Chapter 8: Sightseeing

Valisa

“Your name?”

Valisa looked at the man in front of her. A well-kempt, tired looking human with another person behind him staring blankly at her. She looked around. She was in a plain room. “Uh... where am I?”

“She's aware, that's good,” the man muttered to the one behind him before focusing on Valisa. “That's not really important now, is it?”

“... I guess not. But who are you?”

“You know, it's impolite to answer a question with a question.” He smiled at her.

She sighed. “Fine. My name is Valisa.”

“That name, is it Kathan?”

“Well, Argokath is that entire part of the continent now, so yeah.” Valisa felt very forthcoming around him. She wasn't sure why.

“Do you remember what happened earlier, Valisa?”

Valisa squinted in thought. She found her target at the bathhouse, as planned...“I attacked that cur,” she said, “she dodged. She was good. Then she lunged.” She froze in fear. That face. She remembered it now. It was burned into her mind.

“I see. And you knew she was going to be in the bathhouse?”

“Yeah. I paid a group to steer her towards it,” she explained.

“Hm. Alright, Well I think that's about all I needed to ask,” he said and pulled an amulet out, dangling it in front of her. Valisa felt a strong tug and a tingle through her body, but otherwise nothing happened. She looked at the man, confused.

A moment of surprise flashed on his face before it returned to the same creepy smile he had before. “You'll be following me from now on, along with this guy.” He motioned to the one behind him, a white haired man. “Don't mind him though.”

Valisa furrowed her brow as she looked at the two, then around the room once again. Something was off, but she couldn't tell what. Perhaps it was the fact that she couldn't feel the cold stone under her feet.

#

Hawke

“Three days. Kathans like their shore leave.” Ruin told Hawke, leaning back in his seat. He had a roll of paper in his hands, burning tobacco inside. Mareth didn't find the habit pleasing, but a lot of his colleagues had it so the smoke didn't bother him.

“So that's the limit for Avira breaking out?” Mareth asked, inferring what they were talking about.

“Yeah. I'm sure she can do it, but it's too much of a risk for us to go in,” Hawke said.

“Don't worry, I'm giving her a hand,” Mareth said, “she'll be out in time.”

“Mm,” Ruin muttered in response, exhaling smoke. “Well, just don't get arrested as well. Smuggling one wanted convict is fine, two is trickier. Especially a mage.”

“Very well. I'll be off then, I'd like to explore the town.”

“I think I'll go as well.” Hawke stood up.

Ruin nodded, in a state of quiet contemplation.

“They sold her out,” Mareth told Hawke after they'd made a good amount of distance between them and the bar. “They told that woman where to find Avira. Took her money too.”

“Alright.” Hawke replied.

“You don't seem surprised.”

“Of course not. You think an espionage group has any loyalty? This whole thing is likely an attempt to pull me into a scandal.”

“Crown prince, attacks ship of a nation he has a cease-fire with? I can see that. So why are you going along with it?”

“Not many other choices. We couldn't even get a room with a free hybrid accompanying us, I doubt we'll get a ship easily. And revealing my identity and throwing my weight around to get a ride isn't something I'm willing to do.”

“True, true.“ Mareth nodded. “So do you have a plan to deal with this situation, then?”

“Not really. I'm going by the seat of my pants here. You just worry about Avira, I'll take care of my own issues.”

“Fair enough.” Mareth shrugged. “But first, I'm going to actually take a walk around.”

“I'm heading to the mage tower if you're interested.” Hawke thumbed towards a spire rising from the center of the city.

“Ah, I would but I'm not actually allowed near them. Have fun though.” Mareth smiled.

Hawke rubbed his chin and watched Mareth leave. Never could get a read on him. At least Avira, crude as she acted, was simple. Whenever he saw that man's smile, he just felt uneasy.

The two had walked out of the slums while chatting, so there wasn't much danger on Hawke's way there. He noticed a lot of lamias in addition to the heightened Argokath presence. The prince always thought it strange that Drima so readily accepted the lamia into their towns, with how much of a menace they were in the desert proper. They were even allowed in places hybrids were usually prohibited from.

The mage tower was, as always, one of the tallest buildings in the city. It was circular, the sides dotted with windows and balconies. There were a few crumpling bits with bricks and scaffolding floating in midair, held together by magic. Hawke wondered why they didn't just use a spell to fix it.

The first floor was mostly open, with a lot of pillars spread about. The floor was clean clay tile. He noticed a few doors on the walls, but surely those were small rooms. A handful of mages populated the floor, murmuring in small groupings. Hawke walked to a very thick pillar in the center of the room. It had a staircase spiraling around it and a large doorway with a button next to it.

He pressed the button. No response. He pressed it again.

“Sorry, elevator's broken,” came a voice from behind and above him. He turned and was face to scale with a large snake woman. Or rather, she was using her snake bottom half to prop herself up and make her human half seem larger than it was. Arcane symbols were inked into her exposed midsection. Hawke remembered that tribal mages etched the symbols and phrases for magic on their own bodies. It was similar to what mages did to runics.

“Broken? It's hydraulic, I assume?” He asked.

“Correct. Apparently it's always breaking. At least it gets these stuffy scholars some exercise” She was fit in her own right, though a lot of lamias were all muscle. Her dark skin, thick yellow hair in tight locks, and piercing gaze reminded him of Avira.

He realized he was looking at her for too long and cleared his throat awkwardly. “You should have gotten a pneumatic one. Much more reliable.”

“Yeah?” She smirked. “A wind elemental, then.”

If a look at the prince didn't show that, then hearing him talk about pneumatic technology certainly did. “Ah, yes.” He smiled nervously.

“So, what would you be doing in a Driman mage tower, then?” She leaned closer, inspecting him. His feet were glued to the floor as he leaned back. Her eyes were intense.

“Uhm... I... I was going to visit the harpy nest at the top.”

“Hmm...” The lamia continued to peer into him. After a moment of thought, she leaned back and smiled. “Alright, well don't get worn out on the stairs.”

“I— I won't, thank you.” Hawke nodded, leaving as fast as he could. He could hear her chuckling behind him.

Hawke sighed. Ever since he hit puberty he'd been blurting out things around attractive women. It was a hard habit to break. Which was probably part of the reason why he'd been sent out to L'Ries. That and his father's constant pressure for him to find a wife. Easier said than done.

The prince had an easy time on the stairs. As a wind elemental, it would take a lot to tire him out. He did feel sorry for the mages who had to traverse this, however. It was rare that they had good constitutions.

The shuffling of feet rang out as a group of them passed by him, dressed for battle. He gave them a once over while they stepped by. Their gear was clearly enchanted. Daemon hunters? They were common in the larger cities, but he wondered if the daemon they might be after was actually malevolent.

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The light grew dimmer the higher he went. Instead of magical lights, the stairway became lit by normal candles instead. Probably more cost effective. He did notice brighter light emanating from under the doorways he passed every so often. Those were the departments where they were conducting studies and practicing different methods of magic. Hopefully nothing would blow up while he was here. Thankfully, after the Ethereal Rift incident, there were a lot more stipulations on what mages could and couldn't do.

It took quite a while for Hawke to reach the top of the tower. Even he was winded when the final step came. His empathy for the mages was growing by the second.

The final door was rusty and everything in the alcove was covered with dust. It creaked and groaned under his power, but gave way and slid inward. A cool blast of air hit him, refreshing him almost instantly. He had to squint to adjust his eyes to the sight of the sun again.

The familiar rustle of feathers met him. He was careful not to disturb any eggs as he stepped into the nest, looking out at the city sprawling below him.

“Don't jump now, princeling. I'd rather not have to rescue you.”

He turned to face the speaker. A bird hybrid, or harpy as they were known. With harpies their bodies were covered in feathers and their feet ended in talons. Wings replaced their arms and they had a head full of feathers. Usually they had beaks instead of mouths and noses, but this one had a human face and the feathers only covered below her waist, wings, and head. The patterns and coloration varied wildly with each one, of course. The one standing in front of Hawke had blue feathers splotched with yellow, in addition to her tanned skin. She wore a simple cotton top and had a necklace of feathers.

There were other harpies around, huddled near their eggs and eyeing him suspiciously. They didn't seem to be threatened by him, so he focused his attention on the girl in front of him. Kalani was her name. She'd been his personal guard for most of his life, despite being only a few years older than him.

“And hello to you too.” Hawke smiled.

“Ah, yes, greetings m'lord and all that formal stuff.” Although clearly being sarcastic, Kalani still gave a disciplined curtsy. “How goes it?”

“Well, the hybrid I told you about needs to get broken out of jail. The necromancer is working on it, probably another affront to humanity in the works. And I formed an agreement with the Hanged Men to sneak me into Argokath, which will likely be an attempt to get me in trouble. Oh, and as it turns out, they're responsible for the aforementioned imprisonment.”

Kalani frowned with worry, though her eyes remained intense as ever. “What do you plan to do? And how can I help?”

“Oh, nothing. Just updating you on the situation.”

She sighed. “Seriously?” She punched the bridge of her nose.

Hawke hid a smirk. “Well, did you check the other ships?”

“... Yes. None of them are going to Argokath that are willing to take hybrids.”

“Well, there you have it.” He waved his hand. “No other options, might as well go ahead with this. Blackmail only works if I actually care about what they have against me.”

She put a clawed hand on her head in frustration. “Do you enjoy torturing me...?”

He laughed. “Don't worry, I doubt I'll be in danger. Not with my companions and you watching over me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Very well, m'lord. I just pray that hybrid you're traveling with doesn't eat you.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “She won't while I'm the prince. She needs to talk to my father. Not sure how that'll go, but still.”

“Right. Well, you know how to get in contact. Keep safe, and I'll be watching from the skies. “

“Keep me safe, lady Sky.” Hawke bowed, Kalani rolling her eyes before jumping off the tower. He watched as she fluttered her wings and flew away, fast as a bullet. Harpy wind elementals were amazing.

#

Mareth

The market was loud enough to drown out the occasional whispers coming out of Mareth's amulet. Everywhere he looked there was someone bargaining or bartering with a merchant. He noticed that Valisa, after their talk, was very quiet. She simply walked around in the limited radius she was allowed and observed the environment and people around her. She was abnormal. Ghosts usually only paid Mareth any mind when cognizant.

He turned his attention from her, looking instead at the market around him. Oasis Bay, and the other port towns in Drima, had unique setups: the usual market stalls were small boats. They lined the canal with goods aplenty. A huge crowd of people lined both on the streets and in the canal itself, one in the canal standing on the water thanks to their elemental abilities and magic. The merchants were paying much more attention to the ones in the canal, as was typical.

Fish, crops hardened for the heat and humidity, herbs, and spices filled his nostrils, an amalgamation of scents that would drive someone like Avira insane. He rubbed his nose to hold in a sneeze.

“Sick? Sore? Wish for longevity? Say no more!”

The scholar looked at a dingy looking stall with a very energetic man. He was tall and lanky, with quite a fabulous mustache. The merchant turned and noticed Mareth staring.

“You, sir!” He waved the mage over with a smile. “If I might say, you look like the weary sort!”

Mareth walked over with a smile. “Well, that's not inaccurate.”

The merchant laughed boisterously “Have I got the thing for you!” He showed Mareth a small vial of liquid. “This elixir is guaranteed to soothe your mind and help you get a restful sleep, with no side effects! And I'm offering it to you for only two silver coins!”

“Interesting. What exactly is in the drink?”

“It's good that you should ask! It's a mix of lamia oil, moonberry, and various other ingredients!”

“I see. And what other items do you have?” Mareth looked to the table on which many goods were showcased.

“Good sir, I have a number of hybrid related medicines and treatments. Why,” He lifted an antler from a deer hybrid. “If you grind this up and mix it in your drink, it will give you heightened stamina in the bedroom. I have the scale of a mermaid, a dagger made from the tusk of a walrus man, all kinds of things!”

A lot of hybrid related stuff, likely procured from slaves or the prison. He noticed a lot of ears and tails on sale, made into accessories. “I see...” Mareth muttered. “Tell you what, I'll buy the elixir of yours for a silver.”

He straightened up a little. “I'll throw in a discount just for you, how's about fifty copper?”

“Very well then.” Mareth pulled the coins out of his bag, setting it on the table in exchange for the vial. “Pleasure doing business.”

Mareth pocketed the vial and pulled out a notebook as he went on his way. As part of his journeys, he'd promised a colleague to research and note various medical practices and deliver it to them when he returned home. It was trivial to do, and he couldn't help but be interested in it. Though Mareth doubted the effectiveness of most of these medicines. He found one village where they'd bury you up to your neck to alleviate a fever. Or one instance where he met a man that purposefully injected himself with small kinds of poisons so they wouldn't affect him as much later.

Mareth couldn't pretend to be an expert in medicine, though. Much of the medical practices of today left him baffled. Bloodletting? Drilling holes in skulls? Just ridiculous. He wondered where society would be if it weren't for magical healing.

He took note of anything he saw in the stalls that might be of interest to his colleague while walking down the path, avoiding the crowds as best he could.

A sign on the wall caught his eye. 'Slave Market. Abnormals, Marked, Ferals. Runics'. An arrow pointed to an arch, leading Mareth to a large plaza filled with rich looking nobles and fellow mages.

Also there on platforms set up to the sides and in the middle were chained people. Most of them were hybrids with a few humans mixed in. Their eyes were a mix of anger and fear, as well as blank and hopeless expressions. Avira wasn't here at least.

“You didn't bring me here to sell me, did you?” Valisa spoke to him directly, once again showing remarkable awareness of the environment.

“Pardon?”

“I can't seem to walk off or disobey you,” she said, “you marked me, right?”

“Oh, no, you're dead,” Mareth replied and walked away.

“I... what!?”

“And tethered to me. Don't worry, I won't make you a battery anytime soon.”

“How— wha— huh?” Her eyes were wide

“Shh. We'll talk later,” Mareth spoke, ignoring her further protests.

Mareth observed the distinct categories in slaves displayed and how they related to the price. The section for 'ferals' was the cheapest, and consisted of wholly hybrids who seemed angry. He noticed green sashes on all of them, and all without fail were straining against their restraints.

“Careful, they will bite!” one of the slave handlers yelled to the crowd, “they're little more than beasts! Get three for a five gold discount!”

Ferals, or hybrids seen as more bestial than normal, weren't in high demand as anything but private fighters which the rich could enter in blood sports. What Mareth thought was interesting is the fact that the term 'feral' to describe someone originated with hybrid tribes.

The next group was 'abnormals' , another group solely consisting of hybrids. This time, however, they were hybrids with defects that made their animal traits appear differently than normal. Instead of ears and a tail, some had a single animal-like leg, or the head of a beast, sometimes even multiple animal parts together. They were mostly desired by noblemen seeking oddities to display, as abnormals were extremely rare. All that were present in the market was a woman with the head of a bear and one bear arm, a man with a duck beak and beaver tail, and a rabbit man with antlers.

“I don't get what the appeal is to buy strange looking people and display them like curios...” Mareth muttered, looking back to Valisa for input. She was still shell-shocked by the revelation of her death.

Next Mareth looked at the Marked. These were slaves, human and hybrids, who bore a magic mark on them which sapped free will and made them compliant with the orders of those registered as their masters. They were one of the most popular forms of slaves in Drima and sought everywhere else despite the nation barring export of Marked. The most interesting part was that the party that did the magical markings were a complete secret. Only the highest seats of power had any knowledge of their origin. From Mareth's perspective, the magical symbols on each slave didn't look like a sigil established mages made.

He was about to move onto the Runics when Witness appeared in front of Mareth, a few passerby walking right through the specter and catching a shiver.

“It's done. I dropped the key into her cell and heard her making plans to go to the sewers,” Witness told Mareth. Noticing Valisa, he leaned in to whisper, “did you tell her?”

“Yes I did.” Mareth said, “but more importantly it sounds like things are progressing. I suppose it's back to the hideout for the next phase.”