> Lowestoft: Where thieves are heroes and saints are frauds.
>
> - Lowestoft’s unofficial slogan. Its citizens speak it with pride; elsewhere it is said with derision.
We ended up sleeping until almost noon the next day, a much-needed reprieve. Few things are taxing as death followed by wandering an alien environment and having to fight while outnumbered. I couldn’t say the experience was an entirely miserable one, though. Living in a strange new world excited me, to a degree. But if I was given the opportunity to repeat the previous day, I would have to decline.
I could tell that we had been asleep for quite some time. My internal sense of time told me it was almost noon. Lloyd was still asleep. Unfortunately, I’d have to wake him up. I wanted to avoid having to pay for another night. I lightly gripped his shoulder, squeezing it just a bit. Lloyd stirred, muttering something incomprehensible. With that taken care of, I sat up and started getting dressed.
As I was donning my armor, I noticed something different about the room, something that wasn’t there last night. On the table in the corner of the room was an envelope sealed with crimson wax. The last vestiges of sleep were immediately purged from my system. I was fully awake and alert.
Someone had snuck in last night and left this here.
I waited for Lloyd to finish getting dressed before informing him of the situation. We set to investigating the room. Lloyd inspected the lock on the door as that was his specialty, not mine.
“Nothing,” Lloyd stood with a sigh. “There weren’t any fresh markings on the keyhole, so I don’t think it was picked. I couldn’t say if they bribed the innkeeper for a key, though,” he concluded.
That meant the person who did this had either the skill to fool Lloyd, or enough influence to obtain the key from the innkeeper while also hiding their involvement. The former couldn’t be confirmed definitively, as there was a possibility that the intruder was skilled enough to avoid leaving any traces. As for the latter, there was no guarantee that intimidation or threats would result in accurate information, if they even said anything at all. The only clue we had left was the envelope I had in my hands.
I inspected the seal. The wax was stamped with a seal which depicted a coin engraved with a crown and dagger. “Interesting,” I commented. I scraped off the wax and dumped the contents of the envelope on the table.
“Von!” Lloyd barked at me, grimacing. The envelope could have been boobytrapped. Toxic gas, colorless poison, deadly insects, any number of things, really. Lloyd was upset that I had, seemingly, thrown caution to the wind and acted absentmindedly.
The thing was, I had already considered that it might have been trapped and concluded that there had been no reason for it to be. Clearly, the person had access to our room while we slept, unarmed and unarmored. They had ample opportunity to incapacitate or kill us, yet instead chose to leave a message.
Then a thought occurred to me. Why had they gone to such lengths to leave the letter on the table? They could have just slid it under the door or left it at the front desk. Is it a threat? Something like, ‘We can kill you any time we want, so you better follow our instructions.’?
Eh, no use thinking too hard right now. Better read this first.
“Dear Von and Lloyd,
I hope your rest found you well, as you are about to be very busy. I’m not fond of prose, so I’ll be brief. I wish to have a talk, face to face…”
What followed was a set of instructions. At an establishment named the Molten Apples Tavern, we were to have a coded exchange with the tavern master. We would then be led to a hidden passage, an entrance to the sender’s hideout.
“Lastly, I wanted to let you know that I am not fond of being made to wait. Try to arrive here before noon.
~ The Lord of Thieves”
I wanted to avoid rushing into an unknown situation, but I had the distinct feeling that, despite the lack of threats, implied or otherwise, it would not be wise to ignore those last two sentences.
Lloyd reluctantly agreed, his reason being that we hadn’t been kidnapped or killed in our sleep. There’d be no reason for this to be a trap.
I flung the door to our room open, scrambling down the stairs, Lloyd following behind. My brain was going into overdrive. How are we going to find this place? What’s the fastest way to learn where something is? Ask someone. Even better, we can ask someone to guide us there. Why? Money.
I checked my pouch. Thankfully, there was more than enough left over after paying for a night at the inn.
I barreled through the front door of the inn. My eyes, accustomed to the dimly lit interior of the inn, were immediately blinded by the blazing sun overhead. I narrowly avoided crashing into a Ratatoskr, just barely skidding to a stop.
“Need someone to lead us to a place called the Molten Apple Tavern! Paying a silver if you get us there, ten silver if you get us there before noon!” I announced, projecting my voice loud enough to be heard above the noise of the busy street. Fifteen silver was what we paid for a night at the inn.
A few people approached, but I brushed off the ones who hesitated when I asked how to get there. Those people probably didn’t remember the route very well or were just bluffing.
Thankfully, the fourth person to approach was a skittish, young, judging by her short stature, Ratatoskr with light grey-brown fur. She said she knew the owner of the shop next to the tavern and was familiar with a shortcut she often took.
It was a mad scramble from start to finish. When we told our guide that she wouldn’t get paid unless we got there before noon, she ran so fast that all I could make out was a black blur.
“Huh!?” Lloyd and I gaped. Her relatively short stature belied her incredible speed. How can she run so fast with those short legs?!
We ran, desperate not to lose sight of her. A blur followed by two figures weaved through crowds, sprinted down alleys, and even bounded across rooftops. If we had picked anyone else to be our guide, we might not have made it in time. It was like she could see the future, avoiding obstacles before she could even see them.
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The Ratatoskr had kept her word. We even arrived with a bit of time to spare, according to the timepiece I passed by on the way over here.
“Here’s your pay, thanks for the help, kid,” I said, handing over ten silver and an additional two. She quickly counted them, confirming the amount before nodding. “Thank you kindly,” she turned to leave.
Lloyd held up a hand, signaling he had more to say. “Ah, miss, we didn’t catch your name.”
She narrowed her eyes, clutching her bag of coin. Her caution was completely reasonable; we hadn’t even given our own names, let alone had a proper conversation.
“Von’s the name,” I said, jerking a thumb to my chest, “and that’s Lloyd. We’re new around here, and when we were told to show up here by noon, we thought we’d never make it. I just wanted to know where I could find you later, I wanted to thank you properly,” I told her.
I saw this as an opportunity to start making contacts, allies. Intimately familiar with the city and swift enough to get anywhere in a matter of minutes. Those two qualities alone qualified her for a lot of important jobs, like delivering time-sensitive messages or packages. At the very least, I didn’t want her to view me as a suspicious person to be avoided.
She didn’t say a word as she stared daggers at us, looking for any signs that we were lying or deceiving her.
“Nhefi,” she told us. “If you need to find me… I work over at the Felbrigg Bakery in the purple-red district.” She saw our reactions and anticipated our next question, “You just came from the yellow district, the outer-yellow district, to be more accurate.”
I still don’t get it; how does that help? I looked over at Lloyd. There was a glint of understanding in his eyes.
Lloyd flashed her a smile, “Thanks, miss Nhefi. If we’re ever in that part of town, we’ll be sure to pay you a visit.”
“Oh,” I chimed in, “does your bakery make sweets?” I asked.
She nodded her head. “We start baking them in the morning so they’re ready by lunch time, nice and warm,” she boasted.
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“Sounds good, Nhefi. Well, we need to get going, thanks again,” said Lloyd.
Nhefi turned to leave. “Goodbye, Mr. Lloyd, Mr. Von,” she waved, disappearing into the crowd.
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The tavern itself didn’t look like anything special. It was practically empty, it being the middle of the day. The only customer was passed out, face down on a table at the far side of the room. The tavernkeeper was sitting behind the bar, reading something. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the time to ask him about it.
I followed the instructions on the letter, repeating the written phrase and response. We were then led to a storage room. The barkeep moved aside a crate and stuck a thin piece of metal between two floorboards. There was a faint click, and a section of the floor next to him popped up. He grabbed the protruding edge and swung it open, revealing a ladder that descended into darkness. Wordless, he handed us a lantern and motioned towards the hole.
As we descended, we heard the hatch above us click shut and the scraping sound of the barrel being moved back into place.
We followed a twisting, winding tunnel for what felt like an eternity, though I recognized that it probably hadn’t been nearly that long. I was starting to get anxious.
We rounded a corner and we found ourselves in a spacious, square room, with brick walls and a wood floor and ceiling. It was well lit, standing lamps dotting the room.
I had to do a double take. The lights never flickered; they didn’t use flame as a source of light. Instead, there was a glowing stone placed where a candle would usually go. I’d never seen anything like it. The light the stone emitted was almost exactly the same as that of a candleflame.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t waste time gawking at every little mystery. We had a meeting to attend.
Judging from the furniture and layout, this was most likely a common room of sorts. Low tables surrounded by padded couches and chairs were scattered about the room. Side tables had books and papers tucked into cubbies.
Just like the passage we emerged from; similar archways dotted the perimeter of the room. None of the tunnels were lit, so I was only able to see what the lights within the room revealed.
In the far corner of the room, facing away from us sat a man with short, ratty, chestnut colored hair. He was reading a book, his feet resting atop the table in front of them. In the chair closest to him sat another figure. He had short grey hair and a beard, a scar ran across his left cheek, from ear to mouth. Both were wearing form-fitting clothing and dark leather armor over that. The grey-haired man wore a pair of dark grey pants and a dark blue shirt. The other wore dark brown pants and a white shirt.
I locked eyes with the grey-haired man. He then had a brief exchange with the man next to him. He had likely informed him of our arrival. The grey-haired man stood up and motioned us over.
We were instructed to sit on the couch opposite the man with chestnut hair. Lloyd and I settled down for what would be a long conversation.
As we took our seats, the man shut his book, setting it on the side table next to him before turning his eyes towards us.
He seemed young at first glance, clearly an adult but lacking any of the aging that began in one’s late twenties or so. His freckles framed a pair of forest green eyes. Something in his eyes, and the way he moved, I got the sense that he was far, far older than he looked.
He sat up, smiling. It wasn’t the smile of a crazed psychopath, nor was it a forced smile that barely hid a restrained anger. It was a genuine, appreciative smile.
But it was still off-putting.
“Welcome, Von, Lloyd,” the man spoke. “I am Cadius, the Demigod of Thieves, lord of Lowestoft, head of the Vagabond Spirits. I am glad we finally have the chance to talk. Ah, you can just call me Cadius, or Cad. I’m not all that attached to the tiles and honorifics.”
Demigod?! I thought I remembered hearing about them at some point. They were supposed to be beings that ruled over certain aspects, like wind or lightning, something like that. That was the extent of my knowledge.
I didn’t see anything that I would consider divine, but then again, I didn’t know what a demigod should look like.
“Greetings, Cadius.” Lloyd smiled. “I apologize for our tardiness; we hadn’t realized we had been summoned until we awoke late into the day,” Lloyd spoke formally. I’ll just let him handle this…
Cadius waved a hand dismissively, “Oh it’s fine, I was able to get in some extra reading time, much to Wolfram’s displeasure,” he grinned, looking over at the grey-haired man.
“Hmph,” Wolfram grumbled, crossing his arms. “Be grateful that the lord is such a pushov-I mean, merciful, man,” he said to us with a smirk.
Cadius kicked the leg of Wolfram’s chair, chuckling. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you clearly. Can you repeat that?”
Wolfram squared his back, an attempt at mock-seriousness. “I would never dare to, my liege. It must be your imagination,” he said dismissively.
“Deceiving me?” Cadius questioned. He held a hand to his mouth and gasped, feigning offense. “Now that’s rich. And stop calling me liege, you know that just annoys me,” said Cadius.
“My apologies, liege,” replied Wolfram.
Lloyd and I just sat there in silence, not sure what to make of this exchange. Had they just forgotten we were even here? Was that some sort of comedy routine? Cadius seemed to notice us staring like confused children and spoke up.
“Ah, sorry for that unseemly display. I’ll be sure to punish my subordinate later. Perhaps having him organize my office will suffice.”
Wolfram, despite the jovial atmosphere, suddenly paled. “Please, sir!” he begged. “The last time you had someone clean it, they worked day and night for a week straight!” cried Wolfram. It couldn’t be that bad… could it? I started to feel pity for the man.
“If you don’t wish to spend your time sorting documents and scrubbing floors, I suggest you be on your best behavior,” said Cadius wearing a mischievous smirk.
Wolfram bowed, “Yes, sir.”
Cadius turned to us, spirits high. “I am sure you have many questions. I promise to answer what I can with as little bullshit and as few riddles as possible. Of course, there will be things I can’t yet reveal to you, but I ask that you please be patient.”
Lloyd spoke first. “Sir Cadius,” Lloyd began. Cadius raised an eyebrow at the use of ‘sir.’ “Ah, I mean, Cadius,” Lloyd hurriedly corrected himself, “Where exactly are we? To be clear, I am referring to this… realm? We died yet live again.”
“Ah, simply put, this is the place between the physical realm, the one you came from, and the afterlife, more formally known as the Agnozoi. This is the realm of the demigods, the Rizu-Skoni, or Rizu for short,” Cadius explained. “As for why you’re here and not in the afterlife… I’ll explain that later.”
Well, that’s one way to avoid answering a difficult question.
“Hey, Cad, how did you know our names?” I asked.
That’s right. Cadius shouldn’t have known our names, seeing as we hadn’t told them to anyone before receiving the letter.
Cadius nodded solemnly. “Yes, I have been observing you since before you perished. In fact, I have been periodically studying you for the past several years. I needed to determine if you were the ones I’ve been searching for.” Lloyd and I shifted uncomfortably in our seats. “Ah,” Cadius continued, “no need to be unsettled, I just needed to observe you long enough to determine your abilities and character. They say the true test of character is what you do when no one is watching. And, from what I’ve seen, you two are of exceptional character.”
He seemed a bit embarrassed as he continued, “Actually, I feel completely at ease with placing my trust in you. I understand that this is all so sudden, but I hope in time you can trust me, trust us.”
It took time for me to process what all he just said. This man was a demigod, or so he said, had been observing us from time to time over the course of several years, and had decided that he could place his complete trust in us?
If anyone else had been saying this, I wouldn’t believe a single word of it. I would have called them an idiot, expecting us to trust a total stranger who claimed to have been spying on us for years. He had done nothing of substance to earn our trust.
I felt so put off by the strangeness and suddenness of the situation, I had to ask something, anything, to recenter myself. “Cadius, what is a demigod? No offense, but to my eyes you look, well, normal,” I asked him, throwing out the first question that came to mind.
By learning more about Cadius, I was hoping to form a more complete picture of what kind of person, or being, he was. He said he trusted us, but could we trust him?
Why didn’t I distrust him?
“Ahem,” Cadius cleared his throat. “I believe I should give Wolfram here the honor of explaining. I must admit, I feel a bit awkward talking about myself.”
Wolfram looked up in surprise. “Y-Yes, sir,” he stuttered, shifting to face us. “A demigod is a being who has authority over specific aspects of existence. Cadius here is the demigod of thieves, tricksters, and deception. Another would be Retraura, demigod of languor and tranquility.”
“I’m good friends with him, actually,” Cadius smirked.
“Much to my dismay,” Wolfram grumbled. He continued, “Back on topic, demigods have their own territory, country, whatever you want to call it. They govern in whatever way they see fit, but retain absolute authority, nonetheless.”
Lloyd and I nodded. Somehow, I was able to follow Wolfram’s long-winded explanation.
“There are two things you should know about demigods. The first is that they have unique abilities related to their aspects. Cadius – ”
“I can create illusions,” Cadius said, cutting off Wolfram. He then held up a hand. A perfectly white cube appeared, hovering in the air. Then it changed, rapidly cycling colors and shapes, before dissolving in a cloud of mist.
…Well that was certainly something.
Cadius chuckled, amused at our stupefaction. “The other thing you should know about demigods,” Cadius continued, “you’ve seen those rat-like people walking around town, right?”
“Yeah, the Ratatoskr,” I nodded.
“Yep! Those are my descendants,” Cadius revealed nonchalantly.
“…Huh?” was all I could respond with.
“I made them, well the first generation, anyways. That was… at least a couple hundred years ago, I think,” he clarified.
“So,” Lloyd began, speaking slowly, “all demigods can make their own races?”
“No,” Cadius shook his head, “only one race per demigod.”
“If they’re yours, then why did they attack us yesterday?” I asked accusatorily.
“Just as a grandparent has less authority than a parent does, my descendants are many, many generations removed. They aren’t ‘mine’,” Cadius explained. “As for the reason you were attacked, I did manipulate things so that your groups would encounter each other. I wanted to see with my own eyes how you faced a situation full of unknowns. As a bonus, it served as punishment for those troublemakers.”
This guy…
Lloyd was the one to voice my concerns, “Cadius, we mean no offense, but how are we supposed to trust you? You throw us into danger just to test us, break into our room just to leave us a letter, then admit to having spied on us for years.”
Cadius nodded, eyes closed. He sighed. “I understand.”
He sat up straight and took a deep breath. He exhaled, then met my eyes. “I, Cadius, swear on my title as demigod of thieves, tricksters, and deception, that what I have not lied to you in this conversation thus far,” he recited in a solemn tone.
Wolfram’s eyes went wide. “Sir!” he shouted.
“It’s fine. Relax, Wolfram,” said Cadius dismissively. “That was the best way to earn their trust.”
“Mrgg!” grumbled Wolfram, suppressing his grievances.
What just happened? It sounded like Cadius did something significant and Wolfram believed him reckless for doing so.
The confusion on my face must have been obvious, because Cadius spoke up, “When a demigod swears by their name, it is a binding oath, one that can never be willfully defied. The only way to rescind that oath is for the involved parties to agree to annul it.”
Ah, yeah, that’d do it. I looked over at Lloyd and saw him give Wolfram a sympathetic look. You too?! Am I really that bad?! Cadius offered me a shrug.