He dreamt of swimming down a river of golden light, nature surrounding him an all sides. Energy coursing through every ounce of plant life. The tree's leaves tinged blue and radiating a calming aura.
As Goldie floated along the shimmering stream, its warming energy streaming through him, he felt at peace. The world and him living in absolute harmony.
After spending what seemed like an eternity in this state he began feeling wary. The energy that coursed through him for so long no longer resonating with his inner being. His body shuddered as his soul seemed to rebel against the force's soothing light. His inner self opposed the force with ever-increasing vigor, trying to remove it from every inch of his body. The feeling was comparable to being drowned in a vat of boiling water, except instead of the heat invading his pores, it permeated outwards from his core.
Goldie wanted to scream.
He wanted to thrash around.
He wanted to scratch at every inch of his body.
He wanted to drown himself in a mountain of snow.
He just wanted to move.
Wanted to cry.
To die.
But he couldn't. His body was completely paralyzed, and his mind refused to shut off. There was no escaping the torment. Eons passed with him in this state. He started believing he might have died and been cast into the deepest hell of Nérjâka. The eternal torment reserved for only the gravest of sinners. While evaluating his life, sorting through every memory he could recall, he remembered what brought him to this place. That backstabbing bastard! No doubt he robbed Goldie blind after killing him.
But was he truly dead? He thought back to the last sentence he heard before having been consumed by darkness.
"We're thieves, not murderers."
That was what Garen said, if that was even his real name. But if he hadn't perished, then where was he? What is this place? As he pondered his newfound questions, the pain eased. The calming tides once again flooding his senses.
Of course this wasn't punishment. This was bliss. The comforting waves dulled his senses, the pain reduced to nothing more than a slight itch.
An inkling of thought spread through Goldie's mind. Wasn't this itch similar to when he remembered misfortunate events? Not only that; he felt it every time he doubted something. Was it intuition? No, it was more like his critical thought had been tied to a chair and the itching came whenever it tried to loosen its binding. But then why did he not feel it around Garen? In retrospect he was obviously the prime suspect concerning the stolen money. But his reassuring voice squashed all of Goldie's doubts whenever he spoke. It was like his critical thought wasn't just tied to a chair around him, but stuffed into a soundproof box.
Dread spread across his mind, as a familiar burning sensation returned to his skin. It felt so uplifting to be around Garen. Goldie remembered the charisma tugging him along whenever the warrior spoke. Was it mind control? No it was more vague. Emotional control?
Realization dawned upon him.
This place... This energy around me; connecting me to the world; making me feel at ease and happy.
It was a lie.
Was Flousshire really that great? He had never even thought about it. It was a matter of fact to him. His hometown was obviously a great place, every inhabitant agreed. But why? All he ever did was work. Work from the morning until the evening. The only breaks he took were for food and rest. It wasn't only him who had no deep personal relationships, nobody did. They were all focused on doing their jobs as well as possible. Everyone loved their jobs and lived to work. In cases like Frederik even slowly working themselves to death. But why would anybody do such a thing? He'd been brainwashed into conformity his whole life. Everybody was.
No more
This influence would bind him no longer.
No more!
His skin was burning.
His veins were pumping liquid magma through his body.
His head felt like a volcano was erupting inside it and threatening to break his skull.
This place is trying to control me.
The surrounding forest was slowly changing. The trees become more gnarled and threatening, their leaves dyed a crimson red and the tone of their bark changing to an ashen gray. The nourishing earth dried out, earth-splitting cracks forming throughout. The golden stream he laid in, turned into a muddy brown.
I won't let it! I will be in charge of my own emotions!
Goldie pushed against the influence with all his will. The fire spreading throughout his body, clearing the dampening fog from his mind. He slowly rose out of the water, making the reality around him ripple as he did so.
Suddenly his leg was caught by the water. It turned into a black tar-like substance and atached itself to his legs. It reached up along his body, pulling him into the depths. The forest around him grew into a densely woven dome that blocked out the sun. While the barrier shrunk down from above, the air within got heavier. He struggled against the sticky liquid slithering up to his head. As soon as it arrived at the top it invaded every crevasse of his body at once. Goldie struggled to breathe.
Is that the best you've got?
I will not yield!
I will not be controlled!
I will be free!
He pressed against the flood with all his might. His entire being focused on this one task. The black sludge was slowly being pushed out of his body. Light erupted out of him, pushing everything outward and away. The darkness retreated as reality cracked.
Goldie opened his eyes. He was lying on a hard cobblestone street. The heat of the blazing midday sun scorching his skin. The weather was dreadful, reflecting his dreadful mood. How could anyone work under these conditions?
The keychain, which usually hung around his neck, was gone.
"FUCK!"
What did it matter if he was free from the manipulation? It changed nothing about the awful situation he found himself in. No doubt his store has been ransacked and his savings stolen.
"Fucking Shit!"
He angrily slammed his fist against the stone wall, breaking his index finger in the process.
"Coristam dammit!"
Goldie cradled his injured hand. How long had he been out? He reached into his pocket and...
"They stole my fucking watch too!"
This was absolutely outrageous! His father gifted it to him when he was younger. It only held sentimental value, so stealing it was nothing more than an act of unnecessary cruelty.
That was my memento! Those bastards will fucking pay for this. The gods as my witness I swear it!
He had no idea how long he'd slept. Judging by the sun it was slightly before midday, which meant his usual customers must have noticed something was going on. Perhaps they even stopped those dammed thieves.
Goldie didn't get his hopes up.
The Sahíl were the pinnacle of humanity. Their god-given gifts made them many times stronger than any Gemeen could ever hope to be. Standing up to one of them would be a death sentence. Even if they were killed, they merely returned to life in a designated temple. No, his best hope was to assess the damage, and report his findings to the city guard. While they were usually busy eliminating monster threats spawning in the surrounding area, the city guard was also tasked with solving crimes within the city and border control.
After making his choice, Goldie commenced walking back to his shop. Viewing the city without the distorting lens of emotional manipulation, it really wasn't a great place, especially in the outer districts. Some buildings were in dire needs of repair, the walls crumbling onto the street. The southern climate's summer heat smoldering the soles of his feet as he walked down the uneven road.
As he got closer to his store he was greeted by multiple people.
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"Good morning Goldie", or "Good day mister Pyrite", was heard plenty of times.
All of these greetings were shut down by a combination of hateful glares, annoyed grunts and nasty curses. He was in no mood to hold a conversation.
As he finally reached his Cornerstore, he saw the door stood slightly open.
Maybe they're still in there. Probably not, who'd bother to lock the door after stealing all the merchandise?
His hunch proved correct as soon as he entered. The shelves and displays were robbed of anything remotely valuable. Cheaper herbs and spices lied recklessly strewn about the floor, with their empty containers thrown onto a pile in the corner of the room.
"Fuck! I hope Tarvit enslaves their souls and uses them as concubines! Screw them all the way to the depths of Ukwatú!", Goldie yelled at nobody in particular.
"My dear mister pyrite", a smooth, but strict voice sounded.
Goldie quickly reared his head towards the sound and had his breath knocked out of him as soon as he saw the voice's owner. It was none other than the minister of commerce himself: Sir Sebastian Cebíle.
"To think someone would utter such foul language in the presence of a noble", the minister gasped, his face laced in false shock.
"M-my sincerest apologies Sir", Goldie stammered. "I had not realized someone of your standing was present."
"Yes... that was quite obvious", Sir Cebíle stated with disdain, eyeing him from head to toe.
Everything about the noble standing in front of Goldie demanded respect. His entire outfit, from his knee-length cloak to his shoes, was crafted from high quality monster parts and magical ingredients. Each article within the set was perfectly in tune with the others and tailor-made to befit the minister's tall, slender body. His copper-colored hair was tied into a ponytail reaching to his shoulders. His youthful visage made him look no older than 25, but his eyes revealed a vast wisdom, disproportionate with such a young age.
Goldie's dirtied clothing was shabby in comparison. His hair was oily, unkempt and dusty from sleeping on the street. His beard greasy from the sweat streaming down his face. His broken finger was swollen and blue. His torn knuckles were covered with dried blood.
He looked more like a ruffian off the street, than a successful businessman.
"I am likely in no position to make demands", Goldie began, "but-"
"No mister Pyrite, you are not", Sir Cebíle interrupted. "You not only left your shop unattended with your vault open for the world to see, but even did so for over twelve hours. There was a large group of distrought people wondering where you had gone."
"Well you see Sir, it was because I-"
"Mister Pyrite I understand full well. You were swindled by a group of thieves and they robbed you. But I hardly see why this should convince me to help you in any way. You let yourself get swindled. You should have seen this coming with your years of experience. But alas, you did nothing to avoid your fate. You played right into their hands, didn't you?"
He was right. Goldie really had played straight into their hands, hadn't he? He should have seen it coming sooner. He never should have...
Something wasn't right. It was that feeling again; that itch in his ears. The minister was trying to manipulate him!
This Fucker.
Goldie raised his voice: "Now listen here you piece of-"
"SILENCE!", the minister shouted.
Goldie's words got caught in his throat. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't squeak out a single sound.
"Now listen closely mister Pyrite! Your company is now under my jurisdiction as you are clearly unfit to lead it. It will still bear the name of "Pyrite Merchant's Association" and will make full use of the contacts you have made during the years. You will not have any power, but I am willing to donate a monthly salary for recompense. It will be enough for you to live a comfortable life, if not one of extreme luxury. Perhaps it would do you some good. A hobby might help you with your psychological problems."
Goldie grit his teeth as he replied: "Fuck your deal. I won't just give you my company! And I don't have any psychological problems!"
"Of course not. How careless of me", he answered sarcastically. "But please tell me mister Pyrite: How are you enjoying your life in Flousshire? It's a beautiful place is it not?"
"I'm not a part of your machinations you slimy-"
"Shush now, there's no need to be so rude", the minister cut him off. "I must admit you're much more resilient than I expected. But even you must realize that you have a problem. Everybody loves living and working in Flousshire. It is all too simple to recognise you as the odd one out. All you need to do now is admit to your mental issues!
Sir Cebíle was right. Goldie was no longer mentally sound. Whatever happened while he was unconscious broke him.
"You're right, I have a problem and am unfit to lead the company", Goldie stated.
"Very good; The first step to getting rid of a problem is admitting to it. Now if you would please sign this document", Sebastian demanded as he handed Goldie the required form.
"What about the monthly payment?", Goldie insisted.
"You do not have to worry about that. I have the required form right here", the minister assured. "If you want the money, then please sign the second document as well. The payment will be delivered to your residence at the start of each month."
"I don't need your charity!", Goldie responded.
"Well then that concludes our dealings. Everything said since the start of negotiations has been recorded on an audio cube for later reviewal and transcription. I will escort you from the building as we have lots of work to do. You are free to leave now."
So that's what Goldie did.
After a few minutes of aimlessly walking around town, he grasped what had just transpired.
"Itoyas ayal! I'm a bloody idiot. How the hells did I just let that happen!?"
Why can everybody control my emotions? No... this time it truly was more akin to mind control. Damm them all!
He had one more place he could go. His warehouse would have likely not been robbed and even if it was, they could never have taken everything from within it. Therefore it was possible for him to scavenge as many valuables as possible and sell them for a bit of cash. Afterwards he could make his way to the neighbouring city of Siellous and start anew. Not all hope was lost! He would find a sliver of hope and stick to it with all his might!
His hope once again came crashing down as he arrived. The warehouse was bustling with activity, the minister's cronies already getting their slimy little fingers all over it.
I'm doomed.
Goldie surveyed the location, hoping to find a stealthy way in. He was very inexperienced when it came to robbing places, so his plan never came to fruition. As he was about to give up he noticed something: There was a hooded man with a shadowy cloak climbing out of a window without any guards noticing. The man didn't even spare him a look as re rushed past. Goldie, however, was able to confirm his suspicions.
That man is carrying my tarkinium dagger! He must be working with Garen!
As he had no other options, he chose to follow the shrouded man. As soon as they were a ways away from the warehouse, the shrouded man became far more relaxed and walked normally along the narrow streets of the outer districts. Another twenty minutes later they arrived at a secluded building that seemed to have once served as an inn. The man knocked on the door, Goldie peeking around a corner down the street.
"So Jeffery, how'd it look?", he heard Garen's familiar voice ask.
"The minister's goonies are already swarming the place. There was nothing I could do. I barely made it out undetected", the cowled man explained.
"Well that's too bad. What will you do now? The mission's over with, we made quite a killing even without ransacking the warehouse", Garen boasted.
"About that... I deserve a larger share", Jeffery blankly stated.
"Pah! I'm sorry Jeffery, but a deal's a deal. You signed the contract so you get the agreed amount. If you wanted a slice of the pie you should have said so sooner", Garen snickered.
"This mission was far more dangerous than what you told me! Working against the minister of commerce is a terrible idea!", Jeffery spat.
"Are you gonna make trouble little man? Because it won't end well for you."
"We'll see about that", he muttered while placing his hand on the dagger at his side.
He unsheathed the blade faster than Goldie's eyes could follow, but Garen raised his arm in time to block the coming swing. It flicked against the warrior's plated armor, denting it slightly, but doing no significant damage.
"I DID ALL THE WORK YOU POMPOUS FUCK!", Jeffery yelled as he stabbed at the man's neck.
The silvery armor started glowing a dim red and the dagger was deflected without even scratching the surface.
"HA! You'll need way more strength to harm me", Garen boasted as he slammed his left fist into the smaller man's stomach. The thief flew backwards and crashed against the opposite wall. He unsteadily got to his feet as he coughed up blood. The shadows of the alley molded into him, obscuring his form. A few moments passed before he shot out of the darkness. His arm blurred as he once again swung his blade at the glowing man. Garen's right hand burst towards the shadowy shape. The runes inscribed in his gauntlet shined a bright orange as the force of the blow exploded forwards. The shadows protecting Jeffery's body dissipated and his fractured. His limp body sailed through the air and crashed to the ground in the distance.
Goldie was sure that Jeffery had died, but he got up and infused his cloak with darkness. Then he vanished from sight.
"He's still alive?", a woman commented.
"Just leave him be, he's more trouble to hunt down than he's worth. He won't be back anyway, it's in the weasel's nature to avoid danger", Garen remarked.
Garen's strike was far more devestating than the warrior had believed. Jeffery barely managed to walk into a quiet alley before collapsing on the ground. His healing rate was quite high, especially in dark places. He would survive, but he needed to stay still to not cause any extra damage. However, Goldie saw where the thief reappeared.
He's almost dead... What should I do? This man is responsible for what happened to me. I'll get my revenge no matter how petty it is! My life is ruined and this piece of shit is the cause! He should just fucking die!
Goldie picked up a loose brick from the ground and steadily stepped towards the man. His arm was shaking as he raised his hand. Jeffery's eyes widened in recognition.
"It's you!"
"You ruined my fucking life you snake!", Goldie accused. "You deserve nothing but death!"
Yes! Kill him, kill him, kill him!
Goldie smashed the brick into Jeffery's face. The man's nose crumpled under the weight and his forehead started bleeding. Over and over the brick was brought down upon him, but the brick broke before Jeffery was dead. The burglar chocked on his blood while attempting to laugh.
Goldie growled: "It won't stay funny for long, asshole"
He took the tarkinium dagger lying in next to the barely breathing man, and jabbed it straight through his eye socket into his brain. Finally, the slippery bastard's life force ebbed away.
Goldie sensed something, a strange flow of energy leaving the body. It had the distinct stench of 'thief' attached to it.
NO!
"You won't get away that easily you piece of crap!"
Goldie pulled against the instangible shape with pure force of will. The feeling was akin to his escape from the city's emotional manipulation, only this time instead of pushing the force away he tugged at it with all his might. Reality rippled once again as a grey, shadowy essence flowed out of seemingly nowhere. It shone darkness everywhere around it. It tried to flee, but now that it was tangible its resistance wavered.
Goldie reached out with his hand and physically touched the soul. As he did so it flowed into his body, disappearing from sight as though it had never existed.
[Complex-Unique skill Aquired: Soul Capture (U)]
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