Finally, Payten and his master had been traveling for a little under two weeks and had just arrived at their destination, the mining town of Leeside. Payten was excited he would get to spend the night somewhere other than the forest and eat something that hadn't been preserved.
“Do you remember our cover, lad?” his master asked
“You are Andrea, my uncle who owns a bookbinders in Longdale. I am Kirk, your nephew who is accompanying you to become an apprentice at your store” How could he forget, his master had spent the morning drilling the story into Payten’s head.
“Very good, lad. Avoid talking to anyone as much as you can and stick close to me.”
Leeside was encircled by a rough wooden wall, they approached the entrance to the town and came face to face with a bored-looking guard.
“State your business”
Payten couldn't help but hold his breath, the anxiety of being found out crept into his body.
“We are passing through to Longdale.”
“How long do you plan to stay?”
“Just the night.”
“Alright, you're good to enter.” With that, the guard slammed his fist against the wooden door three times. The sound of a bolt being moved came from the other side as the door swung open. A second guard waved them through.
Payten breathed, feeling relief and a sense of anti-climax, he had expected to be ruthlessly questioned by a hard-nosed guard. Instead, they were waved through with minimal fuss.
So many people.
His first sight of Leeside ripped Payten from his disappointment as he was overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people present in Leeside. It was by most accounts a dirty, middle-sized town but to Payten who had never left his small village, it may as well have been the capital. Shops and houses filled the roads as the townspeople went about their daily business, Payten took in the mingling smells of the town as he watched the people and their animals as they shuffled about. He started to focus more and more on the living beings that filled the town, studying their Vitus.
As his mana sense sharpened he was able to take in more and more of the mana that flowed through this place. Life saturated this town filling its streets like blood in a vein, he focused in on one old man who had bent over and started coughing, the Vitus in his lungs took on a different hue for just a moment but the old man recovered and kept walking before Payten could properly examine what he had just seen. He made a mental note to write this down and ask Hark about it later.
He snapped out of his study and decided it was for the best if he avoided any form of magic in the town, after all, Payten had no idea what the witch hunters were able to detect.
He followed Hark as he weaved through the streets, Payten had gotten too far from his master and was beginning to feel ill, he was not used to crowds, the feeling of life around him violated his senses. He was battered through the crowd like he was passing through the rapids as he struggled to keep up with his master.
Thankfully, Hark started to move out of the throng of people and towards one of the shops on the side of the road. Payten ejected himself from the stream of life and sucked in the air, he had decided he was not a fan of crowds.
“Let's go, lad. We have lots of shopping to do.”
***
Payten was taken aback by the generosity of his master, Hark had purchased everything a traveler could need. New shoes made for traveling, a proper bag to replace his bindle, new clothes to replace his one set of filthy hand me downs and a series of odds and ends that one could use on the road. He had only been with his master for a fortnight and through a combination of looting and shopping, Payten was worth more than his whole family combined. Hark wouldn't even accept his thanks, saying that it was the proper thing to do when considering Payten’s background.
Humming pleasantly to himself, Payten walked behind Hark as he ducked down a side road. He was pleased to see that there were much fewer people down this way. Hark stopped in front of a building with a sign that depicted a strange-looking fish being reeled in by a hook, The Seahorse and the Angler was painted on under the image.
“Wait here for a moment, lad,” Hark said as he entered the building.
Payten left to his own devices, started to look around the street, what immediately drew his attention were the sets of stalls selling all sorts of different products. Payten badly wanted to go and examine these merchants and their wares, but Hark had given him an order and Payten feared upsetting the man, he seemed to be kind and soft-spoken but he remembered how quickly he had killed those goblins. If Payten angered the man would he do the same to him, or maybe Hark would just abandon him. Payten suddenly grew very anxious as he realized his future relied totally on the whims of a necromancer he had known for less than a month.
“Come on, lad” Payten’s train of thought was interrupted by Hark opening the door and waving him in.
As soon as Payten stepped inside he greeted with pleasant smells, a nice warmth emanating from a hearth in the center of the room, and the pleasant chatter of conversion. He saw various groups of people huddled around tables, some played cards, others ate and drank. Payten drank in this warm atmosphere, enjoying the trappings of civilization for the first time in what felt like forever.
A bald rotund man waved them over from behind a counter.
“Supper will be ready in about two hours and your rooms are ready mister Andrea.” said the innkeep
“Thank you, Craig” replied Hark as he walked towards the stairs beckoning for Payton to follow him. Payten nodded politely to Craig and took off after his master.
“Your room is last on the right, lad. Mines the one next to it.”
“I get a whole room to myself?” Payten asked in disbelief, his whole life he had lived in a room crammed with his cousins, the very idea of his own space made him want to scream with joy.
“Yes, lad, Here's the key. Now I have businesses to attend to, you’re free to do as you wish until I return. Just make sure you're back here before supper.” Hark said, waving Payten away with his hand.
Payten smiled, today was shaping up to the best day of his life. He had been given clothes finer than he had ever seen, a room to himself and to top it all off he had been given time to explore, and to think it was all because of a highly dangerous practitioner of the dark arts.
Payten did the only thing he could think of
“Thank you master, for everything.”
Hark smiled.
***
With his master gone, Payten immediately set about slacking off. He first entered his room and flopped down on his bed, it was the comfiest thing Payten had ever experienced. He laid for a moment and just basked and the peace and warmth that seemed to envelop him.
Don’t sleep!
Payten shot up, he had almost dozed off. He had a limited amount of time to see the city and he did not plan to waste it napping. Hopping out of bed Payten grabbed his knife and coin purse and prepared to hit the town. He strolled down the stairs, gave Craig a wave, and stepped out onto the street.
He knew his target immediately, the market stalls he had seen down the street early. “Spare some change?” an old beggar asked, Payten may have been a village boy but he knew the dangers of showing any amount of cash in a public area, plus he was a necromancer’s apprentice; a student of the vilest arts. Why did he care about a dirty old beggar? Still, Payten knew what it meant to be powerless.
He reached into his pocket and flipped the man a copper.
“Bless ya’, Sir.” the beggar responded as he snatched the coin from the air as Payten walked on.
***
Payten had been stalking through the market like a predatory cat prowling for things of interest. Three stalls had caught his eye, one sold books, another sold herbs, and the third sold sweets. Payten was walking towards the bookseller when a thought popped into his head. How do you actually buy something? He of course understood the theory, you trade precious bits of metal in exchange for goods and services, but in practice, he had never bought anything in his life. How do you know the price? What if they try to scam me? Doubts bubbled in Payten’s head as he walked towards the stall. Don't be ridiculous it's easy to buy something he scolded himself as he prepared to face the bookseller. At the last moment he pivoted towards the sweets vendor, at least they have the prices on a sign.
Payten studied the sign on the stall for a moment before marching over and with all the bravado he could manage slammed two coopers on the vendor’s stall.
“One honey cake please,” Payten said, trying to project an air of confidence.
“Of course, sir” The man behind the counter seemed amused at the strange boy in front of him as he passed him the sweet.
“Thank you,” Payten said as he took the honey cake and dashed away. That wasn't so hard after all. Payten breathed a sigh of relief, though he may have seemed like a hardened consumer who had bought a thousand honey cakes and would buy thousands more, on the inside Pate was gripped with the fear that he would bungle the encounter and make a fool of himself. Now filled with confidence he returned to the bookseller.
“ ‘ello, son, ya’ fancy buying one of old Jared’s second-hand books?” The book vendor's sudden exclamation caught Payten off guard. From a distance, the man had seemed half-dead, slumped over in his chair listlessly staring off into space, but the moment Payten had approached the man sprung to life, talking loudly and gesturing wildly with his hands.
“Yes, sir” Payten said, not exactly sure how to respond to the strange man.
“Don’t call me sir it makes me feel old, just plan Jared will do fine.” Payten’s limited social skill were being pushed to their absolute limit as he tried to handle the old man
“Here's a tip, son, it’s rude to get a name and not give one back”
“Ah… it’s Kirk.” Payten responded, his newly gained confidence in the art of commerce was being eroded every time Jared opened his mouth.
“Well, Kirk, what can old Jared get ya’, a book to help you woo the women of your dreams, a bloody tale of bandits and knights” spit flew from Jared’s mouth as he aggressively hawked his wares.
“No, nothing like that,” Payten responded, now completely aware that he was in over his head, he was no match for Jared the bookseller.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“Ahhhhh I see, I know you young men always looking for something more steamy, something that would make your mother faint.” The old man shot Payten a conspiratorial wink.
“N..no nothing like that I would just like to browse,” Payten said weakly
“Ahhh you're a smart one Kirk, one who likes to see the options before making a choice. Well, help yourself.” Jared gestured towards his collection inviting Pate to take a look.
Payten nodded politely and began to search through the pile of used books. He had always had a fascination with books. A repository of knowledge and experience that existed above the human condition like tiny paper gods. A book was in many ways the best parts of their creators, it was what they deemed worthy enough to spread to the world. Before Hark, Payten had long given up on the hope that literature had promised him, blocked by the scourges of illiteracy and poverty. He examined every book carefully, weighing the pros and cons of each purchase, occasionally answering one of Jared’s questions.
***
After sorting through Jared’s books and considering his budget, Payten had decided on only two books: Herbology In Orera, and beginners guide to human anatomy. He paid Jared a silver coin for both and bid the man goodbye. As he turned to continue exploring he couldn't shake a nagging feeling of forgetting something.
What time is it?
Payten ran towards the inn, he had lost track of time. He had no idea how long he had spent at Jared’s stall, but he prayed to Yaza that he would make it in time. He tore down the street and burst into the inn, his chest puffing with exertion.
“ How long until supper, Craig?” Payten practically shouted at the innkeep.
“Hold your horses, it will be ready in less than minutes” Craig responded, with a hint of irritation in his voice
Payten shot him a double thumbs-up, “Thanks Craig”
Craig just shook his head and returned to his duties.
“You're cutting it close, lad.” A familiar voice said behind him
“But I made it in time,” Payten said enthusiastically.
“Yes, now let's sit down and eat, we have lots of ground to cover tomorrow,” Hark said taking a seat at a nearby table.
Payten joined him, smiling to himself.
***
Payten had only been walking with Hark for half a day and he already missed the warm comforts of a hot meal and a soft bed, though the resuming of his instruction did help blunt the pain of traveling through the wild. Despite his reluctance to return to travel, Payten was in a fantastic mood, He had greatly enjoyed his time spent in Leeside, from the charming atmosphere of The Seahorse and the Angler to the market stalls that taught him all he knew about commerce, he decided that he would have to visit again even though the townspeople were strang. Or maybe that was just Jared, Payten’s mind wandered to the books he had purchased, the guide to human anatomy proved to be above Payten’s current skill as it assumed a basis of knowledge that he lacked, the book on herbology, however, was proving to be much more useful. Still, he regarded both as a wise purchase, when had shown them to Hark the man had praised him, saying that initiative and the ability to self-study were invaluable tools in a mage. Even though his master seemed to have Payten’s interests in mind, he still couldn't bring himself to trust the necromancer. Maybe he could find out more about his master’s plans?
“Where will we go after we leave Orera?”
“I have chartered a ship to take us from Eastport to the arctic isles of Vermeuse, which falls within the territory of the Autonomous Arcane collective,” Hark replied
“What is the Autonomous Arcane collective?” Payten asked, wishing his master would just tell him what he wanted to know without requiring Payten to ask every conceivable question.
“An interesting question with a long answer, lad. But for now, I’ll give you the gist” Hark said with a hint of mirth in his voice. “It all starts with mage guilds, organizations of magic users who pool resources and knowledge. A majority of these guilds were independently founded, by mages for mages. Soon the powers of the worlds began to grow interested in these bastions of knowledge and sought to control or restrict them, sometimes even creating government-funded alternatives. Many of the high-level guild members chafed under the new restrictions placed on them, so the three most powerful independently-minded guilds called for a gathering of all guild mages and declared independence, inviting with them anyone who wished to join. Thus the Autonomous Arcane collective was created and the war of mage independence started.” Hark spoke in a way that mesmerized Payten, forcing him to listen intently to his master’s words
“But that's enough history, Lad. You asked what it is not where it came from.” Payten was a little disappointed he wanted to hear more about the war of mage independence but he supposed that it was more valuable to learn about the current state of his future home.
“The Arcane Collective is an interesting mix between a guild and a government as it has characteristics of both. They are led by an elected council of seven mages from different interest groups called orders, these orders oversee the collection of guild fees and decide what these fees should be spent on. The territory they control are areas of land that are uninhabitable without the heavy use of magic such as tundras or deserts, this often means that those who are not powerful in the magic arts must live in one of the enclaves established by a high ranking member of the guild.” Hark finished his brief rundown on the Autonomous Arcane collective, still, Payten had one burning question on his mind.
“Will they accept my talents?”
Hark hesitated for the briefest of moments before answering “I will not sugarcoat this, lad. Necromancy is not illegal, nor are any of the so-called forbidden magics. But prejudice is strong, even among the more open-minded Necromancy is still regarded with distrust and suspicion.”
“Why do people hate necromancy so much?” Payten asked, trying to suppress the rising feeling of anticipated rejection.
“A magic is labeled forbidden within a society usually for one of three reasons, it’s dangerous to a practitioner and those around them, it's easy to abuse, or it goes against what the tyrant gods have declared the natural order. Necromancy breaks all three of these rules and as such it’s near-universally restricted ” Hark said, Payten couldn’t help but notice Hark’s knuckles turning white with the mention of whatever the tyrant gods were.
“What are the tyrant gods?” Payten asked, hoping that he could learn more about his master.
“Something for another time, lad,” Hark said dismissively
Payten was not bothered by Hark's refusal to answer his question. He had something much larger on his mind. He hung his head, based on what Hark had just told him Payten would always be an outcast, doomed to be treated with fear due to his talents.
***
Hark raised his hand, gesturing for Payten to stop and be silent. Payten obeyed as his master shut his eyes, they stood there for a moment master and apprentice both frozen in silence. Hark’s mouth dipped into a deep frown before he opened his eyes.
He grabbed Payten by the shoulder and bent down to eye level with the young boy.
“Listen carefully, lad. There are armed members of the church approaching us as we speak, remember your cover and agree with what I say, I will try to use deception in the stead of violence but I make no promises this will not end in bloodshed, so make sure you stand behind me. Do you understand, Payten?” said Hark with a calmness Payten envied.
He swallowed hard, a mage needed an iron mind and he had accepted the possibility of being hunted by the church the moment he agreed to be Hark’s apprentice, he could not let fear control him, he needed to be brave. Payten clutched the knife his uncle had given him.
“Yes, master,” He said, putting all the bravery he could muster into his words.
“Good, lad” Hark said giving his shoulder a squeeze before standing up
“Well, they're coming to see us the least we could do is meet them halfway,” Hark said before continuing to walk down the path.
The thought of running crossed Payten’s mind, he could tell them what Hark was, they would surely have to show him mercy then. But can I give this up? The thought of no longer being able to learn from Hark made Payten’s heart twang with sorrow.
He did his best to push down his cowardice and followed his master.
***
Fifteen minutes was all it took for Payten and his master to come face to face with a squad of six armed men adorned with symbols of Yaza. They were led by a massive old man in heavy armor, he had a very imposing hammer slung across his back. Payten did his best not to look nervous as the man in charge stepped forward and bellowed:
“Hail, citizens. The roads are not safe a nasty infestation of goblins has taken root around this area. For your own protection I must insist that you accompany us”
Payten’s anxiety dropped considerably, they were not here to murder him and his master but to keep them safe from the goblins.
“Noble Sir, I thank you for your generous offer, I already feel safer knowing that the situation is in such capable hands. Unfortunately, I must decline. I have left my businesses unattended for too long already and I must hurry back with haste” responded Hark as he bowed politely.
Payten was well versed in the subtle language of suspicion, which is why his heart jumped when Hark started speaking, the leader of the squad had instantly picked up on Hark’s foreign accent. The man’s suspicion was only increased when Hark had refused his offer of protection. Payten did his best to stop himself from panicking, knowing that it would only add fuel to the rising tension.
“Do you have your identification paper, foreigner?” the man asked as he studied them warily.
“Of course, sir” Hark reached into his bag and produced a sheet of paper which he handed to the man.
“And the boy” The man’s gaze settled on Payten, he had to stop himself from running from the intensity of the Glare.
“He’s my nephew by bond, he’s completely Orerain both legally and ethnically” Hark responded
The man studied Hark’s paper carefully.
“I see Mister Andrea, I don’t suppose you would have any complaints being subject to the rite of honesty would you?” Payten could see in the man’s eyes that this was his trump card, whatever happened next would determine the outcome.
“Not at all, sir,” Said Hark as he extended his arm towards the man.
“Dante, come administer the rite to Mister Andrea” The intimidating old man barked
Payten had a very bad feeling about this ‘rite of honesty’
A short man in light armor wielding a staff, who Payten assumed to be Dante, approached Hark. Dante extended his hand to touch Hark.
Payten held his breath
When Dante’s hand was centimeters from Hark’s left forearm Payten saw a jet black dagger that resembled the curved fang of a great beast more than any man-made weapon materialized in Hark’s right hand. His master slashed the short man across the chest, causing a cry of pain and a spray of crimson as Dante fell to the ground. Hark barked a word Payten did not understand and a wave of force shot from his outstretched left hand. The air made a loud crack as force tore through it causing it to distort before slamming into the leader’s chest. The old man was knocked into the air and pushed back a considerable distance.
Payten did his best not to panic as he surveyed the quickly escalating situation. Dante was sprawled on the ground, the armor around his wound was rusting as black bile leaked from his chest, the veins on his neck where shifting color as putrid blackness worked its way through his system. The old man was down but not out as Payten could see him struggling to return to his feet. The other four combatants were struck dumb by the suddenness of Hark’s attack and had not yet started to react.
“Btar” Hark chanted once again pointing his walking stick at the two on the right, they immediately started to cough and clutch their chest.
Confident that his master had the right side handled Payten turned his attention to the two on the left. One had drawn his sword the other was chanting with his staff raised in the air as light began to condense around him. Payten racked his brain, he had a bad feeling about the man with the staff but what was he supposed to do, he knew no combat spells and while he was large and strong for a child he was no match for a trained warrior. An idea popped into his head as he scooped up a stone from the ground and threw it at the caster.
Sure enough, his aim was true and the stone crashed into the caster’s mouth interpreting his chant and making the light fizzle away. He felt a jolt of pride in knowing he contributed at least a little.
Hark having finished with the right side, swept his hand towards the remaining two warriors. A thick black sludge shot from his hand and coated the warriors, they screamed as smoke raised from their dissolving bodies, one frantically tried to wipe off the acid that clung to his armor with his hand however, the moment he touched the black sludge he found that it had bonded to his hand like adhesive trapping it within the horrible acid that was eating through his armor and flesh.
All that was left was the old man, he had stood back up, his body was covered in a blinding white light, his eyes glew with a ferocity that shook Payten to the core, his armor and warhammer pulsed with energy illuminating a network of runes that covered every inch of his equipment.
Payten swallowed hard, he hoped Hark could handle the old man.
Hark raised his hand high in the air, green fire started to form in the man’s hand. Pooling into a ball made of strange interlocking rings that rapidly moved. The old man charged at a speed he would have thought impossible for a man of his age. Hark dropped his hand and the green ball shot forward, making a terrifying screeching noise as it traveled. The old man swung his warhammer connecting with the projectile causing it to explode, the area was engulfed in a foul-smelling green flame. Payten was sure that no one could survive an inferno like that, which is why he almost swallowed his tongue when he saw the old man continue his charge seemingly unhindered.
The old man raised his hammer and crouched down and prepared to leap as the light that surrounded him started to condense near his feet. Hark quickly responded by raising his staff and chanting words at a remarkable pace. Payten hid further behind his master, praying that he would finish his spell before the old man.
Thankfully, his prayer was answered when a mass of the black sludge that Hark had used earlier appeared above his opponent’s head, quickly dropping on him. Payten watched closely as the man grunted in pain, there was something different about Hark’s attack this time, the acid seemed … alive. it moved of its own free will, seeking out gaps in the man’s armor and extending outwards with slimy tendrils towards his limbs in an attempt to further bind him in the acidic glue. Hark wasted no time with his follow up attacks swiftly launching a large blood-red icicle from his right hand and a ball of darkness from his staff. The old man screamed and light shot out from him in an area, hurting Payten’s eyes. He blinked hard and he opened them to see that the intelligent slime had disappeared completely, Hark’s blood ice was knocked from the air by a swift swing of his hammer but the ball of shadows slammed into his chest, causing the runes on his armor to light up brightly and burst. His master’s attacks were clearly having an effect, the old man’s hammer seemed heavy in his hands, his once rapid charge was approaching something more reasonable for a man his age, still, the man was almost upon them and he doubted his master could beat such a monstrous man in a melee. Payten picked up another stone just in case.
He had seen a lot since he had agreed to be Hark’s apprentice, to say his tolerance for strangeness was at an all-time high would be a great understatement, still what he saw next stunned Payten and left him slack-jawed.
Hark once again fired off two attacks, another orb of darkness and a beam of green fire. The orb was batted aside with the warhammer but the beam struck center-mass, causing the man to stumble, and then Hark’s shadow stood up. Where it was once parallel with the ground the shadow now bent at a 90-degree angle causing it to stretch far above Hark’s head, the shadow stood twice Hark’s height, crowing it’s dark featureless face were two cracked horns, on its back two wings made of shadow spread out, its hands were massive, easily larger than Payten and tipped with razor-sharp claws. The shadow’s hand grabbed for the old man, its arm stretching like honey dripping from the side of a bottle. The man raised his hammer over his head to crush the shadow monster but Hark launched a beam of force from his hand that knocked the warhammer from the old man’s hand, sending it tumbling behind him. The shadow’s already massive hand grew even larger as it wrapped around the old man, it squeezed. The old man’s armor crumpled under the force as pulverized organ sprayed from his mouth.
The shadow quickly returned to where it belonged and the old man dropped on the floor. His empty eyes staring up to the heavens.
They had won.
“You did good, lad. Excellent job disrupting the caster. It is a shame that the situation escalated into violence, but it is common for priests of Yaza to be able to divine the truth by touching you. We would have been found out, either way, so seizing the initiative was the most advantageous course of action.” His master said, clapping the boy on the shoulder.
All Payten could do was nod his head. Truth be told he didn't know how to feel. He had just killed his countrymen in what amounted to ambush, yet what bothered him the most is that he wasn't bothered by their deaths. Well, it was true that he would have preferred them not to die, they would have tortured him and his master to death without mercy if they had truly known who they were. Plus it was because of people like them, zealots, that Payten had been outcasted, his life turned hellish.
“Lad there are more in a camp up ahead, their deaths will be noticed and more will come if I do not take action now.” His master said as he started to rummage around in his bag.
“You wait here and search the bodies for anything of value, I will clean up the loose ends” with that Hark pulled out a short black rod and turned to Payten.
“If I don't contact you within the hour, get to Longdale and find a man called Blastbiter, tell him what happened and he will take care of the rest.” with that Hark turned and walked down the path that the group had come from.
Payten groaned he felt sick, killing them was one thing but he had still not got over the idea of desecrating the dead, and the thought of Hark not returning worsened his already foul mood.
Still, there was work to be done and Payten intended to do it even if the thought made him want to vomit.
***
Just as Payten was counting the coins he had found among the now liquefied remains of Dante he heard a branch snapping, his head whipped up, and what he saw almost made him spit up his liver.
Two more soldiers had wandered down the road, one was a young man with a short sword, the other a young woman with a long sword.
Payten and the soldiers stood in silence staring at each other, none of them knowing what to do next.