Kali stepped behind the bar and sat on the floor next to Fahlnem, both of their backs facing the door. He was playing with the fire in the stove, fueling it with his mana and using it to radiate heat behind the bar. He turned to glance at her as she sat, quietly admiring her dead-pan cold expression. She didn't return the gaze, but she slid a bit closer to him and started lightly tapping her fist against his knee with increasing, but playful, force. He took the hint and drew his leg back closer to his torso, allowing her to slide in between his legs and lay the back of her head on his chest. He wrapped an arm around her and continued playing with the stovetop flame with the other, articulating little shapes with his fingers like one would with shadow puppets.
Fahlnem was the first to break the silence.
"I'm beginning to get conflicted thoughts about Argus."
"Why?" She inquired in a brief, bland statement. She had always been emotionless, almost cold, when speaking. He still liked that about her.
"Just what Ciron said, months ago, in King's Watch. And... what Argus did to Coribus- that Keeper Champion guy. What if I'm learning magic from a psychopath?
Kali mulled it over with a pensive humming noise for a few moments before replying. "He's probably more of a sociopath. He still has some regard for other people."
Fahlnem stopped playing with the fire and laid his head back to rest it on the bar cabinet behind him.
"I suppose so. Doesn't make me feel much better about it either way. Ciron and I have known each other for a really long time. We've been through a lot. And now he just feels like another enemy."
"He did try to kill you. Enemies usually do that, Fahlnem." He could tell that she had donned a grin on her face.
"Maybe not. In the sewers, he said it was supposed to be a warning, that he didn't mean for it to hit me." He rubbed his shoulder, where the knife had left a short scar. "What if I'm wrong for trusting Argus? I mean, even if I am wrong, what does it matter?"
Kali paused for another moment. "I don't know."
Fahlnem decided not to worry about it for the time being.
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The engine car as a whole was relatively spacious. It had basic restroom accommodations as well as a raised bunk with minimal cargo storage for the conductor. There was also a rickety chair that Fahlnem had been resting in until now, taking Vincent's place in tending to the steam engine by supplying it with sufficient mana to keep the fire roaring, which in turn boiled the water into steam that could be used for pressure. He had minor experience with things like that when he spent time in Quintaris, having even owned a smaller airship used for ferrying folks back and forth between his tavern and the main city of Seaguard.
"Vince. Get rid of this fucking headache, please." Fahlnem rubbed his temples as Vincent tended to the engine, adjusting knobs and dials that Fahlnem neither understood nor cared to examine at the time.
"There's a medicine box in the latrine cabinet." Vincent had to shout through the excessive sound of the train rolling along the tracks and the wind seeping in through the open door of the engine car as he toyed with the separation mechanism connecting the engine to the rest of the railcars, which were still on fire and heavily damaged. Vincent had suggested that they lose the ruined passenger cars, as they were worse than dead weight. Vincent cursed aloud in frustration, leaning back into the engine car to plead.
"If you use your magics to cut off the rest of the railcars, I could even help you look through the medicine box. There's no way you didn't get a couple of injuries from your fight with the Fourteenth."
Fahlnem shrugged. "It's not really all that fun to keep watching you fail over and over, so, sure. See what you can find, I'll handle the..." Fahlnem made broad hand gestures back at Vincent from his chair.
"Coupling. The technical term is 'coupling.'" Vincent let the sliding door close behind him as he stepped past Fahlnem to get into the latrine and search around.
Fahlnem got up from his chair and haphazardly made his way to the back of the engine car, sliding back the door with his left hand to stand in the doorway. He flushed mana into his right hand, heating up the air around it, before pressing his hand up against the bared coupling and radiating incredible levels of heat into it until he felt that it was sufficiently weak. He secreted Fire Dust from his fingertips onto the coupling and stepped back, allowing the door to close. He then remotely activated the volatile solidified mana, blowing the coupling to shards of metal and leaving the passenger cars to tumble and roll along the tracks in a chain of flaming debris.
"Found anything yet?" Fahlnem stepped over to the latrine and Vincent shrugged, eliciting a sigh from Fahlnem. He made his way back to his chair and took a seat. "Listen, if you could just bring the medicine box here and keep an eye out for Erumar, that'd be fine. I'll consider your life-debt to me fulfilled." Fahlnem pulled up his armor and the shirt underneath to examine the damage.
His torso had been inundated with vile bruises of impressive colors ranging from black and blue, purple, and yellow. He reached down to his left side, taking a painful deep breath and pressing his hand up against the large, bruised area. He immediately recoiled and gritted his teeth against the pain. Yeah. Broken. "How long until Erumar, anyway?" Fahlnem inquired as Vincent continued to rummage around the medicine box, re-gathering the items together so it was more presentable as a kit.
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"Should just be a few more hours."
"Unrelated question, but do you know what the punishment for abetting a 'warlock' as a Human is?"
Fahlnem couldn't see, but he assumed that Vincent shook his head. "No, not really."
Fahlnem pondered for a moment. "Listen, a friend in the Maw told me that the Bluntear rebellion is supposed to be pretty big in Erumar. I'm a mage, so they'll probably want to see me pretty soon once we get there. I can see about getting you someplace to stay under their protection, if you want to keep traveling with me for a bit."
Fahlnem didn't get a response, so he craned his head around. "Vince? You there?" After a few moments of impatience, Fahlnem re-affixed his armor back over his torso and stepped over to the latrine. "Vince?"
Vincent jumped out in front of Fahlnem from inside the latrine and thrust a dagger at his stomach. Fahlnem flinched and jumped back, showing a face of shock. Thankful for the strength of drake scales, he reflexively lifted up a palm to Vincent's chin and ejected a vortex of fire from his hand that enveloped Vincent's head, slowly melting it into goop over the course of a couple of seconds. Fahlnem reached in and grabbed the unopened medicine box while Vincent's body plummeted to the floor, slouching against the wall of the narrow compartment. After bitterly searching Vincent's body for spare Markes, he closed the door and returned to his seat to tend to his wounds in disappointed silence.
After some hours, Fahlnem spotted the boundaries of Erumar. He could see a sprawling, hideous cityscape hidden behind walls that kept out the poor farmers and the homeless. The darkening sky outlined fires that had erupted within the city walls. Piles of bodies had surfaced in the fields outside of the main gate, and a barricade of debris had formed around the train station entrance. What a fucking dump. Is this the rebellion's doing? Fahlnem frowned. He needed to get into the train station's checkpoint to find his stuff, but he was certain there would be another ambush waiting for him somewhere. Technically, the barricaded train station entrance tunnel was a good sign; but that also meant that he couldn't expect any Rites or Pale Spears in the most obvious ambush spot.
Fahlnem's eyes passed over the controls for the train, and he settled on pulling a long handle sticking out of the floor that he hoped was the brake. He wanted to enter the city with as much discretion as possible, which meant a long walk with a number of painful injuries, a broken rib amongst them. Ideally, the chaos within the city will mask my approach as well. Once the train screeched to a stop, he departed with a full knapsack of snacks and medical supplies for the short trip to the city's outskirts.
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"Alright, let's think about this logically, right? Bullet-points. Pros and cons." Fahlnem took another sip of Firebrand Rum before handing it back to Kali. "Argus may be evil."
Kali took a brief swig. "Con."
Fahlnem nodded pensively. "Yeah. Definitely con. But too broad to specify, right? Let's think about recent events, particular actions. I do know that the other week, a warg hunting party outside Timberton lit the forest on fire. I wasn't there, but apparently, Argus quelled the entire forest fire."
"Mh. Still won dishonorably against the Keeper man."
"Yeah. Not great. But he was technically defending himself, right?"
"Can't be confirmed." Kali took another swig and handed the rum back to Fahlnem.
"I think," Fahlnem took a sip. "I think I can keep training with him for now. Just until I get to Tier Five. I can cut him off after then, right? The power's worth it, I think."
"Already lost a friend, so you might as well keep going," Kali remarked coldly with a contradictive grin.
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Fahlnem approached the city entrance. He didn't have the energy or time to circle around for a less conspicuous passage into the city, and he had his cloak on, so he thought it was fair. The first thing he wanted was a drink- then he needed medical attention. At least for his rib. So he passed through the gap in the ajarred gate and began wandering the streets. Despite the smoke gathering in the sky, it seemed relatively business-as-usual. Elves wandered the streets drunken and abusive, and Humans picked up trash and began the walk home after a hard day's work. Fahlnem noticed a few outliers barring their doors or getting beat down by Rites in the streets, but he didn't concern them at the time being.
He paused. A building on the corner had Elven writing hanging over the street. Bar & Inn. Elves ONLY. Fahlnem quickly made his way over and stepped inside, lowering the hood on his cloak to expose his Elven features. There wasn't much business at the moment, which suited Fahlnem just fine, but he wondered about it. He also wondered if it was a terrible idea to be there, as the Magisterium likely saw it as a place he would absolutely go to. Just a glass of Elven wine, and I'm gone. I'll find somewhere safer to stay the night.
Stepping up to the bar, Fahlnem began to see a pattern with the Elves in this realm. They made their culture blatant and expressive, perhaps to contrast theirs plainly against that of the Humans. Unrestrained vines curled around wooden lattices along the walls, and painfully artificial roots dug into the ceiling to form arches and supports sprouting fake buds and twigs every few inches. It all felt fake. It was their way of combining virtue-signaling with gatekeeping around their culture. He ordered a drink anyway, and while he disapproved of the decor, he could have happily died with that glass of true Elven wine at that moment.
After spending far too long enjoying Elven wine, he bid farewell to the barkeep who spoke few words and made his way back into the street. He turned the corner and faced a wooden club that bashed his head into unconsciousness.