“Fancy seeing you here,” Sunday said with a smile.

Elora just stared. Her blonde hair was messy, and she was dressed only in simple almost sheer nightgown that was probably more expensive than all of Sunday’s clothes combined. His eyes strayed a bit, but he did his best to be very interested in a painting handing nearby the bed.

“What do you mean ‘fancy seeing you here’?! This is my home! If my mom finds out—”

Voices came from the outside and Elora paled.

“Quick, go there!” She pointed at a door to the side.

“Why don’t I just jump—”

“Go, you dumb bastard!”

Sunday's eyes widened and he let himself get pushed into what appeared to be a humongous closet. Dresses of all sorts hung all around, looking brand new. On the other side were the combat clothes he had seen Elora wear before. They too were obviously custom-made. A few pieces were a bit much, covered in spikes, having too many leather straps, and too little actual coverage.

He let his mind go wild for a few moments until the shouting took over his world.

Both Elora and her mom apparently had a gift when it came to making their voices painfully loud.

“How could you insult him in front of a messanger?!” Elora’s mother shouted. “He’s one of the most important people in this city! You should be ashamed of yourself, young lady! You’ve brought nothing but suffering to this house!”

“He’s a piece of shit so are the members of the council you are so proud of!” Elora shouted in return. “I’d rather die than become some puppet like you or Dad!”

“Watch your tongue! He’s the Baron of Blumwin and you will show respect. Insulting him in front of his messenger is foolish! You can’t imagine the power he has. That rotten undead everyone’s so interested in is a golden ticket, and you threw it away! Know your place, little girl!”

Oh, am I that rotten undead golden ticket? What does that have to do with the Baron? Isn’t he a nice guy?

“Or what? Do you think your goons scare me? I’m a mage now!”

“Only because of what the house gave you!”

“If it’s so easy, why don’t you become one? Huh?”

“Don’t take that tone with me, Elora!”

“Come on, try me! See where that takes you and the scum you employ!”

Sunday opted to stare at the dresses at this point. This was… not quite the life he had envisioned for someone like Elora.

I should’ve just jumped through the balcony… At least his talent had worked. That was a celebratory occasion, even if it hadn’t done what he had wanted it to. Activating it was the first step. It meant he could potentially stop it from activating on its own. Even was better than being saved by random acts of bullshit.

There was banging of doors and more screaming, then quiet. Sunday could feel the tension and sank into a row of silk dresses in an attempt to hide himself.

The door opened and Elora eyed him with murder. She closed it behind her, before plopping in the middle of the room-sized closet.

“So… Mom’s huh?” Sunday awkwardly said.

“What are you doing here? Are you robbing us? Or are you… trying to find me?” Elora asked. With each word, her attitude seemed to soften, until her face was nothing but fatigue and curiosity. The change had come quickly and was unnerving.

“Would you believe me if I told you I just appeared in your dining room by chance? A talent mishap while… while I was meditating.”

Elora frowned and seemed thoughtful. She sighed. “Sure, why not? You’re weird as hell anyway. It’s not the strangest thing that’s been happening around here.”

There was uncomfortable silence for a few moments until Elora finally grabbed a cloak from the wall and threw it over herself.

“Is that better?” she asked.

“Not better. Not by a long shot, but I’ll take it. Say, what was that about the rotten undead and the vampire Baron?”

Elora chewed on her lip. “Please don’t hate my mom. She’s… she’s delusional. And don’t hate me.”

Sunday nodded. He didn’t want to hate anyone if it could be helped, so a request like that was easy.

“The Vampire Baron has been very gracious to me and resolved quite a few issues I created. So, this… this didn’t sound quite good,” he said.

“You shouldn’t trust him. You shouldn’t trust anyone in this fucking city,” the girl said with a grimace. “They think… they think you’re special. That you’re a key to something. They want to learn more about you and want to use you. The messenger said that while you’re on good terms with the Baron you probably won’t reveal all your tricks lightly. They know we went on a mission together, and that you saved my life, so they want me to get close to you. Learn what makes you tick, what you think of them, where you come from, and what talents and spells you have. Everything.”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“How’d they know that we’re close?”

“Everyone talks, Sunday. The powers in this city are like wolves that snarl at each other until something more interesting appears. Then they move as one. In this case, you’re that interesting thing. A stranger, with unparalleled talents, strange ways, and of interest to the Divine. To them, you’re a treasure.”

“I see.”

It didn’t come out as a shock. Sunday knew better than to trust anyone with intentions that looked too good to be true. His very nature as an enemy to the Divine made him an asset and had earned him all he had in a very short time, but it was also a curse that left him confused and made everyone try to scheme and prod at him. He needed more answers. Better guidance.

“Is Mera in on it too?” Sunday asked. He was not afraid of the answer, although it would probably hurt.

“Mera?”

“The Mesmer.”

“They… Mom has mentioned her. I don’t think so. They don’t want to make her angry, but she’s also not someone they fear all that much. The Arcanum has depths we can’t imagine, and the three Adepts, along with the Baron and the Council-funded magi are more than enough for anything that comes to this city. The missions we go on, the monster hunts and clears, the raids on worshippers… it’s all for show and to grow a new generation of servants. No one can be trusted. Not even my mom… I refuse to betray my friends even for her.”

Good girl.

Elora looked down as she spoke, and Sunday was surprised to find a tear streaking down her face. The girl was smart, and what she was giving him right now was better than all the confusion and little tidbits he had gotten over the last couple of weeks.

“Isn’t that great though?” Sunday asked with a smile. He plopped down next to Elora and she looked at him with puzzlement. “Ah, I knew I couldn’t trust those bloodsucking slave-having motherfuckers. I had a great time beating them up and was quite disappointed with how things ended. I’ll certainly make use of the Baron for a while longer though. Squeeze him dry, you know? Ha!”

“Are you not sad? Do you not feel betrayed?”

“Betrayed? Please. They gave me spells, arts—” Although not of their own volition. At least I don’t have to feel guilty if consciousness suddenly finds me. Ha! He hugged the scrolls in his clothes tighter. “—gold, and a lot of other things. Hell, the Baron even gifted me a brewery after I tried to commit mass murder against his kin! How funny is that?”

He leaned closer and ignored the floral scent that washed over him.

“And what have I given them so far, apart from my good looks and wit? Nothing! Tell me, isn’t that a good deal?”

Elora stared, then chuckled and shook her head. “So you admit you’re as special as they think?”

“Probably more, but don’t tell anyone.”

Elora nodded. “I’d rather die than help them. My mom is a member of the Council and she’s always sucked up to all those rich leeches. Becoming a mage was my out from arranged marriages and being sold like a breeding cow. It’s delayed the inevitable at least, I guess. She aimed too high so things have settled down now.”

That must suck. No one is ever telling who I’m bringing between the sheets!

“Say, is it fine that I’m still here?” Sunday asked. He really wanted to jump that balcony and disappear into the… day. Come to think of it, it was about noon right now. Not very poetic.

“Not at all,” Elora said. She stood up and opened the door of the closet, then gestured to Sunday to follow. “There’s a black market in a few days. Let’s go together since we missed the last one. We have a lot to talk about and… I still haven’t thanked you. I don’t remember what happened, but I know that you saved me.”

You were in danger only because of me in the first place. “Don’t mention it. It’s what friends do.”

“Friends… Alright! Oh, another thing. There’s news that there might be a massive task force heading for the swamp areas near the Spine. The ghouls are acting up and coming down in greater and greater numbers, and some are even worried about a horde. The night guard is acting up too. No one knows what can enrage them like this, but it might have something to do with the Divine, so…”

A ghoul horde? That wasn’t anything good. He had a Prophet to find, almost no one to trust but a few humans and a crazy wight, and shopping to plan.

“You’ll be going?”

Elora nodded. “Fighting evil is what I want to do, and there’s no greater evil than them.”

Ah, fuck.

“I’ll think about it. I have a lot to consider. See you in a few days though?”

“For sure,” Elora said.

Does she need help with anything? No, I should push now. In time.

Sunday let Elora scout the balcony first, before following her. Her room was on the second floor, but the high ceilings and way of construction made it seem more than that. Sunday still believed he didn’t need his spells to make it though, so after one last smile toward Elora, he jumped while aiming to land behind a rose bush.

He felt his feet hit the ground and didn’t manage to keep his balance. Something cracked, but there was only surface pain. Just to be safe he summoned a moth and cursed as the bush he had fallen into started quickly wilting as the essence wafter over it. He summoned a second moth, but the damage was already done. Still, the plant livened up somehow.

What followed was a pretty easy and uneventful sneaking out of the manor’s ground. High fences didn’t seem to be very popular among the nobility in Blumwin, thankfully.

After some more sneaking about, Sunday found himself on the streets of Blumwin. This part of the city was quite fancier than the rest, as mansions stretched around him and the road was as clean and littered with flowers as he imagined the road to hell would be.

It had been a productive morning thanks to the weird Truth who might as well have been a figment of his imagination or something, and his talent which had somehow led him to Elora. Sunday was very happy Chaotic Step had activated due to his own will.

He was not very happy about the lack of control, but it was an improvement. The ability to traverse space as he wished and go anywhere was insane, and it was only natural for it to come with some difficulties. All he needed was to figure out why it had let him to Elora, and how it had activated.

He reached the Wayward Rat a few hours of walking later and immediately headed for the cellars, where he found Riya.

“Hey, can I ask you to do something for me?” Sunday asked with a smile.

“Oh, so you’re not avoiding me anymore? What is the occasion?” the undead barkeep raised an eyebrow. She was reading from a scroll, but Sunday only glanced at it before taking out two of the arts he had stolen – ‘Materialization, Shaping, Permanence’ and ‘Purity of the Stargazer’.

He smiled his most charming smile as Riya’s eyes widened.

“Can you make copies of these? I’ll need them soon. Please?”

He needed some way to fun of his upcoming shopping trip, after all.