Chapter 41 - Polaras

A small brass kettle slowly bubbled over a small fire in the center of the cavernous room. The light danced against the cobalt pale walls and cast two long shadows that sat close to each other. Crackling tinder smoldered while the flames spread towards their unburnt inside, trying to follow a path that led to survival, no matter how short lived it may be.

“What have you been doing in the human world, these past ten years?”

Arnest looked to his side where Leale sat cross legged, feeding bits of kindling to the insatiable fire.

“I lived in a small village until a few months ago, when my grandfather sent me out to explore the rest of Lanex.”

The kettle started to faintly whistle and Leale took out a metal rod to unhook the hanging pot from over the fire, onto the cold ground. Steam exploded when the two contrasting temperatures contacted each other and slowly billowed into nothingness. A minute or so passed and Leale lifted the kettle from it’s handle and poured it into two bronze cups.

“Are you happy?” he transmitted to Arnest as he passed one of the warm cups to him.

Arnest took a sip while sending back his response, “I wasn’t eaten by that Mamalark or killed by the mob out there, so… happy enough.”

Leale started to chuckle. “They may have not given you the most heart warming welcome, but they still are your kin. Everyone in Polaras are Neptus’s children.”

Arnest frowned, “Do you get prophecies from Neptus?”

“Yes, that’s how we knew where to look for you.”

“That’s funny, because according to an angry old woman, Neptus said I would bring misfortune to everyone I meet.”

“Is that why the humans threw you overboard?”

“I would assume so. But for some reason I couldn’t read their minds.”

“Well, Neptus works in strange ways. As for why you couldn’t read their minds, that probably would be because of my aura.”

“You mentioned this ‘aura’ thing before, but what is it?”

“There’s a story we tell the children that says Neptus’s first children always fought because they knew what the other was thinking. So he gave them auras to prevent each other from hearing their thoughts.” Leale then placed his cup down to his side, ”It might be just a story but that’s what I like to believe, anyways.”

“Do I have an aura?”

“Yes, it’s fairly strong for someone your age.”

Arnest took a sip from the now cold cup. “Are you really my father?”

“Blood does not lie.” Leale smiled.

The fire crackled one final time before the flames burst and then imploded into itself, becoming nothing but glowing embers.

“So what happens to me now?”

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A myriad of strangely shaped crucibles and racks of thin vials covered the wide tabletop. Every square inch of space was filled and every vessel contained a mysterious compound. A greyed man with a lanky build hovered over a smoky cauldron off to the side and would periodically peer over to the desk, taking note of any minute changes that might have occurred while he was preoccupied.

Knocks rapped against the door, but caused no response or care from the man who thrusted his entire head over the cauldron and directly into the smoke. He inhaled with a deviant smile as he caressed himself in a lonely embrace.

“Yes, this is it! There’s no mistaking this tantalizing aroma… he hee…” he said, sucking in as much smoke as he could like a nicotine addict having his first cigarette after a year of abstinence.

The door swung open and an unamusing man walked in onto the other who was having his moment of ecstasy. A brief look of disgust was quickly replaced by apathy and the visitor knocked heavily onto the desk a few times in an attempt to garner some attention. Everything shook with each knock and one of the containers that was filled to the brim tipped over to the side. In an instant, the lanky strange man caught it with both hands and tried to catch all the liquid as well. With a surprising dexterity, he was able to save his precious pot and mixture and carefully placed it back into it’s original spot.

“Ah, Zanako. What bring you here?”

Kamu picked up a half filled purplish vial and swirled it in his hand like a fine wine. “How much progress have you made, Krill?”

“The purity of the Devillefins’ glands are quite amazing! I knew the concentrations would be greatest after their mating season, but I honestly didn’t think it was going to be this high!”

Krill grabbed a damp burlap sack and pulled out a bloody ball of what looked like intestines. “See the dark red coloration? A clear indication of its’ fiery nature!”

Pinching his nose, Kamu glared at him and his hand dripping in blood. “Isn’t that just blood?”

“No no no. This is the juice of the fish’s glands. Very explosive nature and just a little bit of flame can erupt into a wildfire,” Krill said as he slowly dipped and then dropped the gland into the cauldron. It started to smoke even more violently, even without a fire roaring below it.

“Also has been said that drinking it is good for matters of the bedroom, but I’m sure you don’t have problems there, he hee…”

Kamu continued to glare at the eccentric alchemist, “So when will it be ready?”

“Just another gland…” Krill said, as he dropped in more ingredients, “and a bit of newt’s dust to balance the fire water… and DONE!”

“I’ll send some men to come gather the fire water later then,” Kamu said as headed out of the room with unprecedented speed.

Krill chased after Kamu before he could leave and grabbed him by the wrist. “Wait! Zanako! What about the pixie wings and wyrm hearts I asked for?”

“You’ll receive those when my men come by to gather the fire water.” Kamu then pulled his arm away and rubbed his wrist, “If that’s all, I’ll need to go now. I’m very busy.”

“Ah yes, yes...Sorry to bother you, exalted Zanako, he hee…”

The door slammed shut and Krill ran towards the cauldron, returning to being absorbed into monitoring the faint changes in the fire water’s aroma.

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The moon hanged upside down from overhead, frowning at the city of nearly empty streets. Along a cobblestone road, walked a lone figure whose face was obscured by a wide hat. The figure deftly traveled across the path, stepping in an orderly line parallel to the buildings that were on both sides. All the houses along the street followed a similar theme: tall narrow doors in the center, windows with at least one small balcony on every level and planter boxes on windowsills. They pressed up against each other forming barely passable walkways between them and even the road itself, that lay between the columns of houses was also fairly tight with only enough space for two medium-sized carts to travel side by side.

Arriving in front of its destination, the figure stopped and looked at the nameplate on the front that was illuminated by a street candled lamp. “Traid Family”, it read.

Pulling out a key from a pants pocket, the door was easily opened. The entranceway was quaint and narrow, just like the outside of the building itself. Sparsely furnished with a high table that held up a simple pot of an aster bouquet. One the left side was a hallway that presumably led to a living room and to the right a staircase leading up to the upper levels of the Traid’s house.

The figure headed up the stairs to the third and very top floor, and reached a narrow corridor. Each step taken was carefully pressed against the floorboards, like a unfilial husband sneaking into bed with his wife before she notices he was gone. At the end of the corridor was only a door blocking the path. With the same consideration as with the figures footsteps, it turned the glass knob ever so slightly until the gears turned and it opened.

A cool breeze hit the intruder’s face, coming from an open window. The white thinly woven curtains waved back and forth with the wind and the figure took a few steps into the room. This room was much more furnished and with higher end materials, such as a mahogany dresser and a intricately casted golden mirror that sat on top of it. To the left and centered in the room was a king sized bed, where a sleeping woman slept with the covers tightly gripping her body.

The intruder couldn’t help but think about how beautiful she was, even as she was only sleeping. But it was soon replaced by a sense of higher purpose and remembering what had to be done.

Removing a dagger from a belt buckle, his hand shook but he used his other hand to steady himself. Gripping tightly, the intruder drove the dagger through her chest and in moments her chest stopped moving. Not even a small yelp was let out. “She probably didn’t feel any pain,” the intruder said to himself.

He then wiped the dagger clean and moved towards the dresser, opening up the drawers and tossing clothes and other loose articles all over the room. The intruder had become a murderer and now a thief as well, taking a golden chained bracelet and a few fanciful looking rings. After he was done, he started trashing the entire room, throwing things to the ground and breaking everything that seemed breakable. This process was repeated throughout the entire house until nothing was left unturned or untarnished.

As he was about to leave the house, a man wobbled into the front entranceway. The stench of booze and piss covered him in a thick must of putridness, but that didn’t seem to deter him from having a merry mood. The intruder froze for a moment but after looking at the newcomers rosey face, he became less tense.

“Captain Traid, you shouldn’t be here right now.” he said, removing his hat.

“Oiii, is that ya Lajos? Whattaya doing in my home?”

“Do you remember what today is?”

“You got some nice lookin’ jewelry in your pocket so… is it my birthday? Did you come here to bring me a present, ya good ole bastard?” Captain Traid started to wheeze in laughter.

“Today’s the day you ordered me to do something…” Lajos quietly answered.

“What didja say? Couldn’t hear ya!”

“Please don’t yell, Captain.” Lajos said, this time a little louder.

“I’m just messing with ya, boy. I know why ya’s here, that’s why I got so drunk!”

Captain Traid laughed again, hiccuped and then patted Lajos on the back. He leaned in close and asked, “So… is it done?”

“Yes… It’s been done.”

“Good, good. Go ahead and keep all that jewelry and do whatever you want with it. But a friendly reminder, her jewelry were all crafted with the Oros’s secret marks and shit so if you sell it on the market, the Oros Family will probably find you, torture you and then kill you if you’s lucky.”

“Understood.” Lajos said, putting on his wide hat again, making his way towards the door.

“Well, have a good night, future Lieutenant Lajos,” the captain waved.

“Good night, Captain Traid.”