By the time travelers had started to walk upon Aetherium’s newly founded bridge, and begun to pass through the massive gates. The walkway of stone was clean and without fault, as if the battle that had taken place upon it was nothing more than a dream’s whim.
Yet it had.
King Ether remained, as he stood before the large group of refugees to give the same speech as he had started before. Many eyes sparkled with amazement at the prospects their life in this land were offering. Basil’s eyes were deadened with thought as he stood to the side, watching the show with abysmal interest.
The youth that was capable of manipulating darkness, a magic that hadn’t been used since the regression of Tenebris. It was that which weighed on his mind so heavily that he barely noticed as the king stood before him again, bearing an inhumanely white smile. “Well, do you have what was requested?”
Basil didn’t shift his body at all, as he glanced left and right motionlessly. It seemed that the welcoming of refugees had been relegated to somebody else, as Ether stood before him with an unnaturally friendly face. He sighed before glancing back past the stone bridge, and to the ground obscured by the clouds.
“I buried their bodies at the base of the bridge, no markers of any kind. You’d be able to find them pretty easily I imagine, with your many mages.” He spoke with confidence, confidence that this would not satisfy the king at all. Confidence which was proven to be without folly as the king’s smile changed.
It was abnormal, how not a single muscle of the monarch’s face twitched or moved at all. Yet Basil could see that his expression had become one of grim expectancy, and one without any degree of surprise. “I asked for their heads.” Basil received his stare and responded by staring back, looking uncaringly into Ether’s incomprehensible eyes.
“I won’t defile a body just for payment.”
The liveliness of the town had died down, as people watched with growing confusion why a single man of unknown origin would so easily have a spat with Aetherium’s ruler. Yet the hushed silence came to an end as the King once again broke into hysterics, laughing like a jolly maniac before once again calming himself. It was a peculiar trait that Basil noted within his mind.
“Very well, though I can’t promise you the full extent of our agreement, I imagine a seamless transition here as well as a night’s pay to the inn will fulfill your needs? Further money should be no issue for a competent warrior such as yourself.” There was a snap of fingers, as one of many stationed guards came forward, the pike in their hands stamping onto the ground with its hilt as he stood at attention.
“See to it that this fine gentleman is given two gold pieces, take him through the citizenship as well, quickly and however he pleases.” The guard stepped back in alarm, having a similar lack of knowledge to the many who watched on. However he chose to not question the ruling class and eventually walked forward.
“Follow me, sir.” The guard said, turning around and beginning to march further into the town, Basil followed along silently. As he did, he watched as the people at the entrance began to slowly liven up again, it wouldn’t be much longer now until the king left. Had he misused this chance?
“Hey.” He spoke, and the guard looked over his shoulder at him with a mixture of emotions. He clearly still was very lost and left in the dark. Basil smiled thinly before looking up at the many homes and abodes that surrounded the road they walked. “What's this town called?” The guard scoffed, clearly offended before answering his question.
“Minerva, the outermost town of the kingdom.”
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The process of becoming a citizen was still a lengthy one, but thanks to that exchange he was able to complete it without having to deal with the usual questions. By the time he had arrived at the aforementioned inn, the twilight hours had begun to strike. Basil’s body ached with pins and needles, but his stomach told him to prioritize food over rest.
He looked down upon his hand, within its palm rested two coins of illustrious gold. Their shimmer still luminous within the moonlight’s rays. As he held them in the open, he could hear the patter of footsteps all around him. Lest he wanted to get into another fight, he chose to enter the inn swiftly, obscuring the coins within his clenched fist.
It was about what he had expected on the inside, two tables with chairs strewn between them, a couple of folk at one playing a simple game of cards. While at the other a single man sat in silence drinking from a small mug. He glanced past that and at the innkeeper, who was looking at him with knowing eyes. Her frame was small, but her body seemed lean and muscular, likely as a result of the time spent working here.
“The odd man chooses to stay here?” Basil’s ears perked up at that, as the girl spoke with a surprising amount of confidence. In his eyes she was still quite young, so her mature voice was an unexpected sound. Yet he remained steadfast as he stood in front of her, divided only by the bar of wood, where a few empty cups and plates rested.
“Odd?” He questioned, inspecting her for any tells. “Everybody in town is aware of the mystery man that talked to the king like he was their brother, and got out of it not only alive, but richer.” He sighed, a little relieved that the reason for his notoriety was something so small.
To him at least, the idea of talking like that to a king wasn’t so beyond him. A thought he would have to discard to live here, most likely. “Well, you’re right about one thing, I need a place to stay, and food.” The innkeeper looked at him with half lidded eyes, clearly sarcastic. He nodded before stepping closer, making sure that the space between the two was obscured by any watching eyes before dropping the two gold coins onto the bar. The innkeeper’s eyes widened very slightly, and Basil watched with curiosity as her breaths quickened.
So, a gold coin must be worth a lot, let alone two. That accursed Ether was clearly underselling their value to him. Which meant the king had noticed something about Basil, something he hadn’t meant to slip.
“I can’t possibly take this just for a day, you could stay here for months with that kind of money..” She whispered, clearly understanding the secrecy he desired. He shrugged and pulled one of the two coins from the bar, and spoke gently. “I’ll only need a week at most, take it as advance payment. As for food?”
The innkeeper still hesitated, and Basil had to commend her father for raising such an careful woman. It would be natural to simply take the payment without any consideration, but she weighed her options before quickly pulling the coin from the bar. “There's a tavern nearby, just keep heading further into town and keep an eye on your left. They should still be open at this hour.”
“Thanks.” He gave the innkeeper a brisk wave before turning around and striding out into the night roads again. Though he was certain that such a kind person was likely trying to think of a way to say thank you to him instead.
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Minerva’s Mark.
It was a silly name for a place of cheer and drink, but considering the town’s already ridiculous name, the stretch wasn’t as far as he had first thought. The tavern reverberated with noise, and unfortunately for him, was his only option at this late hour.
As he went through the steel plated door of wood, a mug smashed against the wall right beside him, covering him in the remnants of rum left within its shell. He took a deep breath, before moving forward, ignoring the chaos. People were fighting amongst themselves, over what seemed to be an arm wrestling competition. He saw it as nothing more than a useless contest of strength.
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He strode forward to where the bartender sat, the man eyed him suspiciously while keeping his focus on the animalistic brawls erupting far to Basil’s left. “Here to place your hand in the pot?” The man queried, to which Basil shook his head and threw the man the golden coin.
The bartender caught it within his palm, his expression unchanging. This one was far older than the innkeeper he had met just a while ago. “Something tells me you’re overpaying.” He spoke in thin whispers, as if he couldn’t even bring himself to speak louder. Basil nodded, not wanting to draw further attention to their conversation.
After a few more words of exchange, he sat down in a chair on his own, far away from the madness. It seemed like the fighting would find no end, and Basil had no desire to help them look for one. Instead he looked down at the plates laid before him, slices of cheese painted bread alongside two small herrings, by their darkened skin he assumed they were roasted over an open fire.
It wasn’t how he liked to eat fish, but he wasn’t given much choice.
He ate quietly, the fish’s crisped flesh breaking to instead flood him with the delicate and flaky sweet flavor. Manners that had remained under lock and key broke out, making his actions subtle and composed. It may not have been his preferred way, but this wasn’t as bad as he was expecting. He finished the first herring rather quickly, and he began to grow slightly excited about eating the second.
Until a man’s fist slammed into his plate, completely crushing and ruining the meal before him.
Basil looked down at the plate, broken to pieces along with the table. He looked up at the cause, who was sneering angrily. “Immigrant brat, you don't get to eat good shit yet.” The man was definitely well built, and his eyes were crossing over each other like branches. Clearly drunk. The bartender began to move from his own place, but Basil raised a hand, requesting his inaction. The old man paused, bemused.
Basil stood up, stepping out from his seat to stand before the drunk. “I didn’t plan on fighting twice in the same day, but you’ve committed a severe offense.” The man scoffed, and eyed Basil’s blade. “What are you going to do, cut me up?”
Basil looked down at his weapon’s sheathed edge, and bore a smug grin before bringing a hand to the scabbard. With a simple click the sheath was removed from his hip, and thrown back onto his seat. “I don’t need anything for you.” He spat, cocky as can be.
The man cracked his knuckles, and pulled his arm back for a swing. Basil could see it coming effortlessly, a left hook that he could easily duck under, leaving his legs wide open for a sweep.
Before he could put that plan into action however, the man pulled back. He blinked twice, confused as to why the fight had stopped before it even began. He felt an unfamiliar pressure to his core, and the feeling caused him to grow alert.
It was then that he looked at the woman who stood between them. A girl with auburn locks, and with her hands planted on both men’s chests.
“This isn’t worth fighting for.” She remarked, her voice the slightest bit shrill. She looked Basil in the eyes and whispered, “I’ll buy you a new round.” His eyes widened slightly, as she removed her hand from his center and gently directed the larger man back to his group. The giant drunk left without much protest, seemingly intimidated.
He touched his own chest, confused, and it took him a while until he realized where this shock was coming from. Never before in his life had somebody taken his back, let alone his front. He looked on in awe as the lady purchased yet another batch of food. Larger than his original meal.
Before he could protest, he felt himself being pulled along and seated at a new table, the woman sitting opposite to him. Basil eyed her with a tint of suspicion, and slid his newly gifted plate to the side. “So, what was that about?” The girl asked before he could speak his own query, to which he arched a brow.
“That man wanted to fight me over nothing.”
“You clearly wanted to fight him too.”
Basil blinked twice for the second time today, as he looked her over. Aside from the brown hair, her eyes were a hungry light green. He hadn’t been paying too much attention to the people around him, but this girl’s appearance felt offset from the rest. She smiled thinly as she planted her hands on the table, clasping them over one another.
“Eating like that, whether you intend to or not, is just acting high and mighty.” Basil was amused at the phrasing, it couldn’t be more accurate. “You’re perceptive.” He remarked, to which she shrugged. “Helps keep oneself alive in this place.”
“Is it that dangerous here?”
“More dangerous in Aetherium than out of Aetherium.” The girl said, before offering her hand to Basil in greeting. “My name is Avar, and I think you and I have something in common.” He watched as her arm outstretched, and after half a moment’s pause he shook her hand.
“How so?” Basil queried, no longer feeling hungry as this girl had managed to pique his curiosity. Avar looked him up and down, and took a deep breath. “We want peace and quiet, to live here in relaxation.”
Basil looked back at the food he had set aside, pulling from beside it the drink she had brought to the table. He looked it over to confirm that it lacked alcohol, before taking a swig. He preferred to drink water after all. When he had finished, he placed the mug down before looking her in the eyes. “Not what I want.”
“Pardon?”
Basil sighed, before crossing one leg over the other. “I want to make a name for myself, climb my way to the top of this kingdom, become the king’s right hand, and become a legend.” It was such a ridiculous declaration, but worded in such a mellow voice that one might think he was simply retelling a fact.
“That's quite the dream.” Avar whispered after a deliberate pause, her eyes brimming with words of mockery that her mouth refused to utter. Basil had expected this of course, but it wasn’t going to stop him from speaking his piece.
“Dream of my youth.” He added simply, before pushing the mug to the side. “Thanks for the compensation, but you can keep it for yourself. I need some rest.” He rose from the chair, and began to move away before feeling something latch around his arm.
He almost instantly pulled away, but stopped as he realized it was no weapon, but instead Avar’s hand. Once again she had effortlessly gotten to him, and he was none the wiser. He looked back at her while trying to hide his awe from his face.
Her eyes were still full of hunger. “At the very least, can we talk here tomorrow? I need your help.”
Basil gently pulled his arm from her grasp, holding his wrist with the other as he inspected it, it showed no signs of being pressured. Her grip was very light. “You’re clearly fine, if you need help, ask one of the guards.”
“It's not something I could bring to the guards.” Avar whispered, to which Basil looked back at her with an annoyed glare. “What's so special that you need my help?”
“Revenge.”
There was a drawn out silence, before the tavern erupted with one loud noise. All of its patrons turned to the commotion, as a second table laid broken between the man and woman. It wasn’t in two halves however, it had shattered like glass.
Avar looked up at him, but her eyes widened slightly in fear. Basil didn’t really know why, maybe it was the way he looked, maybe it's the way his arm almost seemed to smoke from the blow. Those who still drank were staring at him, watching as he heaved slowly, his arm now a dark red from the strike. He however didn’t care at the moment, as his thoughts were elsewhere.
He looked down at Avar and spoke coldly. “Tomorrow, at sunset, here.” His sight was locked anywhere but Avar.
Avar nervously nodded, and Basil walked over silently to the other table from before, grabbing his sheath from the seat and clipping it onto his hip as he left the bar. Nobody contested him, nobody stopped him, at the moment, all were afraid of him.
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His mind was foggy as he almost wandered aimlessly in the direction of the inn. Laughter from days past mocked him from all around, as his senses began to decay.
“Revenge, huh?” He said to the clouds that hung low above him. In the many years he had lived, the word had become so intimate yet alien with his very being. It gave him an icy cold spark within his heart, one that was beginning to become a frozen flame.
Something moved within the darkness, as a knife wielding thief barreled at him full force. He barely looked at them as they yelled some unintelligible nonsense.
“Don’t waste my time.” He remarked, as his sword unsheathed itself, sliding into his hand instantly to knock the small blade from the thief’s hand. Before they could even react, he brought his blade down.
The thief cried in pain, clutching at the blood spewing stump where his arm had once resided. Basil continued walking past, holding that same limb with one hand as he sheathed his blade with the other. “I need to get some sleep after all, can’t be wasting time.” He threw the foreign part to the ground before him.
The arm was squashed underfoot, as he looked up at the sky. Not even the moon took to the skies to overlook him, as time stood at the interstice between both celestial bodies.
“Revenge, huh?”
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