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Eternity Theory
4: Two demons walk into a bar. One pretends to be a human.

4: Two demons walk into a bar. One pretends to be a human.

The open window of the hovering cab they rode on offered only sights with little else for feedback, but the sights themselves captivated Aleph. Barriers that blocked out sound were common enough in the city that the clamor was far more muted than what the urban sprawl suggested. At least, until they had come upon this part of town.

As the sound of fans spinning to motion once more were carried away from them, distant insults of dubious origin and smells both pleasant and repugnant returned to Mortum as they neared the invisible line that represented the district, and on the doorstep of the Oily Cambross, they returned in full swing. Ravanaugh, whose first name was not yet known to him, gave two short knocks, two staggered ones, and a beat later the door swung open of it’s own accord.

The smell of booze and fresh food made it’s way to his nose in the same moment as drunken yells, clinking glasses, and general chaos shot into his ears. Stepping past long pots that held a plant whose coloration seemed to change each time you looked away, Aleph scanned his eyes across the room. It would have required hours to take in the full of the action going on in this firstly quaint tavern, but in the moments he had, he could already see an avian man and a small gnomish creature wrestling in the corner; three stone men lined up at a long, tall bar in the many hues of grey and muttering to each other in gravelly voices; a performer fighting off wispy figures that dissipated with each kick, punch, jab he connected; and even a set of five elves and some dwarf playing with tabletop figures in a better lit side of the room. The ‘tavern’ was bisected by a long dance floor that ran vertically perpendicular to the bar at the opposite end, itself swelling into the five tables that were parallel to it on each side.. He even caught a glimpse of more than a few dancing them, much to a bouncer or two’s chagrin. Despite the frantic movements of the figures at the center of the room, it was the bar that attracted his attention in the chaos.

In retrospect, it would be obvious why; it was naturally the one figure that wasn’t in a perpetual state of motion that caught Aleph’s eye. Behind the bar sat a scaly humanoid far departed from images Aleph had of kobolds or lizardmen, his scales extremely small and their brow set into a permanent scowl by way of their forehead being shaped in a manner that curved a little over their eyes. Past this was a sheer boredom recognizable even from someone who hadn’t seen so much as a fairy throughout their entire natural life. In spite of this, all of the pandemonium centered around them, delivering drinks with a glance and a point of their finger, drawing cups out of the cabinets and sending them on their way with booze laden within. Even so, when Ravanaugh stepped in, it was as though their entire stance shifted, and they excitedly shouted in our direction. All Aleph could catch was the moniker ‘Rav’, though, as they were on the other side of a crowd of people and he couldn’t process everything they were even saying.

Better yet, they spoke in another entirely new language, using noises that sounded almost like guttural barking when spoken by a human. As Aleph listened to the ‘syllables’, he became unsure of whether or not a human’s vocal cords could actually do that. Or if they even should.

She widely and exaggeratedly- to be able to be seen from here- gestured at Aleph near the end of the conversation, signaling an end to the deer in headlights looks he threw in seemingly every direction. He expected the inhabitants to stop what they were doing in the commotion with how the drinks stopped flowing, but to his surprise, they didn’t. Despite being locked into conversation with Ravanaugh, the lizardman still managed to perfectly respond to the orders being put through by the occasional distant shout or request, his telekinesis proving much more impressive than it already was. So, far fewer than he thought actually paid any mind to the strange human at the door.

“Alright, Aleph.” She said, suddenly addressing him, “He’s a friend of mine, and we owe each other a few favors. We’ll talk about it more in one of the private booths.” She gestured to an opposite wall to the left of the bar, with some curtained booths set into it that were, indeed, sitting there for private use. None of them seemed occupied, curtains open. exposing sequined couches that curved around the table at their center in an upside-down ‘u’ that tapered off at the sides.

“Very nice of him…” Aleph started, before deciding to go off on a limb, slightly, “...Rav? So that was your first name this entire time?”

Ravanaugh, to her credit, only barely failed at stifling her laughter, “We get here, to this dingy place-” She speaks some more of that barking dialect, to which the barman only gives out a short chuckle of their own before waving her off, “-and all you have to say is that you thought my first name was my second? I think we’ll get along just fine… Al? No, that doesn’t sound right. Aleph it is, for now. We can discuss needlessly-simplified nicknames once we’re out of this crowd.”

And indeed it was- a crowd, that is. They had to cross through a span of the “dance floor”. There was no clear cohesion to what song was played by the DJ or random performers, resulting in the place being packed and choked with sound, smell, touch, and even taste for a few unlucky contenders. Even despite this, the learned attendees gave wide berths to those with outpointed horns or fangs, and Aleph very much believed in the “in Rome, do as the Romans do” mentality as he budged past many, many partygoers, the swell of them leaving no way out but through.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

Aleph briefly considered how he’d get out of this place if it was set on fire. He only briefly hesitated in his train of thought before concluding, wisely, that the solution was probably magic bullshit.

Once they were on the other side, Aleph briefly reconvened with Ravanaugh, who was again speaking with the wizard lizard still magically delivering beverages. Once he made his way there, the human and lizardman quickly parted and the two of them, “Rav” and Aleph, sought out the nearest booth.

A basic interior awaited them, but looks aren’t everything. The two of them stepped in to sit on each side of the semicircle booth and the black curtain automatically swung closed. Runes shimmered for the barest second, and the hustle and bustle of the outside faded away to near-silence like a distant dream.

“So.” Aleph began, taking initiative. “I don’t even know where I am, really. Or where I…” He considered his amnesia- he couldn’t draw back to it too much, that’s how you get caught out on a lie. And who knows who was listening, even now.

It certainly paid to be paranoid so far, so...

“...well, that whole thing.” he decided to settle for, pressing his palms together. “Mortum is very different from anywhere I’ve lived. Really orderly, but nothing to combat the smog and noise. Nothing like what I’ve seen here. I feel like so much of what I need to learn is going to have to come from the ground up.”

Ravanaugh nodded, “It doesn’t have to be.” She said, a cheshire grin planting itself on her face, “See, I provide a… service. There are many ways to learn quickly in a place like this, but they’re all barred from an unreputable human who just stepped into town. This isn’t your typical flavor of elven racism either- the Law simply doesn’t allow it. Too many who went too far too fast and made everyone else pay the price, so to speak. You’d have to figure things out the hard way. Spend years in the ‘Free Archive’ just to understand the basics. Maybe pick up a side job in the meantime- if you’re lucky. Half of Mortum’s population consists of elves. They don’t get over grudges easily, your kind hasn’t been nice to them until more recently. With how the refugee crisis is turning out, I can’t see you just skirting by as-is. Not without… assistance.”

She let the final word hang in the air, giving him ample time to absorb what she had just said. “I have already invested quite a bit into you, but I’ll tell you one more thing for free. That coat- it’s not just the local fashion. Mortum worships three gods above all, but all you need to know for now that the second is Fashion and the third is Law. Among their blessings is that coat, and it isn’t the temperature control. That’s the work of mortals. This thing- it is an ID, a uniform, a credit line, and an artifact all in one. Every resident needs their own coat to use a vast majority of the city’s public amenities. And it’s not cheap. They can only sell a certain number, and even those don’t typically sell out. You owe me, now.”

Aleph stilled, staring directly at the only other human he’s met so far, his proverbial hackles raising.

This is what it cost me? Trading one set of shackles for another? Damn it, I should have known there was a pri-

“However, I didn’t just do this to put you in my debt. A normal human wouldn’t ever be able to pay off such a sum in this economy. I might have exchanged my ‘service’, then bought them a ticket to somewhere less xenophobic- less tense from the disaster. But you’re different. Completely different. Really, I’m surprised somebody like you fell into my lap like this.”

Aleph kept careful track of the turn in conversation. She was making a very careful pitch here; she clearly knew about him, somehow. But how? And to what extent? He didn’t feel like drawing this out any longer than it needed to; he was uncomfortable already. He tried to be curt, but felt some of his anger come out in the form of a slightly sharper tone than he intended. “Ravanaugh? Please, get to the point.”

Ravanaugh didn’t reply immediately, instead, she pressed her hands to her temples, closed her eyes, and began to unravel. The coat she wore shone red for each second that passed, making increasingly drastic changes to itself at each passing glow. Her skin turned a redder color, forming chitin-like harder and tougher skin in some places, softened to a supple pink in others. A pair of horns grew like pointed stalagmites from just above her hairline, curving back sharply near the peak. Her ears and teeth grew that much sharper, the latter blunting out at the point however. Claws also began to form, but similarly those receded to more manageable fingernails and skin. Suddenly, it all stopped, and she shuddered a little before her expanded, breathable garb shone all at once and then similarly ended it’s lightshow.

She opened her eyes, and revealed black sclera that enveloped a bright blue flamish set of pupils. Her whole demeanor changed with the complete shift, and her emotions lay as bare to him as she seemed to breathe in his. Then, she finished her pitch. Each syllable carried a weight to it was always tucked behind a curtain of it’s own, before, but now even that was gone. “I am Ravanaughtilus Tinrankus Vauntergale, Succubus of the Second Step. Demon of Change. What I want, is to exchange Knowledge with you.” And like everything else, what was once a simple cheshire smile warped into a sharp, perfectly symmetrical, predatory grin.