Nyxpera

The 14th of Thargelion

The Year 4631 in the Era of Mortals

Arche froze. There were footsteps nearby, more than there should have been. He cast out his mental awareness, despite the ache in his mind. Six strangers surrounded them. Two in front, two to the sides, and two behind

“We’ll make this easy on you. Empty your inventories and we’ll let you go.” A man’s voice; low, gruff, and full of implied threat.

The Tridory sat crossways on Arche’s lap, but he was still seated. One of the strangers was too close to him for him to try anything. Any movement would be noticed.

“We don’t want any trouble,” Helwan said, fear making his voice tremble.

“Neither do we.” A different stranger, this time a woman, though the rasp around the voice indicated she wasn’t human. “So follow our instructions and there won’t be any.”

“You’re making a mistake,” Tess hissed. “Leave now and I’ll forget about it.”

“A tough one, eh? Don’t be a hero, love. You’re outnumbered. Try anything funny and your blind friend there will be the first to die.”

“Do we really look like we have anything value?” Arche asked aloud.

“You’re wearing mantikhoras armor, halfwit. Yeah, I reckon you’ve got coin and goods. You better be handing them over now or we’re going to get violent. Guards don’t patrol out this far. You won’t be found.”

“Shit.”

He’d forgotten his armor was made of a rare material. His grip tightened around the Tridory, preparing to do something reckless. The covers were on, making it look more like a metal staff than a spear, but it would still pack a punch.

“Last chance,” Tess said.

Arche felt her shift, a scrape of boot against dirt, but couldn’t get a strong enough sense of her to figure out what she was doing. He felt a current of emotion run through the three brigands near her, though. It was strong enough that he didn’t even need to try to enter their minds to feel it. Shock and fear in equal measure radiated from them.

“Listen,” one of the strangers said in a much more strained voice. “We didn’t mean anything by it. We don’t want no trouble with the Hekatonkheires. We’ll go.”

“Tell anyone of what you saw here tonight and I will find you.”

The strangers moved away from the group. Arche’s mind twinged in pain and his concentration broke. His psychic net bounded inward and he lost all sense of direction. He held a hand up to his temple, waiting for the pulsing in his head to stop.

“Are they gone yet?”

“They’re gone,” Cora said. “I’m not sure how they snuck up on us.”

“Thieves and cutthroats train Stealth above all their other skills,” Tess said. “It’s a matter of success and failure, life and death.”

“What happens when they find out you’re not a member of the Hekatonkheires?” Basil asked.

Tess didn’t answer. Instead she put her hands on Arche’s arm and helped him to his feet.

“We’ll get no rest tonight. We need to push on to Ship’s Shape. If we’re fast and lucky, we’ll make it by morning when the gates open.”

The group broke down their camp in silence. Arche stood helplessly to one side, frown hidden by the cloth wrapping his eyes. A night spent running wasn’t going to be great for any of them, but it was better to risk an ambush on the open road than wait for the bandits to return with more help. A hand gripped his own with tender care and led him forward.

“Will this be trouble?” he asked quietly.

“Probably.”

“Should we be concerned?”

“Absolutely.”

“Sounds about right. Don’t go off and try to solve all the problems on your own, all right? That’s my schtick.”

“Believe me, Arche, there’s no solving my problems.”

Arche gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

The ruck through the night was brutal. The constant up and down motion of the hills quickly exhausted them. As they crested each rise, they were able to catch another glimpse of the city, but no matter how much they jogged, it didn’t seem to come any closer, as the others lamented. To Arche, it made little difference. Going up the hills threatened to trip him while going down risked him tumbling all the way to the bottom. Tess stayed by his side the entire way, guiding him and holding him steady. He was probably reading too much into it, but it felt like he wasn’t the only one who needed the support.

Hours later, shortly after Arche could feel the warmth of sunlight on his skin, they came to a flat section of ground that gave him little trouble. The smell of salt was strong, carried by the wind, and the sound of thousands of voices and footsteps against stone were growing louder with every step they took. Arche became aware of more people moving around them. Their group stayed close together, maneuvering their way along. After another twenty minutes of crowded travel, Tess helped him come to a stop.

“State your business,” said a flat, monotone woman’s voice.

“Trade,” Tess said, answering immediately. “We bring items from afar to sell at market.”

“Please produce one for examination.” The inflection in the voice did not change. Whoever the guard was, she was clearly very bored with her job.

Tess let go of Arche’s arm. A few moments later, she held it again and they moved forward, ushered by the guard. Arche gripped the Tridory in one hand, tapping it out ahead of him in case there were obstacles. His other hand held tight to Tess’s for guidance. The city pressed against him, out of sight but immense. Shouting, bustling, the crying of birds, the scent of salty ocean air. Arche was surrounded by more people than ever before and it was overwhelming.

“Can you describe what’s happening to me?”

“We’re surrounded by buildings and people. The buildings are taller than the ones in Myriatos and made mostly of stone and wood. We’re on one of the major roads, also made of stone, near the outskirts of the city. There are people of nearly every race here, except for those that keep mostly to themselves.”

“Where are we headed?”

“To an inn. We need to find rooms for our stay. We can focus on finding a healer after that.”

The prospect of fixing his eyesight made Arche’s heart pound. Coming to terms with the limitations of his injury was more difficult than he would have imagined. It had, at least, given him a newfound respect for his other senses. Though he was still terrible at moving without use of his sight, he was slowly learning how to find things by sound or smell. His psychic abilities also helped, giving him some sense of location, so long as he was looking for something alive.

It was hard not to resent the injury, though he knew he shouldn’t. He hadn’t realized how important his sight was to him until it was stripped away. Unable to see, to fight, he was hard-pressed to say he hadn’t been dead-weight along their journey. Even in the city, they had to worry about keeping track of him, guiding him through the crowds to an inn. This, he realized, wasn’t a reflection of his disability but a reflection of himself. He was useful in a fight only because he had only made himself useful in a fight. Tess clearly understood city life at a level he couldn’t. Helwan had his knowledge of magic, music, and lore. Basil was inquisitive, always trying to learn how things worked, and optimistic. Cora was alert and suspicious of everyone, especially him, which was ironic, considering how little he trusted her.

Regardless of whether he could regain his vision, he had to widen his skillsets. He wouldn’t be useless.

A door opened nearby and Arche was ushered into a building. The dull roar of people outside gave way to the louder roar inside. A multitude of voices overlaid, each vying to be the loudest in the room. It was warm inside, the temperature driven up by the sheer number of bodies were packed into the place. He mumbled pardons as he squeezed through, never letting go of Tess’s guiding hand, even as she bartered with the innkeeper for their rooms.

In less than two minutes, Tess secured their lodging. Two adjacent rooms booked for two weeks, with potential to renew. The men in one room, the women in the other. Another five minutes and they’d crested a flight of stairs. The world went quiet at last. Arche entered the men’s room, led by Helwan, and sat down on a bed that was to be his home for the next month. He let out a shaky breath, his head pressed into the pillow, and he was asleep.

----------------------------------------

Arche woke completely disoriented, not knowing where he was or what was happening. He floundered, limbs trapped in a mess of fabric, and nearly summoned the Tridory before remembering that they had finally made it to Ship’s Shape.

“Sleep well?” Basil asked quietly.

“Well enough,” Arche replied, rubbing the side of his face. “Helwan still asleep?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“You wouldn’t be whispering, otherwise. Where are we, exactly?”

“The Shattered Pint. We’re on the outskirts of Mizzenmast Docks. Not a great place to be, but here we are.”

“What time is it?”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“Late. A few hours past sundown, at a guess.”

“Shit. Our sleep’s all kinds of fucked up, isn’t it?”

“I, erm, I suppose so.”

Arche winced.

“Sorry, I keep forgetting you guys don’t like the way I swear.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s just off-putting, is all.”

Arche nodded, finding himself losing interest in the conversation, so he tried steering it toward something more exciting.

“Basil, you’re from Ship’s Shape, right? Do you know of any healers that might be able to fix my eyes?”

Basil quietly blew his cheeks out.

“Well, not exactly, but they’ll probably be in the Cabin District or at the Lyceum Apokryfos.”

“Is that like uptown or something?”

“It’s the richer section of the city, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Excellent.”

Arche rubbed at his shoulders and neck, wishing he had taken the time to doff his armor before falling asleep. Sleeping with it on gave him terrible aches. Still, it was protection, and being in a city was no guarantee of safety. He was half-tempted to change but decided against it. Safety over comfort, at least for the moment.

“How long will it take you to get ready?”

“What? Arche, we can’t go right now.”

“Why not? I’m awake, you’re awake. Let’s go.”

“Even if it was a good idea, which it isn’t, the healer isn’t going to be available right now. Just stick it out one more day and we’ll all go together.”

Arche clenched and unclenched his fists. He didn’t want to wait another minute, let alone another day.

“Fine, fine. At the very least, does this inn have a bar? I could stand to have a real drink.”

There was a pause as Basil considered the proposition. Sandals hit the floorboards with a dull thud as the young Warrior stood.

“Come on, I’ll take you.”

Taking care not to wake Helwan, they snuck out of the room. Arche heard the noise coming from the barroom long before they reached it. Loud, raucous laughter and live music vibrated the air, resounding in his chest. The closer they moved, the more disoriented Arche became, unable to rely on his hearing to get a sense of people around him. The conversation swelled over him and he caught tidbits of a score of different talking points, each equally meaningless. Arche tightened his grip on Basil’s shoulder until he was eventually led to a table and made to sit down. Basil said something to him, but Arche was too distracted by all the noise to quite make it out. A few minutes later, something wooden pressed into his hands.

Arche’s fingers closed around the object out of reflex, finding it was a mug. The drink inside contained a sweet, honey-like aroma and burned like spices as he swallowed it.

“Like it? It’s called mead. Some traders brought the recipe over by ship a few hundred years ago,” Basil shouted at him over the din.

“It’s fantastic!”

The musicians were winding down their song and the crowd cheered and clapped for them, lapsing into a quieter state as they waited for the next song to begin.

“It sounds so busy here,” Arche said. “Is this common?”

“Many of the taverns and inns hire live entertainment to draw the crowds, but it’s not common to be this popular. Must be a good troupe.”

“We’ll have to convince one to come back to Myriatos. Ours know, like, three songs.”

Basil laughed but whatever response the man had was lost as the band struck the opening melody of their next song and the crowd erupted into cheers. Arche sat and swayed his head with the beat of the music. There were two singers in the band who took on the roles of key characters in a power ballad about love giving the power to overcome death, but that fear and doubt would snatch away that power, leaving the lovers to an eternity separated. The crowd loved the song, but it left Arche feeling haunted for reasons he didn’t quite know how to vocalize.

“A lovely song,” a voice said from next to him once the band had finished.

“Helwan,” Arche said in surprise. “You’re awake.”

“I heard the music and couldn’t stop myself. I’ve missed the music from Ship’s Shape. Many of the performers are attendees or graduates of the Bardic Arts.”

“What’s that?”

“One of the courses of study at the Lyceum. It’s a wonderful place. Music everywhere – and not just music. There’s art and poetry and storytelling and many, many more things that bring meaning to life.”

“Sounds like a good time.”

“And the parties! Goodness, me, do the bards know how to throw a party. Spontaneous music, incredible drinks, and the dancing is fantastic.”

Arche grinned.

“Bards college is the fun college, got it. Sounds like the place to be.”

“I hope we’ll have time to show it to you.”

“I’d like that. After my eyes heal, of course. Do you have any leads on that?”

“There are some private practices around the city that could probably do the work, but I think our best bet is at the Lyceum itself. They have some of the best healers this side of Tartarus and you’ll want to speak to them about your Mana Scars as well.”

“Sounds great. I doubt it’ll be as easy as just walking up and having them help us. How are we going to get in?”

“Leave that to me. I have some inroads.”

“I appreciate it. What about your employment? Are you worried about that at all?”

“Ah, yes, well.” Helwan paused and took a drink. “I think Lady Oyl will be interested in meeting you, but I don’t imagine she’ll be too pleased with me.”

“I suppose it’s not great if employees go running off on their own for a few months.”

“Very true. She runs the largest magical artifact emporium in Tartarus, with locations in every major kingdom. She would be a great boon to Myriatos if I can mend the mess I’ve caused.”

“You’ve mentioned some similar things in the past. What exactly is the nature of her business, again?”

“Bits and Baubles deals in magical items, both the acquisition and creation of them. If you’re searching for magical artifacts, there is no better source, no one more widely connected.”

“And you gave up working with her? How come?”

“I studied lore at the Lyceum. I’ve always been interested in the history of things. Working at Bits and Baubles allowed me to have some connection to antiquity. She has some truly impressive items in her collection, which I was allowed to research. Knowing the history behind an item makes it both easier to replicate and more expensive to sell, as you can give context for its abilities and historical usage. This was incredible, but I wanted more. I didn’t just want to study history, I wanted to experience it. I thought I would get that through expedition, so I hired adventurers and set off into the Sylv to find that spear of yours.”

“That didn’t end too well, as I recall.”

“No, not for my old compatriots, but for me, I got to meet you and Lyssa. I got to adventure with you for a time. I got to be useful. I was many things while working for Lady Oyl, but I was never particularly useful.”

“I have a hard time believing that.”

“Nonetheless, I was just one researcher, scouring texts and books for obscure mentions. It was stifling. Now, I have a voice in the village. I’ve been asked to start a school. What I do matters.”

“It does, Helwan, and we’re lucky to have you.”

“It’s good to hear you say that,” Helwan said quietly. “I think it’s time for another round of drinks. I’ll be back.”

The band finished their set as their conversation ended. Many of the patrons filed out, now that the music was over, leaving the room considerably quieter than it had been before. Mild conversation filled the tavern.

“Do you have anything you hope to do while we’re in town, Basil?” Arche asked, finishing the last of his drink.

“I’d like to see my mother and sister, if there’s time.”

If there had been drink left, Arche would have spilled it.

“You have family here? Why didn’t you say something?”

“Didn’t seem important.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s your family. We’ll make time to see them.”

“I appreciate that. I’ve not gotten to speak to them since I left.”

“They were all right with you just up and leaving for a new village?”

“Well,” Basil hesitated. “Not exactly. They were pretty upset, but it was good money and Callias didn’t ask a lot of questions about where we were from.”

“I see. I hope things go smoothly, then.”

“What about you? Do you have family?”

Arche considered the question. Before he could answer, a voice cut through the den and the crowd went quiet around it.

“If you serve him before us, there’s gonna be problems, barman.”

Arche turned his head toward the voice, forgetting for a moment that he couldn’t see. He turned back toward Basil.

“Trouble?”

“Trouble.”

“Helwan?”

“Helwan.”

“Fuck.”

“Gentlemen, please, there’s no need for unpleasantness,” Helwan said from across the bar. “By all means, barkeep, serve these fine folks first.”

“I can’t believe they let livestock in here. This place has really gone downhill, lately. This room is for people, little goat, why don’t you run along to your trough.”

Arche’s fist closed around the wooden mug as he got to his feet.

“An excellent jest, sir,” Helwan chuckled. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“I’m not joking, goat,” the man growled.

“Come off it, Hektor,” someone else said. “We’re supposed to be celebrating tonight.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” the man identified as Hektor said. “In that case, why don’t we have a little show. Do you dance, little goat? Give us a dance.”

“Excuse me,” Arche said, moving slowly toward the bar and the voices. “I would very much appreciate it if you stopped harassing my friend.”

The bar was almost deathly silent as Arche struggled to move around the tables and chairs. Finally, he made it to the bar and turned in the direction of the men.

“Pull your sleeve back up, Hektor. What’s a tattoo going to mean to a blind man?” the second stranger said.

“Oh, right. Look, we don’t have a problem with you, yet, but you should stay out of our business and keep better company. Otherwise, you should ask your friend there who we are.”

Arche cocked his head. A moment later, Helwan’s quiet voice answered.

“Hekatonkheires.”

Arche nodded, placing his hands on the bar, one of which still held the mug he’d been drinking from.

“I know who you are,” he said. “My friend has already been more than kind in allowing you to take his place in line. Anything further is clearly a personal issue that you need to work through yourself. But none of that gives you any right to be rude. I would appreciate an apology for my friend, here.”

There was a stunned silence.

“Are you…stupid?” Hektor asked. “Don’t think I won’t hurt you just because you’re blind.”

“I’m sure you could, but what would that prove? Do I pose any threat to you? I haven’t even insulted you. I’m just asking that you apologize for what you said to my friend.”

“Arche, don’t antagonize them,” Helwan hissed.

“You’re in no position to make demands of me.”

“Hektor, just leave it alone and grab our drinks.”

There was a grind of wood on wood as a chair was moved out of the way.

“I don’t like your tone,” Hektor growled. A hand landed on Arche’s shoulder. “Perhaps I should teach you how to properly address me.”

Arche looked in the direction of the man’s voice and smiled.

“Agreed.”

He smashed the mug into the man’s face and the bar erupted.