Chapter Ten
Patri had never been more relieved in his life than when the mystical bandaged fellow had let Heria go without further conflict. Just a swift kick to the gut and a wave of his framework hand sent Heria on her way in a trance-like state, muttering to herself all the while. If Amberosin had not been so severely injured Patri was sure the man would have sprung like a coiled viper and ended the terrifying Alta woman. The air around him had changed as soon as Heria was in sight. A dark, heavy feeling emitted off of the bandaged man like another, terrifying presence altogether. Rage, fear, and sorrow were all embedded deep within the stranger, all things Patri now knew. All because of a mingling of essence that Patri never even thought was possible. He’d worked up the energy and courage to ask his new friend about the incident while they carried Amberosin and her bulging pack through dark alleyways, over stone fences and marble courtyards that cost inexplicably more than southern districts homes altogether.
“What was that? When we.. connected?”
Patri’s face contorted in utter confusion, he was sure that wasn’t the word he was looking for. “Connected” didn’t feel strong enough to him. Entwined? Something about that notion made him blush a little. The bandaged stranger had merely shrugged his broad shoulders, took more of Amberosin’s weight, and nodded to Patri to go ahead of him. He felt more than inclined to listen to what this mysterious man wanted and in all fairness, Patri had suggested the hideout, so it only made sense that he go ahead first.
Stifling his myriad of questions, such as what the hell had he done to Heria, the guild leader sunk to his knees and began picking a lock situated on an obscenely thick back door to the shop Amberosin had nearly bled him dry to keep tabs on when it was just an empty plot. Bless her.
Patri’s calloused hands had them inside within minutes.
They’d situated Amberosin on a table nearest their entrance, swiping it’s contents to the floor in a metallic clatter. Immediately the bandaged man held his metal hands over the young woman, and though Patri saw nothing, he could feel essence charging the air all around them. A small crackle of light escaped beneath the mystic stranger and Amberosin stirred, waking for but a moment before returning back to sleep he hoped was well taken. She would need it if she was ever going to recover. Patri could see where her ribs had become misshapen and threatened to break through Amberosin’s dirtied skin.
An hour of silence watching the man do his invisible work sent Patri into a fitful sleep of his own. A soft clanging of dropped metals nearby was the last sound he heard before being consumed by lovely visions of Senfa laying atop him, stroking his hair, smiling like the blessing she was. Only the backdrop changed, never their faces; always happy, complacent. Patri’s private utopia on repeat. A wonderful loop that was ultimately cut short by a soft light peeking over the solitary window to the front of the shop. Consciousness came upon him all at once and the soft light that had danced sweetly across his eyelids set his cornea aflame. Through excessive blinking, rubbing, and involuntary cursing, Patri spotted the bandaged stranger sitting cross-legged with his back as straight as a line. The man’s metallic palms lay flat before him while the fingers had split apart and spun around one another weaving intertwining paths of light. They made no sound.
Meditating? Or is he just screwing around because he’s bored?
Patri cleared his throat to try and get some reaction from the man but it didn’t seem to faze him. It had, however, gotten the attention of an unfathomably spry Amberosin who stood stretching with a pleased smile.
“Had a mind to leave you here to be found if you didn’t stir from those wet dreams of yours soon, Pat. Glad you came to before we headed out.”
Amberosin shot him a playful wink, which meant he’d mostly been forgiven for his idiocy weeks ago. Patri’s heart raced alongside his still sleep laden mind as he tried to piece together how she stood in front of him without a visible wound left on her body. She seemed not only healed, but reinvigorated. Amberosin’s fatigue had all but vanished and color bloomed once more atop her gold-tinted umber skin. Skin that appeared to be a sight more clean than it was before. No amount of casting should’ve healed her so completely.
“How fucking long was I out? You shouldn’t be awake let alone..”
Patri’s eyebrows scrunched together as he looked her over. Amberosin gave a mocking courtesy and quick chuckle.
“Our friend here-” she gestured to the wrapped meditating man with a slight nod, “pieced me all back together within an hour or so. I woke to you snoring and this miracle worker spinning his fingers around like a mad man. Pretty sure he’s casting but… no glow, so..”
Amberosin’s shoulders rose and fell with an ease Patri envied.
“To be young, I suppose... Either way, glad to see you feeling well. Truthfully, I was sure you’d be drowning in your own blood by morning, just didn’t want to make chatter-mouth over there feel down about it.”
Patri laughed off his many questions and concerns with ease. A talent that had taken years to perfect.
The young woman he’d heard horrifying wet gasps from only hours before was rifling through her pack with abandon, making sure neither man had made away with her items. Smart girl. He smiled and shook his head, not like he would be dumb enough to steal from her. It was fairly well known throughout his small guild that she was untouchable, if only because she would gut anyone who stood between her and a mark. Patri not excluded.
Amberosin’s head cocked to the side as she pulled out a small golden key.
“You didn’t use this to get in?”
Stifling a frustration, Patri knew to be part of what Senfe called his “morning persona”, he gave a short laugh and pulled out his set of lockpicks.
“Proper thieving has its perks, believe it or not.”
The small key spun on her index finger, “Or,” her smile widened enough to show canines sharpened past the point of normalcy, “You neglected to even look for a key in my pack.”
“Ha! As if I’d ever go near a pack of yours.”
“That’s right you won’t.”
Amberosin’s laughter rang out in the empty shop but Patri knew she was serious as ever. She could unnerve him a bit at times with her seemingly incessant optimism, though, there was no doubt it helped her survive as long as she had. Almost a necessity for someone in her shoes.
He couldn’t tell if the growing grin was meant to be playful or threatening, though Patri often wondered if there was a difference with Amberosin. Her eyes always seemed dangerous to him behind those tinted shades. Even as she quickly took inventory of her own belongings he could see the young woman’s gaze cast about the floor to every corner, searching for anything that may come in handy later. Patri rose slowly, struggling not to groan so loud as he would on a normal morning. Best to not let Amberosin know just how old he was getting, his casting kept him healthy and young for much longer than he should have been but all things degraded with time. He and Amberosin were friendly enough as it went but to one another each was competition for food and a feeble sense of solace, so it was best to keep a few things close to his own chest.
After a scattered series of pops and cracks about his body, Patri finally noticed the floor around the table where there should have been a metallic mess from their hasty entrance. Or had he imagined that? Amberosin’s contents had been on display and he’d seen no fancy silverware or small daggers anywhere. Every merchant sold daggers of one sort or another in Blancana. Common folk seemed to collect them regularly, displaying them like nobles would ornate greatswords or maces who all claimed their lovely weapons had been used by some Legend or another.
He couldn’t see all of the shop’s wares in the dim lighting but of what he could make out, there were no reflections glinting off of short blades. Only a few foods and baubles from some island far beyond Noctra’s shores remained after Amberosin’s heist.
Solas rose higher and higher with each passing moment, giving the old thief a cold sweat beneath his cloak. Patri’s every instinct was to run and hide before the owner came back but looking at the bandaged man he knew he couldn’t do it. The stranger had saved Amberosin’s life. It just didn’t feel right leaving him; perhaps because the man’s heart was still burned to the back of Patri’s eyelids, calling him to stay by the bandaged stranger. Seeing as Amberosin hadn’t bounded out of a window, Patri assumed she felt much the same. Her pack was ready on her shoulder but those goggled eyes of hers were aimed at the cross legged man. Waiting for his next move.
Still as stone, he sat. Those framework hands of his spinning with a slight crackle of light here or there. Silent.
“He’s awake. If you were wondering”
Amberosin spoke through a mouthful of a juicy fruit, taken directly from a rack nearby. Not one to waste a chance to eat, Patri nodded to her.
“How do you know?”
Patri caught an orange that was tossed only a little too hard, choosing to ignore how much his hand ached from his agonizing climb the night before.
Without so much as a glance in the stranger’s direction, the young woman threw a perfectly round, ruby red apple, aimed at the nape of his neck. Merely feet away it should have been impossible for the man to stop the edible projectile. But he did. Patri hadn’t even gotten to yell out before the apple stopped, floating just behind the bandaged man, rotating slowly. It dropped low and circled around his wrapped body. After a moment it floated to the man’s mouth, Patri heard a soft crunching, and saw bandages scrunched around the strangers neck. The stranger was exposed and Patri wanted desperately to chance a peek at the man’s exposed mouth but desired avoiding his ire even more.
Amberosin gave Patri a smug smile.
“That’s his fourth this morning.” She shamelessly peered around his shoulder and frowned dramatically. “Casts a shadow over his mouth every single time. I assume he is monstrous because of it. Only seems logical.” Once more she grinned from ear to ear.
Patri could see the man’s shoulders move in what he swore was a slight chuckle, it seemed the two had bonded in their short time together as well. When his gray cloak fluttered on the sides Patri could spot the inner design of the strangers clothing. The wrappings around the man were definitely Ta’ with their bright alternating colors, but that cloak was something even more impressive in Patri’s mind. A Matra Dreadbeast coat lined the underside of his cloak, hood and all.
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Alpha to all alphas.
“I’d play nice with him, girl. He’s wearing some dangerous marks there.”
Patri felt like a chastising father. A particularly useless one at that. She knew how to take care of herself and if the strange man tried anything with her Patri was sure she could tear him limb from limb. Almost. She scoffed and sat atop the table that still had drying puddles of her blood.
“ I’ve got quite the dangerous mark myself Pat.”
Amberosin pointed at the white scar just below her right eye. He felt a tinge of shame for being so ignorant.
“ Right.. Sorry. He seems like a good enough man to me. Very trustworthy face.”
All three gave their own small laughs. A soft chorus in the quiet shop.
Silence made Patri uncomfortable, always had and he knew exactly what the trio should discuss next. “So, are we all ready to go? I’ve got a proper bed to get back to.”
“Yeah, yeah, and a proper lady you don’t deserve waiting for you in it huh?”
Amberosin knew him better than even she was aware, he bet.
“Though I can’t say I don’t agree there Patty. I’d rather not be around when Mr. Schuri gets in. He’s got a keen eye for when something is missing.. So I’ve been told.”
A playful look flashed across her face and Patri gathered she might have worked at the shop for a short while before hitting it. Calm and calculated like a professional beyond her years.
Patri couldn’t resist.
“Amberosin... Before we scatter back to our corners, I gotta ask again. Join us? You don’t have to stay at a guildhouse or anything like that, we aren’t quite so… sophisticated as that. The main thing is, someone always has your back kid.”
She hesitated, she always did. Every. Single.Time. Patri couldn’t help but think of how much money she’d bring in- and her continued safety, of course. Come on kid.
“No, thanks, but I’m good for now. I think I owe this gentleman for saving my life. Seems he's here on a mission of some sort, all focused and quiet as he is. Figure I’ll help him with that and…. we’ll be even. Yeah?”
The bandaged man waited only a moment before giving a single, resolute nod.
Simple as that. No idea the mission or who the man was. Completely insane. The young woman was just like her mother. Patri didn’t argue though, just smiled with a quick nod of his own.
“Well then, I will be on my way. Stay safe, you two. You are welcome to stop by the guildhouse anytime.”He turned to leave out the back of the shop, figuring he didn’t want to be roaming the streets in brisk morning light, given his reputation. A quick and subtle click stopped him in his tracks. Someone was coming in the front, their shadow visible through an opaque glass door depicting a visage of a ship on raging seas.
Patri and Amberosin shot down to their knees and found cover near the back door, ready to escape as soon as they got the chance. The wrapped stranger didn’t move a muscle. His framework hands still spun.
What...the fuck?
An eternity crawled by as Schuri’ fiddled with his lock. Patri poured an uncomfortable sweat down his body like a swollen rain cloud, luckily his thief’s eyes had finally shook off their crust laden sleep and locked on to something just in front of the stranger; a clear jar with silver dust in it. Filled to the brim. Patri wasn’t positive, but he thought blades would make dust around the same color. But how do you turn blades into dust? Every second with this man gave him more questions. In part, it was invigorating, though mostly, it was tiring.
The shadows in front of the door multiplied and even from the back of the shop they could hear muffled voices on the other side. Schuri’ wasn’t alone and whoever was with him did not sound all that happy. Amberosin looked concerned until she realized Patri was looking at her, immediately she put on a mischievous smile and winked as she moved to sit next to the stranger. He only looked her way and bowed his head slightly before sitting up right once more.
A small bell rang as a crowd of White’s guard poured in, one by one. Ding ding. First to come in was Mr. Schuri, a round bellied man with creme skin and icy blue eyes that had a natural squint to them. His hair seemed to be darker than the pitch black of an eclipse, falling down to his shoulders. The merchant’s cheeks were burning red and sweat beaded down his chin as the soldiers piled in.
One person at a time. Ding ding. At the tail end of ten soldiers eached armed with straight blades holstered on their hips was a towering figure draped in a pure white cloak that shone like a beacon under the soft light of dawn. His mask rose into two rounded points on either side, a glossy platinum white orb with horns that lit up with the telltale streams of active estech. The man made Patri’s blood run cold, had ever since he was a child.
“Lord White.” Schuri’ bowed his head and held his arms out wide. “This is my humble shop and while it may not be up to the standards of your own great creations, I am sure I could find you something of interest, if you like.”
Lord White simply looked around without saying a word. Poor Schuri went green with the color of bile. Patri breathed a sigh of relief when out spewed more words instead.
“I must say, I’m very honored to have someone of your esteem visit my establishment. I haven’t been here long-”
A gloved hand rose from beneath the horned Lord’s cape, cutting off the merchant’s words like a well oiled blade.
“Grand Councilor or simply White will do, friend. ‘Lord’ makes me think of those gaudy nobles I’ll be enduring in pointless meetings for the rest of my days. Once again, perhaps for the first time, I am very sorry to intrude. Usually my son, Mezir, would be doing this work but after last night I figured he is deserving of some rest.”
Lord White let the words hang for a moment, to Schuri’s obvious discomfort.
“Oh, is.. Is your son well?”
Patri assumed the merchants bumbling convinced their humble Grand Councilor he was trustworthy, only because White didn’t slay him then and there.
“He is fine, only exhausted from a lengthy investigation.”
Once more he left the short statement out in the open. Still a little untrusting of the merchant, it seemed. Whatever it was that had happened likely hadn’t been made public, officially at least.
“Investigation?”
“Yes.” He sounded almost disappointed in the man’s ignorance. “We had many guards slain last night in a horrific display, further south.” His cape fell past his feet and laid out across the floor around him, wide enough to keep most a few feet away. It drug behind him as he slowly turned, eyeing out the wares in the store. “Many are beginning to think of it as a message of sorts, I suppose. Really just a troubling display. Violent vagrants who’ve been squatting in the wild like animals.”
Lord White’s horned mask shook from side to side.
“I am sorry, Grand Councilor, is there some way that… that I can help with this matter?”
Patri found the man’s confusion to be entirely justified. Why would the official leader of Blancana, unofficial ruler of Noctra, come to a lowly merchants shop while investigating a murder scene in an entirely different district?
“Only by allowing myself and my men to look around quickly before you open. Three culprits fled north and were last seen heading towards the port. We have mobilized most of our soldiers in pursuit, these are some very dangerous people we are after and we would rather not take any chances. As such we are searching every building be it home or establishment on the port for their presence. My lieutenants will be questioning your neighbors within the hour in the same exact manner, dear Mr. Schuri.”
“Why, yes, yes of course, sir!” Schuri’s hands waved around the shop frantically, “Nothing is off limits. And if you find anything that catches your eye do let me know, I usually don’t sell before taking stock, but there can be exceptions for such esteemed guests!”
Something wasn’t right about what White had said. Supposedly, guards and soldiers were storming Blancana and questioning everyone but he didn’t hear any marching or commands. There was no sound outside apart from a few merchants shuffling to their shops. His hearing had always been impeccable so he knew when to get nervous. Now was the time. Patri’s sweat had turned to quickly drying ice upon his skin as he considered just what would happen to him if he were found aiding someone who’d murdered guards. Amberosin was across the aisle, watching White with an enormous intensity. Good thing their mutual friend was there, otherwise she may break and-
Shit.
The bandaged stranger was gone. His small jar of silver dust had followed him, though a single framework hand still spun in place.
Shit. Shit. Fucking smeared shit.
Patri couldn’t believe what a fool he had been, trusting the man because he had “seen his heart”. Unbelievable- as if a lifetime spent with vagabonds and filthy criminals didn’t teach him the value of skepticism.
I hope I see the cowardly bastard on the streets later, he won't make it far without-
A quick movement to his right ended the man’s internal fuming. He’d almost missed it. Just the slightest flicker below a nearby window. He’s there. Patri couldn’t see him but he knew the bandaged man was there. His old theive’s bones could feel him.
What the hell was he thinking? The window was closer to White and his fanatic estate guards, the opposite of the direction they needed to go. Patri thought on the man’s heart once more, patches of swirling obsidian littered about it. He wasn’t too well versed in matters of the heart, especially when it was literally right before his eyes, but he figured those rots could only be so many things. Man probably had more than enough reason to be hateful or depressed, though Patri was certain it was vengeance that plagued his heart so. A vengeance Patri was sure more than a few others shared.
Patri felt his own rage at Lord White swell once again, a burning he’d suppressed for his own sanity and survival. He understood how the wrapped Ta’ felt but there was no way to tell what he was thinking, what his plan was. They were lacking in weapons, even with the stranger's obvious skill, they were outnumbered and with White present they were sorely outmatched. White didn’t rise to Grand Councilor without a good scrape or two. As far as Patri understood the man was a true living Legend and had battled on the frontlines of every war Noctra had known. Most thought him immortal. None of Patri’s informants had been able to dispute it. Anything Patri could get his hands on supported it.
He didn’t have much interest in fighting a god, no matter how much he hated him. As dearly as Patri felt for the stranger, he planned on hiding until everything blew over. He was good at that. Better than he was at fighting at least. Sure, in his younger days he’d become a master thief and upended the underworld, with Senfa’s help of course, but Patri knew that time had passed. White had taken care of that when he demolished the guilds altogether.
Mimicking the salute he’d received himself from the stranger earlier, the aging, bed sick thief sat behind a sturdy wooden shelf and made himself as small as possible. Patri pulled his cloak tight, hood low, and aimed his eyes to the ground, grateful he was wearing his usual grey cloak blotted with black instead of the ornate garbage Senfe had acquired from their newest client. They’d argued for hours about the practicality. At least in his old, dirty clothes he might pass as a sleeping beggar who’d found the door unlocked.
She’d been right of course. They needed the job and he was really just worried about what others would say. She was good at getting him to think about himself. Good at keeping his pride in check.
But Senfa wasn’t there.
Huddled beneath his dark, splotted cloak, knees tight to his chest trembling between white knuckled fists, Patri was alone when he heard Amberosin’s chiding chuckle. Alone with his pride. It swelled in the humid darkness, surrounding him, suffocating the old thief with a veracity he’d not known since his youth. A desire to act. To prove her wrong.
She’s right to laugh, Patri. Any of your men would have killed you if they saw this. Thinking you’d gone lame. The perceptive ones of the few that follow you would see through your fear. They’d strike like a viper, without remorse.
The voice was his own but deeper, graveled, and full of static. It drove his heart to the point of bursting, threatened to scorch Patri alive if he did not act, if he refused to rebuke the aggressive words with aggressive actions. Far beneath it’s fiery grasp, there was also a small concern for his two companions, a hint of the man he had always wanted to be, clinging onto existence.
Amberosin’s own movement to his right, a slight scuffing of her thin makeshift shoes, set him off. Patri spun up from on his sore ass, extended his aching legs, and sprang forward into the middle of the shelves in their far corner, standing tall with daggers in each hand. Beside him, Amberosin stood on guard snarling in a feral excitement.
Can’t let them have all the fun can I? Legends watch over us.