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The World of Arcadius
Chapter 2-4 Dread at Realization

Chapter 2-4 Dread at Realization

"Ma'am, we've search town. No wher—"

Arcadius flinched as a large thwack resounded against the harsh garbled voice, thick skin furiously bruised by the fist that came upon it.

"David, dare say that again," boomed a voice from under the iron mask.

"I sorry. Captain. Only Captain," said David as another fist slapped his face, never flinching. "Smugglers hired, not returned. No one, seen them return."

The black mask nursed her knuckles, "Well if someone had seen them they wouldn't be good smugglers."

"Hideout. Found, money."

Arcadius held his breath.

"Something must have occurred. I don't expect them to survive in that forest, not at night. But the Rejune.” She took a moment to brood. “Take some of the men on an expedition—"

"Hideout, different scent," interrupted David, a fist already prepared to slam into him. "Light Priestess, missing."

The mysterious ma'am lowered her hand and turned to David, the boulder of muscle.

"Of all days, we chose the worst. The fat man accompanying them; you need only poke him before he spews. But we wouldn't be here right now if that was the case," she crossed her arms and bowed her head, pondering; she no longer expects from the river. "Gather the men. We leave at first light. There are other places with Rejune and we just need to find out where they are as we did with this one. That Light Priestess, if she hasn't found us by now then it's only a matter of time."

"The scent, was male."

The black mask turned to David, "Then make someone else gather the men. Find this person, David, and make sure to wring out everything. And remember, there will be no trail."

And with that, David was out of sight, only the heavy creaking footsteps to signal his departure. The green cloak stared out, no longer at the river but at the fleeting moon scarce behind heavy clouds.

Arcadius looked at the figure for a moment. He then similarly stared at the distant moon and thought just how rotten his luck was. His days got progressively worse and worse. A sprinkle of happiness kept him going but he wants to be as far away as the moon is from him. He took a deep breath and lowered his head to meet Alison's pointing finger with his nose.

"They're talking about you, Ark" she whispered, a wicked smile on her lips. "Well, I'll make sure that man won't find you. At most, he can only search the town and if he goes into the woods, well, they grow more dangerous as we speak. But really, making me do all the work." Alison scolded him as she urged him to row.

Arcadius rowed the boat as he shook his head. He was of importance to Alison, he knew that, but every display of affection was overshadowed by his looming future. He took another glance at the moon and sighed. Even it is fixed in position, unable to refuse night after night. Just as he was unable to refuse her. It's the way things are. It was the price he had agreed to.

"What do you reckon, a mountain dwarf or a really short man? If he's a dwarf, I wonder what he did to become exiled from his home. And if he's a short man, I need to figure out who augmented his body to such lengths. Nasty piece of work." Alison's eyes widened. "Maybe he's Bay's spawn; the garbled voice, the heavy breaths, the nose of a canine. Really, disgusting."

Arcadius gave Alison a smile and nodded just as they reached the river’s mouth. Saint Pure was the name of the river, given by Lord Gleam shortly after the discovery of the fairy grove. It was to represent the cleanliness and purity of the town that Lord Gleam so strongly worked to achieve. But before the fairy grove was discovered, the town's prime commerce was elemental jewels. Precious rare rocks embroidered or filled with an element: little jewel bracelets held together by shifting wind, a translucent pearl filled with lightning, golden necklaces tinged with flames, belts made of sparkling colorful rocks, rings emitting water, the list went on.

Elemental jewels created the town and allowed for prosperity in the Gleam family. However, rocks could not hold the elements on their own. It was the Gleam's concoction that did the trick; brush it over a jewel and the elements could be imbued. But the concoction left toxic and acidic waste when made and that went into the river. Over time, the river became no more than a green gloomy thick pollution that oozed out into the larger body of water. It reeked, a strong smell that made the nose burn and itch and kept any sane person away from its bank. It wasn't until the 6th Gleam, Adfinis Gleam, that efforts were made to return the river to its natural state. The best water elementals were gathered, and they worked day and night, except for Suorndai, to separate the water from the impurities. After a decade, only half the town enjoyed the grandeur of a pure river. But with the discovery of the fairy grove, Gleam Town would depend even less on elemental jewels. Or so they had thought.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Arcadius now rowed across the still toxic part of the river. He scrunched his face as he felt the stench seep into his nose. It tightened his throat, prickled his nose, and made his eyes water. A few men and women suffered the same fate on the river bank. They lifted and waved their hands above them, a sphere of river waste floating upwards and into the large barrels behind them. And until sunrise they would work on separating the water from the waste, a task harder than first imagined. Once finished, each barrel would be full to the prim with toxicity, the lid shut, and sent off. No one knew where the barrels went afterward except for their direction: North.

"It'll be a good long time before this river is completely clean," said Alison, using the hem of her robe to cover her nose. "So, row a bit faster Ark, I don't know if this boat was made to resist this putrid irresponsibility."

Arcadius tightened his arms and pulled harder. He had no intention of knowing what touching the river felt like. Stories spread and none of them were good.

"You know, I've heard bathing here will have your skin gain an invincibility no armor blacksmith's work could ever live up to," Alison smiled at the thought. "But I have seen no one come out after jumping in. That doesn't necessarily mean the rumors are not true. How about it Ark, want to take a quick dip? I'll hold your hand."

Arcadius furiously shook his head. Invincibility or not, it didn't matter if he was dead. Alison laughed at his vigorous shake and they continued onwards into the other half of Saint Pure: clean and fresh.

Establishments began appearing on each side, three or two stories high, crowded against each other to form a tight array of brick and wooden grandeur; however, far enough from the river bank to be separated by stone pavement where a multitude of people walked, each dressed in their finest garbs of sunset. Dark shades of purple and blue covered the men, and rich folds of orange and red vibrant among the women, all illuminated by the interval of pole lamps protruding from the wooden rail that ran where stone and water met. Black and yellow were rare to appear and only as a pair.

Where the stone pavement widened farther, groups of people mingled around stalls of food and play, scent of spices and meat thick in the air. Voices rang out as children ran plenty between, joy and loss at every game they made. Crowds gathered around those who danced with the elements and those who captured them, cheering and applauding. Bridges of the most intricate and colorful design that wood could take connected the opposite sides. Laughter and happy talk came from above when Arcadius rowed under. Lights shined from groups gathered to march in festive mood, these holding drinks and banners of red and purple; the biggest banner a white adorned with gold. Buildings with window lit panes showed a rabble of comfort inside; food and plenty going around.

But Arcadius only lowered his head and Alison said nothing as he simply rowed, navigating the river carefully. They passed the festival in a blur without so much as a glance given to their invisible selves and finally activity lowered to a silence; the river bank was now made completely out of stone and elevated to the height of two tall men.

Grand houses stood tall, white splendors that glistened in the night light, and lonely streets were paved with vibrant marble that showed no stress from time. It was oddly clean and empty space abounded. Few windows showed light, residents unable or unwilling to participate in the nights celebration; others were occupied with activity that never dulled for a day of rest.

They were now up-river and it was much more spacious than the clutter of buildings down-river.

The boat swayed under the darkness of a splendid stone bridge. Arcadius stood on the stone bank and squirmed his eyes toward Alison who had not moved from her seat, the oars now at her feet. His day had finally come to an end, but it seemed as if Alison’s was just beginning. His questions only grew in number but no answers came. They never did.

"Ark, I hope you can make it back to your sister without being seen. I would take you, but I have matters to attend to. I'll be seeing you," Alison said.

Arcadius held the vials in his pocket and frantically waved his hand to Alison. He carefully showed her the vials and pointed to them. And then he pointed to himself. Alison looked forward, eyes focused on something beyond what they saw, and took what seemed an eternity to respond. He almost turned to leave not expecting her to answer. She never had.

"The bargain we made. Yes, it will soon be time for you to keep your end of it. Be careful Arcadius and keep away from the light," Alison declared as the boat began to move away. She lay in the most comfortable position and slowly vanished from his sight.

The boat disappeared into the clearest river, not even the slightest ripple to prove she was there.

Arcadius tightened his hand around the vials and carefully put them in his pocket. He stepped out from underneath the bridge and looked at the moon. He gave a final longing sigh and patted his face. Making his way up stone stairs to the marbled street, he made his way back home.