The Tarnished City

Vetiver

Vetiver gave Mixine a quizzical look, one eyebrow raised. "It took me a while, but I think I finally understand you," Vetiver said in a slow drawl. "You're insane. Plain and simple. No sane person would continue to harass me this way. But your childish insults and willful ignorance finally make sense to me. You simply don't live in the same universe as the rest of us. You live in some fantasy world in your mind."

Turning from Mixine, Vetiver addressed Merrique's question. "I think we should leave soon, very soon. We shall wait until Jade and Marcus's companions get up. As for young master Acai..." Vetiver stalked away toward his tent and raised both his hands. As dark purple glimmers jumped from the tent into his hands, the tent shrunk to the size of a thick gray blanket and left Acai laying on the ground.

"Wake up!" Vetiver snapped. "We have things to do."

 

"You're insane. Plain and simple. No sane person would continue to harass me this way. But your childish insults and willful ignorance finally make sense to me. You simply don't live in the same universe as the rest of us. You live in some fantasy world in your mind."

Mixine shot back at Vetiver with more pity than anger, "So you are just a scared little boy with a bunch of toys. Merrique suffers because of your incompetence. You have not the faintest idea about what to do. Such a great mage! May you have a good death."

Turning her attention to Merrique, Mixine bowed a bit as a sign of respect, "I did not want it to be this way, but I will not follow him. May your kindness save his life again and may you bear many beautiful healthy children in the years to come. "

With that Mixine separated from them and started to walk into the city on her own, she was careful and measured in her steps. She sought out the scent of life and death, knowing that somewhere within would be the fallen. Though she knew nothing, she hoped that someone would inform her of what had happened and if she might be useful in tending to the rites of the dead. Through such ways, Mixine had come to respect life and cherish it. It was why Vetiver's cooking of eggs bothered her, unborn life had been snuffed out before it had a chance to live. While nature was cruel and hunting was a matter of survival, it still should not resort on consuming the young. Still, Merrique's vegetarianism made her spiritually jealous because Mixine felt tainted in comparison to such a lofty and pure way of living.

As she ventured in, she started to sniff the air and listen for the sounds of movement and life. Her eyes were alert and her mind at peace. This land, this holy land, started to interest her now.

 

Acai

Acai grumbled and stood up, upset that his rest had been disturbed He wiped the dirt from his brown pants and was putting on his boots, when that tent monster blew up at Vetiver...again. What was it, the third time she had started yelling and cursing? When was she going to chill out, for pete's sake? No one else in their company had as short a fuse Mixine did. The last time Acai had yelled like Mixine was when he was five, and he had gotten a whooping for it. Acai was beginning to wonder if Mixine was emotionally unstable.

He eyed her warily as she stalked off into Para'Ven, to make sure she didn't turn around and surprise attack anyone. He had seen her go all electric and crazy before and he wasn't gonna let her zap Vetiver in the back. When the tent monster was out of sight, Acai walked up to his new master.

"So...are we going in, too?" he asked anxiously.

 

Merrique

Merrique stood helplessly on the sidelines when Mixine exploded at Vetiver. She wanted to intervene, but she also did not want to get in Mixine's way when she was angry. Merrique didn't have her powers anymore, so she had to be more cautious. If Mixine went berzerk again and Merrique was near her or touching her, she might get shocked and die. So, Merrique let Mixine let off steam and slipped one hand inside her cloak to hold her dagger, just in case things got violent.

"I did not want it to be this way, but I will not follow him. May your kindness save his life again and may you bear many beautiful healthy children in the years to come."

Merrique was touched, and a little confused. Why did Mixine think Merrique had saved Vetiver's life? The opposite was true: Vetiver had helped Merrique fight the one-eyed psycho. Despite her fondness for Mixine, the Lady Sorceress couldn't help but wonder if Vetiver was right, that Mixine didn't see the world the same way as the rest of them did. She watched sorrowfully as Mixine stomped through the gates into Para'Ven, all by her lonesome.

"I'm going in after her," Merrique told the rest of the group. She took out her dagger, the long blade glinting wickedly. "Follow us or don't, but I can't let poor Mixine go into this cursed place alone." That said, Merrique sprinted after the walking tent, her crimson cloak flapping behind her.

 

The city was, silent. Not a single noise and totally lifeless. A long walkway stretched before her, leading to the cathedral in the center. Statues lined the road, visages of noble heroes and hallowed priests worn away by time. Even the floor was decorated, an elegant composite of mosaics extending before her. At her feet were people farming, tending to the land and feeding a menagerie of animals, all the while an armored figure watched over them, arms raised around an orange sphere . To the left side of them was a forest, darkness laying between the trees and penetrated by sharp yellow eyes, a woman stood in outside with a single arm outstretched, palm perpendicular to them as if telling them to stop. On depiction to the far right of the road was a cloak, stood upright, yet hollow, a glint of silver where its eye should be. Before it was a woman kneeling, a small and bloodied child in her arms. As the path followed the position of the pair changed, ending in the cloak taking the babe and moving away.
Eventually, this gave way to the area the fight had taken place last night, the only sign being a few daggers lying on the floor, and a puddle of thick, black fluid. The area was decorated much the same as the rest of the city, though stalls, the type that might be found at a market, were littered throughout the area, no longer hidden by the mists. Behind each one was a figure, cloaked in patchwork quilts that hid their form, though they were all of a natural height. Any feature of them was obscured, not even the sound of breath coming from them. Stranger still, at the foot of each one was a ring of metal, sharp and jagged like the teeth of a hound.
The silence was then interrupted, the sound of a man singing seeping from a building to the right, bordered up from the outside with piece of a pillar placed outside the door, and the windows barred with iron.
"In the silence of the first night, the maid did call unto me,
sharpen your blade, before I count to three.
Yet the maid's was unnappealing so I declared to she:
My blade shall be blunt, incomparable to a tree
for my mood is ruined, from what I see."

 

"You're probably the only person here who has asked me any of those questions, I will gladly answer them. I have used magic since I was very young; all the women in my family were strong witches and they taught me everything I know. I truly did not even know that it was magic, I just thought it was something everyone could do, because I stayed locked up inside our house until I was nine or ten. They kept me inside because my powers developed very quickly and I couldn't control them when I was emotional. Where I'm from, witches and sorcerers were burned in the village square if they were discovered."

His face changed, and Marcus noticed it right away. There must have been some terrible memories associated with that fact. Witches being burned at the stake... "Anyway, magic is particularly strong in my lineage. The most powerful of us all was Great Maja, my grandmother, who was gifted with many powers and was a great seer. She could whip up a storm faster than any witch I know: there were clear blue skies one moment, and the next there everything was dark and windy and pouring rain. But she couldn't see everything, no seer can see all possible futures. I was the first boy to ever be born with magic in my family, and no one saw that coming, not even my own sweet mother..."

Vetiver sighed, clapping his hands. His smile looked forced. "I'm sorry. I talk too much sometimes. I hope I didn't bore you. I'm sorry."

Marcus stood silently, quietly judging the man's words. A sorcerer's words. One who would use the corrupt magics of the supernatural to interfere with the natural world. Yet Vetiver had something that Henry didn't. The ability to reflect. Maybe not critical thinking... his actions last night were questionable, although he was sure that he was fairly intelligent, just maybe not careful enough. Like it or not, Marcus was being thrown into a world of magic, illusion, and mystery, and it would be the one with the most intelligence and power who would survive and conquer all. He thought of what his life would've been like if it had not been for Henry. It would have been so much better... a happy, peaceful life. Ruined by a potent, deadly, and planned dose of poisonous magic. These figures surrounded used it to survive, but was that really any better than what Henry had done? No, it wasn't. There are no excuses. They would get their comeuppance one day. But for now... they were friends. They were people, just like killers and rapists are people. Ones, that like himself, did the unthinkable sometimes to ensure their survival. However ignorant they were of what they were doing.

Vetiver's words had simmered in the air for maybe a minute, and Marcus almost broke the silence before Merrique made herself known.

He noticed Merrique sleepily trudging over to them, and smiled, taking her in. She looked like death... but somehow was still sexy, just slightly less so. Her ringlets still enthralled him; he had never seen hair like that before, and it was only now, when it was the most crazy, that he realized that it was even there, amidst all the chaos of the previous days. That dress... Dad had told him about women who dressed to impress other men; he'd told him that they were all going to heaven for giving us 'poor men' the gift of their bodies. Quite different than what the pastor had said to him once, but then his dad was always different. By that logic, she must be going somewhere between heaven and hell. Personally, Marcus wanted to hear her thoughts first before he made any judgments.

"Morning, gents," She yawned, taking a gander at the purified water, her eyes suddenly gleaming. She smirked at Vetiver. "Nice thinking!" She grabbed a small canteen, and filled it with the water, taking a few loud gulps before sighing. "So... when are we heading out?"

Marcus glanced at her, before thinking, just for a moment, that that dress needed to be gone. He breathed in and out, clearing his head. He started to speak, when Mixine came into the conversation.

"Heading out? At least four widths I'd expect, unless you want to tempt a blade in the night." Marcus drew a blank at the expression of width as a unit of time, and Mixine promptly sighed. "You owe your lives to us after all, so let her sleep while you get a lay of the city. I would apologize to the holy warrior and maybe they will grant us refuge. If you are a scared child, I will go. I have business to conduct with the master of Para'Ven. That is how you pronounce it... right?"

Vetiver turned to Mixine, quizzical. "It took me a while, but I think I finally understand you... You're insane. Plain and simple. No sane person would continue to harass me this way. But your childish insults and willful ignorance finally make sense to me. You simply don't live in the same universe as the rest of us. You live in some fantasy world in your mind." He addressed Merrique. "I think we should leave soon, very soon. We shall wait until Jade and Marcus's companions get up. As for young master Acai..."

Vetiver, somewhat angrily, disappeared the tent from over Acai's head. "Wake up! We have things to do."

Mixine angrily retorted, "So you are just a scared little boy with a bunch of toys. Merrique suffers because of your incompetence. You have not the faintest idea about what to do. Such a great mage! May you have a good death." She turned to Merrique, "I did not want it to be this way, but I will not follow him. May your kindness save his life again and may you bear many beautiful healthy children in the years to come."

Mixine promptly started walking away from the group, and Marcus sighed, his eyes dull. He felt Kent's presence behind him, and Dart laid a hand on his shoulder.

"So, are we going in too?" Acai asked, his voice treble and nervous. Marcus eyed him. Merrique left, and Marcus barely registered what she said, only that she had left.

"You know what, I don't think we should. They went to the center cathedral... whereas I think going to the East is the better bet. I highly doubt that there is a warm greeting awaiting for either Mixine or Merrique there, and I don't want to get trapped in whatever is lying there for them." Marcus smiled. He knew that Acai liked Merrique and Vetiver much more than he did Marcus. However, hopefully he could appeal to him with common sense.

He turned to Vetiver. "What do you know of visions, Vetiver? I received one late in the night yesterday... it told of something that I had to do. It showed me that there was a ring located in the East side of the city, amongst the gravestones. It also told me to seek someone called The First Scholar."

Then he noticed that Jade was missing. She must still be sleeping. "We should wait here... or at least leave a campsite here for everyone to return to... When they come back, we can exchange information. However, if they don't... we will be able to go on."

 

"Merrique?" Mixine's face brightened with joy, "I am happy to see you, but I am surprised you left his side. This land really is sacred, isn't it?"

"Sacred? I dunno about that." Merrique glanced around at the creepy blanket-covered figures in the stalls. "I'd say 'creepy' or 'morbid', not sacred. And by him do you mean Vetiver? He's really not such a bad guy, Mixine." Merrique reached out slowly to lay a gentle hand on the side of Mixine's cloak, so she wouldn't surprise her. "It will make everything so much easier if you could drop your vendetta against him. Or else you guys will end up fighting, and that definitely won't end well."

Mixine nodded as Merrique sought to touch her cloak, "I really do not know how to interact with people, but men like him make me so upset. I cannot follow him. When I slept last night, I believed that there was a good chance I would never wake. More than anything, part of me welcomed it. There is no one that I have in this world, I buried myself with my master. You... are the first person to actually embrace me in almost a decade. It has been so long since I felt the warmth of another person..."

Mixine held out her hand and pulled the top of her hood completely off and offered her hand to Merrique, "Please do not take this the wrong way, but have you... taken a life?"

Merrique took Mixine's hand in her soft brown hand. "Taken a life?" she repeated. "Sure. Plenty of times. Killers try to raid my home, the Crystal City, all the time. We fight them off each time, but eventually they always come back, with even craftier battle strategies. One time they almost got through the outer wall, but I cast this spell to make vines attack them and they were all strangled or thrown to their deaths."

The Lady Sorceress shrugged and rubbed the back of Mixine's hand with her thumb without even thinking about it. "I would kill anyone who threatens my life, or the life of an innocent, or the lives of the ones I love." She paused and looked up at the old abandoned building that music was coming out of. Someone was singing in there.

"Should we go inside and investigate?" Merrique asked warily. She took out her dagger again and stared at the building. Her yellow hazel eyes watched every window, trying to see if someone was going to appear.

Mixine nodded weakly as she tried to understand that Merrique had taken many lives as well. Both of the women she sought strength and comfort in had killed. Was this the way of the outside world? Kill or be killed? Her eyes flashed to focus as she saw Merrique's dagger and she raised her hand in protest, "I will protect you so please put it away. Have faith in mankind."

"My blade shall be blunt, incomparable to a tree
for my mood is ruined, from what I see."

Suspecting the dangers of using magic, Mixine kept her power suppressed though her gut tightened in protest. If this city was sacred, if this place was peaceful, why was she on edge? The aura of this city evoked the same feeling that arose when word of the Muse came from Baba, but something was wrong. Where had the thirty fallen men gone? Her eyes scanned the area and caught sight of the black fluid and the daggers. It did not seem right. Looking at the black fluid, Mixine refrained from touching it before taking in the sight of the dagger and a more careful look of the area. These items were not the type to be left behind by accident. Mixine's asked Merrique, "Is this... the place?"

Merrique looked from Mixine to the daggers and the spilled black blood. "Yes, the fight was here." Merrique stared for a moment, thinking of the moment the one-eyed psycho branded her and took her powers, and then turned back to the board-up building. "But that's in the past. I think we should go inside."

With a slight nod, Mixine's suspicions were confirmed and she headed towards the building with the singing man. The bodies may be gone, but where was the blood? Magically cleansed? Where did the remains go? She had to be strong, she needed to protect Merrique. Her mind was full of questions as she called out to the singing man, "Kind bard, may we join you?"

 

There was a moment of silence before an armoured figure walked to the window, face hidden by an old, dented iron helm. His suit was elaborate, interlocking plates dulled by time and slight dents. On either shoulder was the visage of a hawk, the long hooked beak a brazen colour and the eyes staring as if focused on a particularly plump rabbit. His chest-plate was similar, the same animal sculpted onto it with the beak ending at around the middle of his stomach. "I am no bard, though if you remove the pillar from the door you may enter." He stated, a soft voice coming from him before he disappeared from the window, sitting against the wall away from the door.

 

Vetiver

"I'm going in after her," Merrique told the rest of the group. She took out her dagger, the long blade glinting wickedly. "Follow us or don't, but I can't let poor Mixine go into this cursed place alone."

"Wait!" Vetiver yelled after her, but she was already gone. Damn that woman could run fast!

"So, are we going in too?" Acai asked anxiously.

"I..." Vetiver started to speak and trailed off, uncertain. He was thinking about what had happened to Merrique: the brand and her stolen powers. What if that happened to me? But Vetiver slapped himself mentally. Those were the thoughts of a coward. Cowards sat around worrying about whether they would get hurt or not. Heroes acted out of pure selfless bravery. If Vetiver stayed behind with the boy and the mercenaries, then he would truly become the "man child" that Mixine was so fond of calling him.

"What do you know of visions, Vetiver? I received one late in the night yesterday... it told of something that I had to do. It showed me that there was a ring located in the East side of the city, amongst the gravestones. It also told me to seek someone called The First Scholar."

"Visions should not be ignored," Vetiver told Marcus in a serious tone. "I looked into my Dark Mirror early this morning and saw something like a ring. This just confirms that we need to find it."

"We should wait here... or at least leave a campsite here for everyone to return to... When they come back, we can exchange information. However, if they don't... we will be able to go on."

Now Vetiver gave Marcus a sharp look. "You know, I thought I was cold-hearted before I met you," he said slowly. "But next to you, I feel like a saint. I am not just going to sit idly by and leave them to face whatever danger they happen upon. We're going to need every single person in our group to survive, and now that Merrique's powers have been stolen, Mixine is the only other magic-user on our team. We will need her." Vetiver took out the Black Wand and in the other hand he took out the Summoning Bell.

To Marcus, Vetiver said, "You may sit on the sidelines and avoid every confrontation that comes along, but that is not in my nature. I don't judge you for your actions. Not everyone can be a hero." That said, Vetiver turned to Acai. "Come along, boy!" Then he marched into the Tarnished City.

 

"I am no bard, though if you remove the pillar from the door you may enter."

Mixine pondered for a moment, "Oh, you are a prisoner? What did you do to end up here? I am a traveler from afar, sorry if I do not understand your situation. I do not understand this place at all."

A barred entrance and barred windows, if the man could not open the door then his freedom had been taken away. Then it would make sense her assistance would also be a crime in of itself. Those strange figures behind the stalls, perhaps they would have more information. If not for the alluring song, Mixine would have sought them out first.

 

"I was placed her by the witch hunter from the desert, saying the mist would sense me and steer the knights and bishop to this area. Then he and the traps would do the rest." He replied. "I am Duke Selzec, of the Gammoran Plains, might I inquire your name?"

 

Mixine nodded and bowed her head respectfully as if by habit, "Pardon me, Duke Selzec. My name is Mixine Plumreed, a salvemaker from the Brackenmarsh."

Then as the forced greeting left her lips, a shock filled Mixine's body and she winced in pain as if she connected Merrique's words, "Your men... traps... Mister...Duke Selzec. Are you at war or are you a mage? How can you be held here as bait..."

As the word left her lips, Mixine's hand reached out for Merrique's own hand. The dread seeped into her mind and she started to tremble as whatever happened last night was almost certainly connected to the fate of the thirty men. Evil. The concept reared its face in the back of her mind, those who kill not out of necessity. The face of a pudgy man, his cheeks raised and the lines of his face pulled into little half moons, a menacing gleeful grin. Someone who sets traps to hunt men...

"Last night, did you hear anything? How does it work?" Mixine's voice was becoming fearful as she realized the daggers and the black fluid could have been traps. Anything which drew curiosity was potentially deadly. She had been skeptical of this man, but what would he gain by lying? Where was the jailer?

 

Merrique

Merrique saw Mixine reach out her hand and she took it without hesitation. After giving Mixine a brave smile, Merrique turned to the imprisoned duke and called out, "I am Lady Merrique, you may have heard of me. We were attacked by a man who stole my powers. He had the sign of the Witch Hunters, so I guess he's your enemy too."

"Mixine," Merrique went on. "I think we can trust him. He is an enemy of our enemy, and we can use all the help we can get to fight that mad man. Imagine if brands you or Vetiver next?" Merrique squeezed Mixine's hand. "I think we should let Duke Selzec out."

 

Vetiver

Vetiver rounded the corner to see The Tent and the Lady Sorceress holding hands in front of a derelict building. He stopped in his tracks and had a sudden pang of jealousy in his gut. He quickly pushed down the unwanted feeling and ducked back around the corner before anyone saw him. After putting the Wand and Bell back into his belt, the tall sorcerer peeked around the corner and saw that Merrique was talking to a guy who was trapped inside the building.

"I think we should let Duke Selzec out."

A sudden urge to impress Merrique came over Vetiver. He came from around the corner and, after giving the blanket-covered figures a cautious glance, he strode right up to The Tent and Merrique. "Don't you worry, my lady," Vetiver said in a loud, commanding tone. "I can let the Duke out, all by myself." He gave Mixine a smug grin and turned to the pillar in front of the building.

"Levitas!" Vetiver yelled. He held up both hands and all his rings glowed fiercely. Thick purple glimmers appeared around his head and shoulders and around his black irises as he concentrated all his will on levitating the pillar away from the door.

 

Mixine did not like to be treated like a mage, her power was her own and yet the Muse claimed all with magical ability. She knew little of the coven, much less how to act as one. Protecting the Brackenmarsh and its secrets was something all outsiders were supposed to do. Still, Mixine did not realize magic was able to be detected in others until just yesterday. There was little point in hiding it.

"Yes," Mixine said softly, still unsure if the enemy of her enemy could be an ally. It certainly did not apply in reverse.

"I can let the Duke out, all by myself." He gave Mixine a smug grin and turned to the pillar in front of the building. ... "Levitas!" Vetiver yelled.

She squeezed Merrique's hand a little and secretly hoped Vetiver would fail. What did Merrique see in this cocky bastard? Is that really her type of man? Or was it money and power? Also, this magical power that Vetiver had was interesting, but was she capable of utilizing her power like this? Well... if it worked she would have to ask if it was possible to learn. Never carrying her burden again seemed like a good option.

 

The pillar moved easily, floating without any effort. "Come inside, I've made my cell as comfortable as possible, place used to be an old in from what I can tell."
His words were true, glancing beyond the window the remnants of a bar could be seen, along with a series of empty bottles arranged in piles in the corner. A series of chairs, one over half a dozen, surrounded a fire pit in the center of the room, though it was clear that it had not been lit in a long time. "If any of you have a tinderbox, might I ask that you light the fire." He replied, picking up the remnants of a table leg and tossing it into the pit.

 

"Come inside, I've made my cell as comfortable as possible, place used to be an old in from what I can tell." ... "If any of you have a tinderbox, might I ask that you light the fire."

Mixine did not trust him and she held her hand stiff on Merrique, entering the room was likely to be a trap itself. What kind of trap? She did not know, but just like those daggers and oil on the ground, investigation alone could trigger some mechanism. Hunters employed all sorts of traps, but the most convincing and effective ones used against intelligent or elusive prey offered something more desirable then food. How many dozens upon dozens of designs were employed to lure targets by calls, pheromones, clever decoys and even homes? They go in and never come out. If Duke Selzec was living bait why would he not be running from this city into the arms of his countrymen? There was nothing natural about this. If they enter and lit the fire, they would be staying. That was clear.

Mixine mumbled weakly into Merrique's ear, "A trap... He aids the hunter. The battle...he must know."

She doubted that this man could have slept through a battle that caused such a commotion. If he was open about the mist and being bait, then the only alternative was clear. Magic or no magic, survival required on not placing oneself in stupid situations. Getting comfortable with bait inside his own jail cell... Duke Selzec's lead would likely go to Hell itself.

"Duke...Selzec," Mixine stood her ground, "What did you hear last night?"

 

"A commotion. Armour feet, a series of steel traps, the screams of a banshee coming from the form of a knight." He began, his words honest. "The slight chime of The Fat Bishop's staff before arrows impaled his flesh. Silence for a brief time. The sound of a series of objects hitting the floor. Then a little bit of talking. Similar to most nights when someone new enters the city. I've been here so, so long." He murmured, glancing at a wall with an endless tally on it.

 

"Visions should not be ignored..." Vetiver paused, "I looked into my Dark Mirror early this morning and saw something like a ring. This just confirms that we need to find it." He paused considering Marcus's last words.

"You know, I thought I was cold-hearted before I met you," he said slowly, his words careful and measured. "But next to you, I feel like a saint. I am not just going to sit idly by and leave them to face whatever danger they happen upon. We're going to need every single person in our group to survive, and now that Merrique's powers have been stolen, Mixine is the only other magic-user on our team. We will need her."

"You may sit on the sidelines and avoid every confrontation that comes along, but that is not in my nature. I don't judge you for your actions. Not everyone can be a hero." That said, Vetiver turned to Acai. "Come along, boy!"

Marcus watched as the only two acquaintances he had left had deserted him. The only remaining was Jade, who had yet to show her face. She was either asleep or hiding somewhere, he had no idea.

"Well, I guess that sucks, right?" Dart chuckled. "You wanna go in after them? Or are we on ring duty?"

Marcus sighed. "He's right. We're not heroes."

Kent lightly chuckled. "Most definitely not. A sorcerer just compared himself to a saint next to you. Your comment about going on was not taken well at all."

"...I think we're on ring duty." Marcus frowned, crossing his arms. "There are enough people there that they should be fine. Our presence would hardly help them. Plus, who says that there'll be any danger there anyway?"

"Kill two birds with one stone rather than two." Dart laughed. "Yeah. Vetiver's coming off as fairly unintelligent to me. Good thing he doesn't judge you, otherwise he'd use biased words like 'hero' and 'idly'. I know none of that got to you. You've faced down guilt and death so many times in so few years its amazing."

Kent said, "Our goal is not to be read in the pages of a history book. Our goal is to explore and find out as much about this city as possible. We can rendezvous with the others later easily, meanwhile we can head for the East and search for that ring."

Marcus nodded. "Sounds good... I'll go see where Jade is... I don't think its a good idea to leave her alone."

Marcus walks over to where she had been sleeping. "Jade... everyone has left, and I think you should come with us."

 

"Jade... everyone has left, and I think you should come with us."

Jade woke up with a start, and drew her dagger pointing against to the man who was waking her. Then the sleep fog cleared, and she saw Marcus, standing over her. She quickly sheathed her dagger, and stood up, grumbling. "Sorry," she said. "Next time, wake me up by shouting from really far away. I enjoy your company too much to accidentally kill you when I wake."

She ruffled her hair, a massive tangled mess. She probably looked terrible, with heavy bags under her bloodshot eyes. Jade gave a yawn and stretched.

 

"A commotion. Armour feet, a series of steel traps, the screams of a banshee coming from the form of a knight. The slight chime of The Fat Bishop's staff before arrows impaled his flesh. Silence for a brief time. The sound of a series of objects hitting the floor. Then a little bit of talking. Similar to most nights when someone new enters the city. I've been here so, so long."

She shifted a bit and wondered what to do. If Merrique's magic was lost or sealed away, how likely was it to get it back from the man by asking nicely? Cleanse.... cleanse... She let out a sigh and pulled a small thimble-sized brown glass bottle which contained a liquid that shifted about inside. Releasing the top she raised it to her nose before breathing deeply. The scent of a strong tea tree and lavender oil filled her with the fragrant warmth.

Mixine sighed before stating as confidently as she could muster, "Come Duke Selzec, we will take you from this place. You should not want to linger here for another moment, take your affects and run for you life."

 

"No point running at the moment, the city keeps you in." He replied. "You won't find yourself hungry or thirsty either. Though I suppose the shepherd must tend to its flock." He replied. "And it's only night when the dangers come."

 

"Keeps you in?" Mixine looked to Merrique and Vetiver, "I am not staying in this place and both of them went in and left just fine last night. What do you want of us? Why tell us anything if we have done nothing for you? And what kind of person decides to hunt people!?"

Mixine pointed at Duke Selzec in a bit of frustration, "Where and who takes the bodies? Why is there no blood in the square? Nothing is making any sense to me!"

 

"One question at a time young miss, one question at a time." He murmured. "I want nothing of you, nor is my desire to aid you motivated by any want I might have. You freed me from my cell, is that not enough of a reason. As for who wants to hunt their own kind, ask the man yourself, I know little of them." He sighed, placing a finger to his temple, the metal of the gauntlet clinking on that of his helm. "As for the bodies, 'tis not a question of them being taken, they fade with the mists, though the false knights bleed an inky substance from what I've seen from my window. Please, ask one question at a time, that way I might be able to grant some depth to the answer."

 

Mixine nodded and reflected on the answer, she was skeptical of the man and did not really know much of the magics that must be at work in this place. She looked to Merrique, "I think it would better to escape with our lives then be devoured by the mechanizations of dark magic. Do you know of anything about this evil puppetry and the need to collect the weaves?"

It was an arcane description, but Mixine thought the place existed and persisted based on it luring people of power or greed into its web. If Merrique's power was taken, then it meant it should be possible to restore or more sinisterly, implant magic. If Duke Selzec was true to his word, then this entire city required infusions of magic and life to continue whatever purpose its masters wanted. Mixine wanted to run before the trap was sprung.