Stormy nipped my ear and then swatted her paws in front of my face from my shoulder, somehow disrupting the silver-blue threads of the necklace-spider.

"Say, that’s a pretty necklace," I growled, retreating further back from Cali as I stared at the convergence of silver and blue lines on her chest.

"This old thing?" Cali asked, walking towards me, her slender fingers lightly caressing the cool, smooth surface of the biggest crystal hanging on her chest. "Just a family heirloom. Passed down through generations of merchants on my mother's side. Legend has it that it brings good fortune in trade."

She smiled at me with sharp feline chompers, purposefully advancing in my direction.

“Come on,” she sang. “Come back to the table and sign the contract for me, Ioan! Pretty please?”

"No," I retreated further back.

“Sign the contract,” Callista’s face strained, the smile sliding off it. “I order you to sign it!”

The silver-blue flare visible in my Astralscope coming from her chest intensified, became a hundred times more solid, struck at me with threads flailing across the air like octopus feelers.

My mind became a mire once again at her words, but then Zemy’s Band banners above and all around us suddenly shimmered with gold, green and blue radiant flashes and the hundreds of the spider-leg threads stretched between Cali and me simply shattered in the air, turning into blue motes of stardust.

Before Cali could say another order or rebuild her mind-control threads, I reached the Arcanoelastic remote in my pocket and pointed it at the massive hexagram on the floor beneath her feet. I had drawn this oversized hexagram on the floor a few days ago to test to see how deep my domain extended under the pub using Glinka’s fish spirit tied to a string.

“Is that… a paddle?” The merchant blinked at the remote. “What’s that for?”

I turned the remote knob to its maximum setting and pressed the activator switch with my thumb just as Callista stepped into the center of the barely visible chalk hexagram.

"Drown," I said simply.

The word left my lips not with a shout, not with the righteous fury of a hero, but with the calculating finality of a scientific statement. Survival in Thornwild was a brutal, uncompromising game, one best played with a cool head and a steady hand wielding a matter-manipulating remote.

As the word echoed through the room, a tremor ran through the floor of the pub. The circle of three meters of pub’s floor, planks that had stood firm for generations suddenly became malleable. The sturdy oak beneath Callista’s feet rippled and twisted, transforming from solid wood into a churning vortex of liquid mire.

“Goldara’s tits! What the shit?!” Callista shrieked. Her eyes widened with disbelief as her white leather boots suddenly sunk into the floor.

She thrashed wildly, her arms flailing as she struggled to free herself from the grasping muck.

The more she fought, the deeper she sank, the viscous ooze clinging to her with an almost sentient hunger, dragging her down towards the cold, dark heart of the earth.

I watched her descent with a detached curiosity.

“How? What?!” Callista choked, her voice barely a gurgle as the mire rose to her waist. “You’re just a… a… b-boy!”

Her words dissolved into a strangled gasp as the floor swallowed her waist and then chest.

“Oh Gods, what vile sorcery is this?! Let go of me!” She clawed at the floor, eyes filled with terror, but there was nothing for her to grab onto. The viscous mire of the liquefied floor suspended somewhere between solid and liquid, held her tight, wasn’t conducive for swimming in.

“Please, No!” Callista’s desperate voice reached me from the floor. The mire had reached her neck, her beautiful face now contorted into a mask of pure terror.

Her gaudy blue gemstone necklace vanished in the liquefied soil and wood and its mind-manipulating power suddenly extinguished, now feeling like a mildly annoying silver-blue spark buried in the depths of my domain.

With it gone under, the red threads reaching out to me vanished. My mind cleared completely. I watched dispassionately as Cali flailed, wept and begged, sinking deeper with each second.

A strangled cry escaped her lips as the viscous muck threatened to engulf her completely, leaving only a pair of pale hands, their manicured fingers scrabbling desperately at the edges of the churning wood. For a moment, as her head rose above the floor for one last breath, I saw a flicker of my own mortality reflected in her blue eyes, a stark reminder of the fragility of life, the brutal indifference of the forces that governed our existence in an incomprehensibly vast universe.

“Solidify,” I said, flicking the switch off just a second before her face fully vanished under.

The transformation was sudden and absolute. The churning mire seized, the pub’s floor transforming back into solid wood, albeit now slightly warped and uneven due to the girl’s mad thrashing.

Callista’s terrified face stared up at me from the floor, her body trapped up to her chin in the now once again solid wood. Her carefully-coiffed white hair was now matted with earth, fused into the dirty floor. Her hands were sticking out to her wrists from the floor, pale fingers grasping at the air.

Gone was the overly-friendly merchant, the master manipulator who had effortlessly bent me to her will. In its place was just a scared girl, looking up at me with wide eyes. For a moment, we simply stared at each other, the only sound the crackling of the fire and the frantic thudding of my own heart.

I walked to the stove and grabbed the biggest kitchen knife I could find, its bone handle cold and smooth in my palm.

Stormy growled from my shoulder as I approached the entombed merchant. The kitten’s silver-violet eyes were fixed on Callista with a chilling intensity that mirrored the predatory instinct I felt stirring within my own soul.

“P-p-please,” Cali whispered, her blue eyes filling with tears as she stared at the knife in my hand.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I crouched beside Callista, bringing my face close to hers. The scent of her expensive perfume or shampoo, a cloying blend of exotic flowers, did little to mask the underlying tang of fear that now clung to her like a shroud.

"Please, what?" I asked.

Her ocean-blue, wide eyes flashed left and right and then settled back on mine.

"P-Please d-don’t,” she repeated as I struck the knife into the floor next to her pretty face, making her flinch.

“Don’t what?” I arched an eyebrow.

"Please, d-d-don’t k-kill me," she choked out. "I… I didn't mean anything by it. The contract… it was just a jest. A b-bit of fun!"

"Fun?" I asked. "Do tell me, Callista–what’s so fun about using mind-controlling artifacts to manipulate a poor, dragon-orphaned boy to sign questionable paperwork?”

Callista's breath emerged in short, panicked gasps. "I... I'm sorry," she whimpered, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. "It's just... it's how we do things in Iridium. Every g-gal uses a little... p-persuasion. I didn't mean any harm, truly!"

I leaned in closer, my voice low and cold. "And what exactly were you planning to do with me once I signed that contract of yours?"

She swallowed hard, her cat ears flattening against her head. "J-just... just take you South. To Iridium."

"Why?" I arched an eyebrow.

"T-to make you mine," Cali choked out.

"Yours?" I growled.

"Y-yes!" She nodded.

“You’re just like those bastards from Bernt then… and here I thought that you were actually nice! Ha, my mistake for trusting a pretty face, I guess. Is this what you do, collect slaves?"

Callista flinched at the word. "N-no! Not slaves. These contracts create... in-indentured servants. It's t-temporary! And they're treated well, I swear! I thought that you could make a good sailor… b-because… you resisted my charm for so long!”

She was probably lying again.

I stood up, looking down at her trapped form. "You know, Callista, maybe I should leave you in the floor. Or chop you up and feed you to my plants? What do you think, Stormy?”

“Grrrwwrrr,” Stormy replied.

“W-what plants?!” the Felix Arcanicx stammered.

I went across the pub, pulling cloths off the garden and opening cases to reveal violet tinted flowers, moss and grass.

“What the shit,” Cali's eyes became as big as two teacups. “That's impossible… How are all these flowers even alive?! The White Blight and the cold… it should have killed everything green here!”

“Here, does this flower feel dead to you?” I nipped a violet-tinted Lilium candidum from the flower patch and slid it in front of her ear as a decoration. It seemed fitting. The merchant stared at the flower with a shocked expression.

Stormy jumped off my shoulder and sat down next to Cali’s head. She started licking herself in front of the incredibly confused and terrified merchant.

“It… it hurts,” Cali whimpered. “Please… p-pull me out! I can't breathe! My chest is constricted by the… the floor. I… I don't want to die here!”

“Let's test something,” I said. “Stormy, you can sniff the future… so, if she lies about a statement, slap her face. Otherwise, let her be.”

“Mrrrwwrr,” the kitten replied, raising a paw.

Cali swallowed.

I grabbed the contract and the pen from the table and dangled them in front of her face.

“How long is this 'indentured servant' contract for?” I asked.

“Just for a few yea…” Cali began which earned her a swat of kitten paw across the face.

“If you lie again, I’m going to tell Stormy to use claws and aim for your eyes,” I said. “And if you lie to me twice, I’m just going to make you drown and claim your sled and everything within it for myself. I don’t appreciate being deceived, merchant.”

“I… I won’t lie again, I swe-swear!” the Arcanicx swallowed, staring at the black kitten.

Stormy’s paw, which now featured sharp, extended claws, didn’t strike her face this time.

“See, isn’t honesty fun? Now, how does this contract work?” I asked, my voice as sharp as steel. “Explain everything and don’t skip on the details.”

Callista’s eyes darted between me and Stormy, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.

"The... the contract," she began hesitantly, "is a b-blood pact. The g-gold pen extracts the blood of the signer. When signed, it binds the signer’s blood to the holder of the contract’s scroll tube."

I raised an eyebrow. Stormy's paw remained still.

"Go on," I prompted. "How long is this contract for?"

"It's... it's permanent," Cali continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "The man who signs it becomes a t-thrall, bound to obey the contract holder's every command. Disobedience to their owner’s orders isn't permitted."

Stormy's tail swished in agitation, but her paw didn't move.

"And what happens to thralls in Iridium after they sign such contracts?" I asked.

Cali swallowed hard. "They're... they're generally sold at the flesh auction along with the golden tube artifact. To the highest bidder. Some become gladiators or warriors, others... entertainment or bodyguards. The wealthy of Iridium always want new playthings."

I clenched my fists, disgust and anger roiling in my gut. "How many Nordstaii people have you enslaved like this, Callista?"

Her eyes filled with more tears. "None so far," she whispered. "I… you were supposed to be my first big catch! I wanted to keep you f-for myself! You're a Nordstaii Champion born from dragonfire, one who will grow in strength and b-be m-my personal bodyguard!"

"Who told you that I was a hero?" I asked.

"Cecil of Bernt," she said. "He saw you take down two men with impossible speed. Mortals don't survive dragon attacks!"

“Are there any other slaves in your sled?” I demanded.

“N-no,” the Arcanicx shook her head.

I crossed my arms.

“It’s far better to be a bodyguard in the South than to die here from starvation! There’s no escape from the White Blight! Don’t you understand it?” She cried. “Every tree in your village is dead, Ioan! The White Blight feeds on plants and is unknowingly spread by humans! Only sunlight can harm it and there’s just not enough of that here!”

Stormy's paw remained still, confirming the horrifying truth of her words.

"And the necklace?" I asked, gesturing to the blue gem amalgamation now buried in the floor. "What does it do?"

"It's a Liesl lavaliere… a Sorceress-made d-device binding the shard of the W-Wormwood S-star I carry!" Cali explained, her voice trembling. "It... it enhances my natural charm, makes people more susceptible to s-suggestions and orders. Combined with my Felix Arcanicx Charisma, it's... it's nearly irresistible. It’s a familial weapon, created to p-protect me!”

I nodded slowly, pieces falling into place. "And that's why you were so surprised I could resist it for so long."

Cali nodded as much as her trapped position would allow. "Yes. You're... you're different somehow. Special. The way you dealt with men from Bernt… I thought you were a young, clueless Dyrkjarl… b-but you also ordered the floor to become liquid and that… that’s just not possible, that’s s-some kind of magic and men cannot do magic!”

I crouched down next to her again, my voice low and dangerous. "You have no idea how special I truly am, Callista. Now, tell me why I shouldn’t just drown you."

"Please," she begged, "I... I can be useful! I know things, trade routes, secrets! I can help you! I can take you South, without any contract! I can read and write in Nordstaii, Terelec, Monganesh, Scallirian, Iridian… I am an omniglot and I know nearly every language of every tribe from the Castian Sea to the glacier-engulfed North!”

Stormy's paw twitched but didn't strike.

I considered her words carefully. "And why should I trust anything you say?"

“I…” Cali trembled.

Stormy growled at the merchant, claw armed and ready, pulling it back for the swat. My familiar was sensing an inevitable future lie.

I slid the contract over to the merchant and put the blood pen into her trembling fingers.

“Sign it on the dotted line,” I said simply as I wrapped my fingers around the golden tube.