone else. I hope Sam can keep his men under control. I noticed Tom was giving me strange looks while I was talking to Sam. Im worried about him. -14th Rest- We had now rested fourteen times since entering the Graylands. If each rest roughly equated to a day, then we had been wandering through this strange land for nearly two weeks. The thought filled me with unease. If this timeline were correct, it meant something had gone terribly wrong with the team I left outside the Graylands. As we journeyed back, we followed the cable that we had laid behind us, a lifeline meant to guide us out of this place. It had been our one constant amidst the changing, gray landscape. But as we set up camp once again, I took a closer look at the cable, and a deep sense of dread set in. I distinctly remember instructing the outside team to begin reeling in the cable slowly after five days. They should have started by now. Yet, as I examined the cable, I realized with a growing alarm that it wasnt moving at all. It lay completely still as if the team outside had abandoned their task orworseforgotten us entirely. That simple observation sent a chill down my spine. What could have caused such a failure? Has something happened to the team on the outside? Or, more horrifyingly, had we somehow become disconnected from them? If the cable had been severed somewhere, then we were adrift in the Graylands with no guarantee of finding our way out. Tom had been giving me odd, lingering stares, and each one made my skin crawl. I knew the Graylands were eroding his mind, just as they were gnawing away at everyone else in the caravan. But with Tom, it felt differentmore personal. There was a tension between us that had been simmering long before we entered this accursed place, and I could sense that it was beginning to reach a boiling point. I had exposed the truth about his inferior bloodline, something he had no doubt been stewing over since the moment the words left my mouth. That sort of insult, one that cut deep into a mans very identity, wasnt easily forgotten. And now, in this land where reality seemed to warp and fray at the edges, I feared that Tom''s resentment was festering into something dangerous. His eyes, sharp and accusatory, would follow me during our stops, and I couldnt shake the feeling that he was planning somethingwaiting for the right moment to act. Dangerous situations like this have an uncanny way of amplifying the worst parts of a persons nature. Tom, though, was different. His anger wasnt a product of fear or hallucinations. No, it was rooted in a much older grudge, and I suspected that the Graylands were only fueling it further. I had to stay vigilant. Toms pride had been wounded, and wounded pride could make men irrational, even violent. I knew his kindhalf-blood, full of resentment and rage, always looking for someone to blame for their inadequacies. And now, with the Graylands chipping away at whatever mental fortitude he had left, I feared he might decide that I was the one responsible for his suffering. He was planning something. I could feel it in every glance he threw my way. He might be planning to take me out like they did with the panic man before. If thats the case maybe I need to get to him firNo! What am I saying? FOCUS JIN! Dont let your rational mind slip away like those brutes. You are better than them. I will not succumb to base violence like them. I will keep an eye on Tom, but I will not be reduced to their level. On my name, Jin von wait? My name is not Jin. Its Robert Evans. Howdid I mix up my own name? -???- III should be dead? I dont understand whats going on anymore. T-To start from the beginning, we continued traveling as we always had, through the bleakness of the Graylands. We stopped to rest, as was our routine, but this time was different. Tension hung in the air like a thick fog. The entire time, I kept my eyes on Tom. I was certain that if anyone were to snap and have a sudden violent outburst, it would be him. Every suspicious glance he cast my way made my skin prickle with anticipation. I was so sure that it would be himTom, with his festering grudge and eroding mind. But, to my shock, it wasnt Tom who lost control. It was Sam. It happened without warning. One moment, we were setting up camp like usual, everyone weary but maintaining some semblance of order. Next, Sams voice ripped through the silence, screaming about monsters. His face was twisted in sheer terror, his eyes wide and unseeing, as though some unspeakable horror had gripped him from the shadows. Before anyone could even react, Sam raised his weapon and began firing wildly into the caravan. Bullets flew, ripping through tents. The caravan was thrown into chaos as everyone scrambled for cover, shouting and diving to the ground, trying to make sense of what was happening. The look on Sams face... it was as though he was seeing something that the rest of us couldn''ta monster, a nightmare, something born of this cursed land. He screamed again, louder this time, his voice cracking with hysteria as he spun around, searching for the imaginary foe. "They''re everywhere! Monsters! Can''t you see them?! They''re here!" he would scream. His gunshots were wild and erratic, but they found their marks in human flesh. The first to fall was one of the caravan members, a young man, crumpling to the ground in a heap. Blood sprayed across the gray earth. To Tom''s credit, he acted swiftly. Before anyone else could process the chaos, he lunged at Sam, tackling him to the ground. Amidst the screaming and confusion, Tom wrestled with him, trying to pin him down, while others scrambled to help. Sam fought back with the wild strength of someone completely unhinged, thrashing, and yelling about monsters that only he could see. In the struggle, a shot went off. I had been hit in my head. Ifeltit. I felt the bullet pierce my skull and into my brain with a quick, sharp, agonizing amount of pain, and then nothing. That was death or a dream? NoBut it felt so real. WhenI woke, I found myself lying on the cold, gray earth of the Graylands, utterly alone. There was no Sam, no Tom, no mercenaries, and no caravan in sight. I felt disoriented, my thoughts muddled by the lingering pain from the gunshot. I instinctively reached for my head, somehow expecting to find a gunshot wound, but there was nothing. There was no blood, no bandagesnothing to suggest that I had been shot at all. But strangely, everything I had on me before the incident was still there. My journal was tucked safely in my pack, along with my notes and supplies. The pen Id used to record our journey was still clipped to my shirt. It was as though I had simply... woke up here. Im still not sure whats happening anymore. Im writing this down in an attempt to make sense of my thoughts, and to find some clarity in the chaos, but the more I write, the more confused I become. Everything feels disjointed as if the reality I knew has started to unravel. Ive tried piecing together the eventshow I woke up, how the others vanished without a tracebut nothing adds up. Was it real? Was I truly shot, or was that some kind of hallucination, another cruel trick played by this place? But, one thing is for sure: Im now alone. -16th Rest- Ivecontinued to date these entries based on the number of rests Ive taken, though I cant say how accurate that is anymore. Time has become a vague concept, lost in this endless gray, but I need some sense of order, some way to measure my days, however false it may be. After the distress I experienced during my last entry, Ive come to the grim conclusion I wont be able to make sense of it all. Not of the disappearance of the caravan, not of Sams madness, nor ofmy death. But, Im still breathing. Im still writing, which means, for now, Im alive. That has to count for something. I managed to pull myself together, forcing myself up from the dust and confusion, knowing that if I wanted to survive, I couldnt just sit here waiting for death to claim me. If theres any hope of escaping the Graylands, I have to keep moving. Ive been wandering aimlessly, with no sense of direction, no landmarks to guide me, just the hope that somewhereif I keep walkingIll find the border. The cursed land cant stretch on forever, can it? I keep telling myself that theres an edge to this forsaken place, a point where the color will return, and Ill know Ive escaped. But, with no cable to follow and no markers to gauge my progress, I fear I may be walking in circles, endlessly looping through this monochrome landscape. When I awoke after being shot, I still had my rucksack, thankfully. Inside, Ive got a tent and a few essential supplies. So after walking to the point of near collapse, I can at least set up a small camp, rest for a few hours, and regain enough strength to continue. The problem is, Im running out of time. I have enough food to last maybe two or three days if I ration it carefully. After that, starvation will become a very real threat. But, I suspect that lack of food wont be the thing that kills me. What concerns me more is the graying. My clothing, my supplieseverything has slowly turned gray. My shirt is dull and colorless, my boots and tent are losing their vibrancy, and I know that soon enough, the graying will set in on me too. Ive read about the signs. First the external, then it spreads inward, creeping into the mind. And when it does, when it takes hold, Ill lose myself completely. Ive been praying to the Light, hoping that Im close to the border and that salvation is just over the next hill or beyond the next stretch of gray. But theres no way to know. I have no compass, no map. The land looks the same in every directionbleak, lifeless, a landscape that offers no clues, no mercy. Still, I walk. Every step takes more effort than the last, but I push forward, telling myself that survival is still possible. That Ill find a way out. -17th Rest- I had the dream with my meemaw again. At least, I think it was a dream? Its becoming harder and harder to tell the difference between sleep and waking anymore. The lines between them are blurring. In this dream, my meemaw looked at me with concern, the way she always did when I was a child. She said I looked tiredso tiredand she told me to stay and rest. Her voice was so gentle and comforting, and I wanted nothing more than to obey, to lay down and close my eyes, to let the weight of exhaustion melt away. I could feel the pullthe temptation to stay with her, to rest as she urged. But then, as before, the dream ended abruptly, like a door slamming shut. I woke up in the same dismal, gray world as before, the same lifeless landscape stretching endlessly before me. Everything I have on me now is completely graymy clothes, my rucksack, even the tent I carry. The transformation happened gradually, and now theres no denying it. But whats worsewhen I lifted my shirt today to check myself, I saw it. A small patch of gray skin on my side. Its not much yet, just a spot about the size of a coin, but I know what it means. Its spreading, and once it starts, theres no stopping it unless you leave the Graylands. Soon, it will spread further, inch by inch, until it claims my whole body. And then my mind, if it hasn''t already. I can feel that detachment already setting ina dullness in my thoughts, a fog settling over my mind. I try to push it away, to stay focused on survival, but its harder with each passing hour. The exhaustion isnt just physical anymoreits in my soul. I dont know how much time I have left. The patch of gray skin is a countdown, a silent reminder that my daysor maybe hoursare numbered. I have to find the edge of this place soon, before its too late. -18th Rest- There is no truth, and there is no falsehood. There are only shades of gray. I think Im beginning to understand the meaning of those words. I keep having dreams about my childhoodbright, happy memories from a time when the world was full of warmth. The laughter of friends, the sound of running through fields, and the sun shining overhead. But each time I wake, I feel a pang of confusion, wondering if those moments were ever real at all. I cant tell anymore if those dreams of my past are actual memories, or if this gray, endless landscape is the true reality. Or maybe maybe this is the dreama nightmare I cant wake from. The lines between the two have blurred so much that I no longer know which world is real. The dreams are so vivid, so full of life, that for fleeting moments, I can almost believe Im back there, living in those memories. But when I wake to the desolate hills and cold, monochrome sky, the contrast is unbearable. I know exactly what this is. Im experiencing a dissociative disorder caused by the graying. My mind is slowly unraveling, losing touch with reality, and detaching from everything that once felt solid and true. The lines between whats real and whats imagined are becoming impossible to distinguish, and I fear Im slipping further with each passing rest. More patches of gray have spread across my body, creeping along my skin like a slow, inevitable decay. At this rate, I can only assume that as more of me succumbs to the graying, these dissociative episodes will only worsen. -19th Rest- I stumbled upon a lake? At first, I thought it might be another symptom of the grayingmaybe a hallucination brought on by dehydration or my unraveling mindbut hallucinations arent typically part of the graying process, or at least theyve never been recorded. So, this has to be real. Yet, Im deeply unsettled by it. The few who ventured into the Graylands before me never mentioned a lake, only endless stretches of gray grasslands and rolling hills. Nothing even remotely like this. The lake is vast, its gray waters stretching far enough that I could barely make out the opposite shore from where I stood. Its gray water slowly rippled. The entire area around the lake was surrounded by large clusters of gray flowersthe very thing we had been searching for all this time. It was the first time I had ever seen one in persona gray flower. Up close, it looked eerily similar to a rose, though entirely stripped of its natural beauty. There were no thorns, no vibrant huesjust an unsettling palette of dull, lifeless grays, as if all the color had been drained away, leaving behind only the ghost of what it once was. The petals seemed fragile, almost brittle, yet perfectly intact. It was both haunting and mesmerizing, a symbol of everything the Graylands representedbeauty twisted into something hollow. I wasted no time and pocketed as many flowers as I could, though I could hardly feel any sense of victory in finding them now, not after everything. I also filled my canteen with the lakes water. Im not exactly thrilled about the prospect of drinking itI imagined it would be tainted just by being herebut Im running dangerously low on supplies. Without this, I wont last much longer. At least now, with the water, I should be able to last a little longer than I first expected. But still, the lakes presence gnaws at me. Why hasnt it ever been mentioned? Is it truly real, or just another sign that Im slipping further into the gray? Ill set up camp near it and then continue my journey on my next waking. I have no other choice. -20th Rest- Maybe hallucinations are part of the graying? When I awoke, the lake had vanishedgone as if it had never existed. I hadnt moved. I was still in the same place, yet there was no trace of water, no shoreline, nothing but the endless expanse of gray hills stretching out before me. Lakes dont just disappear. The rational part of my mind screamed that it must have been an illusion, a hallucination conjured up by the graying. Thats the only explanation that made sense. But then, I looked down at my canteen, which was filled to the brim with water. And my pocketsbulging with the gray flowers I had carefully gathered by the lakes edge. Those things were real. I collected them with my own hands. So if the lake wasnt real, how did I get this water? How did I pluck those flowers? Where did the lake go? If it was all in my head, then what parts of my reality can I even trust anymore? -21th Rest- I pressed on, trudging through this seemingly endless expanse of gray. The graying continued its slow, creeping advance over my body. More of my skin had turned a dull, lifeless gray, a transformation both fascinating and horrifying. What struck me most about the graying was the absence of pain. No sharp stings, no dull achesjust the eerie, silent change of my flesh shifting from its natural color to this soulless hue. Its as if my body is betraying me without warning, an insidious transformation that could easily go unnoticed if it werent for the unsettling psychological toll. Its terrifying how subtle the graying is. It doesn''t scream or claw its way through you; it quietly takes over. -24th Rest?- Ive neglected these journal entries for the last few rests, a mistake I cant afford. This journal is my only means of keeping track of time, my only tether to some semblance of reality. Now, Im no longer sure how much time has passed. Has it been three rests? More? Less? The uncertainty gnaws at me. This lapse is either my own failingan oversight born of exhaustionor, worse, the graying slowly chipping away at my mind. I can feel it creeping in, clouding my thoughts and making it harder to hold on to anything concrete. The confusion is starting to blur not just the world around me, but my sense of time, of self. This journal, once my anchor, is slipping from my grasp, and I fear what will happen if I lose track of it completely. Ive decided that once I stop to set up camp again, Ill go through my journal carefully, page by page. I need to reground myself, to piece together whats been happeningboth in this place and in my mind. These entries may be fragmented, but they are the only record of my thoughts and experiences, the only way to hold on to who I am before the graying takes everything. The words Ive written might help me make sense of thingsa reminder that there was a time when I could think clearly when I knew what was real and what was not. If nothing else, perhaps theyll help me remember that this nightmare has a start... and, I hope, an end. -25th Rest?- WHAT IS HAPPENING!?!?!? I went through my journal and months of entries are gone!?!? The entries in my journalmy only anchorsuddenly stop in the middle of my thoughts. No conclusion, no clarity, just a jarring halt. Then, as if nothing happened, they continue from when I first departed towards the border of the Graylands. But between those entries are random symbols, scrawled haphazardly across the pages, symbols I dont recognize or remember writing. Did I rip pages out of my journal? Did I scribble these strange marks in a haze of madness? The thought of it chills me. Now even the words Ive written, the one thing I trusted to stay uncorrupted, are no longer safe from this nightmare that''s overtaking me. I must find a way out. Now. Before I lose everything. Before I lose myself. -30th Rest?- I believe five rests have passedthough, at this point, who can say for certain? I''ve stopped recording my experience for a while, unsettled by the strange symbols and erratic scrawling that have appeared in my notes. But I feel compelled to document this now before it''s too late. This may very well be my final entry. As I continued my aimless wandering through the endless gray, I encountered them againthe shadow men. The same ones that likely caused the mercenaries to panic before. They follow me now, always lingering just beyond my full view, always hovering at the edge of my vision. These shadowy figures have two dull gray dots for their eyes. At first, their presence filled me with terror, but now... I dont care anymore. They simply watch. Silently. As if waiting for something. My body has nearly succumbed to the graying. Only a small patch of skin remains untouched on my forearm, but I know that by the next time I wake, it will have turned too, completing the process. After that... well, I suspect I''ll simply lie down and die. There''s nothing left to fight for. If, by some slim chance, someone finds this journal, heed these words: turn back. There is no treasure here, no glory, no opportunity. There is only gray here. -???- How long have I wandered these gray hills? Days? Months? Years? Time is meaningless here, a forgotten concept swallowed by the endless gray. I know I once declared that my last entry would truly be the final one, that I would simply lie down and let death take me. But that moment never came. I didnt die. Instead, I kept walking, aimlessly drifting through this colorless wasteland. But why? Was I still trying to escape? Then, I found my corpse. Lying there on the ground. One would think I should feel horror, seeing my own body sprawled across the field, a bullet lodged in my skull. But in this place, nothing makes sense. Horror has no place here. It was my bodyunmistakably mine. With a face full of terror. But am I the real one? Or is that lifeless shell the true me, and I am just a copy? A clone? I remember now. I never wrote about what happened before... Perhaps I am too far gone to care. While wandering the Graylands, there came a point when the weight of it allthe isolation, the endless walking, the gray gnawing at my mindbecame unbearable. Sam had given me a gun for protection, though it offered little comfort in this land. I remember raising it to my own head and pulling the trigger. The crack of the gun echoed across the hills, and I felt the bullet enter my skull. I thought that was the end of my torment. But I didnt die. I woke up again, just as before, whole and unharmed. It was as if nothing had happened. I was trapped in this endless cycle. And so I kept wandering, kept pushing forward until starvation claimed me. But even then, I didnt die. I collapsed, weak and empty, but woke again, revived as if nothing had ever happened. I dont know if I can die in this place. Or maybe Im already dead. Is this the place of darkness that the church speaks of? The burning abyss where souls are trapped forever, wandering in their sins and regrets? Whatever this place is, there is no escape from it. There is no peace. Only gray. -???- I finally came face-to-face with the shadow menthe ones that had been trailing me ever since my transformation was complete, my entire body now fully consumed by the gray. At first, I thought they were just hallucinations, fragments of my deteriorating mind brought on by the graying. But in this cursed place, who can truly say what''s real anymore? They didn''t speak or move with purpose. They simply stood at a distance, watching. Silent, featureless figures with only those two gray dots for eyes, always observing. One of them came closer todayso close I could almost reach out and touch it. Yet, even then, it did nothing. It just loomed near me, quiet as ever. I thought, perhaps, they were waiting for somethingwaiting for me to complete my transformation, to fully succumb to the gray. But that wasn''t it. Even though Im entirely gray now, they still do nothing but watch. I tried reaching out to it, just to see if it was truly there, but the moment my hand neared, it recoiled like a shadow fleeing from the light. Maybe these beings arent just figments of my imagination after all. Maybe they''re my jailers, sent to make sure I never leave this place. To monitor my torment and see that I remain trapped in this endless purgatory. They do nothing, say nothing, but their presence is constant. It doesn''t matter if they''re real or not, though. None of it matters anymore. Im so tired. More tired than Ive ever been. The idea of resttrue restfeels like a distant memory, something just out of reach. All I want is to fall asleep and stay there. To never wake again. To dream about my childhood, about my meemaw and those simple, happy days, where life still made sense. I want to drift back to that place, to stay with her forever, and never have to wake up to this gray, meaningless existence again. -???- In my endless wandering through this bleak, colorless wasteland, Ive had more time to reflect on my life than I ever wanted. Theres nothing out here to distract from the gnawing thoughts that circle in my mind. And in that reflection, Ive realized somethingI was unfair to Tom. More than unfair, really. I was cruel. I treated him with disdain, judged him for something as arbitrary as his bloodline, and held onto my superiority like a shield against my own insecurities. I see that now. All my arrogance, my outbursts, they were born from fearfear of the other. I took it out on him, an easy target, because he wasnt like me, he was a mutant. That difference, in my mind, somehow made him lesser. But it didnt. It never did. If I could go back, I would apologize to him. I would tell him I was wrong. But time, like everything else, seems meaningless in this cursed place. Tom is probably long gonemaybe he escaped, or maybe hes wondering these same gray hills, trapped in his own torment. On the off chance he stumbles upon one of my corpses, lying in the dirt with this journal by its side, I hope he reads these words. Tom, if you ever find this, Im sorry. Truly. I was wrong about you. You didnt deserve the way I treated you, and I hope you made it out of here. I hope youre free, wherever you are. Maybe theres still a chance for redemption in this hellish place, even if its just a sliver of human decency left behind in the form of a few written words. Maybe thats all I can offer in the endan acknowledgment of my faults, my regrets, and the hope that somehow, in the endless gray, it means something. Maybe thats all I have left to give. -???- ??????????????????? ???????? ?????? ???????????????????????? ??????????? ???????????????????? ???????? ?????? ?????????????????????????????????????? ???????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ???????????????????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????????? ???????? ?????? ???????????????????????? ??????????? ???????????????????? ???????? ?????? ?????????????????????????????????????? ???????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ???????????????????????? ??????? ???????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ???????????????????? ????????????? ???????????????????????????? ??????? ???????????? ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ???????????????????? ????????????? ???????????????????????????? ??????? ???????????? ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ???????????????????? ????????????? ???????????????????????????? ??????? ???????????? ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ???????????????????? ????????????? ???????????????????????????? ??????? ???????????? ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ???????????????????? ????????????? ???????????????????????????? ??????? ???????????? ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ??????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ???????????????????? ????????????? ???????????????????????????? ??????? ???????????? ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ?????????????????? ???? ???????????????????? ???????????? ?????????? ??????? ?????????????????????????????????????? ???????? ?????? ???????????????????????? ??????????? ???????????????????? ???????? ?????? ?????????????????????????????????????? ???????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ???????????????????????? ??????? ????????????????????? ?????????????????? ???????? ?????? ???????????????????????? ??????????? ???????????????????? ???????? ?????? ?????????????????????????????????????? ???????????????????? ???????????? ????????????? ???????????????????????? ??????? ????????????????????? -???- I dreamt of my meemaw again, but this time it was differentdifferent from all the countless other times shes appeared in my dreams. This time, she said, goodbye. It was the first time the dream had ever ended with her saying that. Normally, my dreams of her are comforting, and repetitive, a small but welcome reprieve from the Graylands. But when the dream shifts like that, when it deviates from its familiar course, something always happens in the waking world. At least, thats how it was before. But this was a while ago, and since then... nothing. Nothing has changed. I still wander these cursed lands, trudging through this endless sea of gray with no end in sight. I keep moving forward, hoping for somethinganythingthat might signal a way out, but all I find is more of the same desolate landscape. I suppose the only real change is that I no longer even have the small comfort of my grandmothers dreams to offer me respite. The one solace I had, has been taken away. Now, I dont even get to dream. I just wake up to the same relentless, suffocating gray, without even the illusion of warmth or familiarity to keep me going. It feels like a final severing of something I hadnt realized Id been holding on to. That goodbye feels more horrible than it should have been. -5/18/2988?- II cant believe Imwritingthis. I escaped!!!!!! I cannot adequately describe the overwhelming sensation of seeing color again after so longany color other than the endless, soul-draining gray. The first hint of it was a subtle shift in the grassy hills before me, a flicker of green. At first, I thought it was just another trick of my mind, another hallucination brought on by the graying. But all the illusions Id endured until now had been in shades of gray, never vibrant hues like this. Green. Actual green. I didnt even stop to think. I ranran faster than I thought possible, fueled by a desperate hope that I hadnt felt in what seemed like an eternity. As I bolted forward, the world around me responded. The hills that had once been bleak and lifeless burst into vibrant color, like a canvas suddenly painted with the greens of lush grass. Above me, the sky shifted from its dull, oppressive gray to a deep, endless blue. It was as though life itself had returned, breathing back into the world that had been suffocating me for so long. I reached the top of one of the large grassy hills, panting, heart pounding in my chest, and thats when I saw themthe gray monoliths in the distance. Those tall, towering markers that separated the Graylands from the world beyond. They loomed on the horizon, silent but unmistakable. A gateway to freedom. My pulse quickened, and I ran harder, my legs burning with every stride, but I didnt care. I had to reach them. I had to cross that border and leave this nightmare behind. With every step, the surrounding colors intensified, filling me with a sense of purpose I hadnt felt in ages. I wasnt going to stop now, not when I was so close to escaping this hellish place. The monoliths were my salvation, and I was going to reach themno matter what it took. It only dawned on me now, as I write this, how strange it was that I could leave the Graylands so quickly. When we first entered, it took what felt like days before we even noticed the subtle, creeping shift from color to that relentless gray. It was a slow, almost imperceptible descent into that bleak world, but my escape? It happened in a matter of minutesa frantic sprint, and suddenly, I was free. I shouldve found that odd, unsettling even, but I didn''t stop to question it then. I was too consumed by the euphoria of seeing color again, too desperate to escape the nightmarish grasp of that land. Now, though, as I sit here trying to piece everything together, the swiftness of my departure feels... wrong. How could the transition happen so fast? Still, whats the point of trying to make sense of that accursed place? The moment I crossed those monoliths, my legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the vibrant, sunlit ground. I couldnt help myselfI rolled across the grass like a madman, clutching handfuls of it, desperate to soak in every hue that the Graylands had denied me for what felt like an eternity. The lush green beneath me, the golden warmth of the sun, the endless blue skyall of it overwhelmed my senses. It was as though I had forgotten what the world truly looked like, what it felt like to see real color. Im not sure how long I laid there, completely overwhelmed by the colors and sensations I had been starved of for so long. Minutes? Hours? Time had lost all meaning to me back in the Graylands, and it still felt slippery now. Eventually, though, I forced myself to sit up, then stand, though my legs wobbled beneath me, weak from both exhaustion and disbelief. As I stood, I took a moment to drink in my surroundings. The familiar landscape of rolling hills, now fully vibrant and alive, stretched out before me. And then, off in the distance, something caught my eyesomething that made my heart skip a beat. I could see it clearlya small encampment, nestled among the hills. The encampment. The one we had set up just before entering the Graylands. As soon as I spotted the encampment, my body moved on instinct. I sprinted toward it with haste. As I approached the encampment, I was met with looks of shock and horror. The people who had once known me now recoiled as if I were some kind of apparition. The mercenaries, ever on edge, quickly raised their weapons, aiming them at me with suspicion and fear. Some shouted, calling me a ghost. I hadn''t considered at the time how terrifying my appearance must have been. My skin, my clothes, my geareverything was drained of color, a uniform gray, like I had been pulled straight from the very land they feared. Only now, in retrospect, do I fully understand their reaction. I was the embodiment of the Graylands, a walking nightmare that had suddenly appeared before them. I spent what felt like an eternity trying to convince them that it was truly meRobert Evan. My voice cracked as I pleaded, desperately explaining who I was, repeating details only I would know, recounting memories, names. Eventually, after minutes of tense standoff, they began to lower their weapons. Their eyes were still filled with doubt, but they believed me enough to stop pointing guns at my chest. Once they accepted it was me, I started recounting what had happenedhow I had wandered the Graylands for what felt like days, possibly even weeks, lost in that gray wasteland, trapped in a waking nightmare. But as I spoke, I noticed their expressions shift again, not to understanding, but to confusion. Then came the words that sent a chill down my spine. One of the mercenaries, still eyeing me warily, said, You only left two hours ago. How can you claim to have been in there for weeks? The world seemed to tilt beneath me when I heard that. Two hours? How could that be possible? I had felt time stretch out endlessly, had experienced countless days of exhaustion, fear, and survival. My mind reeled. The first pangs of true fear I have felt in a while since tuning completely gray washed over me. I expected my perception of time to be distorted in the Graylands, but to this extent? Could it really have been only two hours? The idea gnawed at my mind. Had my own sense of time stretched and warped so much, or was it something far more sinister? Was it merely my perception that was fractured, or had time itself bent and twisted in that accursed place? I stood there, speechless, as the weight of those two words"two hours"crushed me under their impossible reality. I shook off the confusion surrounding my explanation of time in the Graylands and forced myself to focus. There was no time to dwell on the bizarre nature of my experienceothers had ventured into that cursed place with me. I wasnt the only one trapped in that gray wasteland. My mind snapped back to the silter cable machine, the lifeline we had used to guide us in and, hopefully, back out. Then I turned to the others, urgency rising in my voice as I demanded they activate the machine. I couldn''t bear the thought of leaving those people to aimlessly wander the endless gray, as I had. They needed a chance to return. They needed to escape that nightmare, just like I had. I wouldn''t let anyone else be lost to the Graylands. They followed my command without hesitation. The machine sputtered to life, its engine groaning and belching out thick smoke. Slowly, the wheels began to turn, grinding with a metallic whine as the silter cable started its slow, deliberate journey back. Each turn of the reel felt like pulling hope from the Graylands itself, as if the machine were tugging at the very edge of that cursed place, attempting to free those still trapped within its monochrome grasp. I stood there, watching the cable inch its way forward, knowing that each passing second carried the weight of lives, of sanity, hanging by the thinnest thread. The surrounding air was thick with tension, the rhythmic clanking of the reel the only sound as we waited, hoping to see movement on the other end of the line. Hours went by before the hope of rescue of the others was shattered. When the cable finally returned, it wasnt accompanied by the sight we had hoped for. Instead, it came back severed, the end frayed and dangling, as though it had been violently torn from whatever it was supposed to be attached to. When the severed end appeared, my blood froze. There was no vehicle attached, no caravan, no sign of those lost souls who had ventured with me into that abyss. Only the jagged, twisted metal remained, as though some unfathomable force had gnawed through ithad consumed it, and all it once connected. It dangled limp and dead, a grim parody of hope, cut loose from whatever cursed fate had claimed the rest. The sight of that mangled end was not a simple mechanical failureno, this was far worse. This was evidence, incontrovertible and final, of something deeper, something monstrous and unknowable lurking just beyond the veil of reality. Something had severed it, but what? The Graylands themselves, or some presencesome ancient, maleficent force whose very nature defies comprehension? I felt it thenthat subtle shift in the air, as if the world itself recoiled at the knowledge of what we had unleashed by venturing into that desolate, accursed place. A cold sweat broke over my brow, and the shadows seemed to deepen, lengthening unnaturally, as though they too were retreating from the silent horror that gripped my mind. The cable, still swaying from the motion, seemed to mock us with its terrible silence, as if whatever lay beyond the gray hills had severed not only the physical connection but any hope of return, of sanity. I understood with sickening claritythose who had ventured into the Graylands were beyond saving. They were beyond the reach of our world, swallowed by a place where the rules of nature, of time and reason, twisted into gray. -9/13/2989- A little over a year has passed since my last entry. I had intended never to write in this cursed journal again, believing that sealing it away would help me forget the horrors it contained. Yet, as I was going through my things in the study, I stumbled upon itforgotten in a drawer, hidden beneath layers of papers, yet still there, waiting. The moment I saw it, I felt an undeniable pull, as though the journal itself demanded one final entry before I consigned it to oblivion. So, here I am, compelled to put pen to paper once more, if only to summarize the events that transpired after I escaped from the Graylands. After it became clear that there was no hope of rescuing the others, those of us who remained made the grim decision to leave the Graylands behind and begin the long journey back to where it had all startedGibbers estate. The weight of the loss hung heavy in the air, but there was nothing more we could do. The cable had been severed, and the others were lost to that cursed place. When we finally returned, the sight of Gibbers sprawling estate, with its manicured gardens and towering mansion, felt strangely out of place, almost dreamlike after the bleakness of the Graylands. The estates opulence seemed obscene in contrast to the horrors I had experienced. Yet, as we approached, it became clear that nothing had changed in Gibbers world. He was the same opportunistic man as always. The moment he laid eyes on me, his face twisted into something between shock and revulsion. I must have been a ghastly sightmy skin still a sickly, ashen gray from the Graylands touch, my eyes hollow from exhaustion, and the weight of all I had seen. For a brief moment, I thought I saw a flicker of concern in his eyes, a human reaction to the horror of what had happened to us. But it was fleeting. Gibber was a man driven by self-interest, and that impulse quickly overwhelmed any sympathy he might have had. His gaze shifted from my face to the contents of my packthe gray flowers I had gathered from the mysterious lake, still vibrant in their dull, lifeless hues. It was as if the very sight of them made him salivate, his eyes lighting up with a glimmer of avarice. He hardly seemed to care about the ordeal I had endured or the fate of those who had been lost. All he saw were the rare and valuable specimens I had brought back. In his eyes, I was not a survivor returning from the brink of madnessI was a successful investment, something to be exploited. He pushed aside any lingering thoughts of my well-being, his focus narrowing on the flowers. His fingers twitched with anticipation as he examined them, his mouth almost visibly watering as he considered the life-extending potions that might come from these strange, colorless blooms. I stood there, numb, watching him drool over the very things that had nearly driven me to madness. His greed was palpable, and his excitement was almost grotesque. It was a stark reminder of the world I had returned toa world just as indifferent and cold as the Graylands, but in a different way. Where the Graylands stripped away your sense of self with its gray void, men like Gibber did the same, but with the glint of coin in their eyes. I felt a strange sense of detachment as he prattled on about how the flowers could be analyzed, sold to collectors, and the fortune it would bring us. A single flower was enough to leave me extraordinarily wealthy, and I had managed to bring back forty flowers. But at that moment, standing before Gibber and his insatiable greed, I realized that even though I had escaped the Graylands, it had not truly left me. The gray had seeped into my very soul, and no amount of wealth could ever change that. Gibber, for all his riches and ambitions, could not understand the price I had paid to return. I handed over every last one of the gray flowers I had collected, each petal a haunting reminder of the nightmare I had survived. Gibber, practically salivating over his newfound treasure, eagerly began the process of transferring a large sum of money into my account. His face beamed with the satisfaction of a man who had just struck gold, while I stood there, hollow and detached from the whole exchange. It felt meaningless to methose flowers, that moneynone of it could erase the horrors I had seen or bring back the people who had been lost. Within the first few days of receiving the money, I knew I couldnt keep it all. So, I gave more than half of it away without hesitation. The bulk of the funds went to the families of the caravan membersthe ones who had accompanied me on that ill-fated journey and who had placed their trust in me. I gave an even larger portion to the families of those who had never made it out of the Graylands, the ones whose names would forever be whispered in sorrow and uncertainty. I owed them that much, at the very least. While their loved ones would never return, the money was my way of acknowledging the price they had paida price that went far beyond anything that could be measured in currency. The remainder of the money went toward my own treatments, as I desperately needed help managing the lingering effects of my exposure to the Graylands. The graying had taken a toll on both my body and mind, in ways I was only beginning to understand. I sought out every expert I could finddoctors, psychologists, even obscure scholars who specialized in rare afflictions. A year into my treatment, I can cautiously say that some measure of normalcy has returned. The color in my skin has slowly been restored. The intense bouts of dissociation that once haunted me day and night have lessened, though they still linger at the edges of my mind, like shadows waiting to creep back in. Ive learned to manage the constant feeling of being disconnected from reality, but its a slow, agonizing process. Some days, it feels as though Ive made progress; other days, the Graylands still seem to stretch before me, endless and inescapable. I do experience panic attacks from time to time, especially when the sky grows overcast. The oppressive, muted gray of those clouds brings me right back to the Graylands, to that suffocating feeling of being trapped in a world drained of life and color. On those days, Ive learned to take precautions. I stay inside, make sure all the blinds are drawn, and avoid any glimpse of the sky. Even the faintest touch of gray in the clouds can send me spiraling into a state of dread. And then, there are the dreams. Every night, without fail, I find myself once again wandering through those desolate, gray hillsan endless, barren landscape. It''s as though Im still wandering through the Graylands. I wake up screaming, drenched in sweat, my heart pounding. Its always the same, night after night. Ive tried everything, but nothing stops the nightmares. The only relief Ive found is in a cocktail of drugs that prevents me from dreaming altogether. Its not a perfect solution, but at least I wake up to silence instead of terror. The shadow men, though... they''re still here. Watching. Even as I write this, I can see one through the window, just standing there, motionless, those two dull gray dots for eyes staring at me. I know I should be terrifiedI was at firstbut now? Ive gotten used to them. Their presence has become almost routine, a constant companion that no longer sends shivers down my spine. They dont bother me, really. They just watch. Always watching. My doctor insists they arent real. He tells me theyre figments of my imagination, lingering effects of the graying. Hes put me on an experimental treatment, hoping the new drugs will help me stop seeing them. I nod along to his explanations, but a part of me wonders: What if they are real? What if the Graylands left more than just scars on my mind and body? While I cant claim to be fully healedperhaps I never will bethere is a flicker of hope now, however faint. Ive come to realize that whatever happened to me in that desolate place may never fully be undone, but I can at least learn to live with it. Maybe, in time, Ill be able to truly move forward. Until then, Ill keep seeking answers, and with each passing day, Ill try to put just a little more distance between myself and the color gray. -10/31/2997- Ive come to a horrifying realizationone that chills me to my very core. I never left the Graylands. Even now, as I sit here writing this, Im not in my study, Im still wandering those cursed, colorless hills. The truth hit me with such dreadful clarity: the dreams... they arent dreams at all. Theyre real. Every time I think Im asleep, safe in the waking world, Im actually still there, still lost in that endless gray expanse. I dont dream about wandering the GraylandsI am wandering the Graylands. Every night when I close my eyes, Im drawn back, and in those moments, my body walks those bleak hills as if I had never left. It isnt my mind playing tricks on meits my reality. If I try to explain this to my doctors, theyll think Im spiraling, that Im having some kind of manic episode, just another psychological break from the trauma. But I know the truth now. I see it so clearly. Im not the same person who entered the Graylands. I am me, but not me. There is no truth, and there is no falsehood. There are only shades of gray. Those are the words written on the gray monolith. They are the answer to everything! The monolith... it knew. It always knew. That silent, brooding stone carried the answer the entire time, hidden in plain sight. I died in the Graylands. Then I started wandering the Graylands, but it wasn''t me, because I was dead, but it was me. Its all because its gray! It is obscured because it is all gray. ITS ALWAYS BEEN GRAY! I know how this must sound. Like the ravings of a madman, and perhaps I am. But I swear to youits true. The Graylands don''t just drain the color from the world around you; it obscures what is and isn''t. Everything becomes gray, both literally and metaphysically. The Graylands doesnt just swallow color; it consumes meaning. And, so. I never left and still wander it now. But If I never left the Graylands, then who did? Chapter 80 - Reading Session Undead created by necromancers are normally individually weak. These creatures operate under very basic instincts and have no sense of self-preservation. They don''t attempt to dodge or block any attacks thrown at them. Instead, they mindlessly advance toward their targets. This lack of self-preservation and tactical awareness make them very easy to handle for a combat-trained mage or anyone wielding a weapon. Even a novice mage could dispatch these undead with relative ease, as their movements are predictable and their reactions slow. The danger that comes with fighting necromancers comes from the fact they can overwhelm you with sheer numbers of undead. It is not unheard of for a necromancer to easily control over hundreds of undead creatures at a given time. The quantity of undead they can create makes up for the drawbacks. But, if a necromancer has no access to bones or corpses, they are no more dangerous than a regular mage. Possibly less so, since they chose to specialize in necromancy and might lack skill in other types of combat magic. Without bones or corpses to animate, their arsenal of spells are severely limited. However, dont expect to come across a necromancer that doesn''t have access to corpses in some way. Necromancers are known to carry around an object known as a bone bag. It is similar to other spatial storage items, able to store many items in a small object, except it is purposely designed to hold only corpses, and a lot of them. The exact capacity of these bags is hard to determine. But to give an example of their capacity, a particularly dangerous rattle bone cultist I defeated had collected the bones of over a thousand people and stored them in a single bone bag. Bone bags are illegal to make due to the fact they are crafted specifically from the skin of a living human being. The type of corpse that can be stored in these containers is determined by the type of skin from which the bag was made. Consequently, human skin is the preferred material for crafting bone bags, as these bags were typically used to store human corpses. The process of creating a bone bag is both gruesome and barbaric, involving the skinning of a living person to ensure the bag''s enchantment would hold. Anyone carrying around a bone bag is a clear indication they are a necromancer and most likely a Rattle Bone cultist. Hunting cultist By Archmage and Witch Hunter Betty Vo -Back at the Arcanium Archive- Joes group remained in a private room at the archive, meticulously poring over the books Sorin had been researching. Sandra, the head librarian at the archive, was also present, assisting Joes team with her expertise. Each member of the group had their eyes glued to different books, their focus intense as they sifted through the pages. They were searching for any clues that might aid in their investigation, hoping to uncover any connections and secrets that may be hidden within the texts. The atmosphere in the room was one of quiet determination, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of pages being turned. Alan was reading a black leather-bound book in his hands. He had been going through the collection of cult books that Sorin had checked out, trying to make sense of them. The book he held now was known as the "Rattle Scratching," a sort of holy book that details the practices and beliefs of the Rattle Bone cult, written by one of its own members. As he flipped through the pages, Alan found the content utterly baffling. The things described were bizarre and the beliefs incomprehensible, filled with cryptic phases and messy handwriting that was difficult to read and left him more confused with each passing page. He had expected that a book belonging to a cult of necromancers would contain rituals and spells related to necromancy. However, as Alan flipped through the pages, he found almost none of that. Instead, the book seemed more like the ravings of a madman, filled with disjointed thoughts and chaotic phrases. There was little rational information he could extract from it. The author rambled incessantly about something called "The Rattle", but never provided a clear description of what it was. Alan''s best guess was that it referred to some sort of strange sound, and that the members of the Rattle Bone cult were desperately trying to hear it by offering bones to this Rattle. The weird concept of the "Rattle" only added to the book''s incomprehensibility, making it a maddening puzzle rather than a useful guide. Alan: What in the world Im I looking at? Joe: That''s the Rattle Scratching for ya. I told ya to leave that for last. You wont find anything useful in that book. Its just nonsensical ramblings. he said, while continuing to read the book in front of him. Alan: But, I thought there would be at least something in this. Theyre a cult of necromancers, so there should be spells and rituals to create undead and stuff. But, there is barely any of that here. And, the few rituals I did find make no sense. Like, one of the rituals, I can''t tell if they''re telling me how to create an undead or bake a cake. Sandra put the book she was reading down and faced toward Alan. Sandra: Well, that copy of the Rattle Scratching was confiscated from a pastry chef that was discovered to be a Rattle Bone cultist. So, it probably is actually a cake recipe. Hearing that, Jafar couldnt help but chuckle. Jafar: How do you mistake a cake recipe for a ritual to create undead? Alan: You read this bloody book and tell me its obviously a cake recipe. Cause I dont know too many cake recipes where you put rat poison in it, he said as he frustratingly placed the book he was reading onto the table in front of him. And whats the deal with putting a cake recipe in this? Sandra: Cultists from Rattle Bone reproduce the Rattle Scratching by hand, and when they do, they change things and add their own little flair to it. Every version of the Rattle Scratching is slightly different. With each member adding something to their reproduction of the text. They then scatter those texts all over the place for others to find. I think we have a little under a thousand copies of the Rattle Scratching here at the Archive. And, they''re all different from one another. Alan: Ah, OK. So it''s a weird game of telephone with this book. Dan: Hang on a second. If they''re constantly reproducing and changing it, how do you know which copy is the original? If each version they copy is slightly different from the last, then some of these books must be completely different from each other. It would turn into a completely different text if they did this for long enough, he said while putting the book he was reading down and joining in the conversation. Sandra: It is as you say. Some of the copies are completely different from each other. There are versions of the Rattle Scratching that have a lot more forbidden knowledge related to necromancy in them, and others a lot less. Alan: Then the version I have must be the one that has hardly any information about necromancy in it. Why am I even looking at this version then? Sandra: Because thats the version of the Rattle Scratching Sorin took out. Although, there are versions with more details about how to conduct necromancy in them. I have no clue why he wanted this version. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Rell: I think I know why. There is a project at the Grayscale College theyre working on that specifically relates to the Rattle Scratching. It has something to do with pattern recognition in those texts. They ended up finding some secret messages in a handful of versions of the Rattle Scratching. I think he made some small contribution to that project. Joe: Do you know how involved with that project he was? Rell: I dont believe that much. Like I said, he only made a small contribution. And, the enforcers already talked to the person in charge of that project about his connection to Sorin. She didnt know anything. Joe: I would still like to talk to that guy if possible. Rell: Ill put in a request, but I think someone else from the Slight-Hawks might already be talking to Professor Snaila. Oh, and its a ''she'', not a ''he''. Joe: If someone else is already talking to her, dont worry about it. Lets just focus on these books we got to go through. Because after were done with this batch, if we dont find anything useful, we have to go through the rest of the books he took out. Based on what weve been told about professors taking books out, Im sure its a lot. he said while looking toward Sandra. Sandra: Yes, It is quite a lot, she said, confirming Joes comment. Dan, Alan, and Jaffar all sighed. They had already spent several hours working on this, but their progress had been painfully slow, with little to show for their efforts. Despite their best attempts, they hadnt even managed to get through a tenth of the books that had been brought to them. Many of the volumes Sorin and Jixi had taken out were incredibly dense and difficult to decipher. Some passages were so packed with complex and convoluted ideas that they required multiple readings just to grasp the meaning, further dragging out the time it took to make any headway. The task was so tedious that it took considerable willpower to stay awake while wading through the heavy, sleep-inducing texts. Half the group was already starting to feel a little mentally drained, and yet there was still so much to do. Alan forced himself to pick up the Rattle Scratching once more, his fingers tightening around the worn cover as he braced himself to dive back into the nearly incomprehensible ramblings of a madman. Taptaptap. Alan froze, hearing a distant, ominous tapping sound echoing from somewhere behind him. It sounded like something hard striking against stone, sharp and poignant. His heart pounded as he slowly turned to look over his shoulder, expecting to see the source of the noise. But there was nothing thereonly a wooden wall, its surface mostly bare. The tapping sound stopped the second he started to turn his head. Joe glanced up from the book he was reading, catching sight of Alan glancing over his shoulder with a nervous, unsettled expression. Alan''s eyes darted around the room, his posture tense as if something had spooked him. Joe: Something wrong? Alan: Oh, um. I thought I heard a weird tapping sound. Did anyone else hear that? he said while turning back to the group. Joe: Hmm, no. I didnt hear anything. Everyone else present, except for Alan, also nodded in agreement with Joe. Alan: I must be losing it. Jafar: Youre probably just tired. It''s late, and you and I were just training with Mitra earlier today. So it might be a bit expected. Rell: You two trained with Mitra he said, sounding surprised. Jafar: Yeah. Didn''t you know? Rell: No. Im very sorry to hear that about you two, he said with a look of sympathy. Alan felt uneasy under the sympathetic gaze Rell directed at him. He was accustomed to Rell being a stern, reserved figure, much like Mitra. Seeing any emotion from Rell, especially sympathy for Alan, was unsettling and felt completely out of character. Dan: What are you sorry about? Rell: Ill tell you and Joe later. Dan: Why not now? In response to the question, Rell pointed silently at Jafar. Dan turned his head to see Jafar with a thousand-yard stare. His eyes seemed empty and devoid of life as he recalled the training he''d gone through with Mitra. It was clear that Jafar wasn''t fully present at the moment. His mind had drifted back to the grueling training sessions he had endured with Mitra. The intensity of those experiences echoed in his vacant stare, as if he were reliving the trials that had shaped him, leaving him momentarily disconnected from the reality in front of him. Dan didnt know the cause for such a stare, but he recognized that hollow expression all too well. It was the kind of look that spoke of exhaustion, frustration, and the weariness that comes from being trapped in an endless cycle of burdensome tasks. Dan had experienced something similar himself during his own ordeal with the relentless paperwork that had nearly driven him to the brink. A deep sense of sympathy swelled within Dan, reflecting the same emotion Rell had shown earlier. Dan unexpectedly found himself empathizing with Jafar, and the weight of whatever burden was haunting him. He couldn''t shake the feeling that if Rell elaborated on what he was alluding to, it might only push Jafar further into that state. Dan: Ah, later will be fine then. Joe: If you two are tired, I can take you home. The rest of us can keep working at it. Alan: That''s ok. I can keep going for a little bit more. Joe: Dont push yourself. You two are still students. Rell here is a full-time enforcer, and the rest of us are full-time officers. We dont have to attend class after this like you. Jafar: Hmm. Maybe we should head home. Joe is right, I have some classes early tomorrow morning. Alan: OK, just let me finish this book first. Then we can head home. Alan was about to pour himself back into the Rattle Scratching when a sharp beeping sound cut through the air, emanating from Joe. The sudden noise snapped everyones attention to the officer. Joe calmly reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box with a tiny flickering screenit was a pager, a device used to receive text and voice messages. The group watched intently as Joes expression shifted, the message on the screen unfolding before him. Whatever information was being transmitted, it clearly demanded immediate attention. Dan: Whos messaging you? Is it Mike? Joe: No, its Tony from the forensics team. He wants to see me right away. Dan: What for? Joe: Dont know. Just says it''s important. In that case, heres the plan. Ill take you two with me, he said while pointing at Alan and Jafar. Head towards where Tony is asking to meet, quickly help him out, then take you two home. Jafar: Actually, Alan and I dont live that far from the Archive. We can just walk home ourselves from here. Alan: All the same, I still would like to go with you and help out. Joe paused for a moment. He was about to tell Alan that he didnt need any help. But then, he stopped himself. Instead of immediately saying anything, Joe crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, studying Alan with a look of intense contemplation Joe: Sure. Are the rest of you OK staying here and working through these documents? Rell: No problems here. Jafar: Ill keep working on it for a little more before heading home. Dan: OK, how long will you be? And, are you coming back? Joe: Dont know, and yes. Ill help you two out after I finish helping Tony and drop Alan off at home, he said before turning toward Sandra. How long are you willing to stay here? Sandra: Oh, dont worry. Ill be here till midnight. Joe: Ok, then. Lets get going. Joe rose from his seat, and Alan quickly followed suit. Without exchanging another word, the two of them exited the private room, leaving the others behind in silence. The air in the room seemed to shift as they departed, the door closing softly behind them. Once outside, they began walking side by side down the expansive hallway that led toward the entrance of the Archive. The corridor was dimly lit, its high ceilings echoing their footsteps as they moved in unison. Arcane candles floated above their heads, lighting the path before them. As they walked along, Alan couldnt help but stare back at the door to the private room they were just in. Wondering what that tapping sound was, and why hearing it made him feel so nervous. Chapter 81 - Late Night Drive The oldest known written text that exists to date is a little over 12,000 years old, the Gahr Hielm. A stone tablet found within ruins located outside the Obsidian Towers within Gix. The aether dating within the material of the tablet suggests it was created in 8971 BAE. This is the year many historians declare when writing begins for humans. However, I disagree with this assumption. There are a variety of artifacts and structures that predate the Gahr Hielm by an overwhelming amount. And, these objects possess a degree of sophistication to a level that we can not replicate today. Objects enchanted with ancient magic, such as the Eye of Argon, are prime examples. This ancient magic defies Aether theory, which is one of the core bases of our understanding of existence. As such. I believe that these ancient people, who were capable of creating something so complex, must have been intelligent enough to develop a writing system. And yet, we can not find any writing from these civilizations. I have a theory that during the Mythic Era, there was a cataclysmic event that occurred and led to the writings of the inhabitants of that time to be lost. The exact details of this event are hard to pinpoint. However, given the absurd nature of ancient magic that we have encountered, it is not beyond the realm of possibility that it could be reality warping in terms of the extent of the disaster. As such, our ancestors may have purposely destroyed all written records and knowledge of that era to prevent repeating whatever catastrophe happened. The notion that our ancestors deliberately destroyed all of their written records is also backed up by the mysterious words of giant sages that lived during this time who said, Man has destroyed his past, with purpose. And, while I will recognize that my speculation is quite grand in claim. I will point out to my critics that advanced civilizations really did exist during the Mythic Era, and that is not disputed. For civilizations as advanced as the ones during the Mythic Era to suddenly disappear and not leave anything written behind is beyond strange. Regardless of my theory, I believe it is presumptuous for other historians to declare 8971 BAE the year humans first began writing. Especially since there has not been a proper compassion with historical records from the eastern continent. Ancient Times Forgotten By disgraced Archmage Alexandria Scarlett Joe and Alan had been driving along through the city, their car cutting through the stillness of the evening. Alan was sitting in the passenger seat. It was late, and the streetlights had begun to flicker on, one after another, casting a dim glow on the emptying streets. As they passed each light, its sudden flash caught Alan''s eye, adding to the rhythm of the ride. The number of people on the streets had dwindled, the once-bustling city was now quiet as the sun dipped below the horizon. The only sources of light were the streetlights and the occasional glow from a nearby building. Shadows grew longer, and the atmosphere slowly became more quiescent with each passing block. This part of the city was slowly ramping down and preparing to sleep for the night. Alan couldnt shake the strange sense of surrealness that crept over him as they continued driving. The familiar cityscape seemed different, almost dreamlike, as if they were moving through a place caught between reality and illusion. It was that strange feeling that made Alan realize how tired he truly was. When Alan had offered to help Joe, he hadn''t felt tired at all. In fact, he had been eager to lend a hand. He was taking every opportunity he could to contribute to this whole investigation. But, something about the drive to their destination had a calming effect on him. The smooth hum of the engine, the rhythmic passing of the streetlights, and the gentle sway of the car as it moved through the city streets all combined to create a serene atmosphere, like the kind of relaxing evening drive he hadnt experienced in a while. As they drove, the events of the day began to catch up with him. The intense training with Mitra and the hours spent poring over the books all had taken a toll. He hadnt realized just how much it had worn him down until now. The peacefulness of the drive seemed to coax the weariness to the surface, making him aware of just how exhausted he truly was. Alan felt his eyelids grow heavy, the steady motion of the car lulling him into a drowsy state. The more they drove, the sleepier he became, as if the city itself was urging him to rest. If Alan had realized how tired he truly was, he likely would not have offered to go along with Joe to help. They continued to drive in silence for a few more minutes, with Alan forcing himself to stay awake. It was Joe who was the first to break the silence. Joe: Sowhats your deal with Ren? Alan: Huh? he mumbled as he pulled out his trance. Joe: Did he wrong you, or something? he asked, as he turned off onto another road. Alan: No, not really. Joe: Not really? So, he kinda wronged you? Alan: He didnt wrong me at all. Joe: Then whats with the animosity between you two? Its why I let you tag along. So, I could ask you about that. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Alan: I dont know what youre talking about. Theres no beef between us. Joe: Oh, give me a break. It is so obvious something is going on between you two. The first day we started working together, you accused him of using spirit binding magic and looked like you were ready to attack him over it. Alan: It was just a misunderstanding. Joe: Thats a pretty fucking big misunderstanding. I would never casually accuse someone of using something as heinous as spirit-binding magic. Not unless I had some pretty solid evidence of something like that. Tell me, is this related to Rell being from Grayscale College? Alan: ... The young enforcer remained silent, his lips pressed together in a thin line. When the question was asked, he didnt respond with words. Instead, a pained expression crossed his face, his eyes reflecting the internal struggle he was grappling with. Alan didnt understand why he didnt like Rell. He just didnt. But, when Joe pointed out the Grayscale connection, it seemed so obvious. He didnt want to admit that was what it was, and he tried to rationalize it, but couldn''t come up with a reasonable explanation. Joe: Your silence says a thousand words. Alan: Why am I being interrogated about this? Joe: Cause Im in charge of this unit, which means I have to try and resolve conflict between the people in this unit. I dont need you fighting with Rell. And, light forbid, you attack him because of your dislike of him. Alan: I would never! he yelled defensively, not appreciating being accused of possibly attacking someone. Joe: Then talk to me. Convince me why you can work with Rell, and why I shouldnt remove you from my unit. The possibility that Joe might kick Alan out of the unit sent a wave of panic through him. Being in Arcane Eye hinged entirely on his position with the Enforcers. If Joe removed him from the unit, Alan wasnt sure if he would even be allowed to remain an Enforcer. Without that status, his place in the Arcane Eye would be in jeopardy. If he couldnt stay in the Arcane Eye, his chances of becoming an Archmage would plummet dramatically. It wasnt just a setback; it was a potential roadblock that could shatter his dreams. Unable to keep the promise he made to Cris about becoming an Archmage. The idea of failing that promiseof losing everything he had worked so hard forfilled him with a sense of dread that was almost overwhelming. Alan: I-I dont know what to tell you. I just dont like Rell. Maybe youre right, and it has something to do with him being from the Grayscale College, he said, trying to be honest. Joe: I suspected. Ive dealt with men who were hurt by women and vice versa. Those people sometimes project their fear and hatred of the person who hurt them onto the entirety of the opposite sexassociating entire groups of people with the thing that hurt them. I had a feeling it might be something like that with you, but with the Grayscale. Sorin was a Grayscale professor, and you were part of the group of students that stopped him, so that would leave a less than positive impression of the Grayscale. There was an awkward silence that followed after Joe commented. A tumultuous swirl of emotions churned within Alan, crashing over him like relentless waves as he struggled to make sense of it all. Each surge of feeling overwhelmed him, leaving him grasping for clarity amidst the chaos in his mind. The weight of what had happened to him and the memories of Sorin pressed heavily on his chest, making it nearly impossible to find the words to express the depth of his experience. He searched for a way to articulate the complex mix of anger, sorrow, and confusion. Alan: Sorin killed my friend. Turned him into an undead and forced his corpse to attack me. Even though I can rationalize that it wasn''t Cris attacking me, it still feels a little like he was betraying me. Now, every time I think about my friend, I''m reminded of that feeling. Sorin not only killed my friend and defiled his body, but he also defiled the memory of Cris. Thats Something I will never forgive Sorin for. Joe: Ah, shit. Sorry about that. I get it. Ive been there. Damn it. Kids like you shouldn''t have to be dealing with this kind of shit. Alan: How could you understand something like this? Joe: Ive had friends that died as well, murdered in fact. Alan: Oh Joe: You want to remember how they were in life, but all you think about is how they died. Especially, when the method of death was very gruesome. While Its not exactly what youre feeling, it is somewhat similar. Like your feelings of betrayal, the memory of my friends is mixed with my regret of failing them. Another heavy, uncomfortable silence settled between them after Joe''s words, lingering in the air. Alan found himself at a loss, unable to muster a response. He barely knew Joe, only a week had gone by since he met him. Alan had bared his emotions, laying himself open in a desperate attempt to stay on the teambut he never imagined that Joe, the seasoned and stoic senior detective, would reciprocate with his own vulnerability. The unexpected revelation left Alan feeling both exposed and strangely connected, yet the weight of what had been shared made it difficult for either of them to find the right words. Another minute went by before it was ultimately Alan who broke the silence. Alan: Um, could you not take me off the team? I promise to try and get along with Rell. Joe: I wont take you off. And, you dont have to like Rell. This thing you developed with people from the Grayscale College is something youre going to have to work through, and that takes time. Just dont fight with him if you can. Alan: No problem, Ill be sure to. Joe: Good. Consider this free therapy to help work through your issues. If you ever need to talk about it, Ill lend ya an ear. Alan nodded, and they continued on their drive. They weaved through the quiet streets, passing by buildings that seemed lifeless, their windows darkened as if the businesses had long since closed for the night. The tension that had lingered between Alan and Joe from their earlier conversation seemed to dissipate, evaporating into the cool night air as if it had never existed. In the distance, Alan noticed a flicker of blue and red lights cutting through the darkness. As they drew closer, the flashing lights revealed themselves to be police cars, their beams bouncing off the windows of nearby homes and vehicles. Joe pulled the car to the side of the road and parked, the tires crunching softly on some loose bits of sand on the pavement. From where they sat, Alan could see a large, opulent home. The area around the home was in chaos. A fence of caution tape had been strung around the residence, marking it as a crime scene. Police officers moved about with purpose, their forms silhouetted against the bright lights of the squad cars. The scene was a stark contrast to the quietness they had just driven through, and the gravity of the situation settled heavily in the air. Alan: Is this a crime scene? You didnt say we were going to a crime scene. Joe: I didnt know. Was only told to come here. Well, were here now. Let''s see whats going on, he said while getting out of the car. Alan also got out and followed behind Joe toward the taped-off area. Chapter 82 - One-Sided Rivalry Joe and Alan advanced toward a group of nearby police officers. As they drew closer, the dim, flickering lights of the police cars illuminated the officers faces, and Joe internally groaned. Though their names escaped him at the moment, he instantly recognized themthey belonged to members of Lewiss investigation unit. These werent just any officers; they were part of Lewiss team that got put on Sleuth-Hawks operations like Joe. Their presence at the scene suggested that whatever had transpired at this residence was far from ordinary, and likely connected to the Sorin investigation. Joes mind raced as he considered the implications, the weight of the situation settling heavily on his shoulders. The officers from Lewiss team moved with purposeful urgency, their expressions a mix of concentration and prudence, indicating that they were deep into the initial stages of their investigation. Joe felt a knot tighten in his gut as he prepared himself for the interaction, fully aware that whatever lay ahead would demand every ounce of his patience and resolve. One of the officers, who had been deep in conversation with his colleagues, noticed Joe approaching. He paused mid-sentence, his expression shifting from focused to weary as he recognized who was heading their way. With a resigned sigh, the officer turned to fully face Joe, his shoulders slumping slightly as if already anticipating the conversation to come. The familiarity between them was evident, marked by the officers tired reaction, as if he knew that Joes arrival would bring complications. Lewis Subordinate: Joe, what are you doing here? Joe: What am I doing here? What the fuck? You guys called me here. Lewis Subordinate: As if anyone would do that in our unit. We know how you and Lewis behave around each other, and we would never call you unless we had no other choice. We dont need you two arguing. Joe: Fucking Lewis, he mumbled under his breath. There was an unspoken, mostly one-sided rivalry simmering between Lewis and Joe. Lewis had always felt the need to outshine Joe, constantly striving to solve more cases and accumulate a longer list of accomplishments. On paper, Lewiss record was impressive, with more than double the number of successful investigations compared to Joe''s. However, the reality was that the scope of Lewiss successes paled in comparison to Joes. While Lewis was busy busting small-time drug dealers and handling minor cases, Joe was bringing down serial murderers and cracking complex cases that required a level of skill and dedication that few could match. This disparity didnt sit well with Lewis, who often found himself irked by the fact that, despite his numbers, his achievements never seemed to carry the same weight as Joes. The truth was, Joe didnt care much about this rivalry. He had never seen Lewis as a competitor and didnt engage in the petty one-upmanship that Lewis seemed to thrive on. Joes indifference, however, only fueled Lewiss frustration. Determined to prove his superiority, Lewis often went out of his way to create more work for Joe, adding more tasks to his caseload. This passive-aggressive behavior was the real source of Joes frustration with Lewis. It wasnt the rivalry itself that bothered Joe, but the extra burden it placed on himburdens that led to arguments between them. While Joe tried to stay focused on his work, Lewiss relentless drive to compete created a tension that neither could fully escape. Joe: Look, I dont want to argue with you or Lewis. I have my own shit I need to do. But, Tony sent me a message to come to this address. Said it was urgent. Lewis Subordinate: Tony Theres no one on our team named Tony? Joe: Form forensics. Lewis Subordinate: OH! That explains it. It was the forensics team that called you. No one from our team would ever. Joe: Yeah where is the forensics team? Lewis Subordinate: Theyre already inside looking into something. Upon hearing those words, Joe didnt hesitate. He began to stride past the other officers, his focus locked on the taped-off house at the center of the commotion. But before Joe could get too far, the officer he had just been speaking with quickly reacted. Realizing Joes intent, the cop hurriedly stepped in front of him, cutting off his path. The officers sudden move forced Joe to halt abruptly. The cops outstretched arm and stern expression signaled that this was as far as Joe would be allowed to go, at least for the moment. Lewis Subordinate: Whoa, whoa. You cant go in there. Joe: Im a cop too, and the forensics team is asking to see me. Lewis Subordinate: Thats not the issue! Lewis is also in that house. Look, I know you dont try to fight with him, but thats how it always ends up. It adds to our workload as well when you two fight. Joe: Im a higher rank than you, and I dont care. So, move. The officer, who was Lewis''s subordinate, grumbled in frustration before reluctantly stepping aside. Joe moved past the officer, catching the faint sound of him muttering curses under his breath as he walked by. Alan followed closely behind Joe as they made their way towards the imposing house. The two of them approached the line of warning tape strung across the path and ducked under it without hesitation, continuing their steady march toward the large, looming structure. The front door of the house stood wide open, looking like it was smashed open. From their vantage point, Alan and Joe could see people moving about within. Joes eyes narrowed as he caught a glimpse of someone inside, wearing an enforcer''s uniform. Any lingering doubts that this scene was connected to the Sorin investigation vanished in an instant. The presence of the university enforcers was a clear sign that it was all related. Joe walked through the front door inside. Alan hesitated for a little bit, but continued to follow behind Joe. As they stepped inside, Joe''s gaze drifted to the side, catching sight of another room through an open doorway. The space he found himself staring into was nothing short of extravagant. An electric fireplace was embedded in the far wall, its artificial flames casting a warm, flickering glow that added a cozy yet surreal ambiance to the room. The floor and ceiling were adorned with a striking blue stone, polished to a glossy sheen that reflected the light in a subtle, mesmerizing way. The lighting in the room was ingeniously hidden, with fixtures embedded in the ceiling in such a way that they remained out of sight, casting a blue, even glow throughout the space. The walls were a blend of the same blue stone and an exotic black wood, the latter inlaid with intricate designs painted in a bright, golden hue that stood out brilliantly against the darker tones. Clear craftsmanship was in every detail, from the elaborate patterns to the seamless transitions between materials. In the center of the room, surrounded by a circle of blue leather couches that perfectly matched the stones hue, was a coffee table that looked like a block of black stone, its simplicity offering a striking contrast to the rooms overall richness. In one corner, a few small tables held ornate lamps. The entire space felt like a carefully curated display of wealth and taste, designed to impress and intimidate in equal measure. The entire space had a degree of minimalist elegance that hinted at a luxurious lifestyle. The decorations alone made it clear that the owner of this home was wealthy. Joe: Well, if the outside didnt already look expensive and gave it away, I would guess we walked into the home of a rich businessman or nobleman. ???: Youd be right. Joe turned to see the source of that familiar voice that he found ever so annoying.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Approaching from another hallway was a man with short blond hair and a face that Joe would describe as punchable, was Lewis. He was dressed in a white dress shirt, its crisp fabric partially hidden beneath a sleek armored vest that fit snugly over his torso. His outfit was completed by a pair of tailored brown pants that contrasted sharply with the polished Oxford dress shoes on his feet. The shoes, meticulously polished to a mirror finish, added a touch of sophistication to the otherwise utilitarian look. Joe: Lewis Lewis: Joe Both men glared at each other, waiting for the other to say something. Alan, standing off to the side, could feel the tension in the air. His gaze darted nervously between the two, his mind racing as he debated whether to intervene or remain silent. It was ultimately Lewis who would break the tense silence first. Lewis: Why are you here? Joe: Im here to see Tony. Lewis: Tough luck. He''s too busy helping me for you to waste his time. Joe: Im not here to steal Tony from you or anything. Lewis: Where have I heard that before? Oh, wait. It was the last time you pulled that stunt with me and ripped someone from my team to help you work on your little passion project, he said, referring to the Rob case Joe was working on as a passion project. Joe was far from innocent when it came to the tension between him and Lewis. Just as Lewis would go out of his way to burden Joe with extra work, Joe retaliated in kind. He had a habit of pulling resources, like key personnel from the forensics team, away from Lewiss work to bolster his own investigations. This maneuvering often caused delays for Lewis''s team, piling on more work for them. Mike had confronted Joe about him doing this, warning him that antagonizing Lewis would only escalate things. But, Joe''s response was always the same: He does it to me, so I''m gonna do it to him. It was a tit-for-tat feud that had been going on for almost as long as they knew each other. Unfortunately, even though Joe wasnt here to mess with Lewis this time, the damage had already been done. Lewis didnt believe him, convinced that Joes presence was just another ploy to undermine him. The mistrust between them was so deep that even when Joe was being sincere, Lewis couldnt see past the history between them. Joe: This time its different. Were all working on the same case, were working with a university. Lewis: Oh, suuure its different this time, he said sarcastically. Joe: Look, it was Tony who called me. There is no alternative motive going on here. So, just let me talk to Tony, and then Ill fuck off. Lewis: Hmm, no. I dont think I will let you talk to Tony, he said with a cocky grin. Joe took a deep breath through his nose before exhaling through his mouth. It was always like this, Lewis would act with a sense of superiority that was so grading to deal with. He wanted so badly to punch Lewis in the face at this moment, but Joe had enough professional sense to hold back. However, that restraint was dwindling. Joe: How about you let me talk to Tony, and I dont make a scene. The cocky smile that had played on Lewiss face throughout the encounter vanished, replaced by a dark, angry scowl as Joes threat. The shift in his expression was immediate, his confidence evaporating into a simmering fury. It was clear that Joes words had struck a nerve; Lewis was no longer amused or dismissive. Lewis: How about you make a scene, and then me and my boys cant put cuffs on ya and throw you in a cell for the night. You fucking asshole. Joe: Not the brightest que tip are ya. Lewis: What are you talking about? Joe: Tell me how do you think Chief Murdock would respond if two of his officers started fighting each other, in front of the university enforcers, Joe said while pointing to a room behind Lewis. Lewis glanced over his shoulder and noticed a group of enforcers in the adjacent room, engaged in their own conversation. They seemed oblivious to the tense exchange unfolding between him and Joe, their focus entirely elsewhere. Lewiss eyes flicked back to Joe, finally realizing the threat that was being made. Joe: Cause I know what he''d do. It would cause a shitstorm, and you would be going down with me in that mess. Lewis: You wouldnt shit. You actually would, he said, familiar with Joes personality. Lewis started to rub his temples as stress was building within him. Joe: Just let me talk to Tony, and Ill get out of your hair. Lewis: Fine, but Im staying by your side the whole time, so you dont pull some sort of shit. Joe: Whatever. Lead the way. I just want to get this done and get out of here. Lewis grumbled while walking further into the home, with Alan and Joe following behind. Joe: While were walking, whats going on here? Lewis: Why should I tell you? Joe: Cause were all working on the same thing and sharing information already. No point in hiding from one another. Lewis: You can read it in my report then, he said, being petty and refusing to answer Joes question. Joe got another surge of annoyance that swelled up inside of him from Lewis'' attitude, but he swallowed it back. Alan noticed that Joe was grinding his teeth and could sense the growing frustration in Joe. The group moved past a cluster of enforcers who were huddled together in a kitchen, talking quietly among themselves. Without pausing, they continued down a long hallway that branched off into numerous rooms. Each room they passed was a showcase of opulence, filled with lavish decorations and priceless paintings that adorned the walls. The attention to detail in the dcor spoke of immense wealth and splendor, with every piece of art and furniture meticulously chosen to complement the grandeur of the space. As they walked, they caught glimpses of forensic teams working diligently in some of the rooms. Spreading fine white powder across surfaces as they searched for fingerprints, their focus was intense as they combed through every inch of the area. The hallway finally led them into what appeared to be a large study. The room was imposing, with towering bookshelves lining the walls and a massive, intricately carved desk dominating the center. From where the group stood, they could see someone crouched under the large desk in the study, their knees pressed into the thick carpet, with their back arched and bottom jutting out awkwardly. It was clear that they were searching for something beneath the massive desk. The figure rummaged through the shadows under the desk, their focus entirely on whatever might be concealed there, unaware of the arrival of Joes group. Lewis: Tony, someones here to see you," he called out to the person under the desk. Bang! Hearing his name suddenly called out, Tony reacted instinctively, attempting to stand up quickly. However, in his haste, he misjudged the space and slammed his head against the underside of the wooden desk. The impact reverberated through the room with a loud, sharp bang. Tony winced in pain, momentarily disoriented by the force of the blow. Tony: OW! Fuck! That hurts! he yelped as he grabbed his head. Tony slowly crawled out from beneath the desk, rubbing the sore spot where his head had collided with the wood. As he straightened up, everyone in the room got a clearer look at him. Standing at just 5''5" (1.68 meters), Tony was a short man with a distinctive appearance. The thinning hair on the crown of his head left him with a near-tonsure look, a ring of black and pepper hair framing his scalp. His large glasses magnified his eyes, giving him a somewhat owl-like appearance, as they peered out from behind the thick lenses. He wore a pair of high-waisted pants held up by suspenders, the fabric slightly wrinkled from hours of wear. A long-sleeved white shirt peeked out from beneath a well-worn brown jacket, the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal a bit of fraying at the cuffs. The jacket itself, though aged, still bore the marks of frequent use, its brown color faded and softened from years of wear. Despite his somewhat disheveled appearance, there was an air of diligence about Tony, as a man deeply absorbed in whatever task was at hand. Tony continued to rub the sore spot on his head, wincing slightly as he tried to soothe the lingering pain. After a moment, he glanced up, his eyes landing on Joe. A wave of relief washed over his face, his tense expression softening immediately. Tony: OH! Joe, you''re here. Im glad you came, he said, happy to see Joe. Joe and Tony shared a strong bond between them, one built over years of mutual respect and countless instances of Joe lending a hand when Tony needed it most. Their camaraderie had deepened over the years, and Joe had come to regard Tony as a dear friend, on par with his close relationship with Mike. This friendship was one of the few things that kept Joe from walking away the moment he realized Lewis was involved. Joe: Whats going on, Tony? Oh, and by the way, did you analyze that knife I gave you? The knife that Joe was referring to was the one he found in Mark''s home. Joe hoped that Tony and his team could uncover any hidden clueswhether fingerprints, traces of blood, or other forensic detailsthat might be useful for Joe. With everything that had happened with the Nighthounds and the university, Joe hadn''t had time to follow up with Tony about the knife. Lewis: You dont have to answer that, he immediately responded, acting like a lawyer defending a client. Tony glanced back at Lewis and then Joe, unsure of what he should say. Joe: Just say yes or no. No details needed. Tony: No, not with everything that has been happening lately. All the different forensic teams had been swamped with work. This whole university thing is eating up all of our time. I havent been able to analyze anyone''s evidence brought to me, let alone yours. Im sorry about that. Joe: Thats fine. I get it. So, why did you want to see me? Tony: Um, well, its about that, he said while pointing up at the ceiling. The entire group glanced upward in unison, their eyes widening as they took in the unexpected sight above them. The ceiling of the study was coated in a strange, translucent, slimy substance that gleamed faintly in the dim light. Chapter 83 - Slime Twice Joe stood in the study of an expansive home, his gaze fixed on the ceiling above him, where a strange, thick slime clung to the surface. It stretched across much of the ceiling in a slick, translucent film that glistened faintly in the dim light. Here and there, slimy drops formed, slowly growing heavier with each passing second, as if they were on the verge of breaking free and plummeting to the floor. Joe: Ummm OK. Can I get an explanation of whats going on? Tony: Its slime, but specifically from another room. The room above this one is a bedroom that is completely covered. Like, from head to toe, in every corner. And, the excess slime seeped through the floor vent into this room. Looking closely, Joe could see a ceiling vent where the slime likely leaked through. Joe: OK How much slime are we talking about in the room above? Tony: A lot, and I mean A LOT. Thats why I paged you. I heard from another forensic team about finding a slimy substance at another site. I tried to contact them, but they were all busy. But then, I remembered that it was your team that apparently found the slime. So, I called you over to tell us if this looks similar to the slime you found. Alan: Joe, this looks like the same slime that was at Larrys home, he said, quickly chiming in. Joe: I know. Tony: So, you have seen this before. Do you know what it is? Alan: No. Lewis: Pft, some investigator you turned out to be, he said, disparaging Joe''s ability as a detective. Alan: We called in another forensic team to look over Larrys home after we did our initial search. Making sure we didnt miss anything. The slime we foundone of the enforcers on our teamsuggested it was some sort of mucus from a lizard used for spell crafting. The forensic team tested it to see if it was that, but it came back negative, he said, while ignoring Lewis''s disparaging comment. Tony: Did they figure out what it was? Alan: Nope, they had no clue. They were pretty sure it was mucus, but they had no idea from what. They sent it off to the university for specialized testing. Tony: I guess I will have to wait for the university results. Its not toxic or anything, right? Alan: I hope not. Cause I got some of that gunk on my hands. Did you get some on you as well? Tony: No, but Lewis and a few others rushed into the bedroom and slipped and fell into that slime. Just want to make sure theyll be alright. Lewis: TONY! Why ya gotta tell him that! he shouted. Tony flinched, his eyes widening in shock at the unexpected ferocity of Lewis'' outburst. The words had come out of nowhere. The anger in Lewis voice had been so uncharacteristic, that it left Tony momentarily frozen, unsure of how to respond. Joe: Why were you rushing into the bedroom? Lewis: None of your business, youll find out about it in the report I have to write. Joe sighed heavily. As he met Lewis fiery gaze, Joe steeled himself, preparing to deliver the ultimatum he knew was necessary at this moment. Joe: Look, lets stop wasting each other''s time. I know you dont want to be doing this, you had your own shit to do before getting roped in with this joint university project. Its the same with me. So, a temporary ceasefire. We stop dicking each other over until this Jixi thing is done. OK? Lewis grumbled, the sound low and full of frustration. He was wrestling with himself, torn between his pride and the practical reality of the situation. The idea of going along with this agreement didnt sit well with himthere was too much bad history that couldnt be easily forgotten. Lewis had always been prideful, and the thought of setting aside those old grudges was anything, but easy. Yet, as much as he hated to admit it, what Joe had said was ringing true. Before he had gotten roped into working with the Sleuth-Hawks, Lewis had been focused entirely on something else, a case that had demanded his full attention. But ever since this whole Jixi situation emerged, everything has become more complicated. It wasnt that anyone had a problem working with the university; the real issue was the extra workload that came with the Jixi investigation. The police investigators were already stretched thin, and now they were expected to divide their efforts between their own ongoing cases and the search for Jixi. It was overwhelming, to say the least, and the strain was showing on everyone, especially Lewis. He had been putting in countless overtime hours, running around frantically just to keep up. It was getting to him, making him more irritable and grumpy than usual. The responsibilities were wearing him down. Lewis stood there for a few seconds, his thoughts churning. He didnt want to give inhis pride urged him to hold his groundbut deep down, he knew he was too tired to keep fighting. The constant battle, both at work and with Joe, was draining him, and he just didnt have the energy to keep it up. Reluctantly, he decided to relent. For now, at least, he would put their differences aside. With a weary sigh, Lewis nodded and agreed to temporarily stop the feud between them. It wasnt a surrender, not really, but more of a practical decision he told himself. He didnt have the strength to keep fighting, not with everything else he was dealing with. Lewis: We were in the middle of a raid. Busted into this home to apprehend a man named Guss von Hecktor. Joe: I see, so you ran into his bedroom trying to append this guy, and thenslipped he said, while holding back the compulsion to make a joke at Lewis'' expense. Lewis: Ha, ha, ha, he said sarcastically. Im sure this is hilarious for you. Joe: I didnt say anything. Lewis: You''re thinking it. But yeah. Thats what happened. Joe: Did you get him? Lewis: No, we cant find Guss anywhere. We searched up and down this bloody house, and didnt find anything. Tony: Um, not entirely nothing. We found more incriminating evidence.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Lewis: Not that we needed it. We already had enough evidence to arrest Guss. Joe: I guess I should roll this back a bit. Who is this Guss and why was your team arresting him? Lewis: My team, like yours, got assigned a bunch of people to look into as well. Guss von Hecktor is a rich nobleman who came up in some of Sorins writings, which the university uncovered. I did some digging around and managed to find some questionable financial transactions between Sorin and Guss. From there, I was able to get a warrant for his arrest, and I fully intended to grab this guy today. But now, he seems to be missing. Joe: Is this Guss guy someone who bought his way into nobility, or inherited it? Lewis: Hes old money. So, he inherited it. Joe: Hmm, what was his connection to Sorin exactly? Lewis: Pretty sure Guss was helping fund Sorins whole undead project. Sorin wasn''t acquiring the materials for his experiments through the university; he probably did that to hide what he was doing from Archmage Dakka, so he needed a source of money to buy those materials. It lines up with the fishy financial transactions I managed to find. Joe: But, why was he funding Sorin? Lewis: Thats something youll have to ask Guss, who is currently missing. Tony: Actually, I think I might know why he was helping Sorin. Lewis: How do you know? Tony: It came up in the evidence that the forensic team and I managed to uncover while searching Gusss home. We managed to find a journal that outlined a lot of Gusss interaction with Sorin. It seems like, from what I read, Guss didnt know entirely about the whole undead thing. Lewis: How did he not know what Sorin was doing? Tony: Because Sorin didnt frame his project as turning people into undead, he framed it as a form of mind magic. Guss thought Sorin was developing some sort of never-before-achieved mind control spell. Everyone was taken aback by what Tony was saying. Magic that directly influences the minds of others is an extraordinarily rare phenomenon. It is a type of power that most mages have never seen, and for good reasonsuch abilities are almost mythical in their scarcity. It only manifests within Null mages born of unique magic, similar to Joe, and mind-control magic might be the rarest of all types of known magics. It is a form of magic so infrequently seen that many believe it to be little more than a legend, whispered about in hushed tones among scholars and sorcerers alike. Joe could easily imagine a variety of reasons as to why someone like Guss, a nobleman, would be interested in this kind of magic. Lewis: I have heard of countless famous archmages trying and failing to reproduce any form of mind magic, let alone mind control, and he honestly thought Sorin could develop that type of magic. This is a type of magic you have to be born with. You''re not reproducing that. Tony: It seemed Guss was very convinced Sorin was onto something. Lewis: Then he was a bigger idiot than I thought. Joe: Maybe not. Was anything in that journal about Sorin bringing in some students from the university for a meeting or something? Tony: Yeah. Howd you know? Joe: Then thats it. He probably brought in one of his undead to show off. Made some influential students follow every single one of Sorin''s orders right in front of Guss. If you didnt know about the undead nature of these students, it would be easy to mistake it for some form of mind control. Tony: It is as you say. It was mentioned in his journal that Sorin brought in the son of the noble Scefer family and made him debase himself right in front of Guss. When Tony mentioned the Scefer family, Alan instantly knew who Tony was referring to. The realization stirred a sense of awkwardness within him, but he chose to remain silent, letting the conversation continue without revealing his thoughts. Lewis: Interesting. You didnt also happen to find out where Guss might have gone in the journal, did ya? Tony: Not really. The end of the journal just has him being paranoid. Its him complaining about feeling like hes being watched by someone. And, everything before that in the journal isgross. He outlined his plans for the mind-control magic. A lot of sick and twisted fantasies about him using it on a bunch of noblewomen for his own pleasure. Even mention making Yin Whitetail into his personal slave. Lewis let out a long sigh. Lewis: Thats kind of a given. Why else would you be interested in that kind of magic? Tony: Yeah, Guss is a real scumbag. Joe: OK. So, Guss was funding Sorins whole undead project. He was most likely doing this unwittingly, but was still doing it with malicious intention. You got a warrant for his arrest and raided his house, but when you got here he was nowhere to be found. All you ended up finding was slime in his bedroom. Is that correct?" Tony: Yup. Joe: Was this slime anywhere else? Any other rooms in the home? Lewis: Just the bedroom and a bathroom that''s attached to it. Oh, and possibly outside the house as well. Tony and the forensic team found potential signs that there might have been slime clinging to the side of the house. Tony: We found signs that there may have been a trail of slime that went from ground level up the side, and into the bedroom. But, were not a hundred percent sure. It rained not too long ago, and could have washed all the slime away. Joe: Did you find a pile of clothing anywhere? Possibly covered in slime as well. When Lewis heard that, his eyes widened in surprise, clearly taken aback by Joes question. Lewis: Yeah did you find something similar during your search? Joe: We did. We found a bunch of clothing covered with slime that were pretty sure belonged to our suspect, Larry. What did you find? Lewis: We found sleeping robes and underwear lying on top of Gusss bed, it was also covered in slime. Joe: So this slime has appeared at least in two locations. Both in bedrooms and with piles of clothes covered in slime. And, both subjects of our investigation are mysteriously missing. It cant be a coincidence. It all connected, with Sorin being the common thread between these two people. Hmm, turns out your slug transformation idea might not be that far-fetched, he said while padding Alans back. Lewis: What? Whats this about slug transformation? Joe: Alan here suggested that maybe Larry turned into a giant slug, aint that right? Alan: R-Right. I did suggest he might have turned into a giant slug monster, he nervously affirmed Joe. Joe: Barring any ordinary explanation, we''re left with only un-ordinary explanations. And, advance curses that transform people into monstrous creatures is not unheard of. Tony: You honestly think he was turned into a giant slug? Well, actually. That would explain the possible slime on the side of the house. He could have transformed into a giant slug and then crawled out the window and down the wall. It would also explain the clothing covered in slime. He would shed his clothing when transformed. Lewis: Whoa, whao, whao. You''re not actually buying this? Cmon, a giant slug, really? If there was something like that roaming the city, we would have already heard about it. Someone would have seen it and reported it to us, cause it''s not every day youd see a giant fucking slug in Graheel. Joe: Hmm, true. Maybe a small slug. No, too much slime for a small slug to secrete, he mumbled to himself. Lewis: Why are you so obsessed with these guys turning into slug creatures? Joe: Im not. Im just trying to exhaust all our options. Cause I don''t have a clue whats going on, do you? Lewis let out another long sigh. Lewis: Not really. Maybe someone is taking out our suspects by kidnapping or killing them, or they fled. But, the slime is extremely weird. Did our suspects put it here, or was it someone else? And, why is it even here? Joe: Exactly. I threw out the curse transformation idea because it is the most straightforward at this moment. The Grayscale College studies things like curses, and Jixi was part of that college, so there is an obvious connection there. Although, Im rethinking the curse angle at this moment. Curses have a lot of limitations to cast, and there are easier ways of dealing with people than cursing them. Lewis: Sounds like it is going to come down to the test result of the slime you sent off to the university. Do you have an estimate of when that''s gonna get done?" Joe: Was actually either tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow. Is when I was told when the test would be done. You can swing by my desk later that day if you want to know. Lewis: I think I''ll just read it in the report you write up later about it, he said, still not wanting to interact with Joe more than he had to. Joe: If that is everything, Ill get out of here and let the rest of you do your thing. Tony: Yeah, I just wanted to confirm if this slime was at another site. And Joe, thanks for coming. Joe nodded before walking off, with Alan following behind. Intermission XV All around Sofia, fire raged with unrelenting intensity. Homes were engulfed in flames, their wooden structures crackling and collapsing under the intense heat. The air was thick with smoke, making each breath a searing challenge and filling her lungs with acrid, choking fumes. The once-peaceful community of Gilla lay in ruins, transformed into a nightmarish landscape of destruction. At the center of the community lay Sofia on the ground holding a stab wound on her side while constantly applying first aid magic on it to prevent herself from bleeding out. All around her were the bodies of locals that were strung up brutality, impaled on pikes. Standing over her were a group of men in white robes, their figures looming menacingly in the flickering light of the flames. Their faces were obscured by hoods, casting dark shadows that concealed their features, but their presence a palpable threat. These men were the architects of the current tragedy that had befallen Gilla, their hands responsible for the deaths and inferno consuming the village. Robed Man: Fucking burning abyss! She managed to take out a dozen of us by herself before we got her! one of the robed men shouted. Not far from Sofia, a dozen men in white robes lay sprawled on the ground, their lifeless forms a testament to the fierce battle she had fought. She had cut them down herself, each strike precise and determined. However, amid the chaos, one of the robed men had managed to surprise her. With a sudden, brutal move, he had jabbed a dagger into her side. And now she found herself laying on the ground helpless, for if she stopped applying healing magic to fight these people, she would most likely bleed out. One of the men in the group stepped forward, his presence immediately distinguishing him from the others. Unlike his companions, who wore plain white robes, he was taller and adorned in more elaborate attire. He wore a striking silver mask, intricately designed and polished to a finish. The mask hinted at his elevated status within the group, setting him apart as their apparent leader. The man slowly removed his mask, revealing a bald head that shone under the fiery light. His face was marked by a prominent, square jawline and a pair of sharp, piercing eyes that conveyed a hardened, unyielding resolve. The look of grim determination etched across his features. The man was known to Sofia. He was an old friend to hers, Teddy Rova. Teddy: Sofia! We dont have to be enemies. Come join the purifiers, like Darra. Well forgive you for what you did today. Sofia: Are you fucking crazy! Join you? After what you did. Burning an entire town and impaling its people! Teddy: It had to be done! There were rumors of a powerful cultist in this community! We couldnt take any chances and had to kill everyone. Sofia: Even the children!! she screamed. Not too far away was what looked to be a child no older than five impaled on one the many pikes in the town square. Teddy: No chances! Everyone had to die! Sofia squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her hand tightly against her wound, trying to stifle the wave of pain that surged through her. The agony in her side was nothing compared to the emotional turmoil stirred by Teddys words. Hearing such betrayal from someone who had once been a dear friend struck her with profound distress. Sofia: I swore to my master, before she died, that I would carry on the fight against the Nameless Gods and their servants. And you, Teddy, and the purifiers are no better than them! Teddy only shook his head at Sofia''s declaration. Teddy: Shame. I wish it didnt have to be like this. Teddy pulled out a blade and started to approach Sofia, preparing to strike the final blow and end the witch hunter''s life.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Suddenly, an icy chill swept through, creeping up everyones spine like a ghostly caress. The atmosphere grew thick with an unsettling presence, a sensation so pervasive that it halted Teddy. Everyone present was a mage, each able to detect the subtle fluctuations of aether that permeated their surroundings. They could all sense the disturbance in the aira strange and unsettling fluctuation of magical energy that defied the usual patterns they were accustomed to. This aetheric shift felt different, imbued with an undercurrent of something sinister. Everyone could tell that a spell was being cast, and it was a powerful one. The once blazing orange flames consuming the building began to flicker erratically, as if reacting to the strangeness in the surrounding. Slowly, the vibrant hues of the fire started to shift, their brilliant orange giving way to an unnatural and foreboding emerald green. The change was striking, the green flames casting an eerie, otherworldly glow that seemed to distort the very air around them. The emerald flames danced with a malevolent grace, their light reflecting off the charred remnants of the building and casting unsettling shadows on the ground. The purifiers Sofia had taken down nearby started to rise, almost as if they had come back to life. Similarly, the locals impaled on pikes nearby began to squirm, as if they were still alive and struggling to free themselves. Their eyes now bore the same eerie glow as the surrounding emerald fire. Teddy: Necromancer! Everyone, take formation! he called out to his men. The group of purifiers quickly formed a tight, protective circle, their movements synchronized to eliminate any blind spots. Each member faced outward, their vigilant eyes scanning the perimeter as they tightened their formation. This defensive stance was crucial as they found themselves encircled. There were corpses all over the village and they were all rising one by one and encroaching on them. One of the purifiers concentrated, summoning an aether bolt of water into his hand. With a swift, precise motion, he hurled the charged projectile at one of the advancing undead figures. The bolt cut through the air heading towards the undead. The purifier expected the head of the undead to explode upon impact from his attack, but that did not happen. The undead had ducked and the attack had missed. Everyone that saw this was absolutely surprised. Undead normally have no sense of self preservation, and yet it had avoided an attack just now. The missed attack appeared to act as a signal, triggering an unexpected reaction from the undead. With a sudden, eerie clarity, the creatures that dodge the attack let out a guttural, bone-chilling moan that echoed through the night. In a startling departure from their usual slow, shuffling gait, the undead began to run with unnatural speed. Their previously sluggish movements were now replaced by a frantic, coordinated charge toward the purifiers. The charge and unusual behavior of the undead caused some of the purifiers to panic and start fire off spells haphazardly. Teddy: Dont panic, hold steady! He called out to his men. Despite Teddy''s commands, no one was paying heed. The purifiers continued to unleash their spells in rapid succession, each incantation erupting with a burst of magical energy sent flying forward. However, the majority of their attacks went astray, as the undead actively maneuvered to evade the incoming spells. Their movements were erratic and unpredictable, weaving and dodging with an unnatural agility that made targeting them increasingly difficult. The scene became a chaotic display of flashing lights and magic, with the undead relentlessly advancing upon the group. As one of the undead closed in on a purifier, it lunged at him, knocking him to the ground. The creature then sank its teeth into the purifier''s throat, overpowering him in a vicious attack. Purifier: Shit! shouted another purifier that was standing beside the one that got lunged at. In a swift motion, another purifier drew a blade and severed the head of the undead creature that was attacking his comrade. The decapitated body slumped over the fallen purifier it had been feeding on. The purifiers rushed to check on their fallen comrade, only to find a grievous wound on his throat and the absence of breath. Realizing the futility of trying to save their fallen comrade, they shifted focus back to the approaching horde of undead. However, to their shock, their deceased companion rose to his feet, his eyes now aglow with that eerie emerald light. The newly turned purifier launched a surprise attack on his former allies from behind, catching them off guard. Seeing that their fellow companions instantly turn into undead caused panic to fully set in. The line was breaking and some of the purifiers broke from formation to run for it. Teddy: Dont break formation, or were all dead! he cried out. It was too late, the purifiers that ran off were instantly swarmed. Their blood curdling screams sent chills as they were devoured. The defensive line shattered, and one by one, each purifier was seized by the undead and consumed. Sofia could only watch as the gruesome scene unfold before her eyes, aghast, as the group of purifiers was overwhelmed and devoured by the relentless horde of undead. Chapter 84 - Found Mold Two days had passed since Joe and his team began sifting through the documents that Sorin had gone through at the Archive. During that time, Archmage Dakka had sent Joe''s team a detailed list of items he wanted them to focus on while combing through the paperwork. Under normal circumstances, Joe might have ignored such an order; he hated feeling like he was being turned into a mere paper-pusher. However, this directive came from an archmage of the university, and it was difficult to refuse such a request. Currently, Joe, Dan, Sandra, and Mike were seated in the same private room at the Archive where they had first been led. Given the sheer volume of documents they needed to comb through, Joe decided it would be more efficient to meet at the Arcanium Archive instead of gathering at the police station or the university for now on. They had asked Sandra, the head librarian, if they could reserve the private room for the next week. She generously booked the room for an entire month and even offered to help them with the documents. Joe readily accepted her assistance, knowing it would greatly speed up the process and save them all valuable time. They were all currently combing through more books. Dan let out a long sigh. Dan: This isn''t as bad as the forms for the university, but its still tedious. How long is it going to take us to get through all this? he said while putting the book he was reading down to take a break. Sandra: Hmm, Id say based on the rate you are all going, about a week and half. Maybe before the end of the week if we pick up the pace, she said while continuing to flip through a book. Mike: Were more apt to miss something if we rush through this. Sandra: It will take at least two weeks if youre being thorough. Dan groaned inwardly. He glanced over at Joe with a pleading expression, hoping for some sort of reprieve or at least a change in their monotonous routine. Without even lifting his eyes from the dense tome he was engrossed in, Joe responded to Dan''s silent plea with a dismissive wave of his hand, as if to say, "Get back to work." Joe: Dont look at me like that. Id weasel us out of this if I could, but I cant this time. Im on thin ice with Murdock during this whole investigation. Mike: Look at it this way, Dan. We could be filling out forms for the university or doing he said before being interrupted by Dan. Dan: OK. Ill get back to it, he said, not even entertaining Mike''s idea of going back to filling out university forms. Mike: Ah, sure. By the way, where are the enforcers that were assigned to our unit? We would be able to get through this faster with them here. Joe: Two of the enforcers that were assigned to our unit will not be showing up for a few days. Theyre students and still need to attend classes. So, Im not gonna try and push work on them. Besides, its not looking like our group in specific is doing anything urgent or going to see any action during this Jixi investigation. Were being relegated to paperwork duty by the looks of it. Mike: Only for a week, two at maximum. Joe: Eh, might be longer than that. If we dont find anything interesting, I think Archmage Dakka will make us go through Sorins entire catalog of books he took out. Mike: Oh, great. Just want I wanted to hear. Dan: But, haven''t we found enough information? Archmage Dakka wants us to find out what Sorin learned about soul binding magic, and how he was capable of casting it. Havent we already found all that info already? he said, referring to all the information they had already gathered so far. Joe: Im not actually sure about that. I don''t know what Sorin was like as a person, but from what we''ve learned about soul binding magic so far, it would suggest he was insane to cast it. Its extremely dangerous to cast. You risk accidentally ripping out your own soul when you use it. I see why the Archmage suspected Rattle Bone cult involvement. You would either have to be insane or an extremely talented necromancer. To which, the Rattle Bone cult has both in spades. Mike: So, you''re thinking Sorin might have uncovered something to give him the confidence in performing soul bind magic? Joe: I dont know yet for sure. But, you know me. Leave no stone unturned. Mike: Yeah, and that drive to methodically look over every small detail can really bite us in the ass sometimes. It''s adding an extra week to our search because of it. Sandra: Um, anyways. You said two of the enforcers on your team werent going to be here. But, last time you came here I saw three. So, where is that member of your group? she said, trying to change the subject. Mike: Thats a good point. Where is the senior enforcer? The one I believe you told me was named Rell. Joe: He should be here soon. Rell was going to pick up the lab result from the alchemy department at the university. Mike: Oh, is that about the slime substance you found at Larrys home? Joe: The same one. And, speak of the devil. The door to the private room creaked open, revealing Rell in his familiar white and gray enforcer uniform, circular glasses perched on his nose. A brown folder rested in his hand. His eyes swept across the room, briefly scanning each person before locking onto Mike. Without a word, he made his way toward him, his footsteps measured and deliberate. Rell: Hello, you must be Mike, he said while extending his hand out. Mike: I am. You must be Rell, he said as he gave Rell a firm handshake. Rell: It''s nice to finally meet you. I was told I should be reporting to you while part of this team.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Joe: Thats not necessarily. Im the leader. So, if you have anything to report you should tell me. Rell briefly looked at Joe and then back at Mike. Rell: I was told I should be reporting to you while part of this team, he repeated again at Mike, ignoring Joe. Mike: Thats probably for the best. Rell: Hmm, I can already tell youre a lot more professional. Yes, working with you will be a lot easier. Mike: Yeah, I get that a lot with people. Mostly because the other people I work with aredifficult. Rell: I understand. You have my sympathies. Joe: Oh, ha, ha, ha. It so fucking funny to ignore Joe while subtly making jabs at him, he said facetiously. Mike: Well, you do it to yourself with the rep you built up. Joe started to quietly grumble. Joe: Whatever. Anyway, did you get the lab results? he asked Rell. Rell: I got them here, he said while holding up the folder. Rell placed the brown folder on the table and pushed it toward Joe. It slid smoothly across the surface until it came to a stop in front of him. Joe picked up the folder, flipped it open, and began to read. Joe: Did they tell you what they found or did you just grab this and come straight here, he said while skimming the papers. Rell: I had a lengthy conversation with the lab worker. Joe: Do you mind explaining to everyone the results? Rell: I could, but he said as he looked towards Sandra. Sandra glanced around and could easily tell they were about to discuss something she wasnt meant to hear. Sandra: I can leave the room if this is private. But, we have to lock up all the books we have out here before I do. Since, you still havent gotten level four access yet. Joe: No, that''s fine. Rell, it''s OK to just say what you found out. Sandra is helping us out and she knowing what we know wont cause any problems. Rell shifted his gaze to Mike, his eyes expectant, waiting for him to weigh in with his opinion. But, Mike remained silent, offering only a nod of agreement with Joe. Rell let out a long sigh. Rell: The alchemy department ran some tests on the slime we found. I thought it was mucus when we first found it, but its not. Dan: What is it then? Rell: Its a type of slime mold. Joe: Mold? he said, sounding surprised. Rell: I know, I was surprised too. And, it wasn''t just me. The people running the test were surprised as well. None of them expected it to be mold just based on its appearance. Mike: Did they identify what kind of mold it was? Rell: That was the thing that really confused the alchemy department. They identify it as a type of mold known as rot slime, but had none of the characteristics of it. Apparently, rot slime is supposed to be bright green and stink horribly, this type of rot slime we found was neither. They wouldnt have even considered this rot slime if the test they ran didnt confirm it. The researcher I was talking to thinks we might have found an entirely new species of rot slime. Joe: Rot slime I feel like Ive heard of this stuff from somewhere. Rell: Well, it is something used by researchers and necromancers. It apparently is mostly used to strip flesh from bone. It does this by eating only the soft matter of a corpse. Sandra: Oh, yes. Rot slime is very effective at removing flesh from bones without damaging them. Excellent if you want to study the skeletal structure of an organism or make a skeleton for necromantic uses Joe: I touched that slime with my bare hands. Am I going to be OK? Rell: Theres nothing dangerous about rot slime, even this weird variant of it we found. It takes weeks and months to dissolve flesh. Joe: Hmm, a type of mold slime that is popular with necromancers to clean bones. It''s definitely leading down the path of possibly Rattle Bone cult involvement. I take it this stuff doesn''t naturally grow in cities. Sandra: No, I believe it grows deep in dark forests. Joe: Is it cultivated at all? Rell: Yes, but the only ones who cultivate it nearby is the university itself for various types of alchemical purposes as well as for research. And, the university has to do it outside the city limits, because of how foul it smells." Mike: That bad, eh. Rell: Indeed, the researcher I was talking to said it smelled like something died twice over in its own excrement. Dan: Ewwww, he responded from Rells visual description. Joe: Is it possible you can arrange a meeting with the people at the university who grow this stuff? Rell: Yeah, I could probably talk to the botanist division and arrange something by tomorrow. Joe: Good. This might be our only legitimate lead right now. But, the question remains, why was it at the location of our suspects? For Larry, it kinda made sense. You said that rot slime has a few alchemical uses, so Larry selling it wouldnt be strange, but that rot slime showed up in another suspect''s home. Mike: Also, this morning another Sleuth-Hawk group reported finding more slime in the location of another suspect''s home. Joe: Yeah, I heard. I was suspecting it before, but now Im certain. Someone is taking out our suspects, making them disappear. If it really is Rattle Bone, then they''re probably already dead. But, we dont know for sure. That slime is this weird factor that seems to be present in these three missing suspects. Could it be Jixi himself? But, if hes a coward, that doesn''t line up with his character. Hed most likely be hiding somewhere, and then why even eliminate these people? Even if we capture these people who worked with Sorin, the cat is already out of the bag. Whether or not they squeal, doesn''t change Jixi''s guilt. Mike: It might be that these people might know where Jixis hiding. And, thats why they''re being taken out. Joe: Hmm, thats possible. Still doesn''t line up with his character though. Dan: Could the slime be used to like, I dont know, hide a body? Like dissolving their flesh and leaving only bone. Cause if were dealing with Rattle Bone cultists, they might kill someone and use the slime to clean the bones for easier transportation. Joe: Too slow. Rell said it takes weeks to dissolve the flesh, and a Rattle Bone cultist would just collect the body whole and strip the flesh somewhere else. They carry around these things called bone bags that can store corpses. Joe sat there, deep in thought, sifting through the new information he had received. He carefully arranged the details in his mind, trying to connect the dots and uncover a pattern that would make sense of everything he knew so far. His instincts told him that someone was systematically eliminating suspects, and he felt more certain of it with each passing moment. Yet, the method remained a complete mystery. The pieces were there, but they refused to fit together. A strange slime mold thats never been seen before. Hmm, maybe I should follow this up with a mold expert. See if they can give more details to work off. Does the university have an expert like that? Wait a minute, dont I know someone like that? Joe silently thought to himself. It then dawned on Joe that he did know someone he could talk to about the strange variant of rot slime. Joe: I think I have a lead. Mike: Wanna explain? Joe: Later. Im going to go look into this now. Can the rest of you stay here and keep working through this? he said quickly. Mike: I guess? But, where are you going? It better not be dangerous. Joe: No, just going to go talk to a mold expert we both know, he said as he walked past Rell and exited the room. Mike: Do we know a mold expert? he said, confused by Joe''s comment. Mike sat there, mulling over Joe''s words, his mind still piecing together the rapid exchange that had just taken place. Suddenly, it dawned on himhe had just absentmindedly agreed to let Joe walk off, leaving all the paperwork for him and the rest of the team to handle. Joe had asked so casually and left so quickly that Mike hadnt even registered what happened until now. The realization settled in like a slow wave, and Mike could feel his anger rising. Mike: That fucking ASSHOLE! He just weaseled out of this paperwork!! Chapter 85 - More Than A Coincident In the spacious lecture hall, Professor Hele Meti stood at the front, delivering an intricate lecture on the art of enchantment magic. Her voice carried through the room as she delved into the nuanced complexities of the craft, explaining the subtleties of this magic. Amidst the scattered students, Sere and Alan sat alone, as they often did, quietly listening but keeping to themselves. Hele: As you know, most magic is only temporary in its effect. Enchantment magic is an entire branch of magic trying to make those temporal effects permanent. Although, we say that enchantment magic is permanent, its more apt to say its long-lasting. The reality is that all enchantments have an expiration date. It is just that any enchantment that lasts longer than a hundred years is labeled permanent, even though the enchantment will eventually break down. Now, does anyone know another interesting trait about enchantment magic? A Silverwing student raised her hand, which Professor Hele pointed at to answer. Silverwing Student: Objects that are enhanced are indestructible. Hele: That is partly correct. Enchantment magic does naturally make objects a lot more resilient, but not necessarily indestructible. That resilience is determined by the type of enchantment placed on an object. Its often mistaken that enchanted items are indestructible because the permanent enchantments, the ones that last longer than a hundred years, have such a high resilience. Does anyone know any other interesting traits? The room fell into a profound silence in response to Hele''s question. Each person seemed at a loss, unable to find anything to contribute. Hele: Hmm, I see. Well, another trait of enchantment magic I want you all to take note of is that enchantment magic cannot be applied to living creatures. The enchantment magic doesn''t adhere very well to anything organic, and is nearly impossible when you''re enchanting something that is alive. Now that weve covered the basics, I want you all to have a go at enchanting something. Hele made a gesture, and some papers with a white piece of quartz appeared in front of everyone in the classroom. Hele: In front of you are instructions on how to enchant the piece of quartz in front of you. Before any of you leave, I want you all to enchant the quartz to make it glow an orange light. Lionheart Student: Excuse me, professor? the student called out while raising her hand. Hele: Yes? Lionheart Student: But, does not enchanting something take a long time to do? Wont we be here all day if you want us to enchant this? Hele: Ah, yes. First-time enchanters always take a while, but dont worry. The quartz I have supplied you is already partly enchanted. All of you are just finishing it. It should take you around an hour. Now then, like our last practical lesson, if anyone is struggling, I shall come help you, she said while gesturing for everyone to start. Alan and Sere picked up the instructions and began reading through the steps for enchanting the piece of quartz. According to the instructions and the professor''s earlier explanation, the quartz was already partially enchanted. The purpose of this exercise was for the students to analyze the existing enchantment, identify the incomplete section, and use their own aether to fill in the gaps, thereby completing and activating the enchantment. Alan: Hmm, I think I get it. Sere: Yeah, it seems pretty simple. Sere and Alan picked up the stones they had been given and began to carefully examine them, turning them over in their hands and scrutinizing every angle. They focused intently, trying to discern how the aether had been woven into the stone''s structure. They sensed faint traces of energy, but understanding the enchantment''s intricacies proved challenging. The minutes ticked byten, then fifteenand still, no one in the class had managed to make any progress in enhancing the stones. Sere, in particular, was growing increasingly frustrated. She felt as though she had examined the stone a hundred times over, her eyes tracing the same faint patterns again and again, yet she seemed no closer to grasping the mechanics of the enchantment. Several more minutes passed in tense silence as the students continued their attempts, frustration mounting with each failure. Then, without warning, a soft orange glow began to emanate from one of the quartz stones. Heads turned, and a murmur spread through the room. Alan had been the first to successfully complete the enchantment. The quartz in his hand pulsed with a warm, steady light, a sign that the aether had been successfully woven into the stone''s existing enchantment, filling the gaps perfectly. His face lit up with a mix of surprise and pride as he realized what he had accomplished. Alan: I got it! he said, feeling proud of himself that he did it before Sere. Sere: How did you do that? Alan: Heh, your aether control might be amazing, but I got really good aether sensitivity. And aether sensitivity seems like it is more important for this. Alan had always possessed a high sensitivity to aether, a trait that had set him apart from others since he was a young boy. Unlike most, who could only perceive the faint hum of aetheric energy, Alan could feel its presence with remarkable clarity. He could sense its ebb and flow, its subtle shifts and ripples in the air, and he had an uncanny ability to discern the nature of a spell before it was even cast. What seemed to others like uncanny intuition or a gut feeling was often Alans heightened sensitivity to aether at work, warning him of things to come or guiding his actions in subtle ways. This natural gift of Alans was proving invaluable in his current lesson. Sere: I helped you out last time, wanna give me some tips? Alan: Sure. Try to feel out the aether in the quartz. There are lines, or paths, weaved all over it. You just gotta follow it until Alan''s was abruptly interrupted when the quartz in front of him began to flicker. The steady orange glow that had signaled his success wavered, then, with a sudden shift, the quartz transitioned from its warm, vibrant hue to a muted white glow. The change was unexpected and immediate, as if the aether within the stone had become unstable or was responding to a new, unforeseen force. Alan: Um, whats going on? Sere: Miss Hele, we have an issue. she called out to the professor. Hele heard Sere call out and started to approach the both of them. Hele: What seems to bewah? she said, sounding confused. Hele noticed the quartz glowing a faint white and felt a jolt of confusion. She stared at it, her brow furrowing, as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Hele: Why in the world is it glowing white? she said as she picked up the quartz. Hele rotated the stone a few times in her hand, carefully examining it. Hmm, if only I could consult Alexandria on this. Sere: Who? Hele: Just someone who developed this training method, dont worry about it. Alan, correct? Alan: Yes? Hele: Tell me, have you done any elemental affinity test? Alan: Um, yeah. A long time ago, before I entered the university. Hele: Did you get any weird results? Alan: No, I was just told I had an affinity for wind, vitos, and fire. Hele: Have you done an advanced affinity test? Alan: No. Hele: You may want to do that sometime after this lesson. Alan: Why? I already know my elemental affinities. Hele: Sometimes people have unique qualities to their affinity or aether. And those qualities can sometimes bleed over into their spell crafting, causing unexpected effects, like with the quartz enchantment. Alan: You think I have some sort of weird quality to my magic? Hele: Possibly. This is twice now in my lessons, you have demonstrated an unexpected phenomenon with your magic. Once is a coincidence, twice hints at something potentially more. An advanced affinity test would help you find out if you have any unique qualities. The university provided free testing for any attending students. So, no reason not to. Alan: OK, once I get a chance, Ill do that. Hele: Good. Well, regardless, Ill still consider this a success. You may leave now if you wish, she said before walking off to help someone else. Although Alan was free to leave, but chose to stay behind to help Sere until she successfully enchanted her stone. He patiently guided her, pointing out nuances in the flow of aether and suggesting small adjustments to her technique. Despite his steady focus on assisting her, his eyes kept drifting back to the white-glowing quartz he had enchanted earlier. Each time he glanced at it, he felt a strange sensation, like an unseen presence watching him from just beyond his field of vision. ?????????????????? Beside one of the expansive dining halls, Alan and his friends had managed to secure a private rooma cozy space with a table and several chairs that students could use to eat and study in peace. Alan, seated at the table, was in the middle of stuffing his face with some fried potatoes smothered in cheese and gravy, which he and Jafar had picked up from the cafeteria for themselves. Jafar, sitting beside him, was equally absorbed in his meal. Across from them, Sere was seated, enjoying a much lighter optiona fresh salad. Alan: Food on campus isn''t as good as Bennys, he said while stuffing his face. Sere: "Nothing we can do about that. If we go off campus, were likely to get swarmed by reporters." Jafar let out a tired sigh. Jafar: Tell me about it. The fame we got was great for like two seconds until they showed. Sere: So, when are you gonna do that affinity test? she said, directed at Alan and changing the subject. Alan attempted to answer Seres question, but a chunk of food in his mouth slipped down the wrong pipe, instantly triggering a violent coughing fit. His face turned red as he choked and sputtered, hacking loudly while bits of half-chewed food flew from his mouth. After a few agonizing seconds and several thumps on his chest, he finally cleared his throat enough to catch his breath, his eyes watering from the ordeal. Only then did he manage to croak out a response. Alan: Sorry, he apologized for coughing. Um, not sure. There is just no free time for me. When Im doing classes. Im helping the enforcers. I guess it will have to be whenever I can get a free moment. Sere: What do you think is up with the weirdness thats going on with you during the general magic class? Alan: Not sure. Never had something like this happen to me before. Jafar: Sometimes weird affinities with your aether can manifest later in life. Ive heard of people losing or gaining an elemental affinity randomly. Sere: If our professor thinks it has something to do with your affinity or aether, then its important. It could cause problems later down the line. It might be better to get that looked at sooner rather than later. Alan: I will. Just gotta figure out this Sleuth-Hawks thing first. Sere: Speaking of that, how''s that going? Alan: It was exactly as I was worried about, weve been relegated to paper duty. Jafar: Yeah, it does seem like that. Sere: Why are they making you do a bunch of administrative paperwork? Alan: It is not that. We''re going through a bunch of documents that Sorin took out at the Archive. Sere: Oh, I see what you mean. Yeah, I imagine Alans struggling with that. Youre not a big reader. Alan: Its not that. And, I dont mind reading! Just not a big fan of reading a bunch of books on theory. Sere: Then whats the issue? Jafar: Were not really making any progress. And, more work gets piled on by Mitra and Archmage Dakka. Alan: Yeah, it feels like they''re locking us away in a room with a bunch of paper to read while everybody else is getting real action, with no chance for us to rack up merit. Sere: Eh, not every job or task is exciting. Im sure your time will eventually come. Alan: Maybe if it felt like we were making some sort of contribution. We havent really found anything meaningful during the hours were working for the Sleuth-Hawks. Sere: Well, if you''re feeling like working as an enforcer, why dont you do something in your off hours. Alan: What do you mean? Sere: Like, you two have the enforcer uniform and badges. The both of you could go around campus asking people questions and gathering more information that you can then add to your investigation. No one would bat an eye at you questioning anyone, even other professors. And, no one would be able to refuse answering you because of your enforcer status. Jafar: Are we even allowed to do that? Sere: I dont know. You tell me. Alan: Hmm, I never thought of that. Yeah, thats not actually a bad idea. Jafar: Um, maybe not that great of an idea. Im sure the enforcers have already interviewed every person related to Sorin. Any information we collected by talking to people on campus would be redundant at this point. And, talking to random people would be even less helpful than what were doing at the Archive. Alan: Oh, yeah you''re right. It might be a waste of time. Im sure they talked to everyone related to Sorin, like you said. Alan stared down at his plate, his eyes fixed on the mess of cheese-covered potatoes as his thoughts drifted elsewhere. His brow furrowed, and after a moment of silence, he let out a long, weary sigh. For a brief moment, he had felt a spark of excitement at the idea of discovering another way to make a meaningful contribution to the investigationan uncharted path that could prove valuable. However, Jafars calm and rational perspective had grounded him again, pulling him back from his daydreams and reminding him of the need to stay focused and practical. The flicker of excitement faded, replaced by the familiar weight of reality. Alan: Its too bad that we dont know anyone who the enforcer wouldnt think to talk to... Waitthere is someone. Jafar: Who are you talking about? Alan: The one person they would never think to ask. Someone we all promise to never talk about. It took a second, but the realization hit Sere like a bolt of lightningshe instantly knew who Alan was talking about. A wave of panic and fear began to crash over her. Sere: ALAN! NO! Hell kill you! she yelled. Jafar: I-If you''re talking about who I think you are, then Sere is absolutely right. We cant talk to him, he said nervously. Alan: But, he obviously knows something. Im sure he knows where Jixi is. Jafar: We dont even know that for sure. Its too dangerous. Alan: I know, thats why Ill go talk to him by myself. If he gets mad at me approaching him, he should only go after me, he said as he stood up and walked out of the private room. Both Sere and Jafar exchanged a tense glance, their expressions betraying their uncertainty and nervousness. For a moment, hesitation flickered between them, but they ultimately steeled themselves and decided to follow after Alan. They weren''t about to let their friend face that person alone. Intermission XVI Within the burning emerald flames of Gilla, the sound of someone''s whistle echoed out amongst the sound of cracking fire and moans of the undead. The whistling was of a happy tune, a stark contrast to the grim activities going on. The undead had swarmed the purifiers, overpowering them and bringing about their demise. Subsequently, the undead began to feed on the fallen, tearing into their flesh. Despite lacking functional stomachs, they were driven by an insatiable hunger to consume the flesh until only bones remained in their wake. A man with short blond hair and dressed in simple black robes casually walked through the devastation while whistling. His demeanor was remarkably calm and composed amidst the chaos, his steps unhurried as if he were merely strolling through a park rather than a scene of utter destruction. The flickering emerald flames cast an eerie glow on his face, highlighting the contrast between his tranquil presence and the surrounding havoc. Unfazed by the man''s presence, the undead of the ravaged town carried on with their activities as he strode through the desolate streets, their vacant gazes fixed on unknown horizons, indifferent to the living that remained. He walked past a group of undead, their grotesque forms now turning on each other in a gruesome display of cannibalistic frenzy. The creatures, once united in their relentless pursuit of the living, were now tearing into one another with savage abandon. Their decayed hands and claws ripping at rotting flesh. The man in the black robes observed this spectacle with an unsettling detachment, his expression unchanging as he moved through the chaos. In the center of the town, the reanimated corpses of the purifiers roamed aimlessly, engaging in the grotesque ritual of consuming each other''s flesh. Among them, one undead purifier had deteriorated to a skeletal state, yet it persistently attempted to feed on flesh, with the consumed tissue slipping through its rib cage in a futile display of its insatiable hunger. Uninterested by the presence of the undead surrounding him, the man''s gaze was drawn to a figure propped against a nearby wall. It was Sofia Firemane, miraculously still alive. Beside her lay the remnants of Teddy, the once leader of the group of purifiers, now reduced to a lifeless shell. From the remnants of a child, an undead creature was in the process of consuming what little remained of Teddy. Despite the gruesome scene unfolding before her, Sofia could only watch in horror as she concentrated on channeling healing magic to mend her own stab wound, her focus torn between her own survival and the events surrounding her. The man approached Sofia, paying no mind to the undead creature that was feasting right beside her. Man?: Sofia Firemane! The last disciple, depending on who you ask, of the famous Betty Vo. What an honor to meet someone as famous as yourself, he said with a bow. Sofia took in a deep breath, causing her wound to sting as she did so. She gave such a glare of fury at the necromancer in front of her. Sofia: Who are you? Vrax: Oh, how rude of me. My name is Vrax Willow of the Rattle Bone cult. Sofia: Who? she asked again, sounding genuinely confused. The necromancer before her was an exceptionally powerful necromancer, the most powerful one she had ever come across. The magic Vrax cast was extraordinarily potent, its power evident in the transformation of the surrounding flames to an eerie, emerald greena mere by-product of his immense magical powers. The ability to invert the natural properties of fire into such a sinister hue hinted at an almost unimaginable level of sorcery, the kind capable of warping the environment with residual effects. Observing the nature of the undead, Sofia also noted that the creatures Vrax had summoned exhibited a higher baseline intelligence than typical undead. These were not the mindless drones usually associated with necromancy; they moved with disturbing coordination and awareness. Creating undead of this sophistication normally required extensive preparation and time, yet Vrax had conjured them spontaneously, as if it were a trivial feat. Using such an advanced necromancy this quickly would typically necessitate the collaboration of a group of skilled practitioners or the intervention of an exceptionally powerful Archmage. Given the lack of any visible accomplices, Sofia could only conclude that Vrax had accomplished this act of dark magic on his own. This left Sofia both awed and deeply concerned, realizing the true extent of Vrax''s arcane capabilities. With such a powerful necromancer, she thought the person in front of her might have been somelike like Vince Neev. But, this was someone unheard of. She knew all the infamous necromancers in the western continent, and the name Vrax has never come up. Vrax: Hmm, I guess you wouldnt have heard of me. I prefer to let my art speak for itself. Speaking of which, tell me what you think of my latest work. I call it Gilla: The Burning by Purifiers for Purity, he said while gesturing to undead and surrounding devastation. Sofia: Youre fucking insane. Vrax: Youre right. It''s a terrible name. Its too wordy. Thats why I dont like naming my pieces. Tell me, what do you think I should call it. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Sofia: Why are you doing this? Vrax: Why? Isn''t it obvious? A pause settled over the conversation as Sofie remained silent, her lack of response indicating she hadn''t grasped the full meaning of Vrax''s words. The air between them grew tense, the crackling of the distant emerald flames the only sound breaking the silence. Vrax''s eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of impatience flashing across his face as he studied her expression. Vrax let out a sigh. Vrax: I thought you would understand. You spend so much time hunting us down, yet you dont understand us. Obviously, it is for them, he said while pointing at the undead purifiers. Sofia: You wanted to kill them? Vrax: No, stupid. Their bones! The bones of men that believed they''re righteous, yet do evil. The hypocrisy of good and evil encapsulated. Its beautiful, and with those bones I can make such a great piece for my next showing. It is why I spread that rumor of my presence here. I knew it would draw in the purifiers. I had heard the group that broke off from the witch hunters were radical and extreme, and they did not disappoint. Never in my wildest dream did I think they would burn and kill a whole village to find me. It even gave me the opportunity to meet someone as famous as you. Sofia: Bastard! This is all your faul ugh! she groaned as pain from the wound flared up from yelling. Vrax: Hardly, I didnt make them act on anything. I just put a rumor out there and they did the rest. If they had come here and didnt do anything, then I wouldnt have done anything either. Anyway, back to the name. What do you think I should call this piece? Sofia: Just get this over with. Vrax: Hmm? Sofia: I know youre going to kill me. Vrax: Ah, yes. Im sure many a Rattle Bone cultist would salivate at the opportunity to collect the bones of Sofia Firemane, the last disciple of the famous Betty Vo. It''s something predictable we would do. But, I''M NOT PREDICTABLE! he screamed. As he yelled, the surrounding emerald fire seemed to respond and burn slightly with more intensity. After Vrax''s sudden outburst, he quickly returned to a relaxed demeanor with an unsettling smile. Vrax: As an artist, you can accuse me of many things, but I refuse to be called predictable. Art should be random, spontaneous, transformative, andunpredictable. So, Im not going to kill you. No, instead, youll be my chaotic element that I add to a different art piece. Sofia: You think Im going to help you? Vrax: Yes. For you see, I''m not predictable, but you are. It is so easy to move you to my will like a puppet on a string. Sofia: Fuck you. Vrax: Hehehe, did I touch a nerve? What a predictable response. So, listen closely. In Golgatta there is a major gathering of cultists from a bunch of different cults. They''re planning something big. At least two of the big three are involved somehow. Unfortunately, Im busy. Otherwise, all of the big three would be there. And since I cant play at this gathering, you should go there and fuck everything up. It will be so funny if you do. Sofia remained silent, her lips pressed tightly together as she grappled with the weight of Vrax''s words. Her face bore a complex expression, a mixture of skepticism, fear, and a flicker of curiosity. She studied the man before her, trying to discern the truth behind his grandiose claims and the madness that seemed to lurk just beneath the surface of his calm demeanor. Vrax: Ohhh, is the little witch hunter unsure if she should believe me," he said mockingly. You should just give up on that defiant attitude you got going on there. I know youll go there and do something. Youre a goody-toe shoe, like your teacher. And, to add even more chaos and motivation to take this information seriously, he said as he got close to Sofia. Your fellow disciple turned traitor, Darra, is also in Golgatta, he whispered in Sofias ear. Sofia had a look of shock on her face upon hearing that. Sofia: How do you know that? Vrax''s smile deepened before using spatial magic to reach into a pocket space and pulled out a caged lantern with a mental chain. An ominous green flame burned within it. Sofias face turned pale. She knew exactly what this was: a soul lantern. This sinister object, used to trap and store a person''s very soul, radiated an eerie, otherworldly green glow. The lantern Vrax held was not empty; it housed a soul, its flickering light pulsing with a faint, haunting luminescence that hinted at the tortured existence within. Vrax: Teddy told me! I bound his soul when he died. Its amazing the things people will tell you to free themselves from a soul lantern. Sofia trembled, overwhelmed by a torrent of conflicting emotions. Her hatred for Teddy burned fiercely for the devastation he had wrought upon Gilla and its innocent inhabitants. Yet, as she stared at the soul lantern in Vraxs hand, a deep sense of sorrow and pity welled up within her. Despite Teddys unforgivable actions, she could not bring herself to believe that he deserved such a ghastly fate. The thought of his soul being bound and trapped in a state of perpetual torment, was a punishment beyond any crime. It was a cruelty that defied the bounds of Sofias justice and humanity. Vrax put the soul lantern back into his pocket space and then pulled out what looked like a roll of bandages. Vrax: Here, this is some mycelium mesh. Im sure you know what to do with that, he said while gently tossing the bandages at Sofia. Make sure to survive and get your revenge on Darra while messing up a bunch of cults'' plans. Oh, how I wish I could watch the chaos youll bring. But, I have a very important meeting with a dear friend to make. So, farewell. It was an honor meeting you. Vrax clapped his hands. Instantly, all the undead in the area halted their actions and turned to face him, their grotesque forms still. Vrax began to whistle a haunting, melodic tune. As the eerie notes filled the air, he started to walk away, his steps measured and unhurried. The undead fell into line behind him, their movements synchronized as they followed their master with an almost military-like precision. Sofia watched, a mixture of relief and unease flooding her senses. The emerald flames that had cast an eerie, otherworldly glow over the scene began to flicker and wane. Slowly, they shifted back to their natural orange hue, the transformation almost as unsettling as the initial change. Even after Vrax''s departure and his disappearance from Sofia''s sight, his haunting whistle could still be heard. Minutes ticked by before that haunting whistle began to fade into the distant night, leaving Sofia the sole living person in the smoldering remnants of Gilla. Chapter 86 - Unknown Forces Inside the sprawling halls of the Graheel University Library, a sea of people moved about or sat hunched over at tables, immersed in their tasks. Most were students, diligently researching a wide range of topics for their studies. Some flipped through thick tomes, while others took furious notes. Their brows furrowed with concentration as they delved into their academic pursuits. The atmosphere buzzed with quiet intensity, filled with the rustling of pages and the soft murmurs of whispered discussions. Cid sat alone in one of the private study rooms of the library, deliberately isolating himself from the bustling crowd outside. Surrounded by scattered notes and half-finished calculations, he pored over the Book of Grand Design, meticulously comparing its cryptic information to his findings. He had posed a question to the book and attempted to calculate an answer to: Why are my calculations sometimes wrong? Yet, when he sought clarity on this, the book offered no meaningful response. The equations it provided suggested that his calculations were accurate, but Cid knew this was false. There were clear instances where his predictions failedpeople who were supposed to be in specific locations at certain times simply werent there. As the weeks went by, he uncovered more discrepancies. Each time he tested the book''s power on different individuals, he found an unsettling pattern: some of his calculations were correct, while others inexplicably diverged from expectation. The more he tested, the more he realized that the books power wasnt as straightforward or reliable as he had initially thought. He just couldnt predict some people. After countless hours of frustration and dead ends, he finally experienced a monumental breakthrough in understanding the book''s power. For a long time, the book had remained stubbornly opaque, refusing to reveal the nature of its mysteries or why his calculations failed. Cid had grown convinced that the book was deliberately withholding its secrets from him. But now, he realized the truth: like his interactions with John, the problem wasn''t with the bookit was with the questions he had been asking. He hadnt been framing his inquiries in the right way. Cid changed the way he framed his question and, at last, received an answer. This time, he asked, Why does the outcome of my predictions differ from what I observe? That, it seemed, was the key he had been missing. With this new approach, the Book of Grand Design finally began to divulge its secrets. The pages seemed to pulse with new energy as they filled with intricate symbols, equations, and diagrams that had previously eluded him. Suddenly, it became clear that the problem wasnt with his calculations themselves, but with the variables he hadn''t accounted forthe unseen forces, hidden influences, and complexities that shaped reality in ways beyond his initial understanding. Cid carefully completed the final steps of a complex calculation on a separate sheet of paper, his hand moving with almost mechanical precision. Once he was done, he compared the mathematical formula he had meticulously written down to the eldritch symbols and cryptic script etched across the pages of the Book of Grand Design. His eyes darted back and forth between his notes and the book, searching for any discrepancies or signs of alignment. After a long moment, he leaned back in his chair, exhaling a deep, weary sigh. So thats it. Destiny and Fate are two natural forces that work in conjunction to determine the future. But, fate doesn''t seem to exist anymore for some reason, leaving destiny as the only force controlling the future. Destiny by itself is not enough to completely control the future. This results in powerful forces being able to influence and warp living creatures'' futures in a way that is difficult to impossible to predict. Cid silently thought to himself. Cid crossed his arms and continued to further ponder what he discovered. Thats why I cant predict the cause and effect on some people, they''re being influenced by powerful forces. I guess that is also why I cant really predict my own future very well. Mr Li is probably one of those powerful forces, and my proximity to him warps my future. Then there was one student I couldnt predict that I discovered during Edwards calculation. I think whats influencing him was a celestial constellation, born under the star of the noble swordsman, that might be enough to warp a person''s future. Born with a strong connection to the stars above. But then, what about those three? I dont think any of them were born with any particular strong connection to the stars, so what is it then? Cid continued to silently think to himself. While pondering what he had recently learned, he heard the door to the room open, and he looked up to see who was entering. Cid: Speak of the devil. Alan and his friends stepped into the private study room, the door creaking softly as it swung open. Alan and Sere tried to maintain a brave face, their expressions were set with determination, though a hint of unease flickered in their eyes. Their third companion, however, couldnt manage the same level of composure; his face was pale, and his eyes darted nervously around the room, betraying his anxiety. He fidgeted with his hands, clearly struggling to steady his breathing, his unease palpable in contrast to Alan and Sere. Alan: Can we speak to you? Cid: Why are you here? I thought I said let''s never speak to each other again. Alan: I know, but we need your help. Cid: No, he said flatly. Alan: At least hear me out. Cid: Whatever you''re doing doesn''t involve me anymore. Sere: Like burning abyss it doesn''t involve you. Everything that happened is because you killed Sorin! Jafar pulled Sere''s arm, trying to gesture to her not to antagonize Cid and calm her down, for fear he would kill them. Cid: This is all related to Sorin? Why? Hes dead. He shouldn''t be relevant anymore. Ever since Cid had identified and eliminated Sorin, he had distanced himself from the entire ordeal, determined to wash his hands of the situation. According to the Book of Grand Design, whatever remnants or consequences were tied to Sorin''s grotesque experiments wouldnt pose a threat to him or Mr. Li. With that assurance, Cid had allowed himself to become indifferent to the university''s ongoing investigation into the incident. He knew they were hunting down anyone connected to Sorin, combing through every lead and association, but beyond that, he hadnt paid much attention. Cid''s priority was elsewherefollowing Johns advice, he was more focused on staying hidden and keeping a low profile. He kept his head down, acting like a normal student, with his thoughts entirely on his own safety and staying out of the university''s line of sight. Only experimenting with the Book of Grand Design in a subtle way, so as not to attract attention. Alan: Do you not know about the Jixi investigation?Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Cid: Who? Sere: How do you not know about Jixi? He was helping Sorin turn people into undead. Cid: Sorin was my only target. Everyone else was irrelevant. Alan: So you didnt stop Sorin for any righteous reason then. Cid: That was a byproduct. Sorin''s removal was for personal reasons. Alan: Still, despite what you say, your actions speak louder than your words. I dont think you''re a bad guy. You could have killed us in the library back then, but you didnt. No one would have even known if you did. And the people you did hurt weren''t actually people. They were Sorins puppets. Cid: OK? Alan: What Im trying to say is that we need your help finding Jixi and the other people related. So please, Its for a good cause. Cid leaned back in his chair and eyed the three who had entered his study room, his expression a mix of wariness and calculation. Alan, standing at the front, looked sincere and resolutehis determination almost radiated off him. This was not a good sign from Cid''s perspective. He quickly surmised that if he didnt offer them some information, they would likely keep coming back, persistently seeking his help. And, that was a problem. The last thing Cid needed right now was attention, especially from three students who were known for having "stopped Sorin." If they kept visiting him, it would undoubtedly raise eyebrows among those still investigating the aftermath of Sorins dark experiments. Cid had no desire to become a topic of interest. His focus was on keeping his head down and staying off the radara strategy that their repeated visits would undoubtedly jeopardize. He needed to find a way to handle this situation delicately, to give them just enough to satisfy them without tying himself too closely to whatever trouble they were diving into next. Miss Scarlett tells me Im not ruthless enough. I guess shes right, killing these three would prevent this kind of situation from ever happening. But I really dont want to kill people if I dont have to. Cid silently thought to himself. Cid: Tell me everything you know in relation to what youre doing. The amount and quality of the information you provided will determine if I can assist you or not. Alans eyes lit up with excitement, sensing he was on the verge of uncovering a critical piece of information. Alan launched into a detailed account of everything they had uncovered so far: he spoke about Jixi, the unsettling events surrounding the case, and the nature of Sorin''s research in the archive. He described the strange, viscous slime discovered at two different locations where people connected to Sorin had once livedlocations now eerily empty, their residents mysteriously missing. Alan covered every detail they had gathered, from the obscure notes Sorin had left behind to the patterns emerging in their investigation. For a full ten minutes, Alan spoke without pause, spilling every piece of information they had collected. When he finally finished, he leaned forward slightly, his eyes locked on Cids, waiting expectantly. He was hoping to see some flicker of recognition or understanding on Cids faceanything that might indicate they were on the right track or, better yet, that Cid knew something that could propel their investigation forward. Cid: I see Give me a moment. Cid opened the Book of Grand Design and began to read its alien symbols, his eyes moving rapidly across the strange, angular script. As he did, Jafar caught a glimpse of the books contents and immediately recognized some of the symbolsthey were the same bizarre markings he had seen in Cids room earlier. Meanwhile, Alan felt a faint pulse of aether in the air, a subtle hum of energy that mostly concentrated around Cid. Alans senses told him that whatever magic Cid was using had an aura similar to spells that enhanced physical abilities, though this one seemed more refined and precise. Cid was using numerology magic to accelerate the complex calculations he was working on. Rather than relying solely on his mind to crunch the numbers, he allowed the magic to handle most of the heavy lifting, speeding up the entire process. It was a technique that saved both time and mental energy, converting aether into computational power. With the calculations underway, Cid picked up a pencil and began to trace symbols in the air. As he did, luminous glyphs began to appear, glowing softly in the space where he had drawn them. Alan and Sere watched with fascination, captivated by the sight of symbols materializing out of thin air. Jafar, however, was less impressed. He had seen this kind of magic before with Marie; it was a basic form of magic used to write symbols in the air. Once, it had been a practical solution for scholars and mages who needed to conserve paper, but in modern times, it had fallen out of favor. Paper was no longer a rare commodity, so this type of magicthough still elegant in its own wayhad largely lost its practical usefulness. The floating symbols gradually began to descend, drifting like glowing embers through the air. One by one, they touched down on the blank sheet of paper in front of Cid. As each symbol made contact, it seared into the surface, leaving faint imprints. The markings, now etched into the paper, retained the exact form of the mysterious symbols, as if the paper itself had been branded. Cid picked up the paper, studying the strange markings closely, his eyes scanning over it several times. After a moment, he reached into his bag and retrieved a worn map of the city. He spread it out on the table, smoothing the edges with care. Leaning in, he began to meticulously trace his finger across the streets, moving from one district to the next. Searching for something within the maze of the city''s layout. Eventually, his finger stopped, hovering over a specific street. Without hesitation, he pulled out a pencil and carefully circled the location, ensuring it was clearly marked. Satisfied, Cid folded the map and handed it to Alan. Cid: Here. What you''re looking for is on Ravis Street, between Forro Lane and Tevis Avenue. Alan: Is that where Jixi is hiding! he half shouted out excitedly. Seres eyes narrowed, a glint of distrust flashing within them as she fixed her gaze on Cid. Sere: How do you know thats where Jixi is? Cid: I never said thats where Jixi is hiding. What I gave you is a location where a major clue to your investigation will be found. Alan: Oh, what exactly is it? Cid: I dont know. Sere: What do you mean you dont know? How can you tell us its something relevant to our search if you dont know what it is? The truth was, Cid genuinely didnt know. The information Alan had given him was too fragmented, lacking the substance needed for Cid to form any reliable predictions with the Book of Grand Design. The best he could do was point them in a general direction. But, that was something he was not interested in explaining to them. Cid: I dont know, and thats it. Im not going to explain it. You can either look into this information, or not. Thats your choice. Sere: How do we know you''re not setting up a trap? Jafar looked between Sere and Cid nervously after hearing about a possible trap. Cid: You dont. And, I wont guarantee it, or your safety while looking into that place. If you go there, you''re taking that risk into your own hands. Whatever dangers you face, if there are any, you''re on your own. So, take your info and dont bother me again. I dont want to be involved anymore than I already have been. And remember, dont tell anyone about me, or else Alan: OK understood. Well leave you then, he said as he and his friends began to leave. As they were about to leave, Cid spoke up one last time. Cid: Oh, and the information I gave you is time-sensitive. Its only good today from six to seven in the evening, he added. Sere turned back toward Cid, her lips parting as she prepared to press him further, ready to ask again how he had come to know what he claimed. But before she could speak, Alan extended his arm, gently placing it in front of her. He shook his head, signaling her to let it go. Alan had already sensed that Cid wasnt going to offer any more details, and he didnt want Sere to waste her timeor worse, become frustrated by the lack of a response they both knew was coming. Alan gave a nod, acknowledging Cid''s words. With a glance at his friends, he motioned for them to follow, and together they quietly exited the room, leaving Cid alone. Sticking their noses into other peoples business like that is going to get them killed one of these days. Cid thought to himself. But, more importantly, it happened again. The Book of Grand Design told me I would never talk to them after that night with Sorin, and yet they just showed up. What forces are influencing them Cid silently wondered. Chapter 87 - Mold Expert It is theorized that beyond the barriers of our reality is something called the Vulvorian Sea, more commonly known as the Dreamscape. No one has ever physically visited this place, but many seers and mages have claimed to access it through dreams. Due to the unreliability of dreams, there is no consensus on what the terrain of the Vulvorian Sea is like. We do know of its existence thanks to the presence of outsiders, as all known outsiders come from this place. The name of the Vulvorian Sea is a mixture of ancient giant and modern language. Vulvorian meaning in between the in between in the tough of giants. The suffix of sea was added to describe the constant shifting landscape of the dreamscape. Just like even on calm days, the surface of the ocean is still constantly shifting with waves and ripples. Mages who study metaphysics beyond our reality have theorized that the Vulvorian Sea is not so much a place as we usually think. Archmage Hema believed that the Vulvorian Sea was a compression of both time and space, allowing things to both not exist and exist at the same time. Therefore, it is a place and not a place. This theory is supported by time not operating normally in the dreamscape. Hemas theory is what started to popularize calling it the Dreamscape. Because what is a dream, but not something that both exists and does not. However, there are many critics who are against Hemas theory. The basis of their argument is built around the fact that all confirmed access to the sea was through dreams. They argue that due the difficulty in distinguishing dreams, its entirely possible for people to confuse a regular dream from the Vulvorian Sea, and it creates too many inaccuracies. Those same critics are also not entirely convinced that time works strangely in the sea, arguing that its just a distorted perception of time caused by dreaming. It should be mentioned that while there is no credible proof of anyone physically visiting the Vulvorian Sea, there is an ongoing debate of whether or not the Graylands are connected to it. Allowing people to physically enter the Vulvorian Sea through the mysterious Graylands. Spheres of Existence Volume 3 by Archmage Jenna Lor Joe strolled down Telver Street, the towering spires of the Cathedral of Light casting long shadows over the cobbled path. The air was thick with the scent of incense drifting from nearby vendors, but Joes focus remained on the road ahead. His footsteps echoed softly, with a rhythmic cadence, as he passed by old stone buildings and others walking the route. Soon, he slowed his pace as a familiar sight appeared on the corner ahead. There, nestled between two narrow alleys, stood "The Mortar and Pestle." Joe paused in front of the herbal shop, the scent of dried herbs and tinctures seeping through the cracks of the old door, stirring memories of his last visit. It had only been a little under a month since Joes last visit to Wren, when he first uncovered his connection to a nameless cult. That revelation had surprised him, but what followed was even stranger. Wren, the peculiar shopkeeper who seemed like nothing more than a quirky herbalist, turned out to be not just a member of a cult but, bafflingly, completely harmless. The idea of a cult being harmless was almost unimaginable to Joeit clashed with everything he''d ever believed about them. Yet, his research had confirmed it. The Putrid Rot Cult wasn''t the malicious force he had thought. Despite their bizarre and unsettling practices, they posed no real threat to anyone. According to what Joe had read in the book he had taken from Wrens shop, their obsession was with decayspecifically meditating near rotting objects in an attempt to commune with their so-called Mistress of Rot. Their beliefs were as strange as they were morbid. Yet, they didnt seek power to harm others, or destroy they only sought a strange form of spiritual enlightenment. Joe had struggled to accept it, but the more he learned about them, the more it made sense. They were harmless fanatics, nothing more. In fact, some of the cults beliefs appeared to revolve around helping others, in ways surprisingly similar to conventional religions. Despite their fixation on rot and decay, their practices weren''t purely self-serving or nihilistic. From what Joe had gathered, they believed that by embracing the natural cycle of life and death, they could offer healing and guidance to those suffering from loss or illness. It was a strange philosophyone that saw beauty in the breakdown of all things, claiming that through decay came renewal, and through its acceptance, a deeper appreciation for life could emerge. For all their unsettling rituals, their intentions seemed oddly benevolent, if not downright altruistic. Joe took a deep breath before reaching for the handle and pushing open the glass door of the shop. As the door creaked inward, a soft chime rang out from the small brass bell mounted above. The familiar noise signaled his arrival, alerting the shops owner that a customer had entered. The scent of dried herbs, earthy remedies, and something faintly floral enveloped him as he stepped inside, the door quietly swinging shut behind him. Wren heard the bell''s chime and swiftly emerged from the back room, his footsteps light and quick as he moved onto the shop floor. He began to slip into his usual routine, ready with a welcoming smile and a practiced greeting, but the moment his eyes landed on Joe, his expression shifted abruptly. The warm professionalism drained from his face, replaced by a flicker of dread. He paused as if caught between the urge to turn back and the necessity of facing him. It was clear that Joes presence was not a welcome surprise. Wren: Mistress of rot, whyyyyyy. Why him? Joe: Hi Wren. Happy to see me? he said sarcastically. Wren: No, he said, half groaning. Why are you here? Havent you ruined my life enough already? he said as walked behind the checkout counter. Joe: I dont know what you''re talking about. I havent done anything to ruin your life, he said as he stood in front of the counter across from Wren. Wren: You''re going around telling everyone that Im a cultist. Cindy and Jack are already asking if Im going to ritualistically sacrifice them or something. Joe: Whats the big deal? Your cult doesnt do that kind of stuff or anything particularly illegal. Well, there are the shrooms, but Im not saying anything about that. Wren: Easy for you to say. Most people dont know that about the Putrid Rot clan. They just think we''re all like the rest of those psychotic murders from other nameless cults. Joe: You could just explain yourself to people. Wren: You dont think I haven''t tried that before. I used to live in Port Vaal before I got ran out of that city. People dont care. Once you get labeled as a cultist, nothing you say or do matters anymore, everyone wants you goneor worse, dead. Cause they think you''re a threat. Joe: Well, we haven''t been going around telling people about your weird cult. Just Cindy, as far as I understand. So, if you can smooth over your relationship with Cindy and Jack, you should be fine. Those two can keep their lips sealed. Wren: Yeah, right. I know it was fucking Jack that sicked you on me. As if I can believe that traitor can keep a secret. I still cant get over how he sold me out after I gave him all those free shrooms! he half yelled angrily. Joe: What other choices do you have? Wren: Not much. Oh, fuck me. My shop is so close to the church, if they find out he said, looking genuinely scared. Joe: Tell you what. You help me out, Ill see what I can do to keep your little secret from getting out. How about it? Wren: Sure, fine. I dont have a choice anyway. I have to help you. Joe raised an eyebrow at Wrens quick response. There was something in his tone. It felt as though there was an ulterior motive behind his willingness to help. Joe: Why did you say it like that?If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Wren: Its exactly as I said. I have to help you. I did a shroom reading, and it told me to. Joe: Whats a shroom reading? Wren: You take dried shrooms and throw them on top of an array of ancient glyphs. Depending on where the mushrooms land in relation to the glyphs gives you a fortune. Its the old ways. The stuff I know you dont believe in and think is hocus-pocus. But, I believe it. And, it told me that for the third or fourth person to walk into my shop today, I have to help fullyeven at my own personal cost. Which happens to be you. Joe: Thats the second time thishas happened, he said, recalling his interaction with that fortune-teller in the red-light district. Wren: What is the second time that happened? Joe: Never mind, Ill see what I can do for you later," he said before changing the subject. Can you tell me about rot slime? I assume you know a bit about it since you have buckets of the stuff in your basement. Heard its a bit difficult to cultivate. Wren: Eh, not that hard if you know what you''re doing. It is mostly the smell that gets people. I have to grow special types of plants capable of absorbing odors around my store to keep the smell localized in my basement. Otherwise, my neighbors would complain. Joe: Not doing a great job of that. Im pretty sure I smelled a whiff of that in the alley beside your store when I first came to you." Wren: Hmm, there must be a leakage somewhere. Ill have to fix that later. Joe: Back to my point. Youre what would pass as an expert on mold around here. Wren: I personally wouldnt call myself an expert on mold, but sure. Joe: Have you ever heard of rot slime that has no smell? Wren: Rot slime with no smell? he repeated Joe''s question. Joe: Yeah, also, it''s clear. Kinda looks like it could be mistaken for snot. Wren: Rot slime with no smell and clear like mucus. Hmm, no, I cant say that I ever heard about that. Rot slime is naturally supposed to be green and have a pungent smell for those who are not used to it. What you''re describing is something completely different. Joe: Based on what I smelled in your basement, I wouldnt call that smell pungent. It''s a whole lot worse than that. And, no. What Im talking about is rot slime. I had it tested to confirm it. Wren: Thats strange Hmm, I feel like I have heard of something like this before. Are you sure the slime was clear? It wasn''t red? Joe: No, it was clear. What would it mean if it was red? Wren: Just something I remember hearing about a long time ago. Hang on a second. Wren turned away from Joe, disappearing into the back room of the shop without a word, leaving him standing alone near the rear of the store. Surrounded by shelves stacked with jars and bags of dried herbs, Joe glanced around, trying to pass the time. He idly browsed the collection, but his interest faded quickly. His gaze landed on a jar of pickled ginseng, its label indicating a price of over a thousand glintfar beyond what he was willing to spend. With that, any curiosity about Wrens herbal remedies evaporated. He wasnt about to pour his money into strange concoctions, especially not at prices like that. The door to the back room swung open, and Wren returned, cradling a large tome bound in cracked leather, its cover fastened by a heavy metal lock. The weight of the book was evident as he set it down on the counter with a resounding thud. Without a word, Wren pulled a tarnished brass key from her apron, inserted it into the lock, and with a sharp click, released the clasp. Wren then opened the ancient volume, its thick, yellowed pages rustling as he carefully flipped through them, searching for something specific, the faint smell of old parchment filling the air. Joe: Whats that? Wren: It is a book on plants and fungi for Putrid Rot clan members. Just give me a second while I look something up. Joe took a step back and leaned against a nearby shelf, crossing his arms as he watched Wren. As he waited, he couldnt help but study the man more closely. Wren looked as though he had just wandered out of the wildernesshis tattered, dirt-streaked jacket hung loosely on his frame, and his wild orange hair stuck out in every direction as if he hadnt seen a comb in weeks. Then there was the smellan earthy, unwashed body odor that Joe hadnt noticed during their first encounter, but now it was unmistakable. The pungent aroma of herbs and dried plants that filled the shop mercifully masked most of it, but occasionally, Wren oder would waft through the herbal haze. Most people imagined druids as one of two types: the mysterious robed figures with masks fashioned from wood and animal bones, or the ragged wild men who had spent monthsor even yearsliving deep in the wilderness. Wren certainly fits the bill for the latter. With his scruffy appearance and the earthy aura that clung to him, it wouldnt have surprised Joe if someone had mistaken Wren for a druid in the past. The resemblance might have even drawn more customers to his store, given that druids were often perceived as being close to nature, brimming with knowledge of plants and natural remedies. But Wren wasnt a druid. He wasnt anything close to one. His appearance, though it might have convinced others, was nothing more than a surface-level illusion. He was just an eccentric storekeeper with peculiar affiliations. As he thought about Wren''s relationship with druids, something just clicked in Joes mind. Joe: Falsedruid. he quietly mumbled. Wren: Hmm, did you say something? he said while continuing to stare at his book. Joe: Nothing. Did you find out what you were looking for? Wren: I think so. It seems that rot slime is one of those plants that is sensitive to changes in natural order. If its nature changes and becomes unusual, it means something is influencing it. Joe: Natural order? What are you talking about? Wren: Oh, you dont know about natural order? Joe: I wouldnt ask if I knew. Wren: Um, well, how do I explain? Natural order is the way nature operates and arranges things. How rain forms and falls, how the wind blows, the rising and setting of the sun, the barrier between our world and the Vulvorian Sea, and even the passage of time are all part of the natural order. Theyre kind of like the laws that govern our world. Forces that are fundamental to our existence. Joe: Sounds like basic science to me. Wren: Kinda. Science just observes and records how the natural order works. It doesn''t control it or change it. It can only explain how it works. Joe: Hang on a second. You said rot slime is sensitive to changes to natural order. How can something that sounds so fundamental to our existence change?" Wren: Well, there are some prime forces that cant be altered at all. But, changes in the natural order are more common than you think. Pretty much anything that uses aether is a deviation away from the natural order. Joe: So magic itself goes against the natural order. Does that mean someone cast some sort of spell on the rot slime? Is that why it seems so unusual? Wren: Maybe? Im not sure. The only reason modern magic is not a complete violation of the natural order is because aether-based spells are temporary. Whatever changes you make with that magic will eventually reverse itself. So, if there is magic cast on that rot slime you found, then you should be able to detect it. Or, it should have gone back to being normal green rot slime eventually. Joe: I see. There was no enchantment or aether on the slime. What else could make it deviate away from what its naturally supposed to be? Wren: There is one other thing that can change natural order. Outsiders. Specifically, nameless gods. That was the last thing Joe wanted to hear. If nameless gods were involved, then cults were almost certainly part of the equation as well. This realization turned the entire investigation into something far more perilous. Now the investigation carried the dark weight of forbidden rituals and fanatical followers, all of which made the situation far more dangerous than Joe would like. Wren: I have heard that most plants are sensitive to the presence of nameless gods, some more than others. They mutate or die just being near their influence. If a nameless god is involved, it might be enough to change the nature of the rot slime. Joe: So, gods like yours can mutate plants and things. I guess that makes sense. I think I heard somewhere that people can mutate from cult worship. So, that kinda tracks. Wren: Dont compare my mistress to those other evil nameless gods! She respects the natural order and would never mutate us or anything else. She only wants us to appreciate the parts of nature that people take for granted! he half yelled, feeling insulted by Joe comparing his god to other nameless gods. Joe: Sure, whatever, he said, followed by a deep sigh. This is not good. Its definitely pointing more and more to Rattle Bone involvement. Wren: Why do you say that? he said while looking confused. Joe: Doesn''t it make the most sense? Rattle Bone cultists would probably use rot slime to clean the flesh from the bones of the corpses they collect. Wren: Sure, but Rattle Bone cultists are not known for dealing with slime. Theyre more about manipulating the undead. Joe: Was there another cult you were thinking about then? Wren: Well, theres a reason I asked you if the rot slime was red. There is a very specific cult that deals with slime that I have heard about. It was an old cult that was around a long time ago. I believe their god can specifically affect rot slime in a very horrific way. Joe: Who are they? Wren: Theyre known as the