56 – Immoral Merchandise

The party spotted Taiival’s caravan as soon as they left the forest and its intrusive mist behind. Before them were the vast plains that made up this little triangle of Nocturnia of the Winds between the mountains, the forest they just emerged from, and Noctis. The caravan was made of three covered wagons pulled by beasts that looked like horses but weren’t quite right, being more muscular and a bit taller than them. Even more recognizable about these beasts, was the single horn that grew on the side of their head.

“Ah, perfectly on time. Welcome, friends!” Taiival exclaimed, hopping off the cart he was sitting at to greet the adventurers.

“Hi,” Melina said with a wave, having volunteered to interact with the merchant. “We are ready.”

Gone was the strange expression Taiival was wearing while in Lucius’ manor, and instead a smile was plastered on his face. “Good! Let’s depart then.”

Ishrin looked around, smelling the fresh air and feeling the sun on his face. Even though it was quite late in the year, close to the onset of winter, clear and sunny days were still somewhat common. The windy nature of the region made cloud cover buildup unlikely, and only a few places like the forest around Obscuria were clad in mists all year round, and that was for magical reasons. Everywhere else, the winds swept the excess moisture away, and provided you had something to cover yourself with, the days were still pleasant. Ishrin and his party had a spell to deal with the wind, a quick cantrip that most mages didn’t bother to learn because it took valuable space in their minds.

None of the members of the party had such problems, however. Ishrin seemed to know an uncountable number of spells, pulling new ones out of nowhere whenever he needed them. Lisette had a keen memory, and her interest in magic together with her natural talent made it so that it was no effort for her to learn new spells at a quick pace. Melina did not even need to use a spell, her natural control of wind more than enough to keep a few gusts from bothering her.

The rest of the caravan was not as equipped, and curses could be heard from cold, miserable merchants forced to endure the chilling wind. It was evident, in moments such as this, that the difference between a magically gifted individual and a mortal were stark, where someone like Ishrin or the members of his party could enjoy a warm sunny winter day while the rest of the people present were pretty miserable. Ishrin himself deliberated whether to help the merchants with a spell, but decided not to expose himself too much. They were in no danger, and should the situation change, then he might consider helping them.

“It should be nice and easy to Semiluminal”

“Right.” Melina said.

“A bit boring, even,” Lisette added, “I am kind of hoping someone dares to attack us. It would be a good opportunity to stretch our limbs and vent some frustrations.”

Ishrin hummed in agreement. He was also feeling antsy after the revelations of the manor and the failure with the water wisp, which was now reduced to a Tier 5 core in his inventory and a bitter memory. It spurred him to action though, as was evident by the swirling energies flowing around him as he tried to improve his control even as he instructed his team members on how to operate the defense of the caravan.

“Lisette, you take the middle wagon. Melina, you watch the rear. Eyes open. I’ll take the front and chat with Taiival.” Ishrin said and looked at Melina. “Don’t do strange stuff. Okay? Normal, non-nosy adventurer things only. I want to get to Semiluminal nice and easy with no added pain.”

Melina nodded, but her face betrayed her emotions, and even Lisette could tell that Ishrin’s comment had affected her by the way her fox ears had drooped to the side.

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“Need a pillow?” Ishrin asked them.

Lisette cocked her head.

“For the hard… seat… you know.”

“I do not.” Lisette said deadpan.

“I’m fine.” Melina said from a bit farther away.

“Your loss!” Ishrin said, taking out one such pillow for himself.

His attempt at defusing the tense atmosphere, which he had created by mistake with his earlier comment, was not a complete failure—if the thin smile on Melina’s face was any indication. He tossed her the pillow anyway, and made his way to Taiival. The merchant was looking at him with a mixture of interest, envy and disbelief at his antics. However, there was no questioning the gap in power between the mortals and the adventurers, no matter how strange their behaviors got. For a moment, it looked as if the merchant was about to make a comment on Ishrin’s decadent behavior when he produced yet another pillow to cushion the hard seat of the carriage, but no such comment came. When Ishrin offered one, Taiival simply shook his head.

“I’m used to traveling by cart, thank you.” He said. “I could have a better seat installed for me, after all, but I like the hard wood. Keeps me awake.”

Ishrin’s eyes narrowed. “Seems convoluted. You have your escort, you can doze off.”

“Please forgive me for insinuating that I do not trust you. I simply prefer to remain vigil.” Taiival said, a complicated expression touching his features for a moment.

The merchant had been expecting some sort of punishment for his comment, Ishrin realized, used as he was to people of Lucius’ caliber. A brief moment of silence followed, and Ishrin’s gaze settled on the strange beasts that were not quite horses pulling the carts. The merchant, seeing this, started talking about the beasts and their uses, recounting the story of how they were a gift from Lucius himself, how they were a half breed between actual horses and a monster called Paiishin.

How such a breeding process took place, it was never touched upon, but Ishrin could not help but conjure images of strange events happening in dark rooms deep in Obscuria, and he suppressed a shudder. Then the merchant explained how to tell between male and female animals by the position of their horns, forlornly adding that—sadly—the beasts were sterile.

“They are one of the… less known products of Obscuria.” The merchant said after Ishrin asked him why he had never seen such beasts around, “Lucius usually keeps them in the Mansion, but he gifted some to me to help me start my trade business, as an act of kindness.”

“Kindness?” Ishrin could not help but scoff at the absurdity of the statement. It was as if Taiival was reading off a script, a script that Ishrin couldn’t help but point out the inconsistencies of. “That man… lizard. Lizard, right?” The merchant nodded, amused. “Lizard. Well, he doesn’t seem the type to be kind without reason. He didn’t ask for anything in return?”

“Well,” Taiival shrugged. “You know how it is. A gift never goes unappreciated.”

Ishrin nodded. “You became his courier.”

“All I do is sell his wares, my friend.” Taiival smirked. “Nothing strange about that.”

“Do you also dabble in beasts yourself?” Ishrin asked, eyeing the half-breed Paiishins.

“I only transport, and sell.” Taiival said, showing his palms. There were rings on his fingers, and one of them seemed magical.

But dark thoughts, like premonitions were swirling on Ishrin’s mind. He couldn’t shake the feeling that perhaps some of the less ethical products had made their way to the caravan, and were being smuggled with his—although indirect—help. Some of them he was fine with, others… less so. He recognized the hypocrisy, but came to the conclusion that he didn’t care.

Still, he needed to know.

“Do you happen to sometimes transport other kind of beasts, monsters and strange creatures?”

“From time to time.”

“I am looking for exotic ones, not beasts of labor.” Ishrin continued. “Planar denizens, you know… someone would call them otherworldly. Demonic, maybe? Or elemental.” He said, tapping his chin, letting the last word linger.

The merchant looked in the distance, the corners of his mouth curving upwards. To him, Ishrin had just become a potential customer, one with deep enough pockets to buy him a ticket to a better life, perhaps free of Lucius’ influence. It wasn’t rare that adventurers turned to merchants if they were looking for things that the Guild did not, or could not provide—illegal things. But usually such transactions were never big enough to matter, and until recently there had never been powerful enough adventurers in Noctis for it to matter.

Three Tier 6 adventurers asking for his wares, for that was his deduction of their power since Ishrin seemed to be their leader and thus had to be at least their equal in power, was a different thing. The money to be made could be enough to finally buy himself freedom from his current overlord. Perhaps even escape, never to be seen again on this side of the continent.

“I might have something.” He said. “Not live ones of course, but it might tickle your fancy anyway. I will show you.”