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Fatal Path 1
To Make the Mundane Arcane

To Make the Mundane Arcane

The governor’s mansion of Ade was situated outside of the town proper, within its own walled enclave. It was separate, but not so far that one could not simply walk to and from in a short time. Many residences lay outside the walls of Ade, giving it a sprawl that would seem like a growing mold from above, with one peculiarity: none were situated between the city and its governance.

The road was kept clear by Medeah’s edicts, and enforced by the frequent patrols of guards meant that anyone looking to leave the Medean enclave had to be clever about their comings and goings. Ketta was clever, and had long learned how they could spoof their activities without arousing suspicion.

  It wasn’t that Ketta thought that what they were doing was wrong. They merely wanted to leave the walled area in peace and socialize with normal people for a while. Talk to someone that wasn’t the governor or under his direct employ. They wanted friends, but Orivaugn did not approve. While he had never explicitly forbade such actions- the only reason Ketta had been comfortable bending the rules, historically- he consistently reacted negatively when they had been open about their activities, so they had become far more clandestine.

  Nowadays, Ketta went on shopping trips with very few purchases, did inspections where the guards had a hard time keeping up, or communicating with local community figures as an official of the Medeahs. They recently had used the shopping trip excuse, and so was out “communicating” today with local figures- figures who just so happened to be Ketta’s friends.

  While Orivaughn would consistently push that such meetings should happen within the enclave grounds for security purposes, Ketta insisted upon a few locations that would better serve to send the messages the Medeahs wanted to send by establishing communication where locals felt more comfortable. It was bogus, but Orivaughn ultimately relented, giving them a few meeting rooms where they could invite others and have some of the only talks free from the ears of the Medean Consul. Supposedly, Ketta was those ears.

  Today, Ketta had chosen the upper floor of an upscale restaurant. The entire floor was cleared of normal clientele, and all other tables and chairs had been moved to the sides of the room. Guards were posted at the bottom of the flight of stairs that led up, and allowed the servers to pass them after a brief inspection. The guards were too far to eavesdrop, but close enough to come when called or if commotion broke out.

  Sitting around the llarge, ornate wooden table- An opulent and expensive item in the desert environs of Ade- were three people. One was a portly man with skin reminiscent of red, unfired clay, a typical color for the Adstrani people. His hair was grey and thin, reflecting his age. It didn’t seem to bother him, as we wore a bright smile by default, one that endeared more people to him with his typically sunny disposition. This was the once captain Quintus, recently removed from service. He had been invited to the meeting as a kind of debriefing, or so Ketta told Orivaughn, to ensure he didn’t take his removal unkindly. Outwardly, he didn’t seem to.

  The other person was a young brunette named Crystal. She was just a little shorter than Quintus, but taller than Ketta by several inches. She had a very lanky build, with shoulders that wouldn't seem so broad if only she wasn’t so gangly. She dressed in looser clothes, self-conscious of her appearance. She was also an aspiring alchemist, interested in the pharmacy that had recently been “vacated” by its owner. She was invited to discuss that very topic. Just because that was the stated reason for their meeting, the reality was far more casual.

  “I don’t know Crystal, I think you should try something more form fitting,” Ketta suggested.

  “I really don't think I could pull it off. I don’t really have the right frame, you know?” Crystal said with a scratch of her head.

  “At least you have a frame that can fit into most clothes!” Quintus guffawed as Ketta gave him a flat look. Ketta rolled her eyes and resumed.

  “There are other options. I’ve been there, your body is still shifting, still pretty young, trying to figure out what style is your style. For me, I found these more rigid vestments to strike a healthy balance between professionalism and androgyny.”

  “You must always be boiling in those!” Crystal said, plucking at her sheer fabrics. “At least these keep me cool.”

  “But, if you’re really unsure of yourself, I could always give you a little boost-” Ketta offered, but was cut off.

  “No,” Crystal said, “I’ve told you before, that completely undermines my experiment. It has to be my way.”

  “I’m sorry to intrude, young lady, but what exactly is your experiment?” Quintus asked.

  Crystal looked to Ketta for reassurance, who gave it by way of a smiling nod, a gesture that said ‘go ahead!’.

  “Well,” Crystal began awkwardly, “It’s a kind of, how should I put it. Feminine enhancement?”

  Ketta again nodded encouragement. Crystal took a breath and continued.

  “It’s a medicine aimed at women like myself. I haven’t really filled out at all. I doubt I will, at this point. That is, unless I can do something to change that. I think I have something that will work, but it’s still in early stages. I’ve run as many tests as I can think to test for toxicity and the like, and I feel confident to begin a trial. I am that trial,” Crystal explained.

  Quintus’s eyebrows raised as his face took on an impressed expression.

  “You really think this will work?” Quintus asked.

  “Well, honestly, no. Not yet,” Crystal admitted, “This isn’t the first trial, even. I’ve been trying for some time now. I’ve seen some early, promising results, but as you can tell, it’s still not much.”

  “But to do that, she’ll need a space to work in. We recently seized a pharmacy, and I have a great interest in Ms. Crystal’s project. While the product itself isn’t something I’m interested in, the idea of pharmaceuticals that can help others is very appealing. I will be funding her in this venture, though we are supposed to be finalizing that with this talk. Here are those parchments, sign off on them and the deal is finalized.”

  “Wait, I’m confused,” Quintus said with a shake of his head, “Why does it matter if you can maybe give people this maybe medicine when you can just wave your hand and change ‘em, Ketta? Everyone in the guardhouse knows that you’re a Miracle who can just up and change people. Don’t worry, I won’t tell, but why not just do that? This stuff will take, what, years to work? More? You can just do it in a moment and have it done right!”

  “It’s more complicated than that,” Ketta said with reluctance. “And I don’t care about it being a secret, that’s Ori’s hangup, not mine.”

  “So, what’s so complicated?” He asked.

  Ketta looked around nervously. They leaned closer, and spoke in a hushed tone.

  “I may not care about my own secret, but I don’t want to provoke Ori, okay? You’ll have to promise not to let this slip. Not to anyone, okay?”

  The other two took a moment to think about it, and each nodded.

  “We promise.” Crystal said.

  Ketta glanced to each side- not that there was anyone else in the vicinity- and lifted their bangs up. Beneath was a large, curved scar that ran from one side of their hairline to the other, then disappeared under their hair again.

  “A scar? Don’t worry, Ketta, you look fine. I won’t tell a soul,” Quintus said with a chuckle.

  “Nothing so vapid you fat old man!” Ketta said with a hiss. “Most of it is hidden by my hair. It’s the mark I left on myself when I made me, well, me.”

  Quintus’s perennial smile dropped and Crystal leaned in closer with interest. Her tail could be heard tapping the sides of the chair as it whipped from side to side.

  “I’m sorry, Ketta, but I’m still not putting it together,” Quintus said with a serious expression. “What do you mean, mark?”

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  Ketta leaned back and crossed their arms.

  “Whenever I do something with my power, I leave a mark. The more power I use, the bigger the mark. I changed my whole body, so the mark is pretty big, covering the crown of my head. Whenever I change someone else, they get a mark too. Usually shows up as a scar, but once or twice it showed up looking like a birthmark. It’s intricate, too. Seems unique every time.”

  Crystal and Quintus looked at each other with amazement, then back to Ketta.

  “Can you show us?” Crystal asked.

  Ketta sighed and called for a guard, telling them to order a steak. Several minutes later, the guard returned with a freshly seared steak of one of the local livestock, placing it on the table before returning to his post.

  “That’s convenient,” Crystal noted.

  “Used to be me, back in the day!” Quintus laughed, not bothering to reflect on his current lack of occupation.

  Ketta brought the steak close to themself and focused. The steak was originally a medallion of meat, but as they focused, the steak molded and reshaped itself. The flesh and bone didn’t seem to melt, yet they flowed like syrup as a small pyramid of meat with a bony bottom took shape. It seemed smaller than the original steak, but only because Ketta used the flat slab to make a three-dimensional object. The meat pyramid did steam somewhat, though from existing heat or new heat the process added, they didn’t know.

  Ketta grabbed the meat pyramid that squished in their hand and lifted it to reveal the bone plate that was the bottom of the pyramid. Embossed into the bone was a wildly intricate circle, with many smaller circles within. Line darted throughout, connected the edges of the circle to other shapes and sigils that lay within. The amount of complexity strained the eye, Quintus and Crystal having to lean in to see the mess of shapes in the bone.

  Ketta turned it to get a glance for themself.

  “Oh, this one’s a pretty one,” They said, as though this were an everyday event for them. In a way, it was. “Do you want this, Crystal? I don’t really eat meat.”

  Crystal's eyes lit up and eagerly accepted the rare treat.

  “To answer your questions, Quintus, I can’t just go doing this to anyone or this knowledge will get out. Ori doesn’t want that, for some reason. He’s been having me use my power from time to time and having his men study it. I have no idea what he’s expecting to find, but it keeps him happy, which is all I care about.”

  Quintus nodded as he listened. He sat there as he processed the information, while Crystal devoured the strangely shaped steak. After a moment, his eyes snapped open.

  “Hold on a minute,” he said, “What are the limits?

  His tail flicked behind him, belying a greater sense of stress and concern than his voice gave off. Ketta was taken aback somewhat, stricken by the sudden shift in tone coming from the normally jovial man.

  “I- not really any. It just has to be a physical change to flesh and bone, and I have to understand the idea. That’s it, really,” Ketta said, uncertain what the man was getting at.

  “So then, you could just as easily change someone’s hair as snap their neck,” Quintus said, his voice flat.

  Crystal had just been finishing the food when Quintus said this and stopped before the last bite. Ketta’s face went pale and wide-eyed with the realization they had said too much.

  “Quintus, I shouldn’t have said-”

  “You’ve been the one doing it. The boys were right,” he said with a haunted look in his eyes. “They’d joke that you were the real power but no one could ever prove that, just hunches. Now I know they’re right.”

  Quintus brought his gaze to Ketta and spoke his next words carefully, taking care not to sound accusatory, but merely stating a fact.

  “You killed those protesters. Not Orivaughn.”

  Ketta’s eyes began to water. Crystal began to say something, but Ketta’s head dropping into her folded arms arrested her for the moment. Ketta sobbed as the other two watched on.

  One of the guards raced up the stairs.

  “Is everything alright, Sir?”

  Ketta lifted a hand and waved them away with a sob-filled command to return to their post. The guard signaled understanding and left. After several minutes, they finally spoke, breaking the silence.

  "I can’t even tell anyone,” Ketta whimpered.

  Crystal once again opened her mouth to say something, but couldn’t come up with anything. Quintus beat her to it.

  “Taking lives isn’t easy,” He said softly, “I get it. Sometimes you have to, but it never feels good. So, when Orivaughn told those protesters to die, he was actually… commanding you?”

  Ketta said nothing, only nodding with their head down.

  Former Captain Quintus snaked his hand out, gently grabbing Ketta’s hand and pulling it out. He had a smile on again, not as bright as his typical smile. This was a smile of gentle reassurance, and as Ketta looked up, they smiled back weakly.

  “You didn’t abandon me when your man fired me. That means a lot to me. Your secret’s safe with me,” Quintus said.

  Crystal reached out and took Ketta’s other hand.

  “You’re sticking your neck out for me, as well,” Crystal said. “I’ve only known you a short time, but you’re also one of the few people who gets me. On top of that, you’re making my dream a reality. You’d best believe I’m not betraying that kind of friend.”

  Ketta smiled at the two, their cheeks still soaked with tears, strands of hair sticking to their face. They squeezed the other’s hands.

  “That means a lot to me. And I feel oddly relieved? Not that you won’t tell, though that too, but rather…” They trailed off.

  “It helps not feeling alone?” Crystal offered.

  “Yeah. That’s it,” Ketta agreed.

  They all shared a light laugh to ease the tension. Ketta wiped the tears out of their eyes and made themselves a bit more presentable once more.

  “Now,” Ketta began, “We should get some of the ‘official’ things out of the way. I don’t want Ori getting suspicious of my little outings.”

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Hugh, Elody, and Sam were beginning to settle into a routine in Hearth. They knew they’d all be there for quite some time- about another month, which to a traveling merchant was an eternity to be in one place. Each of them had to figure out how they would make productive use of their time.

  Hugh’s routine was the easiest to settle into; He went to the Gear Barrow early in the morning, and stayed into the afternoon as he stayed for lectures. Occasionally, he would discuss things with Malthus afterwards, making sure he understood what was being taught or expand upon the lecture. The rest of the time, he would go back to the Slippery Jack and spend time with Elody as she relaxed. He would try to keep up reports to Sam about his educational progress, but it became apparent that they would be both better off if Hugh kept it simple and Sam simply took his word for things.

  Elody was finally able to procure some basic necessities for pharmacy. Not only did she get some tools, such as a grinding bowl, measuring equipment, and boiling flasks, but she also managed to source a place where she could purchase some medical plants she was familiar with on one of her short freetime walks. When she informed Sam that she could begin producing a small selection of poultices and ointments, Sam was elated. Elody was less so, though still happier for the new arrangement. As much as she appreciated having something to do that she was comfortable with, the cramped confines of the wagon chafed, and constantly reminded her of the pharmacy she once but no longer had. The bittersweet tang of this development left Elody with a desire for more, and her mind often wandered to the things she wanted to do to Orivaughn Medeah.

  Sam, meanwhile, struggled with little success to occupy his time. By the end of the first week, he had arranged most of the deals he would need to make. He tried to reach out and make connections, but something about it didn’t sit right with him now. Ever since he told Elody about his past, he found that something in his heart had shifted. The other part of him had gotten a foot in the door, and just the slightest trickle was seeping out into him, and it gave him, for the first time since he had set out on the journey of entrepreneurship, doubt. He did made those connections anyways, of course. His was a hard habit to break, but after telling his story in full and in such retrospect, he found himself thinking about it, and what that really meant.

  It was to his relief, then, that Elody announced that she was able to produce a small selection of pharmaceutical goods. That gave him another revenue stream to work with, and he promised to help her stock up on supplies for the upcoming trip, intending on having her work whenever reasonable. When he asked why she couldn’t produce potions nor pills, she told him that one required a consistent heat source that they couldn’t afford to do in the wooden wagon, and the other needed special equipment to shape and compress. Sam shrugged, and trusted her word.

  While Sam didn’t understand what Hugh meant when he explained what he was learning, it was clear that he was advancing at a breakneck pace. Ideas and concepts he talked about having learned one day were things he was exploring heavily and extrapolating on days later. Sam tuned it all out, by and large, as he was unable to grasp the bulk of it. Asking questions would only slow Hugh down, and Sam clearly couldn’t keep up.

  This was the pattern the three kept for several weeks. As the time went by, each of them looked forward to the end of their stay to varying degrees. Hugh was reluctant, but also curious to see more of the world. Sam and Elody, however, were eager to get a move on, Sam to new destinations and Elody one step closer to her goal.

Sam was quite interested, then, when one day Hugh came back not with words and explanations, but something physical. He held a finger to his lips as he uncovered the item. A slate, like the one he carried to lessons, but instead of chalk covering it, there was an engraving, filled with painted lines of rainbow colors. It was a circle, filled with lines and small, intricate shapes, all interconnected in strange lines and markings.

  “What’s this?” Sam asked quietly, deciding to respect Hugh's implicit request for low voices.

  “This,” Hugh explained in a hushed tone, “Is a prototype.”