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The Cult
In which our hero consolidates his position.

In which our hero consolidates his position.

“Well, this seems like a convenient enough place.” Ella proclaimed, looking around at the cave they had made home. “Running water, wide rooms, good insulation. It's practically a home already. I see you've started a fire pit already too. So where am I sleeping then? I've had a rough day.” She certainly seemed like it, and Edward wasn't going to argue, so he showed her to the alcoves where he had set up his bed.

“If you want to curl up in one of these, that'll have to do for the moment. I'm afraid you’ll have to steal your own bedding if you want to be comfortable. I worked hard for this.” She tensed a little but seemed to appreciate his reasoning.

“This’ll do, but in that case, do you mind if I wash first? It'll help me get comfortable.” She said, heading towards the water.

“Stop! That's the drinking water. I've got another cave a little way up as a bathhouse. This map should lead you there. Just count the number of caves on the left side from here. The smaller pool is for washing clothes, but I haven't got any spares other than my daytime clothes, so I would advise against that for now.” He managed to stop her just before she started undressing, and she looked a little embarrassed and glad that he did, turning around and following the map out of the cave. He decided to go to sleep now, and bathe when he woke up so he could be appropriate for visiting the city for supplies, thinking that it would have been two days since he'd stolen from the guards, so it would be okay to go out during the daytime. When he woke, however, he realised that this was not a clever idea. He had discussed it with Ella, and she reminded him that it was only the next day, not two days past, and even if it were, it would still be fresh in the minds of everyone. She instead advised that they wait until nightfall before going out and that she would focus on luxuries while he got the essentials. In other words, she would steal herself a bed, while he got to work on scavenging food.

Their expedition went moderately well, as Ella found herself a goose feather bedroll, and Edward was able to put together just enough food to serve two a single meal. While Edward was cooking the meal, Ella took a new set of clothes she'd obtained and got changed in the bedroom. When he was finished, Edward brought the stew into the bedroom, making sure to call out and check it was okay. When he laid his eyes on her, he was rather shocked.

“Well, those clothes certainly... Make an impression. I can't tell if you stole them from the Empress or a whore.” He almost dropped his plate. They were golden silk and red velvet, woven by the finest craftspeople into a style that was incredibly revealing, essentially covering each important part with just enough fabric, and nothing more. Her seductively curled brown hair hung over her left shoulder and her green eyes shone brightly with mirth, reflecting so much more than the hint of a smile on her red lips. He had to admit, the clothes suited her very well, but it was a little too distracting. She seemed to notice the same thing and dropped back into a more guarded expression.

“I'll take that as a compliment, as will I the way you are staring at me, but only because I've had a good day.” She scolded him. “Now, are you going to give me my food, or just hog it all to yourself?” Her eyes were dangerous yet jolly, telling him not to make any more from it. He silently handed her a plate and tried to keep his eyes on the food as they ate.

“So, little apprentice, we can start your first lesson tomorrow.” She started a conversation, just to be rid of the awkward silence. “If you at least knew the basics, it would be a lot easier, but I guess you don't even know how to pick locks or move stealthily, right?” He nodded meekly in agreement. “That’s the first thing we should go over then. I will go and get some picks, and we can start looking at the theory.” She sat down her plate and spoon, having subtly licked it clean, and disappeared into the main room.

Ella went over the recent events in her head as her arms subconsciously searched her bag, which enveloped her up to the shoulder. She had started the day the same as any other. A burly man had kicked her off the steps to his establishment with some force, then she’d had run away from a slightly thinner man who owned the stall she had taken her lunch from, and shortly after she had arrived to mourn her old teacher. Then, her friends had encouraged her to steal from the theatre as part of their big plan to make it rich. From there, she had gone very quickly from little more than a grown street urchin to an accomplished thief living in some small form of luxury. A girlish smile spread across her lips as she thought of the effect her ‘Little Apprentice’ had imposed on her. A little pink touched her cheeks as she realised what they could become if fate had its way (which, she thought, it often did). Both the smile and the blush faded instantly as her arms emerged from the bag, holding a set of picks and a couple of small padlocks. Striding into the room that Edward was currently eating in, she began laying out her tools in front of him.

“You eat quickly, especially for a woman.” He said. Ella wasn’t quite certain whether he was joking with her, or was genuinely surprised.

“You should see some of the Housedoor guys. Any crumb they can get their hands on disappears in a flash and puff of smoke.” Edward appeared to realise that maybe talking about food was not the most tactful decision.

“Housedoor? I haven’t heard that description before.”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“It’s what we call those of us who have the worst luck. They can never find a comfortable storefront to sleep in, so they end up sleeping outside the doors of peoples’ houses instead. Many of them have been poor for a long time, and can’t sleep storefronts because everyone knows them.” Ella recollected the things she had learned fairly early on. Her mentor had said time and time again:

“Pity the Housedoors, for they have been neglected by Fate. Pity the houses who shelter them, for they will have been affected by the curse also.”

Ella had not really understood entirely what he had meant, but she knew one thing for certain. Being a Storefronter like herself was at least a thousand times better than the lives of those Housedoors. She had made friends with a handful, but only in order to avoid their fate. They were truly repugnant creatures who lived only on the compost of others. Their luck was so down that they could not even pinch a loaf of bread from a child, even if they had the energy. She shivered with the memories.

“Right, lock picking… Every lock has a different number of ‘pins’ that are pushed in when the key turns. In order to open a lock without a key, you have to simulate this effect. Using the pick, you feel for and push down each pin while turning the lock with the wrench.” She showed him a larger tool in the picking set. “The lock will turn slightly when each pin is released, and when all of them are dealt with, it will turn fully, opening the door.” She quickly performed this process, and the mini padlock fell open. “It can be difficult at first, but with practice, you should be able to open any lock. Now, onto silent movement, and I’ll test you on lock picking after. The key to silent movement lies in careful foot placement. Each step should start close to the ground and touch down on a small surface area. In grass, it helps to ‘sweep’ the foot in order to pad out the step with a bed of grass. When running, keep on the balls of your feet or on your toes. When moving over land with no cover, try to move with the shadows of nature, or keep low. There’s not much more I can teach you without actually showing you, so when you’ve finished eating, I’ll test you on lock picking.” Edward mumbled his agreement through a mouthful of stew, wiping the resulting spittle from his clothes. “Eww, that’s gross. If you’ve got your mouth full, just a nod would do.” She grinned to herself while he stuffed his face, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Edward placed his cutlery down and picked up the tools, finding both the larger “wrench” and the smaller “pick”. Inserting them both into the lock, he attempted to turn the lock and move the pins. After a few seconds, he put them back down again, defeated.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t expect you to be able to open the lock, but you have demonstrated that you understood my lesson well,” Ella reassured him. “I’ll leave those with you for the time being for practice. It’s actually a fairly difficult lock. Not a very well designed one, it’s old as all hell, but that makes it rusty and a nightmare to work with. Just get the first two pins down though, and it’ll break itself open.” Edward thanked her and inquired about silent movement. “Yes, if you have the right technique, it is very easy to move quickly without being detected. As much of it is – indeed – acting, as anything else – if you walk in the manner of someone who isn’t out of place in your current location, most people will not take any notice, especially in the military. The fastest and most efficient form of running is also extremely quiet since no energy is put into waste noise.” Edward nodded.

“So, when and where can I practice movement? I doubt it would be a good idea to practice on the job for the first time.” He noted. Ella smiled at him.

“Well, you managed pretty well without it, so you may have noticed that people around here are not particularly attentive. Having said that, the people who matter to you probably are, so I won’t allow you to do anything too risky without mastering it first.” Edward picked up the lock and tools and started absent-mindedly wiggling away, enjoying the simple but complicated process. Ella simply admired him from her seat. At one point, he got especially frustrated and jerked hard on both the wrench and the pick, snapping the pick and slicing his finger open. Ella moved to help, but as he lifted it from his mouth, having cleaned the blood, they both observed that there was no actual wound.

“That’s strange… There was definitely blood… But no cut?” Ella examined the finger closely and saw a thin white line quickly disappear. Edward pulled his finger back as if she’d bit him. She may have been about to, judging by the look in her eyes.

“Now that I think about it, things like this have happened a lot, I’ve just never noticed. I’ve cut myself on my dagger before, but I was in such a hurry that I completely ignored it, and it had healed by the time I noticed. I guess something about my blood heals quickly or something?” He said dismissively, although still plainly worried by Ella’s behaviour. She sat back, amused now the heated moment was over.

“Well, I don’t know much about this, but some of the older Housedoors mentioned something similar that was tied to their religion. I myself was brought up completely separate from all that stuff, so I just avoided talking about it.” Ella resumed her old pointed smile, and Edward relaxed a little.

“You’ll have to introduce me to these ‘Housedoors’ sometime. They seem like wise people.” He assumed a smile of his own, this one much more awkward. She carried on grinning happily.

“It would be my pleasure, but be warned: they do not take kindly to cleanliness.” Her smile was now reaching a certain feline level of size. “We’ll leave for their abode tomorrow, to give us each a chance to dirty up a bit. In fact, this can be your first lesson in act walking.” She walked out and started washing both herself and her old clothes in the dirt outside the caves. Edward, seeing the clothes she took with her, sat in his bed, not knowing what she was doing, but assuming it meant she would be nude for a time. He thought to himself about the behaviour she had displayed earlier and how much she scared him when he didn’t know what she was thinking, which was pretty much all of the time. She returned a few minutes later, caked in mud from head to toe.

“Your turn then.” She grinned. When he asked what she expected him to do, she explained that he should cover himself in dirt and grime in the same way, so that it could have a chance to dry on and look authentic by the next day.