“You will see the value of my art, and you will never endeavor to insult it again.”

Noz grumbled, still hung on those words from the night before. Slung over his shoulder was his usual satchel, except almost thrice as heavy as before; Reyn had stuffed in as many things as she could within the bag, namely pieces of some glass apparatus and a mortar and pestle, so it felt heavy as a boulder upon his green back. Worst of all? She wouldn’t entertain any of his objections.

It was fortunate, then, that Yun’s streak bled right into Liugo’s towering scarsteel-gates. From their spot in an ever-growing line, Noz just barely made out the entrance: The frayed metal, flanked by massive stone walls, loomed over the pair despite their distance. He saw a patrol of soldiers clambering across the ridges, their spears poised for the sky like splintered dogwood, faces hidden beneath masks of steel as they surveyed the gates from the parapets. With the sunlight beaming from behind its wrought edges and cracked brick, Noz got the impression of ancient consecrated ground – ground that he, perhaps, would be wise not to cross.

Though he tried not to show it, the goblin began to feel slightly antsy, fidgeting as they grew ever closer. The last time he’d drawn near the city, he’d been with a horde, and they’d set up far away from the great walls. He’d never step foot inside.

Before long, the two of them reached the forefront of the line (After an especially lengthy merchant and his suspiciously pungent carriage). He took a step forward–

“Halt.”

–And was stopped by the crossing of a pair of spears. Noz stumbled back, giving their owners a rather unpleasant look. Most of their features were hidden behind a visor, yet he was able to recognize a beastman and a human – thanks to that awfully perfusing smell of sweat and unwashed animal hair. That furry tail swaying behind the left guard more than helped, too.

The guard on the right returned his spear to his side, addressing Reyn. “State your name and business.”

Reyn’s brow furrowed slightly. “You can’t possibly think this farce necessary, Andreas.”

“Rules remain rules,” ‘Andreas’ said. His voice was gruff, low, and took on a metallic quality from beneath the helm. “Even you remain bound by the law.”

“Fool!” The other guard said. Their voice was higher, and had a slight snarl to it. “Lord Birgham’s guests receive expedited treatment. Do not bar Ms. Reyn from her affairs, lest you wish to maintain the outhouses for the coming weeks!”

Andreas seemed to ponder this for a moment. But soon he shifted, making way for Reyn, and the second guard followed suit, evidently satisfied. “You may pass.”

Reyn snorted. She took a step to pass through the gates, relaxed and unhurried. Noz made an attempt to follow, but found himself stopped. The second guard peered down at him, their tail swaying in alarm. “You. No.” They said in… was that Jun’go? Noz cringed. He suddenly had a newfound appreciation in Reyn’s skill in the language.

“Let him through. He’s with me.” Reyn said. Yet the guards refused to budge.

Noz could tell Andreas looked at him with scrutiny, even from behind the visor. A petal of indignance bloomed within him. “Have your senses been clouded by this creature, Madam Reyn?” said Andreas. “This is a goblin.”

What did he just call me?

“My eyes have not been clouded, Andreas. That is–”

“My name is Noz,” The goblin said, staring up at the guard between fulgurous eyes. Creature? Creature? This mere human had the gall to call him that, right then and there? In front of his face? “I’m Reyn’s patient and fellow. I am a goblin, and I can understand you perfectly well.”

From the helmet, Andreas’s surprise was apparent. “You know the Emperor’s Word?”

“Most certainly better than you do.” Noz jeered.

“Then you best watch your tongue,” Andreas scoffed. “Liugo’s gates open to all, but do not presume you are welcome.”

“Andreas!” The second guard said sternly. Andreas, with hesitation, laid off, but not without a final glance at Noz. “I apologize for the discourtesy of my fellow. He has not the sense to dull his words.”

“Evidently.” Muttered Noz.

“You may go. Next!” They roared, and with the final word, Noz passed through the scarlet gates.

Noz was wrong about Liugo – the city within the walls was far from a sanctum. Garbs and tunics hung overhead from streaming clotheslines, connected between beams that almost touched the sky. Noise boomed from every corner: The streets, the open window shutters, the alleys. He was hit with a sudden blast of warm air from the left, his eyes widened in shock. That was… garlic! And cumin! And a plethora of other spices connected in aromatic marriage, daintily drifting throughout the air. Tantalizing couldn’t even begin to describe it.

But that was far from the most striking part. It was the people, the sheer amount of people – they bustled through the streets, bartered with the hawker stalls, crowded around street performers, leaned against vine-splayed walls between buildings. And they weren’t just humans. An orc from the Mog’ker, atop a barrel as large as his chest, boomed to an audience of children and adults alike about stories from his travels between his twisting tusks; another beastman, dressed in fine silks and embroidery as golden as his fur, hunched over a selection of different meats in baskets; someone that looked vaguely elfish frying a meal in a pan wider than she was tall.

So many things to steal.

No, that wasn’t what he was here for. Not now. This first visit could be… a reconnaissance. Yes, a reconnaissance! He’d come back later, much later, and make out with more than he could carry – now that was an idea Noz fancied.

His admiration of the view was interrupted by Reyn. “‘Fellow?’” She mused, a curious look on her aged face. “I don’t believe you’ve earned the right to call me that, dear.”

“How else would I refer to myself? As your subordinate?”

“Something along those lines,” Reyn took a great whiff of the wafting aromas in the air, lingering on the exhale. “Because then you wouldn’t have gotten in any more trouble. Certainly wouldn’t have butted heads with Andreas.”

“Right,” Noz said. “As if I’d do that. That guy can go screw himself.”

Reyn sighed. “Andreas isn’t a bad person. Just a bit anal.”

“‘A bit.’” He was more than just ‘a bit,’ to Noz. But that didn’t quite matter now. “So? Where now?”

Reyn said nothing, only surveying the area, then making off for one of the less crowded streets. Noz trailed behind her, making sure not to get lost in the crowd.

As the two moved away from the busy streets, interrupted by an innumerable amount of merchants, they found their way towards one of the more dilapidated veins with a far lesser flow of people. The buildings here looked far older. In the main streets, the houses almost glowed with strength, poised with thick columns of wood and reinforced by hearty slabs of stone, yet still curved and dipped with ornate arches and dancing iron beams. Here, the buildings were far more square. More stone. To Noz’s surprise, they had a slight resemblance to Jun’anil architecture – if not for the amount of meandering humans and the unsightly amount of plant growth, it would’ve given him some reprieve.

They stopped at a building far down the road. Thin vines ruptured through the stone in sleek splinters. A wooden sign hung from overhead, hinges loose, paint chipped – a myriad of dull colors broke and bled into one another like some malformed kaleidoscope. The two were far from the main streets now, the noise reduced to a dull pulsing from way over. He wasn’t sure whether it was the stillness in the air, the age of the building, or the faintly ferrous smell coming from inside that set him on edge. Even after Reyn jammed a crude key into a keyhole and elbowed the door open, Noz remained outside.

Goblins found no use for apothecaries. After all, what was the point of an alchemist when someone could snag a tincture or two from a physician’s pouch? The most they had were the Cabinets – roughened, harsh buildings filled to the brim of all manner of half-empty bottles of drugs and mixtures. But even then, the Cabinets brimmed with life. There was none here. Just rows upon rows of empty shelves, a dusty countertop, and another door, thinning webs on the handle. Human apothecaries were as trashy as he thought. But then, why did Reyn too look disappointed?

“Damn that Fnil,” She said. “Should’ve known he’d short me somehow. But completely lying about the state of the place is beyond low…” A dust cloud of smoke billowed up as Reyn set her case on the countertop. She circled the room, and as she inspected, the frown on her face only sunk further. She opened the other door and stumbled in, something screeched, and a shadowed figure – small as a dog or a cat – raced out the building smelling of filth and chemicals. It almost ran over Noz, much to his shock. “What are you doing? Get in here.”

The goblin obliged, still reeling from almost getting trampled. He set his bag down near Reyn’s.

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An absurd amount of wooden desks lined every wall of the room, littered with broken glass and rusting metal pieces. More shelves hung overhead. A great pair of cabinets sat in the far back, doors swung open, with carvings that were ruined by time and neglect. “You would do work here?” Noz jabbed. “Not even the spiders bothered to stay.”

“We will.” She paced around. Her look of disappointment from the other room yet plastered across her face.

“You’re joking,” said Noz. “Our Cabinets were messy, though not like this. Let’s start makin’ some potions regardless, right?”

“You misunderstand.” Reyn spotted something from the corner of the room and dusted it off. It was a broom almost twice the goblin’s size. She tossed it to his feet. “Our first line of business is cleaning.”

“‘Value of my art,’” Noz snorted. “Is this all there is? Dusty rooms? Empty shelves? A broom?”

“Have you ever heard of ‘contamination?’” Reyn said coldly. When Noz failed to respond, she continued: “Say you’ve got a draught of extracted Dawndew. Wonderful blood-knitting agents, they are. But if a mere speck of something like, say, Wornwort spores or crushed mint gets in, you end up with a terrible poison.” She looked at Noz sternly. “Would you like me to demonstrate?”

It was never one of Noz’s wishes to die of poison, so he reluctantly took the broom, struggling to handle it with his tiny size. He managed to find a way to use it by hoisting it in the nook of his armpit, wielding it almost like a spear – and he wasn’t good at using spears. Because of this, Reyn sent him out into the other room, tasking him with sweeping the dust and dirt outside while she rearranged the former room, which she designated as the ‘laboratory.’ whatever that was.

It went surprisingly well. Though he used the mop with no more grace than a flopping salmon, he’d managed to get a few corners of the room cleaned, flippantly sweeping clouds of dust out the open door (he’d managed to find a stool and, with his bag atop, it held the door ajar).

Turning back to the door as he swept another cloud of dirt outside, he felt a sudden crawling on his back – like hundreds of grasping centipede legs skittering up to his nape. He shivered. It’d seem the building’s air was finally getting to him; except, these sensations usually happened in passing. This one did not. Rather, it dug into him further still, like the legs grew claws and burrowed into his grainy skin. He wanted to scratch it off. He wanted to rip it off. To tear it off. Tear it off. Tear it off, flesh be damned!

“You feel it too, then?” Said a voice from behind him. It was low, husky, and granular, like a voice given to an infestation of rotting worms. Jolted, Noz barely realized his fingertips had become bloodied, skin beneath his nails, as a wrought pain emanated from his left shoulder. The air became lurid with the smell of trees and the forest, of carcasses and animal musk, of a dark moon hanging over a far dawn. Noz tried to move but was rooted in place. Gripped. “Is it not a wondrous feeling? Having Vrinalstik clinging to your back?”

Something knit over his shoes and creeped up his shins: Vines, wrapping around his legs, bringing him down to his knees. The most resistance he gave came out in the form of some feeble, choked outcry. The centipede legs dug further. He could feel them press up against the back of his stomach, poking against his lungs, sliding between the cracks in his ribcage. And yet they went further. Closer to his heart. Itching, craving, to draw blood from a vein.

“Enough, Kaylth.” Reyn’s voice rang from the lab, and as she meandered out, she looked incredibly… annoyed. “Did Fnil not tell you of my coming arrival?”

“He told me of yours,” The voice hacked out. It sounded harsher, like it formed from a storm of beating wings. “He did not tell me of a second sack of flesh crossing onto my land!”

“That’s… quite fair actually.” said Reyn. “My apologies. That which you’ve a hold of in your clutches is Noz, my apprentice. It would be a great service if–”

“Noz? Noz?!” The voice bellowed. “That name reeks of thieves’ blood! You bring a goblin to encroach here?”

“Definitely not.” Reyn looked to remain nonchalant, though Noz saw hints of worry weave into the corners of her eye. “Noz is human. A very short human, with a very unusual name, but human nonetheless.”

“Noz!” It made a great gusting sound. It was vaguely akin to an inhale. “Smelling of dust and iron, and… and… runework.”

“Ah, about that, Noz and I had been pursued by a horde on our way to Liugo,” Reyn said hastily. “You’ll find traces of the same scent on me. Don’t you?”

Something akin to a grumble emanated from behind the goblin. He felt the pinching claws retract, only slightly, from inside his body. “Certainly,” The voice said. “Certainly, I smell it upon you too. Certainly. Yes. Indeed…”

Reyn rubbed her temple, sighing, looking exasperated. “I believe Fnil told you my plans for this place. Do you plan to do this for every person to cross into the building?”

“None shall cross into this building!”

“On my fucking life…” Reyn muttered, just barely out of hearing. “Fnil told you this land was to be occupied. Minimally, by me.”

“Yes.”

“And in return, I would refine you.”

“Yes.”

“And to do that, I’d be converting this place to an apothecary. Which is a place of commerce. Which means people will be crossing in and out daily; unfamiliar, new people.”

“NO!” A screech like a thousand decaying crows blasted from behind, reverberating off the walls. “I will not allow this! None shall cross! NONE!”

Noz felt its grip release from him, but a whirling gale supplanted its place. The shelves rattled, a meaning sound, as the debris in the room spiraled in the air as they were caught by the wind. He felt great mass whoosh out of the front door, crashing against a beam as it flung wide open. But the building boiled down to another quiet again before long All that remained was dust, dirt, and a lingering sense of danger in the atmosphere.

…

“An elemental?!” Noz exclaimed. The two of them, Reyn and Noz, were in the lab, a setting sun’s rays peeking through cracked windows. While the place remained largely dirtied, it still was a large improvement from before. A lot less grimy. “The hell?! What’s an elemental doing here?”

“Wasn’t just any elemental,” Reyn grumbled. She had Noz seated in a chair as she carefully aliquoted some mixture into several glasses from a flask. Her back was turned, but the goblin could still see the corners of eyes flitting across an open book, worn hands turning a myriad of pages with alarming haste. “Verdant Guardians are notoriously territorial. And Kaylth – among them, they’re notoriously stubborn. Drink this.” She handed him one of the glasses, as small as his pinky. It was filled with some viscous liquid. It tasted like mud and dirt, with some fruit pulp mixed in. “Always wondered how Fnil convinced them to lend me some of their body. Looks like he lied; either that, or he withheld many a great detail.”

“Again with that name. Do you expect me to know who you’re talking about? ‘Fnil.’” Noz’s brow knit together. “From the way you’ve been talking about him, he sounds like a jackass.”

She paused momentarily from her work, only to make back to it with haste. “Old colleague of mine. Think nothing of it.” She dipped into the other room, returning with a downsized bellows. With a skin tube, she connected another partly-filled bottle to the air hole, and pointed it towards Noz. He was sprayed with something that smelled vaguely of rotting wood and stone long before he could protest.

“Wh– Are you still trying to kill me, you hag?!” Noz coughed out.

“Unless they manifest in a humanoid form, elementals can’t see.” Reyn said promptly, ignoring Noz. “They can only smell and feel, taste and hear. That spray should keep you smelling like the land. Like a dormant piece of their body.”

“What for?”

“I told you – I wouldn’t let you die now, right?” she said. “When Kaylth comes back, and they will, you must remain deathly still. Hide in the cupboards and make not a single sound. I’ll tell them that, after nearly killing you, you ran back to mommy soiling your tunic. This is a temporary measure until I get this ordeal sorted out.”

Noz shook his head. The words made sense, and yet, a part of him was still taken by confusion. “If I was that much of a bother, why didn’t they just kill me there and then?”

Reyn stopped again. Her index finger lightly rapped against the tabletop as she descended into thought – combined with the way her neck slightly craned and bobbed, it was a peculiar sight for certain. “Let’s say you have an immaculate box of old jewels–”

“I don’t particularly like jewels.”

“You do, for the sake of argument. Now…” She turned to face him, barely leaning forwards in her chair. “Say a roach finds their way into the box. Your first instinct would be to kill it, yes?”

No. “Obviously.”

“But then you’d have roach blood staining your precious jewels. And cleaning them would be a pain, of course.”

“We’ve got a rune for that, actually–”

“In any case,” Reyn overtook Noz, much to his chagrin. “For elementals, staining pieces of their body with things like bloodshed is like if you poured a vat of roach’s blood atop those jewels. They interact with the world through magic, but their magic directly consumes their life energy – energy that could be used to grow, to expand. Using it to kill, much less clean, is a great hassle.” said Reyn. She went silent for a moment, letting Noz digest her words. “The sentiment rings more true for Verdant Guardians. For encumbered land like this, most elementals would’ve long abandoned it, using the energy to grow elsewhere. But Kaylth is petty. They won’t give that easily.”

Noz recalled that feeling of spines pressing against his heart and felt himself grow uncomfortable where he sat. His chest tightened, familiar to that feeling from nights before, but dulled. “Will it kill me?”

“Had I not covered you, they would’ve. Without a shred of hesitation.” Reyn said. “I imagine that, right now, they’re storming back to Fnil to throw a tirade.” She sighed. “Not like that would change anything. Even I know that.”

The goblin gulped down a wad of spittle lodged in his throat, not knowing for how long it’d been stuck there. Reyn had already gone back to her work, sorting out bottles, cleaning out flasks, arranging her desk. She looked as decrepit as ever.

A goblin’s eye had a penchant for weakness, and it was this that drove Noz to her to begin with. And yet; she’d faced down a storming elemental – in the most literal sense – and spoke with it as if the two were equals. No, not even equals – as if they were acquaintances.

His mind went to the goblin shamans. He always held a certain disdain for the practice, since it was far less reliable on runework, dependent on the whims of spirits. When the goblin shamans worked their mystics, they always kept a particular kind of reverence, submitting themselves as conduits for nature to course its magic through.

But goblin shamans only worked with lesser spirits. True elementals were far too chaotic, far too capricious. And a Verdant Guardian? He’d no idea prior what it was, but judging from what Reyn said, they were many steps above.

His eyes fell back onto Reyn. Her spindly, wrinkled hands continued to work. The lab remained quiet, only the clinking and shuffling of glass and wood still lingering. He may have had daft hands, but his eye was keen. And his eye only reaffirmed what his instincts told him: Nothing about her was amiss from any other old lady. No matter what perspective he looked from, Reyn was… knocking on death’s door, foot first into a coffin.

Just an old lady. She was just an old lady.

But how many old ladies were on a name-basis with Verdant Guardians? To converse with one the way she did – without harm, no less – kept him shocked to no end. And as he watched her continue to work, fiddling with apparatus, Noz couldn’t help but wish he’d let her pass by Yun’s streak, unbothered, those few nights ago.