Āna led us down a corridor that looked like it was missing an “employees only” sign. The hallway alone is creepy but to think this is the way to the Black Terra Market ups the horror movie vibes. The only sounds should be us but I find myself ignoring voices that aren't ours.

"Wait," Āna said suddenly, "I need to ward you."

"What?!" Jorge blurted.

"Not you. Jay," she said.

"Wait, what. Why me?"

"Cause you're going into what's basically a flea market for everyone evil."

"Still not seeing the issue here…"

"You're a Paladin," she responded with a death stare.

I guess she has a point, I could be walking into the lion's den here. If the people that come here have a problem with me as a Paladin I would be like a cop patrolling alone, nobody would even offer us a sample. On the other hand I could end up having to fight someone as we walk in. I still can't believe I have to watch for Hellspawn and Paladins...

"We're not doin' the warding thing," I said, causing Āna to stop looking through her purse.

"Explain."

"I have a plan that should gain the respect of the people here."

"Oh and what would make hellspawn and witches respect a Paladin?"

"The fact that the Paladin among them is comfortable...among them."

"But you're not…"

"But a Black Paladin is," Jorge intervened.

"Or that's the idea at least," I added.

"So you’re hoping for the perfect scenario, great~," Āna responded sarcastically. She turned and continued leading us down the corridor.

Jorge and I have discussed how to "promote" the image of The Rogue before. I came up with the idea of impersonating a Black Paladin. Black Paladins are like Black Knights, darker tactics, darker outlook, and more comfortable with evil. However, Black Paladins aren't real Paladins, but they're definitely able to hold their own against Hellspawn. We know that newer Paladins have been taught that I'm Hell's Paladin, I doubt any of us can change their mindset. The normal person views me as evil, I say normal because the people that don't view me that way are not normal. Āna believes I have the same amount of followers as some of Hell's princes, she thinks they're mostly witches though. According to her, going public now may result in these followers increasing in number and creating a public presence. Then there's the hellspawn, who Āna jokingly says has mixed reviews over me. Apparently their viewpoints range from Hell's superhero to Lucifer's second greatest threat. If we could shift Hell's opinion of me, I might be able to walk through Hell without someone trying to kill me. Changing minds on Earth is a different matter, one I expect to be far more difficult. Not only do I have to fight the slander of other Paladins, I don't actually know which is true or not. My best option would be to admit that the previous Rogue died but that would mean revealing my father's true identity to a world that has forgotten him. I'd hate to even consider ruining what little the other Paladins thought of him.

"Me and Jorge came up wit' what we think is a decent plan," I start.

"Yeah, you want demons, devils and Hell's worshippers not to kill you on site," Āna stopped and turned around, "right?"

"Who's Hell's worshippers?," Jorge asked.

"Bro, witches and such," I shift back to Āna. "For the most part, yes. But wouldn't it be better if we can turn to hellspawn for help throughout my life, and even befriend some of them?"

"You two know demons aren't as cool as me right? And that seems like a lotta work to get help wit' school projects," Āna said.

"Y’know I mean more than just that."

"Yeah yeah, I get it,” she sighed. “Just transform, we can talk about it later."

I stretch my arms out in front of me looking at my palms. I turn my hands around to welcome the familiar black flame. There's a comforting warmth as it engulfs me. I feel the presence of my armor as the flame passes over my clothes. I can feel my breastplate as the flames culminate on my chest. I reach for an imaginary hood and pull it over my head causing black flames to rain over my face like a waterfall. As long as my hood is on, my face is hidden; that was one of my first lessons from Āna after my transformation.

"I always forget you can completely hide your face wit' just a hood," Jorge commented.

"Oh bro, I forgot to get something to conceal you!"

"I need a disguise too?," Jorge asked.

"Yeah, you do," Āna chimed in, "but don't worry I have something," she said with a grin. She rumbles through her purse a little before pulling out a small gem-like rock. "This hex should work fine," before any of us had time to react to her comment she pressed the rock on Jorge's chest.

"Uhhhhh," Jorge and I are equally confused.

"Don't make it weird," she said.

"It's too late for that," Jorge replied.

"So what exactly are you doing?," I asked somewhat concerned.

"Give it a minute," Āna answered, putting the rock back into her purse. "It usually doesn't take this long, it could be unstable."

"WHAT?!," Jorge panicked.

"Calm down, you'll only make it worse!," she snapped. Suddenly runes appear on Jorge's arms. I only recognize a few of them but it looks like disguising runes.

"Whoa, what's goin' on?," his mood changes immediately.

"It's a harmless spell."

"That's not a thing," I interjected.

"That only applies when humans do spellwork. And this is harmless because it literally does nothing," she reassured us.

"Then what's tha' point? This stuff feels weird," Jorge said.

"To make everyone looking at you think you're using a concealment."

"Ooohhh, people looking at him will think his face is a disguise," I realize.

"Well most people yeah," she said with only a hint of concern. "The expert spellcasters may be able to tell that the runes aren't really doing anything, besides glowing."

"Isn't this place full of expert spellcasters?" Jorge asked.

"Not really, the people here can range from magical amateurs to expert spellcasters to the Titled of Hell. Hell's princes and princesses even come here from time to time, usually to avoid the big crowds of the major hybrid markets. But even they send representatives and slaves sometimes. I’ve only seen amateurs here though," Āna explains.

"So this'll work fine?," I asked her, concerned for my best friend.

"...."

"Āna!"

"Yeah, it's fine~, now calm down. We're goin' in," she said walking towards the wall.

"Uhh bro…" Jorge said, confused.

"It's a concealment, c'mon," she said.

"Wait!,” I exclaimed. "I thought you're not s'pose to mix concealments."

"First of all, mixing concealments is using more than one concealment on an object or creature. Second, which we just discussed not even two minutes ago, Jorge's concealment isn't even real," she explained.

"Facts bro," Jorge said with newfound confidence in Āna.

"See, now let's go," she said before strolling through the wall. This is a new concealment for me, instead of it rippling like water, it acts more like a thick fog. Even though Āna has completely passed through the concealment, you can still make out her silhouette through the fog. Looking past her is difficult but it's possible to see parts of the market in the distance.

"Hey, are we in a rush?" Jorge asked.

"I don't know bro, she just be like that sometimes," I said heading towards the wall.

"Yo hol' up, I'm safe to walk through right?"

"I mean, I guess so. If not, Āna could heal you."

"Could or will?"

"...See ya' on tha' otha' side!"

I step backwards into the concealment, Jorge's voice now faint as he protests. It's as if the wall we once saw is actually between the two of us now. I don't feel myself on the other side of the concealment but I hear it. It sounds like the mall we just left from, conversations on current events, gossip, people looking for certain stores, and even parents telling kids to stay close. I know they're like us but for some reason I still expected something more sinister. I turn around to see what looks like the combination of a flea market and a mall. While some stores are refined, others are simply tents with people selling out of boxes like a rummage sale.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"Whoa, dude this almost looks like the mall. It's like we stepped through a funhouse mirror," Jorge said, after finally crossing through.

"Yeah, it makes me regret not coming here earlier. Your runes don't burn or anything right?"

"It tingles a bit, like there's something crawling on me but not in a creepy way. It's almost calming actually." I'm surprised but relieved he's okay. The runes have a vibrant blue glow, but they're subtle enough that he doesn't stand out amongst a crowd. He looks at the rune with almost childlike wonder.

"Well the runes look good on ya' bro."

"Ehh, they look alright," Āna chimed in quietly.

"And where'd you run off to?" I asked.

"Only a few steps away, master," she answered, motioning for us to get closer. "Okay look, I only now realized that the higher ups' here should recognize Jay as The Rogue, I think they'll be the only ones that do. But just in case anyone doubts his identity as The Rogue, Jorge and I will be playing the roles of servant and slave. We'll both address you as 'master', Jorge's runes will make him appear to be a concealed bestial. I'll flex my power and by addressing you as my master people should naturally assume you're stronger than me."

"I thought Jay is stronger than you?" Jorge asked, which he shouldn't have.

"You know I could wipe Jay's memory of you and it'll take him at least three years before his memories of you come back and they'll only be faint, vague dreams."

"...That's cold. So you think this'll actually work?" I ask.

"Hol' up, we just gon' skip over the part where she threatened me?!" Jorge exclaimed.

"Bro calm down, it's an empty threat."

"It's not though…"

"Anyway, Āna what's the layout here?"

"So this place is decently organized," she pulls out a brochure to reveal what looks like a cartoon map. "We're here," she said as a white dot appeared on the map. "This market is similar to the Super Six flea market but with districts. We're heading to the magic district." This time a section of map was outlined in a soft pink glow along with a rune-like symbol on the bottom of the brochure, labeling the section she called out.

"These symbols at the bottom, the legend?" I ask.

"Yeah, each symbol is a district. You read the symbol and the corresponding district glows on the map. There's the armory, magic, fashion and slavers." As she named them off each symbol, the corresponding section glowed, blood red for armory, soft pink for magic, light blue for fashion, and dim violet for slavers. Right now we're at the edge of the fashion district next to the magic district.

"So why don't we get a slave then release them afterwards?" Jorge asked.

"You two are looking for more of a servant and less of a slave. Plus the two of you couldn't afford one," she answered.

"So we B-line for the magic district and get the summoning ingredients," I interject.

"Oh so you two did your homework before coming down here, huh?," she seemed surprised.

"Of course," Jorge answered. "We gotta be prepared y'know."

"Well then", Āna started while breaking away from the huddle. "This way master."

I motioned Jorge to get by my side and we followed Āna. We're in the fashion district and even though its appearance is similar to that of the mall we were in moments ago, it has more of a flea market atmosphere. Actually, a more accurate label here is a flea market for magic users. There's a jeans store from the surface, name brand stores from Hell, even a store that sells what I'm assuming are mages' robes.

"Magic Waters, bikinis for every occasion from water to magma. Can Āna swim in a volcano?" Jorge asked.

"Master, the magic district is this way," Āna said.

"Thank you, I'll continue following you."

From a classic mall aesthetic to that of a bazaar seen in an adventure movie, it's obvious that we're in a different part of the market. There’s more people here and amongst them more hellspawn, but most of the hellspawn here almost look human enough to walk through crowds on earth without causing a panic, almost. Most people here are also hiding their faces in one way or another, we need to be more cautious here.

"Bro," Jorge whispers. "Is it me or are people staring at us?"

"It's probably because Āna is leadin' us don't worry ‘bout it too much." I didn't notice at first but he's right. There's more people looking at us in this district, it's also significantly more crowded here. More people, more eyes maybe? Even then that doesn't explain why people are mystified by us. Is Āna's presence that strong or am I missing something?

"Master," Āna stopped. "We are here."

We're in front of a shop that looks more like a fancy circus tent with a display window. They have normal promotions on display that feel out of place. 2 for 1 on bleach, 12-packs of what I'm assuming is soda or juice on sale this week, and even some clothes on clearance this month. If I saw this display on the surface I'd think it was one of those foreign department stores, Emporium Cultures.

"Thank you famula, this way J," I called to Jorge. As I walked past Āna I noticed her blushing but paid it no mind. The inside of this place is comically huge compared to what we saw outside. This entire place looks like a grocery store with maybe four times more aisles. It's hard to see but in the distance is what I'm assuming are checkout lines. Luckily the aisles are numbered and labeled, meticulously labeled: Aisle twelve, reptile parts, amphibian parts, water-dwelling terran mammal parts.

"Yo bro, what did you call Ānanda back there?," Jorge whispered.

"What?"

"What'd you call 'er, she like, froze or something."

"I didn't freeze!," Āna snapped. "I was just taken by surprise is all."

"What are we even talkin' about right now?," I asked.

"You called her something like familia but not in spanish, a different language, Portuguese?" Jorge asked.

"First, it was Latin, why would I teach him Portuguese? Second, he said famula," she said softly.

"Bro, there were stars in 'er eyes, what does famula even mean?"

"Dude I wasn't even aware I knew Latin up 'til now, it was probably instinctual," I explained.

"Instinctual? You mean it?!," she asked excitedly. Actually, I don't think I've ever seen Āna this excited before. "And I didn't have 'stars in my eyes', he caught me off guard is all…"

"Aren't you always on guard though?" Jorge asked, causing Āna's death stare.

"Ayy we could talk 'bout it later, or not at all. Right now we gotta focus on findin' tha' stuff," I said, attempting to sound commanding.

"Calm down, I know where to find what, c'mon," Āna said, taking the lead again. Passing by the aisles, I notice that the store doesn't feel magical but definitely looks the part. Not only do the aisles seem endless, they don't scientifically fit into this old circus tent of a store, and they're all well stocked. The shelves look the height of basketball goals and the more of them we pass the more my concern grows. I can tell Jorge is a little concerned too, maybe because of how daunting all of this is.

"Alright hol' up, where is everybody?!" Jorge blurted out.

"Oh, so you noticed?" I asked calmly.

"Bro it's like North Market but after closing, and one hundred times creepier. I feel like we're the only people here right now."

"Calm down Jorgie," Āna teased, "they're probably just in other parts of the store."

"Okay but why this place, isn't there a less creepy store we coulda' went to?" Jorge asked.

"Well…think of it like this. If you went to an American restaurant you'd expect different dishes from the states but, if you went to a fried chicken place, you'd only expect chicken and a few sides. Maybe even grilled chicken."

"So by that logic, there's a store we could be at that sells only the ingredients we need?" I asked.

"If we did it like that then we'd be goin' to five or six different places. It's better to come here and get everything from one place, plus less people means less attention."

"This place is creepy AF, but she got a point bro," Jorge agreed.

"Hol' up, I was tryna help you out. Look even if there's less people this store is still huge, we may need help finding everything."

"Hi!"

"OHMAGOSH!" Jorge jumped.

We turn around to be greeted by a short girl with half her hair matte black, the other half pearl white. She has a blank white tee shirt with a short cloak over her shoulders that looks almost like a cape. A decorated apron hangs in front of her knee length black skirt, coupled with snow white gloves, her look is best described as traditional maid meets salem witch.

"Apologies, I didn't mean to startle your acolyte sir," she said softly. "My name is Lurlamia, how may I assist you today?"

"Your requisition list master," Āna said, handing me a paper. I glance over the list, it looks like everything we need plus some, minus the soul.

"Here's everything we need," I said, handing Lurlamia the paper. "Do you have it all?"

She looked at the list for maybe two seconds before answering. "Common greater summoning, we house all the ingredients, except souls of course. One moment please." She winked at me then turned around. She did some glyph or rune in the air then started to walk up invisible stairs. With each step her foot gracefully lands on a small, violet diamond that shortly fizzled out of existence allowing no more then five diamonds to exist at a time. One ingredient was close by as she stopped not even a couple yards away to grab a jar. A large diamond portal that looked like the diamonds she stood on opened up on her right, she pulled a tote out of it and placed the jar inside. Even hell's markets use reusable bags, interesting. She opened another portal in front of her and began grabbing multiple items then placing them in the tote.

"Yo, did she call me an 'acolyte'?" Jorge asked quietly.

"It's because of the runes," Āna answered. "They're similar to the marks of an adept apprentice, aka an acolyte."

"So she thinks we're a mage and entourage?" I asked.

"I'd imagine she thinks you're The Rogue," Āna answered..

"So your plan is working as intended?" I asked.

"I think so, yeah. Heaven and Hell seem to think The Rogue is in hiding for some 'grand scheme', but I haven't been able to get all the details. If it helps, I do know that newer Paladins are no longer taught how to combat The Rogue should they encounter you. Sooo, you have that advantage," Āna explained.

"So the only reason she thinks I'm The Rogue is because you're with me," I asked.

"It's because you're pulsing."

"I'm what???"

"Wait, that's him?" Jorge asked.

"Yeah, he's pulsating his power, probably try’na flex or something," Āna answered.

"Hol' up, I'm what?"

"Are you not doing it on purpose?" Āna asked, confusion on her face.

"Here you all are, oh is something wrong? I didn't take too long did I?" Lurlamia asked.

"No we're-"

"Lurlamia," I cut off Āna, "do you know who I am?"

"Of course."

"What's my name?"

"Oh no no no," she dropped to her knees pleading. "I don't know your name! I only know you as The Rogue, please you have to believe me!"

I looked over at Āna completely lost as to what's actually happening right now. She motioned for me to play along, I turned to Jorge who just shrugged like there isn't anything wrong with this. This isn't right but if this is how they choose to see me I'll have to work with it for now.

"Stand"

She scrambled to her trying to hold back tears but unable to mask her fear. The fear is still the most intriguing part to me. I'm not sure of all my father's actions but there has to be more to what he did than Āna told me. Despite me taking no action since my father's death, this girl is still terrified of me, or him. This goes beyond "sins of the father", it's as if my damnification was written before my birth into The Rogue.

"Did you manage to receive all that I asked for?"

"Y-yes, it's all here in these tote bags."

"Famula,” I said, pointing to the bags.

"Yes, of course master," Āna answered. She approached Lurlamia, taking the totes and inspecting its contents. "It's all here master," she confirmed. She took a short moment to open a fiery portal beneath her and gently passed the totes through as if they'd break if she were not careful. I turn to Lurlamia, she's looking down but, I feel like she has more to say.

"Is something wrong?" I asked firmly.

"Th-that will be-"

"Will be what?" I snapped, causing her to flinch.

"Will be on the house…," she muttered, still avoiding eye contact.

"Thank you Lurlamia, your services will not be forgotten." As I turned to leave she grabbed my cloak. I instinctively swung around grabbing her wrist and glaring into her eyes. I clearly took her by surprise but her eyes, the fear present is…familiar. I release my grip slowly, "what else do you want?"

"C-Can you please sign my apron? Please…," she asked gently.

"...Sure."

-ET Lavillis