011.005

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Freedom of Choice

Empty Mirror


“You stupid bitch! Can’t threaten to kill me now, can you?” Cid shouted at the hole in the tunnel floor. His eyes widened momentarily as he reached up to his throat, but the black smoke from the Contract spell was already disappearing, leaving him with a full grin on his face. “Hope you enjoy it down there as much as I did. Say hello to Bacco for me.”

Alyssa watched in silence from her shroud of fractal illusions as he slid the light holder back into the wall. The trapdoor snapped shut, becoming nearly impossible to tell apart from the surrounding floor. If she hadn’t known it was there, she wouldn’t have thought anything of it. Elven engineering? She hadn’t known that elves were engineers. Craftsmen, yes. Engineers? Maybe she could start an industrial revolution, she just needed to go visit the elves.

Later. For now, she needed to get Kasita out of whatever dungeon she had fallen into. Alyssa wasn’t too worried about the mimic. Unless that trapdoor dropped her into a furnace, she should be fine. Tzheitza had stabbed her enough over the past week that Alyssa had a hard time being worried. Even the Taker torturing her wouldn’t cause much harm unless he realized that she was a mimic and changed his tactics to compensate. And Kasita had assured her that she would be fine. In fact, she might have already escaped. Alyssa pictured some kind of barred cell, which she would easily slip through just by changing to something small.

Now, what was her plan? Tzheitza and Oz wouldn’t have been able to follow, so maybe return and open the doors for them? Cid might get away if he continued on down the tunnel. Following him would be fine, but if he started walking back to the secret entrance, she would have to keep ahead of him. There simply wasn’t space in the narrow tunnel to slip past someone.

Not without potentially brushing up against him.

“Cid.”

Alyssa felt her blood curdle as a new voice broke the silence. A man emerged from the shadows behind Cid. A shorter man, though not significantly so. He still managed to cut an imposing presence with his dark leather outfit. It almost looked like a trench coat with how long it was, though it clearly had been tailored for his narrow frame. A long sword hung from one hip and a shorter dagger on his opposite. No tome of spells like Irulon had, though he could have spells hidden inside his coat. Tzheitza had said that he was an arcanist, though he had only been around a Rank Three caster back when he worked with the Knights Solaris.

At hearing the slightly nasally voice, Cid jumped and spun around, losing all the haughty confidence from when he dropped Kasita down the hole. “T-Taker. I-I-I thought you were waiting down below.”

“You cut your deadline close. I was heading out to find you. My appreciation for saving me the trouble.” The Taker took a step forward, sending Cid a step back.

“I did everything you asked for. The girl is down in the dungeons. I-I couldn’t get her weapon away from her. Or her spells.”

“So not everything.”

The Taker took another two steps forward. Cid staggered back, tripping over his own shoes and landing on the ground. He was right over the trapdoor, though with how much his hands were shaking, he probably was too focused on the Taker to realize, though the Taker was still a good distance away from the disguised lever. “Please, I did the best I could.”

“I suppose expecting anything more from you would leave me disappointed,” the Taker said, clasping his hands behind his back. “Would that I had more time, I could teach you, instill upon you my standards. Unfortunately, they want this taken care of as soon as possible. You’re free to go.”

Cid didn’t move. Even as the Taker walked over to one of the lights—not the same one that had activated the trapdoor—he stayed on the floor, just blinking his eyes. Ever so slowly, a smile parted his lips. “Really?”

“If you wish to stay…”

“No!” Cid shouted. The Taker paused, turning to him with a raised eyebrow. “I-I mean, no thank you, uh, boss.”

The Taker gave a curt nod of his head, pulling the light as he did so. Cid remained where he was, no hole opened up beneath him. No other traps did anything to him. Instead, a section of the wall slid away, falling into the ground to reveal yet another staircase.

Alyssa started eying the nearest light holder to her. Did all of them open up something? Maybe a few even activated traps. Not just the trapdoor, but spike traps or falling ceilings. She slid away, moving to the opposite side of the tunnel to keep from accidentally triggering anything.

“Her weapon,” Cid blurted out before the Taker could descend. “She has more than just the long one. There is one under her arm and one at her hip. They don’t look anything like the long one, but they are definitely the same kind of weapons… I haven’t actually seen her use them, but she pulled one out and pointed it at me just like the big one.”

The Taker stilled for one moment before bursting out in a tittering sort of laughter. “Well done, Cid. Well done. I didn’t think you had it in you to be useful. Any other interesting tidbits I should be aware of?”

“Uhh… She uses regular magic as well? I didn’t see her spells, but she used one on me.” Cid’s hand moved up to rub at his neck again as if he were confirming that the smoke noose had indeed vanished. “Contract, I believe its name was.”

“Death magic, Rank Four. Similar spells won’t be an issue.”

“And that potion maker. I haven’t seen her in a while, but she was probably following us until we reached the house.”

“Ah yes, Tzheitza. I’ve already sent my latest disappointment to deal with my dear old comrade. Unless she has lost her touch since her retirement, the assassin will fail—hence disappointment—but it should have proved a distraction for her. Best not to use that exit, just in case. In fact, remain in the Waterhole until further notice.”

Alyssa’s stomach dropped out from under her. She clutched her shotgun to her chest. An assassin? Tzheitza was a former mercenary who could almost certainly take care of herself. Oz was with her as well. They would be fine. They should be fine. But Alyssa still clenched her teeth together, angry at… a lot of things. Herself, for dragging them into this. Cid and Bacco for dragging her into this. The stupid gang. This Taker.

Tenebrael. Couldn’t forget about that stupid angel.

She had a Message spell. She could warn them. From the way the Taker was talking, it was already too late. Shouting a warning in their ears could be just the thing that distracted them into making a mistake. The Taker didn’t seem to think that the assassin he had sent was up to snuff either. Besides, she couldn’t do it now anyway. Not with these two so close to her. The Empty Mirror spell kept her safe from being spotted and heard, but it wasn’t perfect. If she intentionally reached out of the veil of shards, say to brush at Kasita’s elbow, the spell would allow it. Speaking with the intention of sending her voice out of the bubble might just reveal herself.

No. She would have to trust that they could take care of themselves. Hopefully the assassin wouldn’t be expecting Oz.

As she thought, Cid had started to blubber to himself. “But-But I’m free to go. You said it yourself!”

“I changed my mind. Don’t leave the Waterhole, Cid. Your life is worthless enough as it is; I don’t want to waste my time hunting you down. But I’ll have to. You’ll be caught by Tzheitza and she will make you tell her everything. I know you. You’re a squealer.” The Taker’s hand, gloved with black leather that matched his trench coat, dropped down to his dagger. “Or I could save myself the trouble.”

“W-Waterhole? I love that place!”

“That’s what I thought. We’ll talk later, Cid.” Turning back to the stairs, the Taker left the passage. After a moment, the wall rose up out of the floor, sealing his path from the rest.

Cid flopped over on the ground, no longer able to prop himself up on his hands. His breaths were rapid and heavy, as if he had just run his first mile in over a year. For a few minutes, he didn’t move, content with his rest.

Neither did Alyssa. She stayed where she was. A part of her wanted to run back, find Tzheitza and Oz, and help them with their assassin. But she would most likely just be in the way. Tzheitza might be more than a match for the Taker’s latest disappointment, but Alyssa doubted that she would be. Aside from that, she couldn’t just leave Kasita down in the cells. While she might have escaped already, she could still be pretending to be Alyssa. They hadn’t planned for this exact situation. They had expected an ambush of sorts. If she was still disguised and the Taker found out that she was a mimic, she could find herself in serious trouble.

Besides all that, if the Taker found himself looking into an empty cell that was supposed to be holding Alyssa, he would probably march right back up here, kill Cid, and then go hunting for her. She could care less about what happened to Cid, but not much. Not after this, admittedly expected, betrayal. But with the Taker, she had the initiative at the moment. Losing that could cost not only her, but Tzheitza, Oz, and even Kasita. She needed to act now. Or, as soon as Cid got out of the way. Climbing over him while he was lying in the middle of the floor risked too much. All she needed to do was walk down the stairs while invisible and shoot the Taker in the back of the head.

A man like that, she was willing to accept his death on her conscience.

Cid didn’t stay on the floor for long. He pulled himself to his feet. Given how much his legs were shaking, it was a surprise he managed to stand at all. Yet he did. He even managed to take a few steps, moving forward until he paused right where the Taker had disappeared down the side passage. “I hope you two kill each other,” he spat out. As if spooked by his own shadow, he took off running away from Alyssa, leaving her alone in the tunnel.

Waiting just long enough to ensure that he wouldn’t be returning soon, Alyssa walked up to the same light holder that the Taker had used.

It was brass like the others, scuffed up and ugly. Forged in a hurry, probably. Like all the others, it looked like it had been hammered into the wall haphazardly. The lights weren’t evenly spaced. Some where higher up on the walls than others. A few didn’t even have jars of light sitting on top of them. One holder had broken glass littering the floor around it. If someone like the city guard found their way down here, they would pass by the holders not knowing that at least a few of them were hidden levers. Some were probably designed to kill or capture the puller, just in case a guard or escaping prisoner got the bright idea to test it out. At least, that was how she would have done it if she were the leader of an evil crime syndicate.

Of course, if she were in charge, she would have some kind of key system so that not just anyone could open the top secret doors to her underground dungeon.

Which is exactly what Alyssa did. Pulling the lever caused a ripple in the slowly moving shards of her invisibility spell. As soon as she let go, the ripple returned to normal. At first, she had been worried about reaching through the veil of the spell. It looked just like shards of glass. Just because it didn’t whip about like a tornado as the Fractal Mirror spell did didn’t mean that it wouldn’t tear off her arm if she put it through.

But it didn’t. It did feel strange. Like dipping her arm into a cooler filled with water and ice, minus the cold. When she put her arm through, most of it moved out of the way easily, but some of the shards felt hard against her skin. Strange, but no harm seemed to come of it, so she wasn’t going to worry over it too much.

The hallway opened up just as it had when the Taker pulled the lever, revealing another set of stairs. The ceiling started low, no higher than the already cramped main passageway, but it stayed roughly the same height. Both the walls and stairs were much smoother, having been made of actual bricks rather than just carved from the surrounding earth. The actual size was still rather narrow, but the extra headroom alone reduced the claustrophobia tenfold.

Finding no guards, she started down the steps. It was a bit odd that this criminal organization didn’t have any guards outside their secret passages, but maybe it made sense. A fully armed man sitting outside or even inside a house all day would be far more suspicious than a boarded up and abandoned old house. Their best security was their secrecy.

As with the stairs inside the house, a far more obvious lever at the bottom closed up the opening. From there, the path split. A hallway crossed from the left to the right with identical doors on either end. There weren’t any signs indicating what was behind those doors.

Alyssa picked the right path. She had two primary reasons. The first was that the trapdoor Kasita had fallen through was in this direction. The second was the pained moaning echoing off the walls. It wasn’t Kasita. The groaning was far more masculine than Kasita’s voice.

Or… her normal voice. If she wanted to, she could probably disguise herself as Cid—or anyone else for that matter—and sound just like him. This voice didn’t sound like Cid though. It was a bit too deep for him. It did, however, sound familiar.

Bacco.

Alyssa hesitated outside the door. If she was right, the other side would be some kind of prison. Maybe it wouldn’t warrant such a fancy word, but there would be holding cells and captives. And, most likely, the Taker. Opening the door, even with her invisibility, would surely attract his attention. If he was even half the man the others talked him up to be, he would know without a doubt that someone invisible had entered the room.

So rather than barge in like some kind of fool, Alyssa pulled a card from her pocket. Another of the spells Irulon had made for her. Another Fractal spell. Infinite Regress. Rank Five.

In all honesty, she didn’t want to use it. It sounded too similar to Fractal Mirror. Perhaps even stranger despite being a lower rank. But she couldn’t just walk in without starting a fight. As long as she understood the spell’s effects, Infinite Regress should allow her to safely scout out the interior if not deal with the Taker.

Closing her eyes, Alyssa cast the spell. When she opened them, she found the door gone. The hallway extended further out, continuing onward until there was a door far far off in the distance. Just in front of her, there was a slight glistening field blocking off most of the hallway. Most. Leaning around it, the door was right where it had been before. The hallway hadn’t extended at all. The spell put a mirror in the way. Had she not been invisible, she probably would have seen herself.

With a deep breath, she walked into the mirror.

The world dimmed, becoming saturated like an old film. Not quite black and white, but much of the color bled out of her surroundings. The door reappeared in front of her and, looking back, she saw the hallway just as it had been before she stepped into the mirror. So far, everything seemed to be working.

Image, she thought. Stepping to the side, she found a copy of herself frozen in the air where she stood, posed exactly how she had been when she thought. Thinking it again created a second copy of herself, this time standing to the side and staring at the first. Moving around, she could pass through herself without any resistance, as if they weren’t actually there. It almost made her nauseous, reaching out to touch her own face only for her hand to pass right through her cheek. She had already seen Kasita take on her form more than once and that was bad enough. At least Kasita had substance. Looking at her clones, they were just empty. Vacant in being and utterly still.

Alyssa pulled herself together with a shake of her head. She had to focus. According to the spell’s description, it would only create three copies. Three again. But no time to muse over that magic number at the moment. She had already wasted at least thirty seconds. The card hadn’t mentioned a time limit and most spells she had used didn’t wear off until she slept, but that was no reason to assume the same would hold true in every case.

Taking a step to the side, she thought it again. Image. Simple as that. As soon as she thought it, another copy of herself shimmered in her place, overlaying her form. She quickly moved out of her image, standing aside. Three of herself. Or four if she included her actual self. Hopefully that would be enough.

Turning back to the door, she took a deep breath and pulled it open.

What lay beyond was a small room, circular in design. A single chair sat in the very center, out in the open. Brown spots of dried blood littered the floor around it. Barred cells had been carved out of the curved wall, one every few paces with a thick wall between each. Bacco huddled in the back corner of one, lying directly on the floor—there were no beds or seats, just a small bucket.

Alyssa’s double—Kasita—stood behind the bars of the cell directly opposite of Bacco. She had her arms crossed as she stared out of the bars with a smug look on her face. The Taker stood on the other side of her cell.

He wasn’t looking at his latest captive.

In the short few seconds it took Alyssa to process the room’s layout, he had reached into his trench coat and pulled out a black knife. A flick of his wrist sent it across the room.

And straight into Alyssa’s stomach.

She stumbled back, letting out a sharp cry of pain.

It hurt.

A lot.

She had been hurt before. A new kitten when she was younger that hadn’t enjoyed her abundant affection, a fall from her bicycle that still left a black scar on her knee, she had even broken a finger one time while messing about on monkey bars. She regularly got slivers, cuts, and scrapes at her job—her old job at the home improvement store back on Earth.

But this… this was different.

A knife was sticking out of her stomach!

“Well, well. Bringing a friend? Looks like you aren’t the fool I took you for. Your friend, however, is.” The Taker stepped away from the bars, moving closer. “Is that you under that shroud, Tzheitza? No. She would know better than to stand in one spot after opening a door.”

Alyssa barely paid attention to his words. She had a dagger in her stomach. A dagger in her stomach! Her skin burned where the metal touched her, but deeper inside, she felt cold ice spreading through her veins. Grazing her fingers over the hilt sent jolts through her body. Gritting her teeth together, she tried pulling it out. Alyssa screamed again. Trying to pull it felt like she was trying to pull her insides out.

Blinking away a glaze of tears over her eyes, she tried again.

Only to cry out as a second dagger sheered clean through her wrist. The tip, poking out of her skin, started growing. Icy tendrils spread away from the black metal, wrapping around and inside her arm.

“Drop the shroud, interloper,” the Taker said. He stayed back, half behind the chair in the room as if it might work as a shield, but the two daggers in his hands showed he was more than ready to continue the offensive. “You have until the count of five. One.”

Alyssa grit her teeth together. Rather than try to pull the knives out, she drew her pistol.

“Two.”

Aiming wasn’t easy. The gun felt heavier than normal. It wavered back and forth no matter how much she tried to steady it.

“Three.” The Taker flicked his wrist early, just as she squeezed the trigger. But her shot went wide, not even coming close enough to make him flinch. On the other hand, his dagger sailed across the room, cutting through the air on a collision course with Alyssa’s face.

She pinched her eyes shut.

Recede.


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Author’s Note: Just a Top Web Fiction vote reminder! Thanks everyone!

011.004

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Freedom of Choice

Contract


“This is it,” she said, holding out a card. One of Irulon’s spells—or a copy of it that Alyssa had made. The spell, Contract, seemed useful. More than that, Alyssa wanted to keep a record of as many spells as possible. The more tools in her possession, the better off she would be, or so her logic went. Especially because her existing tools wouldn’t last forever. They could run out of uses or get damaged. It was almost assured that they would become useless sooner rather than later. “Contract. Take me to Bacco.”

“No.”

“What!” she said, acting shocked. Her hand drifted toward her pistol, but Cid’s lack of hostilities made her hesitate. “You agreed. That’s the whole reason we let you out.”

“You must think I’m a fool. Take you to Bacco?” Cid shook his head. “And what if he’s been moved or killed, your little spell will kill me!”

“Well, yes. That is the point of it. I’m not just going to blindly follow you wherever you want to go. Either agree to the contract or I’ll dump your unconscious body in front of Oxart’s tent.” She didn’t actually have a spell that induced unconsciousness, but the potion master should still be watching from not too far away, along with a guild knight she had convinced to come with—on some bargain about that upcoming fairy job. If she whistled, they would jump in to assist.

“I don’t want to die. So how about this: I’ll take you to where Bacco and I were being held. That should be possible. If Bacco isn’t there, I don’t die.”

She pressed her lips together, acting as if she needed to think it over. The spell was limited. Too limited, in fact. It would force him to complete a single simple task. The more caveats added, the higher chance the spell would fail. That was as far as Irulon’s description went. It didn’t say exactly how the spell would fail. Maybe it would explode. Maybe it would kill Cid. Maybe it wouldn’t enforce the task at all. Regardless of the how, none of the outcomes for failure could be beneficial.

Really, if she had been in charge of spell names, she would have called it Agreement or something. Contract felt too large for how simple the terms had to be. But who was she to decide what all the foolish humans called their stupid little spells.

Frowning, she pretended to think over his words. In truth, this possibility had already come up. If Bacco had moved, Cid would die. The real question was whether his proposed change was alright or not. She wished that she didn’t have to make this decision, but Cid didn’t know that she was being followed by anyone else. Revealing that little secret so early would make the whole charade pointless.

She wished she could just tell him not to lead her into any ambushes, but they were about to walk down Waters Street at night. A random mugger popping out of the shadows could kill Cid before he had a chance to bring her to the Taker. Unfortunately, she couldn’t think up anything better that didn’t also have too many clauses added on. Nothing that was both simple and wouldn’t have a chance at just randomly killing Cid. “Fine,” she said, holding the card up once again. “Contract. Take me to where Cid and Bacco were being held.”

“Agreed,” he said, showing off his teeth.

As soon as he spoke, the spell activated. It was a novelty experience, watching the card in her hand vanish only to be replaced with a cloud of greenish-black smoke. It lashed out at Cid, leaping from her fingertips to his chest where it snaked up to his neck. There, it wrapped around, coiled tightly just under his chin like a snake.

He tried to tug at it, smile completely gone, but his fingers passed right through it. “Unnerving a bit,” he said with a strained chuckle. “Let’s go then. Don’t want this thing on me longer than needed.”

“Right. But I’m going to be hanging back a bit.” With the contract in place, he couldn’t lead her to some prearranged trap unless said trap was at whatever holding pen he had been kept in. The theory was that, since he hadn’t seen any of his old gang mates since finding Alyssa, he wouldn’t have time to arrange alternate ambush points. Moreover, since the wording of the contract included both him and Bacco, it lent credence to his story that they had both been captured. Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to lead her to where they had been held and would have essentially just signed his own death warrant.

“Shall we get going then?”

“Sure thing, boss. But you fall too far behind and I’ll pick you up and haul you there over my shoulder. I’ll fight and claw to get you there now.”

She nodded, not arguing. She would do the same were their positions reversed. Or rather, she would never have agreed to a contract like this in the first place. Too much relied on the other person. “I won’t let you get out of my sight.”

Waving her hand in dismissal, Cid started walking down the street. His moves were hesitant at first, slow and sordid with several glances back. Each time, she just waved and gestured for him to continue on. He got more nervous the further he got, almost constantly looking over his shoulder. It wasn’t until she actually started following him that he calmed down.

Waters Street was far creepier in the dark than it had any right to be. Did it even count as a street? It was more like one long alley that wound back and forth at random intervals. Its dirt road, which was partially mud at the moment thanks to the recent rain, wasn’t perfectly even. Stepping into even a shallow hole where she expected ground tickled at her nerves. The very same buildings that gave the street its run-down appearance during the day gave it a haunting aura once night fell. With the amount of deaths she knew had occurred both on the streets and inside those buildings, she wouldn’t be surprised to find a specter jumping out at her.

But still, she continued on. A ghost wouldn’t be able to hurt her. Slightly more worrisome was the simple fact that this street was the home of a gang. While most humans capable of magic tended to find respectable jobs that could make use of their talents, the gang had managed to snag a few with promises of riches, drugs, whores, revenge, or all manner of other things they might want. And magic did frighten her. Some magic, anyway. When directed at her.

It was a small comfort that those shadows moving in the sides of her vision would probably be men jumping out with swords rather than spells. The movement was probably just her imagination; She had an innate sense for everything around her and there weren’t any people out tonight aside from those she expected to be out. Especially not after that whole troll attack. Waters Street was close enough to the breached sections to have had to deal with a few invaders. Everyone would have been frightened into their homes for a while after that.

Clutching the weapon in her hands, she wondered how the stories might have spread through the gang of when Alyssa had killed Svotty. Its presence alone might be enough to ward off anyone actually hiding in the shadows.

Cid walked along those shadows, keeping close to the wall and out of the light as he moved. Disgusting scum of the human race or not, he was good at keeping stealthy. Even straining from not far away, hearing his footsteps against the utter silence of the city night was nearly impossible. His shoes, ratty though they looked, were soft enough on the bottom to prevent noise. Somehow, he managed to avoid tripping over a wicker basket left out in front of a boarded up building that she just about kicked down the street despite trying to keep aware of the surroundings.

The shifty rat scampered along, pausing every so often while looking around.

She followed along, keeping her eyes peeled for any assassins or this Taker. The Contract spell was in place and active, but it would be foolish in the extreme to blindly trust that something about it hadn’t gone wrong.

Similarly, Alyssa didn’t trust their destination. Leading them right to where Cid and Bacco had been held? Like some sort of makeshift prison? What were they going to do, prance right in? There had to be guards. And the Taker as well. No matter how much Cid thought Alyssa needed to fight this guy up close and personal in front of a crowd, Alyssa wanted that to be the absolute last resort.

Cid glanced over his shoulder one more time, ensuring she was still there, before turning a corner.

She glanced over her own shoulder, looking for any of the ones who were supposed to be following her. There was nothing but the dark street. Ah well, she was sure that at least one had eyes on her. With a shrug, she walked around as well.

They passed right by the Waters Street Waterhole. Light could be seen through the cracks of its blocked up windows. A hint of smoke seeped out as well. Apparently it was back in business. The foolish humans hadn’t escaped when the opportunity presented itself. She wasn’t about to feel bad for them. Maybe she would stop by in the future and see if any new monsters had been kidnapped and enslaved.

For now, she stayed a dozen paces behind Cid as they moved on.

It didn’t take much longer before Cid slowed to a stop. The building he stopped in front of was a smaller affair. Likely having only a single room, as most homes did in this section of the city. Its size wasn’t all that strange. The shutters blocking off the windows and door were some cause for concern. Why would Cid have stopped in front of a plague house? A recently infected house at that. The metal shutters only kept it blocked off for two weeks before the city removed them to be replaced with less secure wooden boards or bricks. Theoretically, the plague died off after two weeks without living hosts. Most people left the homes boarded up for months and months, if the buildings ever reopened.

The plague had been quite a cause for concern back at the Waterhole. There had been heavy screening for the telltale sores around the mouth, bumps on the forehead, and the eyes of course. Such people tended to disappear quickly.

After a quick glance around the dark street—locking eyes as he looked in her direction—Cid walked right up to the metal shutter over the door. He did something, obstructed by his body, and swung open the shutter! That wasn’t how they worked. They braced against the door frame and needed a special tool to remove. Or they should have required that. But Cid just pressed it open and stepped into the darkened interior.

She hesitated. They had been expecting a larger manor. Or at least a building like the Waterhole. A tiny room might as well be a tiny tomb. Unless the potion master had something to turn herself invisible like that other spell Alyssa had, they wouldn’t be able to enter without being seen by Cid at the very least. On the other hand, there weren’t any guards around. Maybe this wasn’t the main headquarters of the Waters Street gang.

“I guess I’ll follow him?” she said aloud, though quiet. Nothing argued against the idea, so she shrugged and slid up along the nearby buildings until she reached the entrance. Cid hadn’t closed it behind him, but there were no lights on inside. Aside from his legs, still standing in the doorway and catching the dismal light of the stars, she couldn’t see anything.

Deciding to act nervous, she held the long weapon right up to her shoulder as she slowed to a crawl. It had the slight side effect of making Cid jump further inside and out of the doorway. His slight squeal broke the silence that had hung over the entire street since the Contract spell had wrapped itself around his neck.

“Quiet,” she hissed, stepping into the room. Cid was back against one wall. With him well away from being able to close the door, she stepped further inside to keep the way clear. “Do you want to get heard?”

“Don’t point that thing at me!”

Rolling her eyes, she complied, looking around the room. The darkness didn’t help, but she had a near innate sense of nearby objects. Or, in this case, a sense of no objects. The room was… empty. There was no other word to describe it. A normal plague home looked just like a regular home. When the city guards put up shutters, they didn’t remove any of the furniture, belongings, or people. So there should have been a bed, maybe a chair and table, and a corpse if the plague-carrier hadn’t been taken outside the home.

But there was nothing. It was an empty cube, save for herself and Cid. No bed. No table. No emaciated corpse. No vermin.

All of which she found highly suspicious. “What is this place?”

“One of the gang’s holdouts. Not used too much anymore because of its location on Waters Street, but there are still some people keeping it running. Mostly, it’s used as a storehouse and a place to keep slaves on their way to or from the Waterhole.”

“This is a storehouse?” The place was empty. Even if it had been cleared out not too long ago, it couldn’t store much just because of its size. He must have been mistaken. Clearly, he had been sampling some of Svotty’s drugs and his poor addled mind couldn’t take it. Glancing over to him, she frowned as she failed to catch any glisten in the dark of brain juice dribbling out of his ears.

No such luck.

Instead of leaking cerebral fluids all over the floor, he pressed his foot into a small notch in the wall. A barely audible click followed, but nothing else. Not until he walked over to the far corner, dug his fingers into the dirt floor, and hefted up a long hatch. Light flooded into the room. Not much, but enough to see colors again. The hatch opened up fully on hinges, though the dirt on top didn’t slide off the wood, revealing a narrow stairwell.

Now things made sense. His mind wasn’t mush. At least not enough to mistake an empty plague house for a storehouse. Still, she had been in far more welcoming subterranean dwellings than this. The stairs, carved right out of the dirt and stone, looked like they might crumble under any significant weight. Not a big problem for her, but she couldn’t see how Cid’s larger companion could make his way up and down. Maybe there was a secondary entrance elsewhere.

“Shut the door,” he said. “Don’t want to tip anyone off that we’ve come in.”

That actually made her hesitate. While she was certain that the others had watched her enter the home, there might be a trick to opening it like there was for the hatch. And if he closed the hatch, even if they got in, they wouldn’t be able to easily find the stairs.

Something brushed against her elbow. Just a light touch of air. A bit drafty with the hatch opened? Or…

“Alright,” she said with a shrug. “If you think that’s a good idea.”

“I do,” Cid said with a grumble. “Should have closed it before I opened the passage. Now close it and get over here—err… if you please.”

“Sure thing.” The metal shutters were real, even if they had been modified into a door rather than the door-blocker that they were supposed to be. As such, the door wasn’t exactly light. She had to throw her whole weight behind it just to get it moving. Once it was moving, closing it wasn’t all that bad. The latch fell into place, securing the metal door. Pushing and pulling against it did nothing. It was well and truly locked. “Phew.”

Cid cocked his head to the side. “You alright?”

“Fine. Fine. Just fine. It’s down here then, is it? How much farther after that?”

He eyed her for a moment, staring. Whatever he was looking for, he apparently didn’t find. With a shake of his head, Cid said, “Not far. There’s a small hallway and a short drop before we’ll find the cells.”

“Good. Lead the way.”

With one last look to her, he started descending the stairs. Taking care not to misstep on the narrow ledges, she went down after him, though she moved at a nice languid pace, putting just a little distance between them. When he inevitably ran into some guard, she would have at least a little warning. Though the distance didn’t matter when he stopped to wait at the bottom of the stairs. As soon as she joined him, he pulled a large lever sticking out of the wall. The hatch door creaked closed behind them, but shut softly without making a loud bang as the wood connected with the frame.

“Fancy. Elven engineering?”

“Yeah. One of the slaves a few years back.” He let out a slight snort before nodding his head down the hall. “Come on.”

The hall didn’t deserve to be called as such. It was more of a hastily dug out passage. Two people couldn’t walk side by side comfortably. Alyssa was a bit on the taller side of things, though not giantess size. Her head didn’t hit the ceiling because of that, but it was a near thing. Cid was actually having to duck. She couldn’t even imagine how Bacco made it through without being dragged along the floor.

Which he might have been for all she knew.

The passage had rocky walls and a rocky ceiling. No smooth faces so typical of elvish work. They must have had the elf do the door mechanisms and had humans working on the tunnel itself. The floor was somewhat smooth, though not thanks to any craftsmanship. The dirt and rock had worn from use. It actually made her wonder how tall the passage had originally been before all the floor compression and wear.

Little brass candle holders stuck out of the wall at regular intervals. Though they didn’t actually have candles placed atop them. Maybe at one point in time, they would have had candles. Now they had jars of liquid light, keeping the hallway lit.

“How long does this passage go on for?”

Cid paused and turned around. “Actually, it goes all the way back to the Waterhole, though we’re not going that far.”

“Ufu~ Does it now? I’ll have to remember that. But how far are we going?”

He hummed, turning back the way he had been heading. This time, he wasn’t looking straight ahead. He kept glancing between the wall and the ceiling. She followed along as he moved forward another ten paces. Then he made a little noise of epiphany. “It should be right… around… here.”

“Here?” Nothing around them looked any different than it had ten paces back. She couldn’t spot any markings on the ceiling. Though the passage did darken further ahead. Someone must have taken the lights. Or maybe they just hadn’t done maintenance on the tunnel in a while. The lights that were around were not at their brightest.

“Yep.” He put his hand on the nearest candle holder and glanced between her and the ceiling again. “You, uh, might want to take about three steps back.”

Complying, she looked around again. Right above her, a small cross had been scratched into the ceiling. “Here?”

“Perfect.” He yanked on the candlestick, sending another loud click into the air.

While her eyes were on the ceiling, the floor dropped out from under her. Air rushed past as she began falling. Her last sight was of Cid’s foul grin before she fell into a black pit.


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011.003

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Freedom of Choice

Helpless to Help


“You aren’t leaving it to him. That would be foolish in the extreme.”

Alyssa blinked, not having expected a response, she momentarily struggled to form a proper sentence. “I have to do something. I can’t just stand around waiting. The deadline is tonight, according to Cid. If I haven’t taken action, then I’ll be the one who… has action taken against her?” That didn’t quite come out right, but she shook her head. The meaning got across. That was all that mattered.

“Which is why you have come to me.”

“Yeah.” Honestly, Alyssa hadn’t thought the princess had been listening to the story. The whole time she had been telling her story, Irulon had sat hunched over three books, writing down spells in a fourth. The younger woman had hardly looked up since Alyssa entered the room. Only to call her over and to cast a quick spell.

Apparently, clearing out the whole of the library was a one time thing. Just like the first time Alyssa had been in the Observatorium, other students meandered about the books for their own studies and research. Many, many of them had their eyes on the princess. For the second time, they were watching someone breach Irulon’s bubble of personal space. Not only that, but that someone was engaged in a heavy conversation.

Though this time, the bubble was a little more literal. As soon as Alyssa had sat down, Irulon cast a spell. Another Fractal spell simply called Alternate Visage. Shards of glass surrounded them just like Fractal Mirror. Much larger shards than the other spell, but similar nonetheless. They differed in what they displayed. Namely, nothing at all. Alyssa could see right through them, only aware that the spell was active thanks to the occasional glimmers of light that caught on the edges of the shards. She shifted under the gaze of a young man with far too many rings on to be tasteful.

But his eyes slid right over her, tracking some other movement. He couldn’t see her.

Not this her, anyway.

Alternate Visage created a… Irulon’s explanation had been far too technical. Just thinking about it made her head hurt. Basically, everyone outside the bubble was seeing a conversation that could have been. Something far more innocuous than what they were actually talking about. Maybe they were talking about simple magic. Maybe they were discussing how their weekends had been. Whatever everyone else was seeing, neither Alyssa nor even Irulon knew what it was. Which wouldn’t have been much use if people were listening in and later asked them about it, but Alyssa had no intentions of interacting with the people in the Observatorium. Given the permanent bubble of personal space around her, Irulon likely wouldn’t either.

Alyssa shuddered. Watching everyone look at her but not quite her was just weird. Hopefully whatever was happening wasn’t embarrassing. There wasn’t much point in getting embarrassed in front of strangers who she would likely never see again—that was her general philosophy any time she did something foolish at a store or restaurant. But if she was coming to the Observatorium on any kind of regular basis, she might actually have to interact with some of those people.

A scraping sound pulled her attention back to where the princess was cleaning off the tip of her pen. She was meticulous in her care, first using a cloth to ensure that not a spot of ink remained before scraping the metal tip of the fountain pen on a stone to sharpen it. To Alyssa, it seemed a sharp tip would just punch right through any paper, but she really didn’t know anything about writing with a fountain pen and the princess surely did. After a bit of polishing, the princess finally finished by setting the pen into a gemstone-studded case. The sight of it almost made Alyssa laugh. It looked just like a case she had owned back in elementary school, except her case had those little adhesive-backed plastic jewels instead of being worth ten fortunes.

Stifling her smile, Alyssa looked up to Irulon. “So you’ll help then?”

“Hm. I’d like to. I can’t.”

“What? Why? I mean, I’m not expecting you personally to go fight this guy, but you’re the princess. Can’t you just order the city guard to…”

“To go and destroy Waters Street. Unfortunately, that is impossible. Save for defense of the city and the kingdom, the army cannot be mobilized without the consent of the Council of Nobles. A stuffy group. Mostly unpleasant,” she said with a mild glare around the room. The glare vanished quick enough, replaced with her overly polite smile. “While Lyria supplies a bulk of the army’s personnel, the majority are actually supplied from the nobles. They train and outfit soldiers in their own territories, a large portion of which congregate under the banner of Lyria. It reduces the individual strength of each territory to strengthen the nation as a whole, most of the soldiers wind up either at the Fortress of Pandora or at the various outposts throughout the land.”

Alyssa blinked, remaining silent as she took a moment to absorb the facts. Guardsman Ipo had mentioned something about the guard being unable to be deployed rapidly. And something about nobles. But that had been a week ago, a lot had happened in the time since, and she really had other things on her mind at the time. “So you can’t send the soldiers because they’re mostly owned by nobles. And you can’t convince the nobles?”

“In a single afternoon? Not even if half of them weren’t corrupt. I suspect that some are paid off by the gang itself. Several others might even have closer working relations.”

Ugh. Maybe help taking down the whole gang was a bit too much to expect. Police in her world would have probably taken her into protective custody or given her a guard detail, both concepts that, even if they were familiar to this world, Alyssa didn’t really want around her if she could help it. But police would almost certainly not have charged into gang controlled buildings on a moment’s notice. There would be research and investigations… and a hundred miles of red tape.

“What about the Black Prince,” Alyssa said as the thought occurred to her. “I saw him cut through trolls like they were made of butter. He can at least get this Taker guy, can’t he?”

“You saw him. You were outside the wall.” Irulon’s pale eyes flicked over Alyssa, moving from her shoulders down to her hips then back up to her face. “Interesting.”

“Huh?” Alyssa shifted slightly, feeling far more self-conscious about that casual comment that she might have otherwise been. It didn’t help that the princess was back to her serene smile. As if she knew something that no one else did.

“My brother could deal with the Taker without a doubt. If he couldn’t, I would have to disown him.”

“Then…”

“In addition to the logistics of sending people out to take care of the problem, there is one more issue concerning anyone in authority taking action. Especially my brother.”

Alyssa just sighed and waited for the explanation that was sure to come.

Irulon stood up, walked around the table without leaving the bubble of Fractal magic, and sat against the table’s edge. Looking down at Alyssa, she tilted her head ever so slightly. “You mentioned rescuing some people from this brothel. Merchandise, your malefactor friend called them.”

“First, he isn’t my friend. Second, I thought malefactor was some potionspeak thing. Third… that is correct. There were four people who left when I did. Apparently another few left after.”

“People, you say again.”

“Yeah,” Alyssa said slowly, drawing out the word. This line of discussion wasn’t exactly heading in a direction that she was comfortable with.

That discomfort only increased as Irulon’s polite smile turned almost hungry. “Human slaves are illegal under my father’s laws. But they aren’t all that valuable. After all, humans are extremely common around these parts,” she said with a slight gesture around the room. “Certainly not valuable enough to get the Taker on your tail. I know his reputation—I’ve actually collected a number of examples he has made of his enemies. Many bodies wind up on the streets, all showing clear signs of torture or worse as a warning. Every one of them utterly fascinating. One man had his spine torn out without killing him. I had quite a lot of fun figuring out how.”

Her smile never wavered, sending chills down Alyssa’s spine. And she wasn’t even sure who she was shuddering at, the Taker or Irulon.

“No. You did something else. Either you stole something of significant value or… those people were far harder to acquire than your average humans.”

“I stole a bag full of coins,” Alyssa said. “It had several altus and a decent assortment of the smaller denominations.”

“Hm. At least one elf. Then… a harpy?” Alyssa didn’t say a word but Irulon shook her head. “No. Not a harpy. Then what? It must be races appealing for a brothel yet still suitably exotic to draw in patrons. No trolls or mountain giants. The ant people? No—”

“Alright! Just stop. It was an elf, a mimic, a bee-like thing, and some lizard woman. I don’t know what their races’ proper names are.”

“A lizard? Green scales or red?”

“Red.”

“Hm. No wonder they set the Taker on you.”

Alyssa slumped in her chair with a sigh. “Is that rare or something?”

“Let me put it this way. That salamander is probably the only one north of the Fortress of Pandora. And… Ah. You were outside the wall the night of the siege. You released them there and got caught up in events. I read the reports after our last meeting. You might be pleased to know that only trolls, goblins, and a single fairy were among the monstrous casualties. The monsters you rescued escaped.”

“Great. So you’re going to have me arrested now or something?”

“I should. But no. Your value to me decreases substantially if you are trapped in a cell. So long as word is kept quiet, I do not have to act. Which is why my brother cannot act in your defense. If he showed up to kill the Taker, those corrupt nobles I mentioned earlier would almost certainly raise the issue that the royal family acted in the defense of someone who freed monsters and set them loose, even though he would also be killing a known killer. It would not be a pleasant experience. Especially for me and my brother. We would likely be disowned immediately and charged as traitors to humanity. My brother is already on rocky shores with his draken.”

Slumping forward and letting her head rest on the table, Alyssa let out another long sigh. This whole thing had been a waste of time. She should have been helping Tzheitza make potions or finding other allies at the guild. Even if Cid insisted that she had to do this herself in order to convince the gang that she was a legitimate threat, having a significant number of friends she could count on would probably work as well.

“Well, thanks for your time and sorry for wasting it, I guess.” No sense not being polite. Alyssa had no intentions of dying no matter what happened. Burning a bridge just because the princess couldn’t help her in this situation would only result in pain later on. “I suppose I better go make preparations.”

“Leaving so soon? Surely you’ll accept my gift first.”

“Gift?”

Irulon flashed her most polite smile before moving back around the table. “I am aware that your spell library is… lacking.”

Alyssa wasn’t so sure about that. She had Bercilak’s deck of cards. Though she had only identified a handful of the spells. It seemed quite versatile, having spells like the fireball and the chains, good for both offense and defense. Honestly, she still wasn’t sure what she thought of magic. Her shotgun seemed far more reliable. Still, she wasn’t about to argue against the princess. Not if she was about to give something away.

The princess picked up her tome, still open to the very page she had been writing out while Alyssa had been telling her story, and plucked the page from its bindings. It was much larger than the spell tome chained to her waist. More of a research notebook. Flipping it over for Alyssa to see, she placed it on the table. Four spells were drawn on the front. No two were the same.

“Just a few items I thought might help with your issue.”

“You drew these out for me? For this specific situation? How? You started working on them before I even told you what was going on.”

“When you walked in, I noticed differences between today and both other times. You displayed traditional characteristics of fear. Dilated pupils. A sheen of sweat gracing your arms and face. Worry and despair once you looked around and noticed the other students. Occasional glances behind you, clearly afraid of being followed. That is when I started. Early on, you mentioned the Waters Street gang. From there, it wasn’t difficult to ascertain your problem. Most of your story was entirely superfluous.”

“Well, thanks for letting me waste all my breath,” Alyssa mumbled.

“It gave you something to do while I was working,” she said with such a natural smile that Alyssa was almost ashamed for having commented. “Besides, it is always best to have more information. You could have said something that would have changed my selection of spells entirely. You didn’t, but the possibility was there.”

“I could have helped draw cards at least.”

“Watching you do so last time was physically painful for me. I would hate to have you arrested for assaulting me.”

Alyssa narrowed her eyes at the princess’ bright smile, but didn’t say anything. Arguing with Irulon just wasn’t worth it. Instead, she looked down at the sheet of cards. The spells were all on the same piece of paper—or parchment or whatever these people used. But Irulon quickly solved that issue by drawing a small jeweled knife from somewhere on her tight dress. Its blade split the spells apart without her even needing to press hard. The edge was just that sharp. In short order, the four spells were all on their own cards.

None of which, Alyssa noted, she had ever seen before.

“What do they all do?”

Rather than respond verbally, Irulon reached out and flipped one of the cards over.

 

Empty Mirror.

Invisibility spell. Works by wrapping you in a fractal field, showing anyone looking in your direction what the world would look like if you didn’t exist.

 

“It is a bit more complex than that, but this is far more effective than an illusion variant for going unnoticed.”

Alyssa couldn’t help but frown at one word in the description and another word in the title. “This isn’t like that Fractal Mirror spell, is it?”

“Ah hah, ah no.” Irulon’s laugh sounded both stiff and sarcastic. It gave Alyssa the impression that she didn’t laugh all that often and probably hadn’t laughed just now. “It is only Rank Four and should be significantly less intense and less draining just because of that. Moreover, it shows you nothing but the world around you, rather like this spell we’re under right now,” she said with a wave of her hand around the shimmering barriers.

“That’s good. I think I can handle that.” The bubble they were under didn’t bother her at all. It was like looking out of a window, if said window had some cracks in it. And was moving around. And there were a lot of them. Even if it was a little distracting, it was nothing like seeing an infinite number of herself, all doing different things.

“You will be able to interact with things outside the shroud as well, so keep that in mind. Don’t go bumping into anyone you don’t want alerted to your presence.” Irulon flipped over the rest of the cards one after another, not stopping to explain any. Each had a title and a short description underneath. The spells were divided between Fractal and Death magic, two of each. “You can look them over on your own time. All of them should be self explanatory. None of them are higher than Rank Five, so you shouldn’t have an issue casting them.” As she spoke, she stacked them all up into a single deck and held it out to Alyssa.

“Thank you,” Alyssa said, accepting the cards. She still wasn’t sure that she was going to use them over her shotgun—it was somewhat depressing how quickly she had resigned herself to having to kill yet another person. Invisibility sounded nice. She could just sneak up and shoot him in the back of the head. But Cid seemed to think that she needed to fight him in the open in order to get the gang off her back.

Ugh. What a mess.


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Author’s Note: Just a reminder to vote on TWF!

011.002

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Freedom of Choice

Gathering Storm


Rainwater dripped down the windows of Tzheitza’s potion shop. It wasn’t her first time seeing rain in this new world. One night while traveling to Lyria, she had needed to pitch her tent early. Thankfully, the tent was water proof and kept her and everything she carried dry, though packing it up in the morning hadn’t been all that comfortable. But it had only rained that one evening, providing ample time for her tent to dry over the next night.

Still, it was somewhat nostalgic. When younger, she and her brother had always sat on his bed during any kind of storm. Its head had been directly under the window, so they put their feet on the pillow and their heads at the opposite end. Lightning, as a child, had been awe inspiring to watch. Even heavy storms were fun. Whiskers had always freaked out in big storms. Poor old cat. He had passed away just a few years ago.

A crack of thunder rattled the windows. Alyssa blinked in shock before shaking her head. Earth felt so far away. But she couldn’t afford to get caught up in a reverie. To dwell in the past, to dwell on home, was to get stuck. Alyssa had to set out clear goals for her own sanity’s sake. Whether those be simple—survive the evening camping, get to Lyria, find a clean source of water—or more long term, such as getting home without angels interfering. Her current goal was to get this gang off her back.

“Tenebrael’s all madlike today,” Tzheitza said as another wave of thunder rolled over the shop.

With a suppressed scoff, Alyssa turned to correct the potioneer, only to hesitate. She had taken high school physics. She knew all about the buildup of static electricity in clouds until it became too large, discharging downward in a bolt of lightning that increased pressure and temperature in the air, causing the crack. But she thought about it for a moment. Tenebrael making lightning… actually wasn’t all that implausible. Iosefael could easily have said something to anger the dark angel. Given that this was her world, it probably wouldn’t be too difficult for Tenebrael to make rain and lightning. This could just be a little temper tantrum.

“Yeah,” was all Alyssa ended up with.

“Could be good for yeh. A blessin’ if she’s angry about the gang.”

Now that was extremely doubtful. While Alyssa could see Tenebrael getting upset about something and having a fit, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that the demonic angel apparently in charge of this world did not care in the slightest for its denizens. She didn’t care if they worshiped her or ignored her, if they sold humans—or monsters—as slaves or if they were the greatest saint to grace the world.

But that was something that Alyssa couldn’t say no matter what. Maybe to Kasita. Not to Tzheitza. “What did you do with Cid?” she asked instead. A glance to the door showed the black fog still blocking out view of the little cubicle. He hadn’t left.

“Sleepin’ for now,” Tzheitza said with a casual shrug. Which might have explained why she had wanted Alyssa to leave the room. Given that forcing him to drink one of the potions probably wouldn’t have gone over so well, she had probably used some sort of gaseous potion. Or maybe she had simply told him to drink or get his fingernails pulled off. “Don’t wanna see the haberin malefactor runnin’ about before we decide what to do about him.”

“Right.”

As it turned out, all those torture tools had been purely for show. Tzheitza had never used a single one of them. Every question asked of Cid got an answer straight away. Sometimes those answers had been obviously embellished… or the inverse when it came to his part in any unsavory events.

Waters Street was a large organization with no central leadership. They had their fingers in several illegal pies. Prostitution wasn’t illegal. Slavery was. At least for human slaves who weren’t branded heretics. Literally branded. With a hot iron. There were several varieties of narcotics that the royal family had declared hazardous to society. Then there were a bunch of run-of-the-mill crimes such as common burglary, arson, and protection payments. Apparently they had ties to some assassin’s guild as well, though Cid hadn’t known much about that. Thankfully.

They also took requests. If someone needed a disturbance or distraction to cover up other illicit affairs, they were the go-to group in the city. Maybe something like an evil mirror of the Knights Solaris.

When she had first heard that the gang was after her, Alyssa had to admit that a somewhat morbid thought had crossed her mind. Given her experience at the Waterhole, she had momentarily thought to take her shotgun and run down Waters Street, shooting everyone who looked like they might be part of a gang. Even if she hadn’t decided that doing so would be an absolutely horrendous idea, it simply wouldn’t be possible now.

The organization was simply too large.

Waters Street was merely where they had begun. Twenty years ago, they had been a small time crime group that just doled out illegal drugs in their brothel. In the years since, they had expanded throughout the city and even outside its walls. Which explained a lot about why the guards didn’t just raid the street. There wasn’t much left that was important. Just their namesake whorehouse.

According to Cid, they were even trying to change their name to get rid of even that connection. Waters Street was just too ingrained in people’s minds for it to easily disappear.

Even if Alyssa could find the three generally considered to be leaders of the gang even if it wasn’t official, a daunting task in and of itself, going to the extreme of killing them probably wouldn’t get everyone else to go away. Though there might be some infighting over a new leader, which would work to her advantage, but it was still an implausible option. Cid hadn’t seen any of them in person in at least five years.

“So, any suggestions?”

Tzheitza scoffed with a slight shake of her head. “Keep yer head down. Hire on a proper bodyguard—not Ozheim—and hope those slaves weren’t a haberin dolly cost.”

Ducking her head, Alyssa sighed. “I suppose you don’t want me putting your store in danger.” Losing a roof overhead would be a blow. Especially such a safe place where she could leave her gear while out doing other things. Even worse than that was losing the company. She might only be able to understand Tzheitza a third of the time, but having someone to talk to made the evenings pass much easier.

Kasita didn’t count. In some ways, Alyssa felt like she could be a little more open with the mimic. However there was one glaring issue. Kasita only showed herself when it suited her. Even now, despite having called out for her, she was probably disguised as one of those torture tools. She would pop up sometime soon with a giggle about how unfortunate the situation was.

“I’m not about to shunt yeh roundabouts. We fought together, saved my life, or close enough. That’s worth more than an occasional assassin. ‘Sides. Any who darken my doorway’ll radecomb before they can break a single bottle. I dare ‘em to try.”

“Right.” Well, that was one worry gone. “But I can’t just stay cooped up inside. You have potions that need delivering and I have my own matters to attend to. Sitting around doing nothing but cooking…” Would be standing still. Her goals would remain forever on the infinite horizon if she wasn’t moving toward them. Alyssa’s eyes hardened and her fingers clenched into tight fists. “No. I can’t remain stagnant. I need to—” Cutting herself off, she glanced to the darkened window, realizing that she had forgotten something. “Is it possible to wake him up right away.”

Tzheitza made a face. After a long moment of hesitation, she nodded her head. “One minute,” she said as she headed back behind the counter. In a flurry, just as Alyssa had seen her do whenever customers needed something, she started pulling jars off the shelves, removing items from drawers and cabinets, and setting out her measuring and grinding tools.

Habit nearly made Alyssa walk over to watch. But she realized that there wasn’t much point to it. Unless Tzheitza actually started teaching her, she would just be grinding up and mixing various items. There had to be recipes somewhere, but the shop was surprisingly light on literature.

So Alyssa turned back to face the rain-spattered window once again, just in time to watch the sky shift from evening to night. The shop was officially closed. It had been a slow day, at least for the parts where she had been present, but she flipped the latch on the door anyway. Just in case Oz came barging in.

Or gang assassins.

As it turned out, one minute was a drastic understatement. After nearly a half hour of preparing an orange slime, Tzheitza put a small tin of it over the fire. A smell quickly filled the room. Faint at first. It smelled like ammonia, but with a fruity bend to it. A little unpleasant, but not unbearably so.

Five minutes later had Alyssa pressing her sleeve over her face. The rank scent burned at her nose and windpipe, making her feel as if she had just swallowed a bottle of Tabasco sauce. None of the windows opened and even with the door unlatched and wide open, the overpowering stench was just too much for such a small place to handle. It was getting to the point where running outside was starting to look like a good option, thousands of assassins hiding in the shadows or not.

Tzheitza handled the smell in a far more stoic manner. Even as Alyssa coughed and gagged in the opposite corner of the room, she stood over the small tin, watching the boiling liquid without a single expression crossing her face. Every so often, she would add some black strings that didn’t help the smell at all.

It took another ten minutes of agony before Tzheitza pronounced the putrid potion complete. She slid a cap over the top of the tin, but that didn’t magically make the smell go away. “Hope yeh weren’t plannin’ on sleepin’ tonight,” she said as she carried the tin into Cid’s little cubicle.

Though wary of getting closer to the tin, Alyssa followed her. Waking up Cid had been her idea after all. She couldn’t just hang back. Despite the smell having fully leaked into the partitioned room, Cid remained fast asleep. His arms hung down off the sides of the chair as he lay slumped in it.

At least, he remained asleep right up until Tzheitza dipped a wooden dowel into the liquid then shoved it up his nose. Alyssa winced, unable to even comprehend how horrid that must be. Cid’s eyes snapped open. For just an instant, he looked around, confused. That didn’t last. He started rubbing at his nose as his panic visibly mounted. Finding nothing to wipe away, he actually started screaming.

Tzheitza took a glass of water and threw it in his face. That got his screaming to stop, but he doubled over coughing as most of the water had gone right down his open mouth. He sputtered, trying to get a breath of fresh air.

A small vestige of empathy welled up in Alyssa. Cid was scum. There wasn’t a doubt about that. But having even a thimble of that smell right up his nose was a torture far worse than the effect of any of the tools Tzheitza had out earlier.

Alyssa dropped her arm to her side, uncovering her face. Given how little a cloth in front of her mouth helped, it wasn’t that big of a loss. She tried to put on as impassive a look as Tzheitza, but highly doubted she was succeeding. Cid, being in as much agony as he looked like he was in, probably wouldn’t notice much.

“I forgot to ask,” she said as soon as his coughing died away. He wasn’t even looking at her, too busy shoving a bit of his vest up his nose. Absolutely disgusting, but Alyssa couldn’t say that she would be acting any different in his position. “When we met in the alley, you said that you could get the gang off my back. How? And how does it tie in to helping Bacco?”

She had almost forgotten his whole goal. He wanted her help to rescue Bacco. Presumably he had some sort of plan. Alyssa couldn’t think up any scenario where rescuing Bacco didn’t bring down even more heat on her head. Which, for all she knew, might well be Cid’s plan. Rescue Bacco, run away, and leave poor Alyssa to deal with the fallout.

Still, she needed to at least hear him out.

Though it looked like she might not be able to do so anytime soon.

“What did you do to me?” he shouted, still trying to scrape out the interior of his nose. Tears welled up in one eye on the same side of his face. “It feels like someone tore off half my skin. I think I’d prefer that!”

“Kendrik our own noses,” Tzheitza said with a glare. “Get over yerself.”

“Right,” Alyssa said with a hesitant nod of her head, not quite sure she wanted to agree with whatever that meant. “But answer my questions, Cid. Or I’ll dump the rest over your head. I can’t imagine it would be pleasant getting it in your eyes.”

“I think it’s already there, up my nose.” He scrunched his eye closed until he caught Alyssa glaring at him. With a hefty snort right onto his vest, he settled himself down. “It’s simple. We kill the Taker.”

To Alyssa’s side, Tzheitza shifted slightly and deepened her already intense scowl. It must have been something significant, but not to Alyssa. She still had to ask. “What is the Taker?”

Cid put on a pain-filled grin, showing off his unsightly dental care. “Who is the Taker. He is a man. A bogeyman.” He paused a moment, apparently unable to hold back a hacking cough.

Another monster? Or just a general term for a scary person? For the moment, Alyssa decided not to interrupt. She could ask Tzheitza or Kasita later.

“He is the reason the city guard leaves the Waters Street gang alone. He is the reason why, when the guards are forced to show some spine, the gaols are empty by morning. He has Bacco, he almost had me, and he’ll soon have you. Unless you do something about him. Kill him and the gang won’t touch you. You’ll have proved yourself scarier than the bogeyman.”

“Alright stop,” Alyssa said, changing her mind. This couldn’t wait until later. “Is he human or is bogeyman a type of monster that I haven’t heard of yet.”

Cid opened his mouth but Tzheitza beat him to answering. “A human,” she practically snarled. “A traitor.”

“Oh yeah, I bet you’d know him. Used to be in the guild,” he added as an aside to Alyssa. “Got a bit too bloodthirsty. He went an—”

“Gab yer gottermore yeh malefactor.”

“Ooh, a bit touchy are we? Sore subject?”

Tzheitza thrust a hand into her pocket and tore out a vial of silvery liquid. With an undignified squeal, Cid cowered back in his seat as much as he was able. Alyssa put a hand to Tzheitza’s arm before she could throw it, or whatever she had been planning on doing. The older woman, face bright red with anger, turned her ire to Alyssa just long enough to regain her composure. She took a deep breath, somehow managing without choking on the foul air, and slid the vial back into her pocket.

Once sure that there wouldn’t be any accidents, accidental or not, Alyssa addressed them both. “So he is just a human then.” That was good news. She hadn’t resolved herself to actually hunt and kill anyone, but at least a human wouldn’t be able to shrug off bullets like the trolls had the other night if she did end up deciding to take that option. Though it might not be necessary. Tzheitza looked about ready to rush off and take some rash actions. “I assume he isn’t just a regular Joe walking down the streets.”

“Regular? Ha. Rumor has it that he summons up demons just to drink their blood. Excepting the Black Prince himself, the Taker hasn’t got an equal in swordsmanship within Lyria. His spell work is top notch as well.”

That had Alyssa frowning. Not such good news there. She still had those fractal futures burned into her memories. Irulon was apparently one of a highly exclusive number of the most powerful arcanists in the city, so maybe this Taker wouldn’t be so tough, but Alyssa had tried to attack the princess in several of those infinite possibilities. Exceedingly few had succeeded.

“Do you have a plan?” Alyssa asked, still not committing.

“Do I have a plan,” Cid repeated with a raspy chuckle. Glancing over his shoulder, he opened his mouth to say something only to stop dead and turn back with a frown. “Yes, I have a plan. And it isn’t just to sneak in and assassinate him. That won’t impress anyone. You’ll have to fight him in front of people who can tell the story.”

That sounded even less appealing. But Tzheitza was nodding her head. “Makin’ ye all scarylike ought to work. And the Taker. One of the guild’s own. The haberin traitor worse than a rottymix…” Her words quickly became less intelligible as she started grumbling under her breath.

Alyssa hadn’t a clue what that meant, but it sounded distressingly like an agreement with Cid. “Great. Lovely.” Maybe she could ask for Irulon’s help. She did have a few cards from earlier in the day that might do some damage and she still had Bercilak’s deck of cards, which Irulon had tasked her with looking up on her own. Something about how it would be good to identify common spells based on their patterns. Really, she was probably just too lazy to look them over. “I’m going to need to know everything about this guy,” she said, glancing between the two. “What spells does he like to use, how does he like to fight, and so on.”

“I can say,” Tzheitza said. “I knew him.”

“Good.” Maybe Oz could help too. And the rest of the guild. If he was some traitor, taking him out might even be a job they would do on their own. “And you?” she said with a glance to Cid.

“Know him by reputation only. Never seen him in action. But I can take you to him. I know where Bacco is and he won’t be far away. Just leave everything to good old Cid.”

Which just got a groan from Alyssa.

“We shouldn’t wait too long. They’ll know I escaped by now. He’ll be hunting tomorrow night. Better to jump him early.” He tried to grin again only to scrunch up his face in pain. “As soon as my face stops feeling like it’s on fire! Agh! I think some ran down the back of my throat!”


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011.001

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Freedom of Choice

Intimidation Techniques


Tzheitza glared at Cid.

Which, if Alyssa was being honest, was exactly what she had expected. They hadn’t even made it inside the building and she could already see Tzheitza standing behind the counter, eying them. She had a customer standing on the other side of the counter, waiting for her to mix up some concoction that was likely pure charlatan nonsense like her earthworm balm. He had his back to them and hadn’t seen Cid yet. Not wanting him to make a scene, Alyssa dragged him off around the side of the building. There was a side entrance that led directly into the store rooms, but Tzheitza kept them locked and Alyssa didn’t have a key. Still, it was a good place to stash Cid for the moment.

“Stay here. Don’t go anywhere.” Alyssa started back toward the front, only to pause. “Or do. That would solve one of my problems.”

“I won’t move a muscle,” Cid said, flashing his dental horror show of a smile, though it wasn’t quite as glee filled as the ones she had seen on him when they first met. “Please hurry back.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Under other circumstances, she might have had reservations about leaving Cid right outside the place where she spent her nights. However, he had already mentioned knowing about the potion shop. If he had plans to break in and slit her throat in the middle of the night, he wouldn’t have needed to show up in person. Similarly, if he couldn’t get inside because of some protections over the shop that Alyssa didn’t know about, he would still be out of luck because there was no way that she would allow him to sleep in the same building as her. If he really needed a place to sleep, there was an alley not far from the potion shop that he could have. For some reason, she doubted it would be the first time he slept in an alley.

Moving back around to the front, Alyssa opened the door and walked right up to the counter. She gave the man a slight nod of her head. He was a fairly well-to-do sort, nothing like Cid at all, but not someone she had seen before. “Tzheitza,” she said with another nod to the potioneer behind the counter. “Almost finished with what you are doing?” Thankfully, she was weighing already crushed powder. That meant that she had to be nearly finished. Probably. At least, most of the times when Alyssa watched, the crushed powder on the scales meant the end. If it was going to take even a mild amount of time, she probably would have offered the customer a seat.

“With this?” She gestured to her brass scales as she added just a little more powder to one side. The needle on the scale didn’t move at all as far as Alyssa could tell, but it apparently satisfied Tzheitza. She locked the scales, picked up the plate of powder, and dumped it all into a larger mixing bowl. “Just about.” Taking a wire tool that resembled a kitchen whisk, she started stirring the powder, turning it into a thick paste.

Curious as to the actual process, Alyssa stood around watching for a moment as Tzheitza finished some final mixing. As soon as she finished mixing the powder with whatever else had been in the bowl, she grabbed it by hand and placed it on an empty spot on the counter. She used her hands to roll it into a long thin clay-like strip of medicine—or whatever it was. Once it was about the diameter of a pencil, and about as long as one, she placed it on top of a small wooden board set into the counter top with little metal grooves in it like some kind of washboard. The strip of medicinal clay went perpendicular to the grooves. Sandwiching the medicine with a handheld version of the board, Tzheitza grabbed the handles and started sliding it back and forth.

In no time at all, she pulled the handheld board off, revealing little balls of the medicine. About twenty in total. One for each groove. With a brush of her hand, they rolled down the grooves into a little removable receptacle, which she picked up and dumped the pills down the mouth of a glass bottle. She sealed it up with a stopper and held it out to the customer.

“One every morning after ye wake up. If yer rash ain’t fading away after half the bottle, come back and see me again.”

“Thank you Tzhei,” the man said, accepting the bottle with a shaking hand. He dug into a small leather pouch and pulled out a gold altus. Alyssa couldn’t help but raise her eyebrows at that. Most over-the-counter concoctions were considerably less expensive. Tzheitza didn’t even accept it right away, hesitating before reaching out to take it. “You’re a real life saver!”

“Yep,” Tzheitza said without conviction as she pocketed the gold piece. “Take care of yourself, Zhadoj.”

“Oh I will. I’m just glad you’re around for when I can’t.” He chuckled as he walked out, which Tzheitza weakly echoed. “I’ll see you soon!”

“I hope not,” Tzheitza mumbled as soon as the door closed behind him.

Alyssa, watching him walk off through the windows, asked, “Someone you know?”

“He comes in once a month with some new problem, constantly thinkin’ he’s about to die. Never anythin’ serious, but…”

“Huh. So hypochondriacs existed even back… now, I guess.”

Which was kind of odd to think about. While Tzheitza had that blue potion that literally fixed her broken bones just by pouring it on, the materials that went into creating it were extraordinarily rare. A potion maker had relatively easy enough access so that she had about three of those orbs in storage. Well, two and a half after using some that night. Most people were stuck healing naturally or visiting surgeons. Or chiurgeons, as Tzheitza called them. As far as Alyssa could tell, everything Tzheitza made for customers was all for the placebo effect. “Those pills you made were… nothing again?”

“Not this time.”

“Oh?” Well, maybe she was wrong. “What does it do?”

“It is a bulk-forming agent designed to clear the body of… everythin’.”

“Huh.” Alyssa wasn’t quite sure she got it. She hadn’t seen Tzheitza use something as barbaric as leeches, but this was ultimately a medieval society. With magic. Those pills could easily have been something terrible designed to send the taker into cold sweats and induce vomiting to try to ‘clear the body of everything’.

Alyssa just shook her head, deciding she didn’t want to know. “I need… help? Or maybe advice.”

“Yer askin’ the wrong woman.”

“What?”

“Relationship advice. Never been in one that hasn’t ended poorly. Yer gonna have to ask someone else about your boyfriend.”

“My boy—” Alyssa gagged, throwing up a bit in her mouth. “No. No. Absolutely not. That thing was not my boyfriend.”

“Oh. Good. Only caught a looksee. Didn’t look too… clean. But didn’t want to say anythin’ about yer tastes.”

Ugh. Why would she even think that? He was a disgusting piece of filth that probably deserved to be locked in the darkest dungeon for the rest of his life. Of course, Tzheitza probably didn’t get a good enough look at him and even if she had, she probably wouldn’t recognize him or know of his crimes. Hell, half of his crimes might not even be actual crimes around here. While she had learned a little, especially about blasphemy, Alyssa still didn’t have a full grasp on the legal workings of Lyria.

“No. No. Nothing like that. He is, or was, a member of the Waters Street gang.”

Tzheitza, who had been cleaning up the mess of making those pills, stilled. “Ye roundaboutin’ a hooligan on my home? Friends with a monster and a malefactor?”

“No!” Alyssa had no idea what a malefactor was, but that was par for the course with Tzheitza. It couldn’t be anything good, that was for sure. “That scum tried to sell me to a whore house. I objected. Violently. Killing the proprietor and a guard as well as freeing some of the ‘merchandise’ as Cid put it. I almost killed him then and again today, but he said something that made me hesitate.

“Apparently, the Waters Street gang is after me because of that aforementioned merchandise. He showed up looking like he had been tortured and complaining about his criminal friend being in trouble—wanting help to get him out of that trouble.” She took a quick minute to explain the circumstances of her meeting Cid a little more thoroughly. She skipped over a few things. Namely freeing the monsters, save for Kasita, and the purple cloak. Most of it, Tzheitza already knew. But Alyssa hadn’t said everything back when she had first asked.

Tzheitza took a deep breath and tossed a cleaning rag onto the counter, knocking over a few sealed jars. She didn’t bother to pick them up. At least they hadn’t rolled off and broken against the floor. “And ye what, wanna save this malefactor Bacco?”

“Honestly? No. Both of them can rot in… in Tenebrael’s embrace or whatever. But if a gang is after me, I need to do something.”

“Ask the Knights. I’m retired.”

“I highly doubt I have the money to hire them. Not for a job to wipe out a whole gang. I don’t know exactly how big this gang is, but that’s why I brought Cid along.” He had said that Svotty got replaced almost immediately. If that was true, they probably had a fairly sizable organization. “I just need… I don’t know what I need. That’s why I came to ask you. And Kasita, she probably knows at least a little about the gang. Where is she?”

Tzheitza first narrowed her eyes, then rolled her eyes with a shrug, all before sighing. “Your pet. Not mine. I’m just waitin’ for her to screw up enough to be worth the effort of killin’.”

“And I’m sure she won’t do anything worthy of raising your ire,” Alyssa said in a raised tone of voice. “And if she can hear me, I would appreciate her coming out.” She waited a moment before calling out, “Kasita? Kasita!”

No response. No shimmer of an object turning into a person. Just silence in the well lit pharmacy.

“Huh. I wonder where she went.”

“Hope to throw itself down the Black Pit.”

Alyssa didn’t know what that was, but it probably wasn’t anything good. “She did save our lives and she hasn’t done anything bad in the week she’s been here. I don’t know why…” Sighing, she shook her head. “I heard about the First City. But that was thousands of years ago. Isn’t it time to let up a bit?”

Tzheitza’s face twisted to a scowl as she slammed her fists on the counter. The little brass weights jumped on the scales, landing with a clatter. “I’ll let up when they stop killing my friends at Pandora.”

A tug pulled at Alyssa’s stomach. She had forgotten completely about the Fortress of Pandora. Built to defend against incursions from monsters. If there wasn’t any aggression from the monsters, there would be no need to build the place. The fact that the place even existed was proof that the hatred for monsters was not wholly unwarranted.

And friends? That sounded personal. Tzheitza had her eyes downcast, staring at the scales with shaking fists. Definitely not something to bring up now. Maybe later when the potioneer was in a better mood. Though really, how much did Alyssa really need to know? It was clear just from the look on Tzheitza’s face and her words. Someone she had cared for died defending the fortress. Any names that would be mentioned would be meaningless to Alyssa.

Hoping that Kasita would stay hidden for at least a few more minutes, she tried changing the subject. “Sorry for bringing up bad memories,” she said in a quiet voice, waiting a few moments before speaking to give Tzheitza time for her thoughts. “But I do need help with the gang. I’ll go find Oz if you don’t want to, but I would like your help interrogating Cid. I’m new to the city so I don’t know what all I should ask about.”

Tzheitza scoffed at the mention of Oz, but didn’t otherwise interrupt Alyssa. “Fetch the malefactor.” She cracked her knuckles in the most intimidating manner. It was straight out of Hollywood with her scowl and glare. Even the lighting of the room made her look ominous.

Not needing telling twice, Alyssa nodded her head and ran right out of the potion shop without bothering to tell Tzheitza that Cid was waiting around the side of the building. Even if she had mentioned it, Tzheitza probably didn’t want a malefactor in her personal rooms. The main shop room was probably bad enough.

Cid had stayed right where Alyssa had left him. Though not in the position she had left him. He was leaning against the door at an awkward angle. Trying to listen in? There shouldn’t be anyone on the other side of the door. It was the storage room. Not even the storage-room-turned-Alyssa’s-bedroom where Kasita might be hanging out. He was definitely too far away to have overheard her conversation with Tzheitza.

Just a light clearing of her throat made him jump the height of the door frame. Really. If he was so worried about her sneaking up on him, why hadn’t he faced the other way, toward the front of the shop, before putting his ear to the door. Shaking her head, Alyssa nodded back toward the front entrance. “Come on. Though I’d think carefully about what I’m going to say if I were you. Tzheitza might just kill you. And the only reason I’d stop her is because I want to kill you myself.”

His cracked lips curled back. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Yeah. Maybe. Should have thought about that beforehand. Too late now. You’re not running off.” Alyssa rested her hand on the holster at her side. If he actually did run off, she probably wouldn’t shoot him. As it was, she had already killed more than enough people for several people’s lifetimes in the last month alone. One of which had been out of pure anger, though a court might have declared it self-defense back on Earth. All the others had been legitimate self-defense, but still.

It weighed on her mind. Pretty much every night. Tenebrael’s comments about her being a reaper didn’t help either. She assuaged her conscience with the knowledge that all of them had deserved it. Pretty much every night, she started to question whether or not the common thieves on Earth or Svotty’s guard had actually deserved it. She squelched those thoughts the second they arose. There were no therapists here. Or, if there were, they probably weren’t very good and she couldn’t exactly go tell them that the deity they worshiped had kidnapped her. For her own peace of mind, the people she had killed absolutely needed to have deserved it.

And while Cid definitely did deserve it just as much as Svotty, Alyssa didn’t want to get in the habit of going around killing all her problems. It was too… permanent. She couldn’t. Not if she wanted to be able to look her parents and brother in the eyes when she finally got back.

All her worrying was for naught. Cid followed along behind her without a single complaint. As soon as they made it inside, Tzheitza shunted him off into one of the… Alyssa wanted to call it a waiting room, but that wasn’t accurate. There were three little cubicles partitioned off from the main shop floor with wooden doors that were used to treat customers over a moderate period of time. If someone needed their hand soaking in a vat of goop for an hour, they went into one of the cubicles. The other day, someone had some earthworm balm applied to a bruise in one.

Now, Cid was practically thrown into one of the seats. There were glass windows in the doors, but Tzheitza hit a small button on the frame. A thick black smog rolled out of an opened hatch, filling the space between the two panes of glass to the point where nothing could be seen on the other side. Though there was still one of those glowing jars of light, the room still felt like a dark cave.

From her apron, Tzheitza started pulling out items. A vial of black liquid. Some metal tool akin to pliers. A glass jar filled with squirming worms—actual leeches? Every time she set another one on the small counter built into the wall, Cid’s eyes widened. With each light clack of a jar hitting wood, muscles in his neck and shoulders twitched. By the time she had finished, there were a dozen tools, potions, and who-knew-whats all lined up in tidy rows.

“Now,” she said slowly. “Who are yeh?”

“C-Cid. I’m Cid. And…” he swallowed with a glance toward the counter. “I really don’t think any of those are necessary.”

Humming, Tzheitza ran a finger over the rim of one of the bottles. Cid leaned about as far as he could without falling out of the chair. It was like some old-timey horror movie. Didn’t torture not even work anyway because the torturee would say anything to get it to stop? Did Cid even need to be tortured? He had shown up on his own to offer information or… to get help with Bacco. Torturing him seemed wholly unnecessary.

But Alyssa didn’t say anything. First of all, there wasn’t any real torture going on. At least not yet. Just the threat of it. Secondly, she didn’t want to undermine Tzheitza’s authority or give Cid a reason to lie as he would know that the torture was only a threat. She just stood to the side, keeping her face as impassive as possible.

“I hear ye like sellin’ young ladies to the gangs.”

Cid’s wide eyes flicked to Alyssa for just an instant. “Selling? Why I… That’s just… I prefer to think of it as assisting newcomers to the city with finding permanent lodgings and even meaningful employment. If I happen to earn a small finder’s compensation on the side, well, we all have to eat.”

“A regular good Samaritan,” Tzheitza said with a sarcastic chuckle.

Which just made Alyssa blink. While she had never read it, she was almost positive that a good Samaritan was a phrase that came from the bible. The very same bible that this world almost certainly did not have a copy of lying about. But, after thinking for a moment, she dismissed the phrase as not important. They all spoke English. If that wasn’t something to get hung up about, neither was a metaphor.

Instead, she focused as Tzheitza started her questioning.


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Author’s Note: Character page has not been updated because I don’t think there was a new character last arc. So just a simple request to vote on Top Web Fiction!

Alyssa’s Notes: Fractal spells. Ugh. I don’t even want to think about them. But I did add Fractal Mirror to my notes. Also, learned a little about potions so I’ve added an addendum to my general magic notes.

010.005

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Brewing Trouble

Madame Webb’s Fine Threads


Alyssa’s hand ached. Muscles in the palm of her hand and her wrist were all cramped up. They shouldn’t be. She had only been practicing drawing a perfect circle for two hours. Back in her grade school days, she had written pretty much all day long for twelve years straight. Two hours holding a pencil should have been a cinch.

Haha. No. By the end of it, her fingers had been locked in place. Her knuckles crackled and popped when she finally set down the fountain pen. She hadn’t even been using ink for the majority of the time. It was too expensive for simple practice. But Alyssa couldn’t fault the results. She had successfully tested a Message spell on Irulon.

Maybe not the most impressive spell to test, but also not a destructive spell. The actual act of creating the spell card had been fairly unimpressive as well. A few scribbles and… magic. A small part of her had expected some sort of ritual involved in their creation. Maybe a drop of blood in the middle or a few abracadabras mumbled under her breath. But no. So long as the designs were properly formed and the card contained the proper angelic text—which Irulon didn’t know the exact meaning of either, though she had mentioned that they were among the more difficult parts of spell creation—the spell would work.

Flicking her wrist to try to work the kinks out, Alyssa walked down the street with an occasional glance to a piece of paper. Directions. After Irulon decided that Alyssa’s meager attempts at perfect shapes were satisfactory enough—or maybe she had just gotten bored—Alyssa had asked for directions to that tailor that she had mentioned. While her modern clothes were less attention-grabbing than the purple cloak she had first worn to the city, acquiring some legitimate attire that fit with the local fashion sounded necessary, if not now then at some point in the future. She doubted that she would actually purchase anything as she had left most of Svotty’s cash behind. Scouting out prices and making contacts with important people were her current goals.

The wealthier side of the city, which contained the Observatorium and several of the larger more opulent homes, felt awkward to walk through. The streets were cleaner than the north and western areas. Larger as well. Some of the main roads were even paved with smoothed cobblestones. There were big houses, even bigger than Tzheitza’s shop, that didn’t even have businesses attached to them like many others did. Their yards weren’t like modern grass yards. They had grass, but they were more like miniature farms filled with all sorts of chickens and turkeys. Walking past was like crossing in front of a band of trumpeters.

But none of that really bothered Alyssa.

It was the slaves.

They were elves for the most part once again. Some would wander the streets with their masters. Others would be in their manor’s yards tending to the livestock or plants. It took a great deal of effort to keep her head focused forward and not get too worked up about their status.

The markets were far more fascinating. There were larger stalls like those at the city entrance, though there weren’t as many of the mobile carts compared to the permanent building shops. The permanent buildings were all oversized. Each shop was unique, nothing like a modern strip mall. Every single shop without exception had large signs hanging above the doorways, painted with their names and a logo. The names were actually far smaller than the logo. Perhaps for the illiterate. Tonks Tailory had a spool of thread with a single string stretching off toward a tunic. The leatherworking shop had its whole sign made out of hides. A barber’s shop had scissors and… leeches?

Not as many people wandered about between the merchants and stores when compared with the city entrance market, but both the people and the goods for sale looked far more expensive. Apples still lacked the glossy sheen of the modern version and were still bruised, but less so compared to the ones she had seen and purchased over near Tzheitza’s shop.

Checking her directions, Alyssa frowned. There was a tailor shop right in the middle of the main square, the second that she had seen since entering this market. It had a few people standing around it. But Irulon’s instructions specifically said to avoid Cott’s Cloth Emporium. Instead, Alyssa headed in the opposite direction down a dark and dusty alley. Despite it still being the middle of the day, it was almost like she had walked indoors. Or into a cave.

Save for herself, the alley was empty. No one bustled about down in this forsaken section of the market. Even the sounds of the crowd from the main square were nothing more than eerie whispers in the shadows.

Was this supposed to be Irulon’s idea of a joke?

Alyssa threw a glance behind her, just to make sure that she wasn’t being boxed in by two creepy thieves. For her meeting at the Observatorium, she had left behind her shotgun. Both her hip and underarm holsters were filled. Putting her hand on her pistol’s hilt, she crept on just a little longer.

The alley seemed to stretch on forever. It couldn’t, of course. There were other streets around. But no matter how far she walked, she never seemed to get closer to the light at the end. The bricks of the alley closed around her as if it were a mouth trying to consume her in the most unassuming fashion.

A flash of movement skittered about in front of her, tearing out of a small archway. Alyssa had her pistol out and aimed down the alley in the blink of an eye.

She didn’t need to use it. The skeletally thin mutt scampered off, startled from an alcove it had been hiding in. Alyssa clamped her hand over her mouth and nose as she glanced toward the alcove. A metal shutter contraption blocked off most of a doorway, but one of the metal plates near the bottom was bent back. Red viscera spilled out onto the ground. Blood mixed with dirt and saliva in deep gouges from claw and teeth marks. The starving dog must have found a snack, but ugh, what was it?

The smell burned at her nose; a meaty, rank scent that was somewhere between rotting food and an outhouse.

Bugs swarmed over the viscera. Large bulbous bugs with sharp snouts. Like mosquitoes except they were the size of her palm. They stayed close to the bloody mess and away from her, but the sight of them still made her shudder.

Thinking she must have taken a wrong turn, Alyssa backed away. This couldn’t be the right place. A princess like Irulon would never be caught dead in such a dank place. There were even thick cobwebs clinging to overhead archways that stretched between the buildings, blocking out light. It was all too much.

No. Irulon would shop at some marble mansion filled with clothes made out of actual gold threads. There would be a hundred attendants surrounding her at all times, bringing her one dress after another as she sat in the middle, directing them like an orchestra conductor with her too-perfect smile.

Alyssa started out of the alley only to pause. She hadn’t noticed when passing earlier, but there was glass on this wall. A window. Dust had caked onto the glass so thick that it blended into the surrounding walls. The only reason she noticed was because of the massive spider web breaking up the fine layer of dust. Now that she was looking, she could see faint lettering etched into the glass.

Madame Webb’s Fine Threads

Glancing down at her directions, Alyssa confirmed that yes, this was the tailor that Irulon had mentioned. What a creepy place, she thought as she leaned in to try to peer through the glass. Even if the place actually existed, which Alyssa still wasn’t sure of with how empty and uninhabited the building looked, she still wasn’t all that inclined to enter.

Wait.

It wasn’t empty. Something just moved inside. Brushing a bit of dust away, Alyssa got her first good look at the interior. Only a few candles lit up the dim room. A young girl sat behind a counter, she had to be younger than Alyssa. Maybe even a teenager. She had long black hair and… a blindfold covering her eyes. Even with the thick cloth on her face, the girl still turned to the window with a smile.

A knot formed in Alyssa’s stomach. But the girl couldn’t possibly have seen her. That was definitely not some false blindfold. It might as well be a wool scarf.

The girl lifted a gloved hand into the air and gave a small beckoning wave.

The knot pulled itself taut as Alyssa jumped back from the window. Nope. No no definitely not. I’ve seen this horror movie. Gun in hand and keeping an eye over her shoulder, Alyssa stalked back down the alley toward the main market square. Running away from someone who might be legitimately blind and had merely heard her brush away the window dust did make her feel a bit bad, but this was a world of monsters and magic. Alyssa would take her chances at the popular tailor shop in the well-lit market rather than some run-down back-alley hole-in-the-wall.

A narrow shadow blocked the light at the end of the alley as a figure moved toward her.

Grinding her teeth together, Alyssa aimed her gun. The market was just beyond, likely filled with people, but Alyssa found herself hard pressed to care at the moment. Between the bloody meat leaking from buildings, creepy blind girls, and dark alleys, she just wanted to be back out in the light. And this man was blocking her in.

Or… he had been blocking her in.

A scream echoed off the bricks in the alley. Not Alyssa’s scream. She was just fine. It had come from the man who was now sniveling in a heap on the floor with his hands clasped over his head. A handful of people passing the mouth of the alley glanced in. Either they didn’t care or they didn’t want to get caught up in troublesome things because they all continued on their way. At least one of them would probably notify a guard. Which might either be good or bad depending on who the guard decided was the aggressor here.

Right now, it was looking an awful lot like Alyssa.

After tossing a quick glance down the alley to ensure that this wasn’t some strange distraction while people sneaked up behind her, Alyssa took a cautious step closer to the man. Not because she wanted to, but because it was the closest way out of the alley. Thankfully, he had thrown himself to a wall, leaving her with plenty of space to edge around him. So long as the curved sword at his hip remained in its little sling on his belt… Alyssa frowned as she eyed the skinny man. His clothes were shabby. Nothing like what someone actually shopping in this section of the city would normally wear.

He peeked out from under his arms as Alyssa paused.

All sense of curiosity fled from Alyssa, replaced with rage. Her fingers tightened around the grip of her pistol as she brought it back up to aim squarely at the man.

Cid,” she spat.

“P-please don’t hurt me!”

“Stalking me? Or out hunting for more victims to sell? Either way, I should send you to Tenebrael. That would solve at least two of my problems. Give one good reason why you deserve to live.”

“I…” He kept his head down, forehead pressed firmly into the dirt ground. His voice came out slightly muffled with how he was curled up. But he still managed to steady his voice enough to speak clearly. “I need your help.”

“Help?” Alyssa parroted. He had been clear, but she still wasn’t sure that she had heard him clearly. “You need my help? With what? Kidnapping more—” Cutting herself off as someone coughed, Alyssa looked up. Apparently not everyone had moved on. Three people dressed in a well-to-do style were staring. Others, curious at what was making a spectacle, were stopping to watch before moving on with their business. “I’m leaving. If I catch you following me again, I will shoot you and I won’t lose a wink of sleep over it. Rather, I imagine that this world would be a much better place.”

“Wait! Please.” Cid reached out, grasping for her ankles until she stepped on his hand. She ground her heel in, eliciting a sharp groan. But it wasn’t enough to stop him from talking. “It’s Bacco. T-They took him! He’s all I have. If something were to happen to him…”

No matter what universe, there was a generally agreed upon rule that a tragedy befalling someone did not excuse their crimes and disgusting personalities. Sympathy should only be afforded to the sympathetic. Which Cid most certainly was not. Even if he had lost his arms and legs to goblins, she wouldn’t have cared in the slightest.

But Alyssa still found herself stopping. Not because of Cid, but because of Bacco. The larger man had helped her out and had been slightly more tolerable than his partner. In the end, he had still tried to sell her, but he had seemed at least somewhat reluctant about it. Maybe that wasn’t a good reason to forgive him. In fact, no! It most certainly isn’t a good reason to forgive him. Especially when he had probably only been reluctant because he had been afraid of her. Had she been any old regular girl, she would likely be confined to a bedchamber right about now.

“I don’t see why I should care. Get out of my sight.”

Cid clutched his hand to his chest the moment Alyssa lifted her foot. Leaving him to his sniveling, Alyssa started walking again. She shot a glare at one of the men watching the altercation from the main street; he quickly decided that he had other places to be, leaving the alley exit open.

“They’re after you too!” Cid called out from behind her. “And they’ll find you. Don’t think you can hide behind your potion seller forever!”

Alyssa’s steps froze with one foot in the air. A small bit of perspiration formed on her back as she slowly lowered her boot to the ground. She stood there with her back to Cid, mind flashing through possibilities and worries.

“You’re lucky I found you first.”

It was a good thing the safety was on. Alyssa’s finger wasn’t even in the trigger guard, but her hand was shaking with how hard her fingers were wrapped around the grip. Whirling on her heel, she got her first good look at Cid’s face.

Days old cuts lined his face. Each were thick, like they had been drawn on with a pointed stick rather than a metal blade. His lips were split in several places. One of his eyes had swelled almost to the point of being shut entirely.

Curling her lip, Alyssa stalked back to him. She squatted down, not even caring that the hem of her dress brushed against the dirt. “What are you talking about?” she hissed. “Who is after me?”

“Who do you think? Waters Street.”

“Great.” Alyssa bit her lip. She had considered that the gang might be larger than Svotty and his guards, but with a week passing and having heard nothing about the gang, she had put it out of her mind. “They’re upset about Svotty?”

Cid scoffed. “Knocking off Svotty wasn’t even a big deal. He’s already been replaced. I doubt they were even worried about the loose coins. They’re… upset about you stealing their merchandise.”

“Merchan—The monster girls?”

“Unless you took something more valuable that I don’t know about, yes.”

A faint tingle brushed the hairs on Alyssa’s neck. She threw a quick glance about just to make sure that no one was sneaking up on her. “So what is after me? A few thugs like you and Bacco? How many?”

Cid put his disgusting teeth on display—now missing one or two more than he had before, but that was hardly noticeable. As he smiled, one of the cuts on his lip broke open, spilling a fresh trickle of blood down his chin. “I’ve told you enough. You help me, and I’ll help you.”

His smile slipped as the silence dragged on. Alyssa wasn’t about to agree to anything he wanted. Instead she stood and started walking away again. “I’ll deal with it myself.” Tzheitza had to have some good ideas on what to do. And she was infinitely more trustworthy.

“Please,” Cid called out as she turned her back on him, all trace of his momentary schadenfrude missing from his voice. “Help me save Bacco. He’s a good kid. Doesn’t deserve this life I’ve dragged him into. I’ll tell you everything I know. Once we find him, you’ll never have to see us again.”

Alyssa continued on for another few steps, but each one came slower than the last until she finally stopped. He had a point. She knew absolutely nothing of the Waters Street gang save for what she saw at the brothel. Tzheitza might know about the gang, but she might not just as easily. Cid was, if not a full member of the gang, a close associate of them. He had up-to-date insider knowledge. And had likely been tortured at their hands if his wounds were anything to go by.

He wouldn’t be loyal to them after that.

“Get on your feet. Keep your hands away from your sides and do not make any sudden movements. They will be your last. And quit smiling! It repulses me.”

“You’ll help me?”

“I’ll consider it. I won’t give you anything more concrete than that until I know more. But not here.” Even if they weren’t really paying more attention than a simple curiosity deserved, Alyssa didn’t like her business being aired in front of half the market square. Not to mention she was still in the same alley as that creepy tailor shop. No. She would discuss things with Cid someplace where they were safe and alone.

And Alyssa couldn’t think of anywhere safer than Tzheitza’s potion shop with the potioneer herself helping to keep an eye on the criminal.


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010.004

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Brewing Trouble

Mental Fracture


Alyssa blinked. She was staring at Irulon for some reason. The princess had a look of genuine surprise on her face, but she quickly schooled it away behind her smile, which opened right up as her lips began to flap. Noise came out. Vibrations in the air that might as well have been static on a radio for all Alyssa could understand it. So she didn’t bother trying. Instead, she focused on herself.

Moving ever so slightly rubbed her the wrong way. She was soaking wet. Sweat poured off every inch of her skin. It wasn’t the good kind of post-workout sweat either. It was a cold, clammy sort of sweat. The kind that she might wake up with in the middle of the night after dreaming about something frightening. One of her hands shook as she watched it. The other was propping up her chin. Without it there, she would probably have fallen. Somehow, she had wound up sitting right on the edge of a desk. No matter how hard she tried, Alyssa couldn’t think of how she actually got atop it.

That wasn’t to say that she had lost her memories. “There was so much,” she said, voice shaking. She had seen herself a hundred thousand times in countless glass shards. Every version of her had been doing different things. Sometimes two different shards did similar things. Sometimes they were wildly different. Every single one felt burned into the insides of her skull. But she clearly remembered picking and touching one where she was seated as she was now.

She just couldn’t remember how she moved from one side of the room to the top of the desk.

The floor lurched forward. Alyssa tried to jump back, away from it, but it didn’t help. The hard stone smacked into her face before she could do anything.

“Oh dear,” Irulon said. She moved forward a few steps, allowing her gold-cloth shoes to come into view as she stomped on the floor, though it was too late to beat back its assault on Alyssa. “Has your mind fallen to pieces? I’m afraid I cannot fix that, but rest assured that I will take great pleasure in taking you apart to find out exactly what you are.”

Alyssa groaned, pressing her hand against the smooth floor. The thick layer of sweat clinging to her palm just about made her slip, but she managed to hold on. “What,” she ground through grit teeth. Her head felt like it was going to explode. “What was that?”

“Ah, are you recovering?”

It took some effort, much grunting and muscle strain, for Alyssa to get herself up into a proper seated position on the floor. At no point did Irulon lift a finger to help, though she had fallen silent, thankfully. Every noise was making her head thump. The princess just stood aside, watching while Alyssa used one of the table’s legs as a back rest. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back and just tried to empty her mind.

Alyssa stood behind Irulon, swinging a chair down over the other woman’s head. The wood seat fell into a mirrored surface that appeared between the two.

Alyssa elbowed the glass case containing the Medusa’s head, getting nothing but pain for her efforts.

Alyssa tripped down the stairs. Her arm broke as it caught in the railing’s bars.

Alyssa jerked, snapping open her eyes and sucking in a sharp gasp of air.

Irulon stood over her, leaning over with a smile. A strange smile. It wasn’t her usual expression that she had probably practiced in the mirror a hundred times a day. It was… pleasant yet unnerving at the same time. Her lips pushed up her cheeks, forming just the shadow of wrinkles around the corners of her eyes. It was far more natural than the mask she usually wore.

Which just made this all the more unnerving. Just what had made Irulon happy enough to genuinely smile.

Worse still, Alyssa had the odd sensation of deja vu. This… was this real? She had already seen it. One of the shards of glass had this exact scene.

“Alyssa? Can you hear me? Hello?”

“What was that?” Alyssa asked, just as she had in the shard. But the shard hadn’t shown her further than this point. Although the scene itself was vivid enough in her mind that she might as well be rewatching it on her phone, she couldn’t actually remember the piece of glass itself. Had it disappeared? Crushed like the ones where she had apparently died in some manner? Or had it simply gone out of her sight?

“Fractal Mirror. A Rank Six spell that allows the arcanist to view every conceivable action they could take within the next sixty seconds. Upon touching a pane of glass, the spell then forces this world to correspond with what you saw in whatever shard of reality you chose. All intervening actions are effectively discarded in favor of the end result.”

That didn’t make much sense to Alyssa, but it was magic. Rank Six as well. Far from her estimation of the lower ranks being easily replicated by mundane means.

“Everything is probably blurring together at the moment. It will get better as time passes and you can further divorce yourself from what you witnessed. Changing location can work as well. Shall we move to the other side of the room?”

“I’d rather avoid moving for the foreseeable future, if that’s alright with you.” Once again, Alyssa tried to close her eyes. She could still see all the possibilities, but Irulon was right. Sixty seconds must have passed. While she had been lying on the floor almost exactly as she was now in any number of those possibilities, she hadn’t once heard what the spell actually did. Knowing how it worked, Irulon had probably done that on purpose.

It showed the future? What kind of insanity was that? Now that she was actually thinking about it, just that aspect of the spell alone was crazy enough. Then it had to go and what… break causality? That was what it had done, right? Alyssa wasn’t some sort of physicist or any other kind of scientist, but she had definitely heard about causality in various fictions. Just thinking about it made her headache worsen.

“So, you are capable of casting spells at the peak of human limits. Quite impressive. There are only three others in the city able to do the same. Administrator Devo and my dear father. Myself included, of course.”

“Are all high level spells so…” Alyssa shuddered.

Which just made Irulon giggle. “Fractal magic has a long and storied history of driving its users insane. As such, it is not a well researched specialization. Such an unexplored facet of magic could open up countless unknown possibilities. My particular fascination revolves around the possibility that all the possibilities you saw are real, actually happening somewhere out there.”

“It makes people insane?” Alyssa clung to that one line, barely hearing the rest of what Irulon had to say. “And you made me cast it, ugh. I still feel like my brain is melting through my ears.”

“Truthfully, I did not believe you would be able to. When you actually initiated the spell, I assumed you were doomed. I was all prepared to call in some servants to clean up the mess.” Irulon took the seat in a chair near where Alyssa sat on the floor, crossing her legs as she sat down. “I am truly impressed. As expected of some unknown creature of the Underworld.”

“I’m not… Ugh, whatever. It hurts to argue.”

“Ahaha! You’re a fascinating one. Shame I can’t take you apart.”

“I’d appreciate if you wouldn’t.”

“Perhaps later. For now, you want to learn magic. Tell me why.”

That was a question Alyssa had expected before even showing up today. So it didn’t take much thinking to go through her options. Of course, she had come up with answers before she knew about Irulon’s obsession with this Underworld—some place, presumably, that Alyssa had never heard of before now. “I arrived in Teneville a few weeks ago through a magical accident. I would like to get back home.”

“There is a pit leading to the—”

“I’m not from the damn Underworld! I’ve never even heard of it until today!” Alyssa groaned. That outburst hadn’t helped her headache. “Before arriving in Teneville, I didn’t even know magic was real. I don’t know what spell brought me here or how to reverse it. However, I do know that the creature who sent me here was not a human. If I go back, it will probably try to kill me. So I need a way to defend myself as well.” Okay. Technically the one who sent her here wasn’t going to try to kill her, that would be Iosefael, but Irulon didn’t need to know the difference between Tenebrael and Iosefael. Or any other angels that might exist for that matter. “Can you help me?”

“You’re being awfully vague. Though I suppose that is why I’m interested in you. There are a plethora of spells related to combat and defense. Transportation magic… hmm…” Irulon took her violet eyes off Alyssa for a moment, scanning around the library. “I assume you require something for long distances.”

“I’ve never heard of Lyria. Or Teneville. Or the First City. Or the Fortress of Pandora…”

Irulon looked back with a jerk of her head. Her eyes flickered for an instant, reverting to that black with white rings where her irises should be. Whatever it was, it only lasted a quick second. Could it have been a spell of some sort?

No. Everyone she had seen cast a spell had called out the name of the spell. Even Irulon had called out the Fractal Mirror spell.

“Hey,” Alyssa said softly. Her headache was dying down enough that it was just a mild ache rather than the thumping pain. “How come people shout out the spell names when they cast?”

“Humans trigger the spell through a verbal phrase. Humans,” she repeated with a smile.

“I am human,” Alyssa said with a scowl.

“Hm. Did you know that you’re missing… No. Never mind.”

“Missing what?”

“Never. Mind.”

Glancing around, Alyssa worried for a moment that the mirror spell had not moved something when it moved the rest of her. Both pistols were still holstered, one under her arm and one at her hip. All the rings, necklaces, and other such jewelry were still in place. Her hair was still pulled back into a ponytail and she had both arms, both legs, and all her fingers and toes. Naturally, her dress was still in place as well. Aziz’s satchel should have been on top of the desk, but it hadn’t been on her person while using the spell.

Maybe Irulon was mistaken and that was why she had said never mind. Shaking her head, and feeling slightly better, Alyssa used the table to get back on her feet. Her stance wasn’t so steady, but she managed to keep herself from toppling over. The satchel was right on top, right where she had left it, and a quick search through showed nothing missing.

“Take out your little copying trinket,” Irulon said. “I’ll show you a few generic spells you can use to defend yourself. After that, we should determine your specializations.”

“Uh…” Alyssa shifted side to side as she averted her eyes from Irulon.

“Uh? Uh what?” Irulon’s violet eyes shifted to the satchel, Alyssa’s waist, her hands, then back to her eyes. “You don’t have it. Why? With how you reacted last time, I do not believe you would have given it away. Damaged then? Lost. With its apparent value, you would have been exceedingly careful unless I grossly misjudged your personality. Stolen then.”

“Not stolen per se. I wanted it upgraded a bit and handed it off to someone who could do that. They… uh… have probably forgotten completely at this point.” The night before, Alyssa had tried to get it back. She had closed her eyes, clasped her hands together, and verbally asked Tenebrael to appear before her. That stupid angel obviously hadn’t—she was probably too busy torturing that other idiotic angel. Or whatever they were doing together. Alyssa hadn’t seen either since that night. Ugh, was it too much to ask that they bow to her every whim? Or at least return the phone.

It had been absurdly embarrassing, especially with Kasita watching her the whole time.

“An upgrade implies that they are familiar enough with the trinket to delve into its inner enchantments. Meaning that they could build another one.” Irulon stood, arched her back in a quick stretch, and looked to Alyssa. “Take me there. I would like to acquire one for myself. While we’re out, we can find you a proper tailor.”

Blinking, Alyssa glanced down at herself. Her long blue skirt and the light blue top were perfectly fine looking. Maybe wrinkled from being packed in her pack for two weeks along with a bunch of other junk, but relatively clean. They weren’t dirty or frayed around the edges. Given that Alyssa’s mother had roughly the same body size and shape, they weren’t even overly large.

In comparison to Irulon’s elegant silk gown with all its purple and golden colors, Alyssa’s cotton or polyester or whatever it was did look a little worse. But who cared? She hadn’t come here for fashion tips. She came for the magic! Which, unfortunately, seemed like it was being blocked by her phone.

“Unfortunately, the person upgrading it doesn’t exactly have a shop.”

“And you don’t have a way to locate them?”

“I tried already, just yesterday, and failed. I think I’m just going to have to wait for her to bring it back to me.”

“Hm. This sounds more and more like it was stolen, though through your own foolishness rather than any guile on the thief’s part.”

“Nope, I’m quite sure that this person is entirely trustworthy… with this one specific thing.” And maybe the location of Bercilak as well. Anything else, Alyssa would take with a grain of salt.

“And you have no means of contacting them? Perhaps a Message spell?”

Actually, despite being in Aziz’s notebook, that spell hadn’t even crossed her mind. The only other means of contacting Tenebrael that Alyssa could think of had been to go out and murder someone—or find someone about to die. And she wasn’t about to do that. It was true that she had… killed a small number of people since that fateful night, but she wasn’t some murderer! Not even over something as extraordinarily useful as a stupid phone.

Though it would be lying to say that she hadn’t been keeping her eyes open for any goblins while delivering Tzheitza’s potions over the past few days.

“How exactly does Message work?” She knew roughly from what she had read in Aziz’s notebook, but it was a higher ranked spell. Higher than Zero, anyway. With him unable to cast Rank Zero, he had only brief descriptions of much beyond. Yet another reason she still hadn’t tried to fly.

“You say Message, followed by the name of the recipient, followed by a short verbal message.”

“Won’t work,” Alyssa said instantly. “I don’t know their real name.” Except she did. Dominion Tenebrael. She couldn’t just speak it in front of Irulon. With that tattoo around Irulon’s eye mimicking Tenebrael’s, claiming to be friends or enemies with Tenebrael would likely see her exiled for heresy or blasphemy. According to Kasita, the typical punishment for that minor crime was exile to the First City. Maybe she could find some monsters as friendly as Kasita. Maybe she would wind up food for some creature from beyond her nightmares. However, as soon as she got back to Tzheitza’s potion shop, the message spell would be the first thing she tried.

“I see,” Irulon said, all amusement missing from her voice and her face. “So you handed off a trinket, the likes of which I have never seen before, to someone who you don’t know, doesn’t have a proper business, and you have no way of locating. And you think this was a good idea?” Shaking her head, Irulon sighed. “I had thought—perhaps even wished in a moment of weakness—that you were more intelligent than the average imbecile. Sometimes I forget how slowly other people think.”

Well if that wasn’t the most arrogant thing Alyssa had ever heard, she didn’t know what was. At the same time, she could see where Irulon was coming from. The phone would have become worthless after only a few hours in operation anyway because of the battery running out, so if she didn’t ever get it back, it wasn’t that big of a loss. She would have needed to go without it anyway. Without knowing that, it was perfectly understandable for the princess to be upset.

“If you weren’t a Rank Six arcanist, I would probably have you thrown into my oubliette. As it is, I am considering the benefits of having you publicly flogged.”

“Please don’t.”

“Hm.” Irulon stared as if seriously considering the prospect.

“Look, uhh…” Alyssa said quickly, desperate for a change in the subject. “Why don’t we, uh…” She had just about asked about the duplication method Aziz had mentioned so long ago, wondering if it were possible just to clone Irulon’s spell tome. But that was a bit close to their current topic of using her phone to copy down spells. Mentally, Alyssa snapped her fingers. “I’ve never created a spell card before. I’m sure an arcanist of your caliber has all sorts of tips and tricks. Would you show me how?” There! Perfect! A bit of busy work to distract the princess along with a hint of ego stroking.

But Irulon made a face. “I knew you were new, but you haven’t scribed a spell? That’s the most basic of basics.”

“Then it shouldn’t take long to teach me. I am literate and well educated in non-magical matters. Think of it as… an investment. I can’t be an effective Rank Six arcanist if I can’t even cobble together a single spell card.”

“To be an investment, you must be something that I can use. And I definitely can find uses for an unknown arcanist with your potential. Very well. Your compelling argument has convinced me,” Irulon said in a flat tone of voice. She wasn’t even trying to pretend like she had needed convincing.

Teeth clenched together, Alyssa forced herself into a smile. “Great. Sounds lovely.”


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Author’s Note: Just a quick reminder to vote over at Top Web Fiction! Thanks! I appreciate it.

Patreon supporters: Victoria Watt chapter 2 is up. For non-subscribers, it is a steampunk-esque story that is currently Patreon only. Slow releases as Vacant Throne takes priority. I’ll write up a proper synopsis and maybe stick it on the sidebar sometime soonish.

010.003

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Brewing Trouble

Fractal Mirror


The Royal Observatorium of Demonic, Divine, and Miraculous Phenomena.

Alyssa would be lying if she said that she wasn’t nervous. Her life had become so surreal. Angels, alternate worlds, monsters, magic. She had even helped stop a war, or something close enough to it. Sure, the Black Prince would probably have cleared out all the monsters without too much trouble, but the ringleader would have gotten away. And the shadow assassins… Alyssa still wasn’t sure what they were. Some sort of invisible creature it seemed. She didn’t know if they would have been able to kill the Black Prince or not, but they had never been given the chance to try thanks to her.

And yet, she somehow found herself exceedingly apprehensive about actually entering the domed building. She had marched right up to the Brechen Overlook with barely a thought while knowing that there were people there who weren’t going to be too pleased to see her. Here should be different. She had been invited by a princess.

Maybe that was the problem. With the Overlook, she hadn’t had the time to think of all the ways things could go wrong. Not to mention that she hadn’t known what she would find. Here, she knew Irulon. More importantly, she remembered Irulon’s soul. The dragon.

Both Oz and Tzheitza, two people who would know better than anyone else Alyssa had encountered, had said that dragons couldn’t change their form like Kasita. Asking the mimic had turned up nothing at all; Kasita had never met a dragon before. Still, with two different people telling her the same thing, Irulon was a human. She had to be. But that didn’t make her less unnerving. There was her creepy smile. The same smile she had while threatening to throw Alyssa into the stocks.

But Alyssa had passed that little test. There shouldn’t be anything to worry about. She was overthinking everything far too much. Not only that, but she had come prepared this time.

Tzheitza had introduced Alyssa to the most wonderful thing. Public bathing. Well, the public part wasn’t the most comfortable aspect, but the fact that she had bathed more than made up for that. There were simply some concessions she had to make in the name of cleanliness. And the baths were, to be quite frank, exquisite. Branches of the aqueducts carried water to a large open-air building. There, it split off into three different chambers. Two smaller heated pools and one large cold pool were only a few of the building’s features. There were both saunas and steam rooms as well as a massage room, though Alyssa hadn’t used any of those facilities. She had stuck with the medium-heat pool. The hot one might as well have been lava and the cold pool, which occupied most of the building and was possibly bigger than the lap pool at her gymnasium back on Earth, had been far too crowded for her tastes. It had been unnerving enough being naked in public in the smaller rooms. It wasn’t like they had a men and woman’s side.

But she had made it through and felt so much cleaner than she had the last time she approached the Observatorium.

A bath wasn’t the only preparation she had taken. Since she had packed a few dresses to sell, she had pulled one out to wear. Nothing fancy. Neither Alyssa nor her mother owned anything truly fancy. It was just one of her mother’s church dresses. Alyssa had long since stopped going to church—as odd as that seemed knowing what she knew now about angels—but her mother still attended weekly services. It was a simple blue skirt that went past the knees and a light blue top. She had also put on some jewelry. Two rings, a bracelet, and a necklace. Nothing too extravagant.

Hopefully she didn’t look like a hobo who had robbed a jewelry store this time.

Taking a deep breath, Alyssa started up the large marble steps all on her own. No Tzheitza. No Bacco. Not even Kasita had wanted to follow along. Something about arcanists having the ability to detect her presence. Just as before, the doors were wide open and there wasn’t a guard in sight. Being situated near the palace on the eastern side of the city, the Observatorium hadn’t even seen a single goblin in the near vicinity. It was like a completely different world over here. Alyssa should know, she had been to two. People wandered about on the streets just as they had before the attack. There was no construction, no nervous glances at alcoves, no guards patrolling about.

It was like the attack had never happened.

Shaking her head, Alyssa passed through the trophy room to get to the library staircase. Irulon had said to meet her there and since no one was in the trophy room to speak with, Alyssa didn’t have a better destination. When she crested the top of the spiral staircase, she paused and frowned.

No one was around at all apparently. No other students. None of the administrators she had heard about. And no Irulon.

The time of day was roughly the same as it had been a week ago. Had schedules shifted? Were the other students in class?

Or… how long were weeks in this world? Seven days, right? It wasn’t something she would ever have thought that she would need to think about. If weeks were less than seven days, then she had missed her appointment. Princess Irulon… might just throw her into the stockades. If she was lucky.

Grinding her teeth together, Alyssa spun around. She just about ran straight back to Tzheitza to ask a question that should be common knowledge. But no. If weeks were seven days or more, she hadn’t missed her appointment but still might if she ran off. If Irulon never showed by nightfall, she could go home and ask Tzheitza about the calendar. Maybe weeks were eight or more days long. If so, she could just come back again.

For now, she had come here to learn magic that might get her home and keep her safe from angels. Irulon or no, she had an entire library to herself. There weren’t other students to be embarrassed about making mistakes in front of like last time. And after that trip to the public baths, she wasn’t sure that taking a little longer to search the bookshelves even registered on her embarrassment meter.

Since that terrible angel still hadn’t returned her phone, she decided to head over to the same shelf as last time, dropping off Aziz’s satchel on a nearby table on the way. Aziz’s satchel was her new favorite carrying case. Having left her bulky pack at Tzheitza’s potion shop, it served as an adequate purse for smaller items. It had the added bonus of being native to this world. At the moment, it just had several writing implements and a spare magazine for each of her holstered pistols.

It didn’t take long to find the same book she had copied from last time. Although she seemed to have a decent source of clean water and food through Tzheitza’s kindness, the Draw Water spell still interested her. It could be absolutely invaluable if she ever had to strike out on her own again. Not to mention that it was an interesting spell from a more experimental standpoint.

Draw Water did just what its name implied, from what she had read last time, and drew water from whatever it was aimed at. A body of water, usually. What she really wanted to know was how pure the extracted water ended up. Unfortunately, she would probably have to find a microscope to tell if there were any bacteria and… pathogens or whatever—she wasn’t a biologist, but if something was moving in a supposedly pure glass of water, it probably still needed boiling. After that, she wanted to know how versatile the spell was. Could it be used on humid air to get a source of water? Dryer air? Human sweat? Humans? Humans were seventy-something percent water after all.

Though she might not try that last one anytime soon. It sounded like it could get… messy.

“I was beginning to wonder if you would ever enter the building.”

Alyssa’s heart leaped out of her chest. Her fingers had barely brushed the leather bindings of the book when Irulon’s voice touched her ear. Spinning around, she found the princess at a respectable distance. Irulon had sounded—felt—so much closer. Magic to carry her voice? Whatever. Her dark painted lips pulled into a vacant smile as she stared with her pale violet eyes. Not wanting to disrespect her, Alyssa tried to return the smile.

“I feared I had the wrong day. With the attack on the city, I got a bit mixed up.” There. Hopefully Irulon hadn’t been waiting for twenty-four hours if weeks were shorter than Alyssa thought. But if they were and if she had, at least she had a mild excuse.

But Irulon just blinked her eyes in confusion and tilted her head. “Attack?”

An uncomfortable silence clung to the air following her question. Did she really not know? Alyssa had expected a princess to be sheltered, but how could she have possibly missed the giant army just outside the city walls. Before she could actually say anything, Irulon’s eyes widened.

“Oh! The trolls breaching the wall. My brother mentioned something about that. You got caught up in it? I am so sorry you had to experience such a horrible thing. Are you alright?”

“I… Yeah, I’m fine.” Alyssa couldn’t believe that Irulon actually cared at all. The tone of her voice. Her apparent forgetfulness. Even the way her smile turned to a look of concern was too… practiced. It wouldn’t surprise Alyssa in the slightest to find out that Irulon woke up bright and early every morning to practice her facial expressions in the mirror. Or maybe she had some sort of Royal Expression Coach. Either way, she needed more practice. “It was just a bit hectic at the time, you know?”

“No. I don’t.”

It was a rhetorical question, Alyssa thought to herself.

“But,” Irulon continued, “I have seen my eldest brother running about all harried. As heir to the throne, it is his duty to restore order. I’ve even heard it rumored that we will need to increase the tax on several of the larger villages this harvest season in order to fully feed the city. It is truly a tragic incident.

“Enough of this depressing talk for now,” she said, concern vanishing from her face in an instant to be replaced with her usual smile. “You came here to learn magic. Good news! Chief Administrator Devo has… consented to allowing you library access. Though I must say, when I described your appearance to him, I wasn’t expecting you to look so… different.”

Deciding that nothing good could come of questioning just how she convinced the administrator to allow her access, Alyssa focused on her appearance. “That was my first day in the city. I hadn’t even found a real place to stay.”

“You’ve found a place now?”

“I have.”

Irulon went silent for a moment, perhaps wondering if Alyssa would elaborate on just where she was staying. If the princess wanted to find out where she lived, she would just have to expend some of her princessly resources. It probably wouldn’t be that difficult, but she was just unnerving enough that Alyssa really didn’t want her stopping by Tzheitza’s potions shop if it could be helped.

“Hm. Well,” Irulon gestured back to a nearby table and chairs, “mind if I ask a few questions?”

“I suppose not,” Alyssa said as she took the indicated seat.

“You are not from around here.”

Alyssa couldn’t help her sigh. “That is correct.”

“I mean anywhere near here. The whole continent. You aren’t from across the northern desert. You aren’t from across any of the oceans. You aren’t from south of the Fortress of Pandora. You are a creature of the Underworld.”

“The what?”

Irulon blinked. Then she blinked again. “I’m wrong?” she said, losing her smile. “No. You aren’t from the surface. You must be from the Underworld.”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never lived underground. How did you even come to that conclusion? Does where I used to live really matter?”

Again, Irulon blinked. She eyed Alyssa with suspicion in her eyes, but eventually nodded her head. “I suppose it doesn’t. I was sure… hm. Never mind. But you don’t deny being inhuman. You are a creature of… some type.”

“I hate to break it to you, but that’s wrong too. I am a human. I was born a human and I imagine I’ll continue to be a human for the rest of my life.” Alyssa watched, half expecting the princess’ eyes to switch to those dark versions with white rings. But they didn’t. Irulon did narrow her eyes, but it wasn’t even directed at Alyssa. It was more of a brow-furrowed-in-thought kind of thing.

“You don’t have to deny that,” Irulon said after a moment. “Even if you’re one of the great Monster Lords, it won’t matter to me. I’ll keep your secret.”

“I’m not a monster!” Cid and Bacco had thought the same thing. Or at least Bacco had. She had thought it was because of some obtusely answered questions on her part, but had it been something else? Why would Irulon think she was a monster? She had seen other people with brown hair and brown eyes around the city. So it wasn’t like she looked inhuman. If anything, Irulon was the monster! Who even had violet eyes? Giant dragons disguised as humans, that’s who! But Alyssa didn’t say that. Obviously. “Look. I’m human. I was born to human parents. I was born on the surface and have lived there my entire life. Yes, it was far away from Lyria. I do concede that point.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-five.”

“Have you ever died?”

“What? What kind of question is that?” Alyssa rubbed at her forehead. This was not how she had imagined meeting the princess would go. Where was she even getting these ideas. “Princess, I don’t mean to seem rude or anything, but you seem to have drawn some odd conclusions about me from… somewhere.”

“Hm. Curiouser and curiouser…”

“I don’t suppose we could switch the topic to magic? It is what I came here to learn, after all.” Anything to get the topic off herself.

Irulon stood, making Alyssa’s stomach lurch. For a moment, she thought the younger woman was going to stalk out of the room. Maybe offended at the lack of accuracy in her notions. But she didn’t. She nodded her head as she opened the tome chained to her waist. “I see I need additional data to formulate proper analysis of you, so I suppose there is no harm in switching to a magic discussion for the time being. First however, I would like to see you cast a spell once more.” Pulling a card from the tome, she placed it face up on the table between them. As soon as it was down, she promptly took a half-dozen steps backward.

Frowning, Alyssa glanced down at the card. The base design was a triangle. Inside that triangle were more triangles, each of which had more triangles. Just as with every other spell card she had seen, the angelic runes were written all over it. This card seemed to have more than others, but maybe that was her imagination. “What is it?”

“Fractal Mirror. A Rank Six spell.”

“What does it do?”

Irulon’s perfect smile froze on her face. “Hm. I wonder.”

Well that wasn’t omnious or anything. The way she backed away didn’t help with Alyssa’s confidence. Her tome was still open in her hand. Her other hand was fingering one of the cards as well. Something to cast should this Fractal Mirror go wrong? What could the spell be?

She knew what mirrors were. Fractals were… some math thing. They made interesting pictures on the internet. Or people made interesting pictures and called them fractals. The specific image she had in mind was an animated gif that zoomed in forever. So how would that translate to a spell?

Shrugging her shoulders, she decided to try what everyone else did. Holding up the card with the pattern facing away from her—though also not pointed at Irulon—Alyssa said, “Fractal Mirror!”

Nothing happened. The card stayed between her fingers. Nothing she looked at changed. There were no mirrors and no fractals anywhere to be seen.

Irulon’s smile widened ever so slightly. Her fingers flipped through her tome before she held up an identical card. “Fractal Mirror,” she intoned in a low voice.

The card shattered into thumb-sized shards like it was a piece of glass. It didn’t just disappear or burn up. The card didn’t stop with just breaking. The pieces flew out of her fingers, filling the air around her with far more glassy slivers than could possibly have fit in the paper card. They exploded, doubling in quantity without shrinking in size. It happened over and over again until Alyssa could only see Irulon’s silhouette through the glass.

Said silhouette reached out and casually tapped one of the shards. As soon as her finger made contact, the entire array of glass crushed inward, folding in on itself. Irulon’s silhouette went with it, twisting and breaking as the glass pressed into a small ball. The size of a beach ball. The size of a volleyball. The size of a marble. Soon enough, there was nothing left. No glass. No magic.

No Irulon.

Alyssa stood with a start. Was she invisible? Had something gone wrong?

She barely started panicking when she heard a soft sigh from behind her.

Spinning around, Alyssa found the princess standing just a few paces behind her. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on her skin that hadn’t been there before, but she otherwise looked just as she had before casting a spell.

All that for a teleport!? was Alyssa’s first thought. Thinking about it for literally one more second had her in absolute awe. She was far too used to Hollywood and flashy instant teleports in movies. But Irulon had literally moved from one side of the room to the other without crossing the space in between. That was absolutely amazing! Something no technology could possibly replicate. At least not any technology on modern day Earth. It was showy, flashy, and had taken a good three seconds—probably enough time to have simply walked across the room—but still. It wasn’t like everything needed a combat application.

Glancing down at the card in her hand again, Alyssa wondered just how versatile it was. Could it get her back to her home? If so, she could go home, shower, spend the night, and come back every single day. When—or rather, if she ran out of ammo for one of her guns, she could go home and resupply. The food she had left behind. The spices. Anything valuable. The internet. Her printer. This spell could be the most useful thing she had discovered so far.

If it could get her home, could it get her home?

It looked like it had taken a bit out of Irulon. Her stance wasn’t quite as perfect as it had been before. Sweat glistened on her skin. Having been to the gym on a regular basis before coming here, Alyssa had seen plenty of people doing the slow breathing exercises to get back to a normal rate that Irulon was doing now.

Still, even if it was a bit exhausting, it would be worth it.

“Mind if I try again?” Alyssa said.

Irulon took a deep breath, let it out nice and slow, and nodded her head. “Go ahead if you think you can.” Again, she stepped far away and opened her tome to grab onto a card.

Alyssa didn’t mind. It was probably some defensive spell that would keep her from dying if the shards of glass went out of control or something like that. Instead of paying attention to Irulon, Alyssa focused on the spell. Disappearing and reappearing two steps to the left—while she wanted to go home, she really didn’t want to go without a quick way back. And she couldn’t go home home while those angels were still running around. Two steps seemed a good test.

As soon as she imagined the shards of glass whirling around her, it happened. Her card shattered just as Irulon’s had. The pieces multiplied over and over again as they surrounded her. Soon enough, she couldn’t see out of the cloud. She could see herself reflected in the facets.

But the shards continued swirling around. It had been three seconds between the card shattering and Irulon appearing behind her. But it had been far more than ten seconds now.

At least twenty seconds passed before she realized that something was wrong. The glass whirled around her, each little shard reflecting herself. Her elation at finding a teleportation spell died, replaced with an unnatural dread.

The glass surrounded her.

There was no way out.

No way anywhere.

She had a narrow bubble of space between her and the glass. Enough to turn and see that there were no holes in the curtain. If she tried to reach out, her hand would surely be torn to shreds.

Alyssa continued turning. Her breathing quickened. There had to be a way out. Irulon had escaped.

That’s right! Irulon had escaped. Alyssa had seen it with her own eyes. The princess had reached out and touched one of the pieces of glass!

Alyssa kept her hand firmly at her side. There were so many. And they were all moving. The sharp edges gleamed. If she moved her arm, her hand would come right off.

As she looked at the glass, she noticed something. Her reflections weren’t always the same. Alyssa kept her hair in a ponytail to keep it out of her face. But one mirror showed her hair frazzled, messy, and half covering her eyes. Another showed her seated in a chair. Another still lying on the floor, bleeding out from a hundred thousand cuts. Yet another was Alyssa with her pistol drawn, aimed at the back of Irulon’s head.

She watched that last one for a moment. It was slow moving and easy to keep track of even among the tornado of glass. The Alyssa in the reflection fired her gun, but the bullet stopped short. Irulon had activated the spell in her open tome, creating some sort of reflective barrier around her. A ghastly hand reached out of the mirror toward the Alyssa in the reflection. Just before it reached, the shard of glass shattered, destroying the reflection.

What the hell was that?

Alyssa stared. Every single shard was different. Each showed a scene. Some disappeared like the one. Some appeared as if from nothing.

She was out on the street.

She was downstairs, trying to break the glass on a trophy case.

She flipped over a chair.

She curled up in a ball under a desk.

She was reading a book.

She tore apart a book.

There! One moving slowly enough to track. She was seated on a desk, feet on a chair, and her chin resting on her curled knuckles as her elbow rested on her knee. It was a pose much like how Tenebrael had appeared a week ago in the inn.

Alyssa reached out and touched it, nicking her finger in the process.

But things changed. All the images reflected in the shards of glass disappeared, replaced with the image of her seated on the desk.

The shards froze in the air, no longer spinning around. They pressed in, moving right up against her skin. The glass was like ice chilling her body. But they didn’t stop there. They kept squeezing in, pinching, pressing, digging into her flesh. Alyssa couldn’t breathe.

She tried to scream as the shards dug into her eyes. Into her ears. She tried to scream, but the glass was in her mouth. On her tongue. Down her throat. It pressed into her, pulling her apart from the outside and the inside.

Until everything stopped.


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010.002

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Brewing Trouble

Failed Recruitment


Oz stood near the potion shop’s front door, wearing his scale mail vest. He had a sword on one hip and a short dagger on the other. The same equipment she had seen him wear on the night of the attack. None of it looked to be in a good condition anymore. The scales in his vest were torn here and there, including a fairly large gash around the side of his ribs, though it didn’t cut far into the under armor. Alyssa couldn’t see the sword with its sheath in the way, but the dagger’s formerly sharp edges were dinged and chipped while the tip had broken clean off. Still, he was smiling and didn’t appear to be injured.

It was a fairly charming smile. Not too wide but still managed to show off his teeth. They weren’t bleached white but… well, she should stop comparing people’s dental health with Cid’s. It just wasn’t fair. Still, it was a favorable expression. When combined with his messy red hair and his well built physique, it probably would have given silly giggles to a few of the girls she knew from high school.

Not that it lasted.

Tzheitza marched into the room, still swearing up a storm. Her words had once again reached that peak where Alyssa couldn’t make heads or tails of what she was saying. The meaning was fairly clear even if the words weren’t.

Ozheim was not welcome here.

That didn’t make him leave, however. “Tzhei,” he said with a smile. “No need to get so worked up.”

“Worked up! Yer roundabouts wearin off the boot! I renner ye dustmites an’ japing hocks!”

Alyssa blinked twice and shook her head, not understanding a single word. Tzheitza, as it turned out, could speak in a relatively normal manner. When she was calm. The more agitated she got, the less her words made sense. But she hadn’t ever been this bad. Well, except for right after they had been captured by Bercilak, just before she got a gag shoved in her mouth.

“Yeah. I’m glad you’re doing well too,” Oz said, making her wonder if he understood any of it either as he tried to smile again. “I meant to stop by earlier, but some things came up. You know how it is.”

“Haberin whore rottymix.”

“Uh huh. Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to go on a little expedition with me and a few Knights. You know, come out of retirement… for… uh… Tzhei?”

Standing behind her, Alyssa couldn’t see Tzheitza’s face. For which she was mildly thankful for, given the look Oz had. However, she could see the potioneer’s fingers tightening around the glass orb in her hand.

“Tzheitza?” Alyssa said softly, not wanting to startle the woman. She really hadn’t wanted to say anything at all as it risked drawing the woman’s ire from its current target. At the same time, she really didn’t want any accidents that might possibly fill the entire shop with poison gas… or whatever that orb did.

Thankfully, it got her grip to go slightly slack. Unfortunately, it also got Oz looking in her direction.

“Oh! I’m glad you are here. I need to get my payment from you.”

Alyssa put on her most polite smile. “I’ll tell you what, Oz. You don’t ask for my money again and I don’t go telling people that you abandoned a contract midway, promising to come back only to not show up for three days. I would hate to hear that no one wants to hire you because of your poor reputation.”

“We had a contract,” he said, tone firm and serious.

“A contract you broke. But I admit my ignorance. Should we go down to the guild and speak with that nice scribe and see if she can clear up the proper protocol in this situation? I’m sure Tzheitza would love to attend as well as an entirely impartial commentator on the series of events.”

“Hmph.” At first, he scowled, but that scowl disappeared quick enough with a good natured grin. “I’ll let you off this time. Don’t have time to argue over one altus. Tzhei, this job is from Vizier Setesh himself. Three hundred altus.”

Tzheitza took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and slowly let it out. “Three hundred altus I’ll never see after yeh leavin’ me trapped ‘neath ten hoggle stone!”

“In my defense, I couldn’t have known that you survived after that whole tomb collapsed on you. Besides, this will be different. I’ve already spoken with Lumen and Catal. They both agree that if you join us, we’ll use the upfront to pay for your entire share.”

“Zoast bekked kott,” Tzheitza mumbled under her breath. “What’s the job?”

“A simple investigation. A fairy was captured during the attack. It apparently came from a small community in the northern desert. There’s a little oasis where they make their home. We’re to observe any oddities and, if possible, discover any Juno Federation outposts near the area.”

“Four Knights Solaris to scout?” she said with a scoff. “Tell me everything, Ozheim.”

“Well, three and a retired—” He jumped back as Tzheitza’s muscles tensed. “There’s a… side objective.”

“’Course there is.”

“We’re to annihilate the fairy commune. Lumen can cast spells, but she specializes in precision. Your potions are more wide scale. We could destroy it from a distance.”

Alyssa pressed her lips together and furrowed her brow. For two reasons. First, he sounded far too casual about destroying a village, or the fairy equivalent. They were monsters, but they hadn’t done anything wrong. The one Bercilak had in a cage had clearly not been there willingly. It wasn’t like the fairies had joined up with the other monsters to attack the city.

Secondly, from context, Lumen was an arcanist. If she specialized in precision spells, it would make sense for her to be unable to deal area damage on the fly. But they were being informed of this well in advance. What was stopping her from just going and preparing a few cards that acted like bombs? Unless they were leaving literally right this second. “When are you leaving?” she asked.

“Toward the end of next week, some time. It is a fairly urgent quest and someone else will be given the opportunity if we take too long, but one does not simply head into the desert without preparing. Need to get my gear repaired which will be a week at minimum.”

“Huh.” Alyssa deepened her frown. Even if Lumen didn’t know any bomb-like spells, was a week not enough time to find out? Maybe she wasn’t allowed in the Observatorium for some reason and none of her fellow guild-mates would share spells under the assumption that they might be able to take the quest instead.

“Nosee village. Never find it. Waste o’ time. Three hundred altus? Totcount for the side quest? Two I’ll bet.”

Oz shifted his weight from side to side. When he didn’t respond, Tzheitza shook her head with a scoff. She headed straight into the back room without another word, leaving Alyssa standing awkwardly in the middle of the shop.

“How about you?”

“Me?” Though surprised at first, Alyssa quickly put on a scowl. “I’m not going to destroy a fairy village… uh… with my gun,” she quickly added. “It isn’t that destructive.”

“Aren’t you some sort of arcanist? What specializations have you picked up?” Oz, thankfully, didn’t seem to notice the slight slip in her words.

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alyssa said, somewhat honestly. Aziz’s notebook had mentioned magic specializations, but given that he couldn’t even cast Rank Zero spells, they hadn’t been too heavily mentioned. All she knew was that most higher tier magic was divided into classes. The spell Irulon had given her had been a Death spell, a subdivision dealing with a variety of dark effects. Supposedly. The Spectral Chains spell Bercilak’s goons had used was apparently Death magic as well. Both seemed entirely innocuous to Alyssa unless the chains spell was using actual souls to bind people. Given Tenebrael’s dietary habits, she doubted it was anything like that.

“Guess I was wrong,” Oz mumbled. “Still, you do owe me at least a little, right? At least for introducing you to Tzheitza. Maybe you could talk to her? She seems to like you a whole lot more than me.”

I didn’t leave her buried in a tomb, she thought. No wonder Tzheitza was willing to put up with her if something like that was in her past. Left behind in a tomb by what were presumably trusted comrades? Still, as much as she wanted to speak her mind, she didn’t. Nodding her head, if only to get Oz to leave for the time being, Alyssa said, “I’ll think about it, though I don’t know how convincing I’ll be.”

“Just get her talking about the good old days when she was a Knight. She’ll remember how much she loves the job.”

“Well, I am a little curious. No promises on the results, however.”

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Oz said with a grin, opening the front door. A light ring echoed off the jars and bottles from the little bell. “Do hurry though. I’d much rather have Tzhei watching my back than anyone else I could grab.”

“Surely there is someone among the guild you can trust.”

“Trust isn’t the issue. I’ve never met a woman with more sheer destructive potential when compared to Tzhei. When I was young and stupid, Tzhei was in her prime. She and her group were the highest tier the guild had to offer at the time—they took on all the most difficult quests. Everyone looked up to them. Oh, you would not believe how starstruck I was when she spoke to me the first time.” Oz chuckled to himself with a shake of his head, though his smile didn’t last. “That was a long time ago though. Now, well…” Shaking his head again, he gave Alyssa a far more sardonic smile. “Maybe avoid the topic of the tomb. And avoid the dragon incident. Oh, and don’t mention that time when she slipped into the pool of living slime—it’s a real laugh but a sure way to tick her off. Stick with how she got into adventuring with the guild in the first place. That should be a safe topic.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, wondering far more what exactly made her stop adventuring than what got her started. Oz sounded like a kid with major idol worship going on. If the guild could be likened to celebrities, what got her into it was probably far less interesting. Of course, it sounded like something bad had happened to get her to quit. Maybe avoiding it would be for the best.

“Anyway,” Oz said, smiling once again. “Good luck. You’ll need it.”

As soon as he shut the door behind him, Alyssa walked up and latched it closed. How annoying. Maybe she was being a bit harsh on him. His history with Tzheitza aside, he didn’t seem like such a bad guy. Not pressing for the money she might technically owe him hadn’t hurt her impression of him. Though how much of him dismissing it was because of her threats and his greed over this new job’s pay did make her wonder whether he would have pressed harder under other circumstances.

Ah well. He was a mercenary. Everything he did was for money. Of course, ditching her for three full days was completely unprofessional. Sure, he might have left her in the hands of some legendary former knight, but he could have at least followed through on his promise to get back to her in the morning.

And was Tzheitza really all that legendary? She had gotten captured just as easily as Alyssa had and even went off the cliff at the end.

Maybe she was rusty. Or maybe she was used to real teammates backing her up, rather than Alyssa.

Reentering the back room, Alyssa found the potioneer seated in front of the fireplace, drinking a red liquid from a glass. A real glass, not a wooden mug or tankard or whatever else most people drank out of. It was some kind of wine. The one glass Alyssa had tried had been a bit too fruity for her tastes, but both the wine and the glass spoke of her affluence. None of it could be cheap. One of her deliveries today, a dozen or so high-end potions, had gone for thirty altus. Did she even need to go on a long, tiresome, and potentially dangerous quest for… what… Seventy-five altus? Assuming the three hundred would be split evenly between her, Oz, and the two others Oz had mentioned. Sure, there was a cost to making the potions in terms of materials and labor that Alyssa didn’t know, but it obviously wasn’t enough to impact her fine wine drinking.

It seemed ridiculous that she would even consider going. Not unless she wanted to relive the glory days or something equally foolish.

Rather than take her seat again, Alyssa moved to one of the wooden crates in the corner of the room. She flipped open the lid and pulled out a cold slab of meat. One of Tzheitza’s many potions was a blue gel that radiated cold. It made a fairly effective refrigerator. Of pretty much everything Alyssa had seen in this world, the refrigerator made her happiest. It meant that not only was food kept good longer than normal, but that the people of this world knew the value of refrigeration.

Unfortunately, aside from Tzheitza, it apparently wasn’t that common. Merchants used it. Nobles as well—the palace was one of her largest customers. Regular people didn’t stockpile much food. Especially not things like meat.

Having already asked where everything she needed was the night before, Alyssa got started slicing the meat and some vegetables—carrot slices and potato chunks for the most part. Using just a pinch of steak seasoning from her pack, she pressed it into the meat. There were these metal skewers all around the potion lab. Alyssa wasn’t sure what they were supposed to be for, but Tzheitza had said that they should be alright to eat off. She still soaked them in boiling water for a good twenty minutes before sliding the meat and vegetables onto them.

Taking them back to a rack near the fireplace, she got them started cooking. The rack was probably for heating potions, but it would work just fine for food. “Shish kebabs,” Alyssa said with a smile to Tzheitza. “Though I assume you have a similar dish here. It isn’t that creative. I wish I had some good sauce, but this will still be delicious.”

Since she had met Tzheitza, Alyssa hadn’t eaten poorly. Porridge still, yes. For breakfast in the mornings. But the porridge wasn’t half as watery. It was a whole lot more like good oatmeal. Still, the experience of two weeks of travel bread and runny meals in the villages was fresh in her mind. As it turned out, Tzheitza could make all sorts of potions, but a good meal wasn’t in her skill list. Hence things like porridge or dried jerky.

“Smells good,” Tzheitza said after a few minutes of them cooking. “Greasin’ me up afore asking about my past?”

“Heard that did you? But no. I asked you if I could make this the night before. I’m just following through on that plan. If you wanted to talk, I wouldn’t stop you. But honestly, you seem to make plenty of money here. I don’t know why you would even consider Oz’s quest.”

“Coins ain’t an issue. Mayhaps were I another potioneer. One less respected. But it isn’t… impactful. I see little result from my efforts. Not like my old days where I hunt down some rottymix and save a village.”

Silence fell over the two. Using a thick cloth, Alyssa rotated the kebabs as she thought. Glory sounded like a much more understandable reason for going on quests. At least for someone like Tzheitza. Or maybe not glory. Just knowing that her actions were resulting in something worth the effort. Stuck here in her potion lab all day, she never even got to see how her potions were used. Sure, she could imagine that her explosive orbs would be used to clear away some debris from the wall. It was a far difference from seeing them used herself.

It was probably why she had jumped at the opportunity to attack Bercilak and his goons. Alyssa had barely needed to say a word to get her going to the Brechen Overlook. Tenebrael had mentioned Divine Inspiration, but unless that permanently altered Tzheitza’s personality, the potioneer would likely have headed up to the overlook anyway.

Maybe she was yearning for those old days. Well, if she did end up leaving on her little quest, hopefully she would let Alyssa stay in her shop.

At the moment, Alyssa wasn’t paying anything. No rent. Not even for food. While she didn’t think she was too hard up for cash with Svotty’s haul, it would be great if she could make that last just a little bit longer.

“Think they’re about done.” Using the cloth, she pulled off one of the kebabs. After blowing for a moment to cool down the first chunk of meat, she pulled it off and popped it into her mouth. Hot. Really hot. But tender and just a bit smoky. For her, used to propane grilled steaks, the camp fire taste to it was surprisingly good. A bit overly juicy. She actually wasn’t sure what kind of meat it was. It looked like a nice cut of steak, but it wasn’t quite.

She was a bit too afraid to ask… What if it was a slice of whatever species Rizk was?

Suppressing a shudder, Alyssa finished off the rest of the meat and vegetables crammed on the rod and picked up a second helping. To her side, Tzheitza was eating as well. Though she had yet to comment, she was on her third stick. So she must be enjoying them.

Ah well, eating in silence was fine with Alyssa. Tzheitza was fairly calm at the moment with her food and alcohol, but her words got increasingly headache inducing as she got herself worked up over something. Asking her about her past would almost certainly delve into unintelligible territory sooner rather than later. So Alyssa stood after finishing off the food. “I’ll keep delivering your potions for the next few days. Maybe after, but I wouldn’t count on it for long. I have appointments and other things to do.”

“Thas fine. We’ll work something out. Ye headin’ to bed?”

“I’m pretty used to walking around all day, but it’s still tiring,” Alyssa said, punctuating her statement with a yawn. “There will be more things to deliver in the morning, right?”

“Mixed up a few today. Will have more tomorrow after I set some cookin’ o’er night.”

“Alright. I’ll see about taking care of them tomorrow. Good night, Tzheitza.”

Alyssa’s room was attached to the back room. A back-back room. It was right next to the storage room and had been a storage room at one point in time with plenty of not-so empty shelves. However, Tzheita had put a bed in it. The bed had been there long before Alyssa, so it wasn’t like she had turned it into a guest room just for her. Even though it was a bit cramped, she wasn’t about to complain.

It was a safe spot to store her gear. Every time she entered, she still checked to ensure no one had disturbed it. Just in case. But no one ever had. It was probably safer here than any inn. Another reason why she wanted to stay if at all possible.

After ensuring that nothing had been touched, she flopped down onto her bed.

And promptly regretted flopping. It couldn’t hold a candle to a modern bed. It was hard, lumpy, and somewhat scratchy. Not nearly as much as the bed in Yzhemal’s inn; it was so much better than any night between Teneville and Lyria, that was for sure. Even still, she was using her sleeping bag to help give additional padding.

Before actually sleeping, she sat back up and pulled out both Aziz’s notebook and the deck of spells she had stolen from Bercilak. She had cross referenced a few to discover what the spells were, but not all of the cards were in the notebook. The only reason she had found out which were fireballs was because Bercilak’s deck had some while his goon’s deck didn’t.

She had figured out which were Spectral Chains in much the same way. When confronting Tenebrael and Iosefael, she had grabbed a handful of the cards in each hand and had hoped that the chains were among them.

As she huddled near one of the jars of light, the air shifted. The door hadn’t opened, but something still moved.

“Hello, Kasita,” Alyssa said without looking up. “Nice of you to finally show yourself. What have you been disguising yourself as all day?”

“Ufu~ I wonder.”

The voice was far too close to Alyssa’s ear for her comfort. She jumped and scooted down the bed a bit, glaring at the buxom woman.

Which had been just the reaction Kasita had been looking for. Her soft giggles filled the air. They slowly died off as she schooled her expression. “What are you going to do about the fairies?”

“What? Nothing. Why would I do anything to them?”

“You’re not going to save their village?”

Alyssa took a deep breath and let it out as a sigh. “Look. I might have given you the wrong impression of me. I’m not someone who wanders around looking for monsters to save. I don’t have anything against monsters in the slightest; I didn’t grow up with all the indoctrination that these people have. But I’m not some savior either. Even if I was going to try to stop this little quest, I don’t know how I could. Maybe I could convince Tzheitza not to go. Maybe I could convince Oz not to go. The guild would just get more people to do it in their place.”

Kasita went utterly still. It was like looking at a photograph for all of three seconds before she heaved an exaggerated sigh. “I know. I never assumed you were that altruistic. But I did feel you tense when they mentioned destroying the fairies. I assumed you had a plan.”

“You felt me tense? Just what were you?” Alyssa said as she started looking around for anything missing. Her watch was still there. She didn’t wear any earrings or other jewelry. Her belt, pistols, and holsters were in place, both the hip and arm holsters. Ugh. What else had she carried around with her all day close enough to feel her skin?

Of course, Kasita just giggled again without answering.

“Don’t worry about it too much. Since you were obviously on me, you heard Tzheitza say that the village would be hidden. Or invisible. Whatever nosee means. I assume it means that people won’t be able to find it easily.”

“Bercilak found it.”

“Well, I can’t help that.” For just an instant, Alyssa almost asked if Kasita had a better idea. Her decision not to wonder about it aloud was solely because of her fear that Kasita did have a plan. “I’ve got too much else to worry about.”

“Those invisible creatures from the other night? I must say, I’ve never encountered a monster I could put my hands through like that. Well, slimes. But that’s different. Slimes are tangible. Those things… I could tell something was there but I couldn’t understand what. You’ve been awfully cagey about them, even to Tzheitza.”

“Yes, well…” They were already speaking quietly. Alyssa dropped the volume of her voice even more until she was barely whispering. The door, though made of thick wood, wasn’t thick enough for her comfort. “I don’t know if there are laws against heresy or blasphemy, but I do know that no one here likes ‘those heretics in the Juno Federation.’”

“Heresy or blasphemy?” Kasita leaned in closer, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Against who… Tenebrael?”

“Please don’t tell me that monsters worship her too.” That would be just her luck. Maybe she should try crossing the desert to find this Federation. The only problem was that crossing green hills, forests, and plains had been enough of a nightmare. Crossing a who-knew-how-wide desert would be a literal Hell.

“Not so much as how the humans do. Tenebrael is definitely a creature that exists. There is enough empirical evidence for that. But she is more thought of as something akin to the Monster Lords. You’re… not telling me that I put my hand through Tenebrael’s body, are you?”

“No. No. One of her friends? Co-workers? A being cut from the same cloth as Tenebrael.”

“There were two of them though. One in the chains and one that broke out almost instantly.”

“They call themselves angels,” Alyssa said, avoiding answering directly. “I don’t know why I can see them. No one else can as far as I can tell. Well, not unless they’re dying.”

“Angels,” Kasita repeated as if she were tasting the word.

“Never heard of them?”

“Nope. Never. So there’s more than one creature of Tenebrael’s type?”

“There isn’t supposed to be. That’s what they were fighting about, more or less. It’s… complicated. I don’t even understand it all. I just get caught up with their shenanigans on occasion because I can see them.” And isn’t that the understatement of a lifetime. Shaking her head, Alyssa glared at Kasita. She really didn’t want to get on the topic of angels. In fact, she probably shouldn’t have said what she had already said. It was interesting that monsters believed in but didn’t worship Tenebrael, but what if Kasita had been just as sycophantic as Lazhar? Things could have turned out poorly. They technically still could if Kasita was lying. Alyssa didn’t get that impression though.

“Anyway,” Alyssa said, forcing the topic away. “I’ve apparently got a long day delivering packages tomorrow. So I’m going to get some sleep. And no offense intended, but I would rather have you not in my room while I’m sleeping. On a related note, I don’t mind at all if you follow me around, but please tell me first. It’s creepy finding out that I’ve been carrying you around all day.”

Crossing her arms, Kasita huffed. “You’re no fun at all.”

“Yep. No fun. That’s me. Now get out!”


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Author’s Notes: Hello everyone, no big note today. Just a weekly reminder to vote on Top Web Fiction! Thanks!

010.001

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Brewing Trouble

Potion Delivery Service


Things calmed down over the course of a few days. The city had been attacked by monsters, but everyone was pretty much back to normal as soon as three days later. At least, Alyssa assumed things were normal. Having only been in the city for less than a day before the attack, she couldn’t be entirely sure.

People in the streets were going about their business. They passed hither and thither, without much hurry. No one was scared to be out on the streets. If anything, they were calmer than before the attack. Which might have something to do with the overabundance of guards stationed around. Alyssa really hadn’t been out to the north side of the city before the attack, but up here, guards patrolled every street and every alley at all hours of the day. No one wanted a stray goblin to pop out of some hiding hole and go on a rampage against civilians who couldn’t defend themselves. With the wall still damaged, it was conceivable that more monsters could sneak in as well. Hence the guards.

Alyssa doubted it. But then, she knew that the monsters had been mind controlled. An individual goblin or troll would likely flee from the city rather than try to get inside. At least, she would flee if all alone. Maybe they wouldn’t. They would be foolish not to, but maybe they couldn’t think so intelligently. The goblins she had seen hadn’t looked all that intelligent, after all.

Reconstruction efforts were ongoing. Or rather, they were clearing away rubble from what little was left of the wall. The damage was more than just a hole or two. Almost half of the wall between the towers had collapsed entirely. Which seemed awfully weak to Alyssa. What good was a wall if a troll could plow through it easier than the Kool-Aid Man. Guards stood around, both to watch for stray goblins and to watch the workers. All of whom were in chains.

Slaves.

Most weren’t human. Some might have been, but they could just as easily be monsters that looked human at a first glance. If they were human, Alyssa didn’t know why they were slaves. There wasn’t a correlation with skin tone as might have been expected back on Earth. Maybe they were from that country north of the desert that she had heard about. Maybe they were heretics or criminals. Maybe the pharaoh or other nobles just didn’t like them. Whatever put them in chains, they weren’t alone in their toiling. A majority of the slaves were undoubtedly inhuman. One larger troll, maybe even a female of the species, hefted a massive chunk of wall onto a horse-drawn cart. Not far away, a lizard much like Rizk was moving rubble as well. There were a few things that Alyssa couldn’t put a name to also toiling under the watchful eyes of the guards.

Shaking her head, Alyssa turned away from the wall. The trolls had certainly done a number on it, but it hadn’t all been them. Three houses right near the wall had been effectively turned to powder. Several more, all in a nice straight line, had large holes torn through them. Right in the front of it all, in the center of the destruction, someone had erected a small monument. Just a little ziggurat about waist high.

Someone had drawn Tenebrael’s eye tattoo in dark black paint on the top surface. A monument to her protection.

Alyssa couldn’t help but scoff.

Not a single person had been hurt when the wall and houses exploded. Apparently all thanks to Tenebrael. Of course, no one asked why she didn’t bother protecting anyone else who had died that evening. Either the soldiers dying or the random people who had wound up with the poor fortune to come across a troll or goblin in the city. Ugh. It pissed her off. They saw miracles where they wanted to see miracles and ignored everything else as simply the way things had to be.

A part of her just wanted to jump on top of the little ziggurat and shout out that Tenebrael had been the one to destroy the buildings and that the only reason she hadn’t hurt anyone was because she literally couldn’t. Angels were forbidden from harming humans.

But she also didn’t want to be labeled as a heretic or associated with the country to the north, apparently populated entirely by heretics. Especially not after an attack on the city. She would probably wind up crucified. Literally.

Gritting her teeth, she walked on until she found her destination. A large white-grey tent that had been set up just outside the wall. Not like a camping tent. More like the tents around sporting events. Except with walls. A rest and organization area for the guards monitoring the wall’s cleanup. She doubted the slaves got much rest. But she nodded to the guard outside the tent, biting her tongue regarding her actual feelings on the whole reconstruction process.

He held up a hand. “Hold. What’s your business here?”

“Potion delivery from Tzheitza. I should be expected.”

“Let her in,” a voice called from inside the tent.

The guard pressed his lips together but didn’t argue. He pushed aside the strip of cloth that served as the door for the tent, allowing her access.

Giving him another nod, Alyssa walked inside.

It wasn’t a large space, being a tent, but it was empty enough that it wasn’t crowded. Several seats were set about the place, mostly around a large keg. She wasn’t sure if it held alcohol or water or something else entirely, but two guards had their helmets off, quietly talking near it. Alyssa ignored them, heading straight for the desk in the back and the woman hunched over papers.

“Captain Oxart?”

The woman brushed her long ponytail back over her shoulder. She started to say something before looking up, but paused as soon as she met Alyssa’s eyes. “You again? I thought you were a traveler, not a delivery girl. Hope you’re not here telling me about another assault.”

“No. And not my intended profession, I assure you.”

“Needed the money huh?”

“Not really,” Alyssa said as she unslung a large leather bag from her shoulder. It was a specially designed bag just for carrying large amounts of potions. The exterior was somewhat hard, providing some protection from mild impacts. The inside was divided up into tons of compartments, each varying in size. Some were large for holding the orbs Tzheitza had used as weapons. Some were small for thinner vials. The bag kept any glass from knocking against any other bit of glass. A good thing too. Some of the potions she had for delivery weren’t exactly safe sounding, even if she didn’t know the exact effects. “I’ve got twelve dissolution orbs, three explosive flames, eight consolidants, and two anti-sleep aids.” As she spoke, she set each of the orbs and vials down on the desk in a neat little row. “Tzheitza would like to inform you that she is not responsible for any injuries, health problems, or deaths that may arise from misusing the potions. Also, you shouldn’t take two of the sleep aids in a row. Get at least one full night of sleep between doses.”

“Only three explosives?”

“She’s in the process of making more,” Alyssa said robotically. This wasn’t the first time she had to explain a lack of potions today. “Unfortunately, some of her mixed compounds were damaged in the attack.” Which wasn’t true at all. Tzheitza’s store had come out entirely untouched. It was the potionmaker’s injuries that were delaying the potion making. “Nothing catastrophic, but she is having to remake them from raw materials. It is taking a bit longer than expected. Tzheitza is willing to allow a deferred payment until the rest of the explosive flames have been completed.”

“I see. Well, this should be enough to get started clearing away larger portions of the damaged wall. I swear, whoever originally designed this section intended for it to be brittle garbage. No wonder the trolls had such an easy time breaking through it.”

Alyssa blinked. That sounded interesting. Leaning forward, she asked, “Do you suspect it was just incompetence? Or intentional sabotage?”

“That’s for the masons to decide. I’m just in charge of keeping order. And,” she waved a hand at her desk, “dangerous materials, of course.”

“Ah. I see.” Reaching back into the bag, she pulled out a slip of paper. “I need your signet confirming that we have delivered the potions present and that you will be deferring payment until the remainder can be delivered.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled, snatching the paper from Alyssa’s fingers. After looking over it for a moment, she nodded. The tent wasn’t in need of any lighting. Sunlight hitting the white-grey walls was enough to illuminate the interior well enough to read even small text. However, there was a small candle on the desk. One made from brilliant red wax. She grabbed the handle of the little brass tray and tilted it to the side. Some of the liquid wax poured off the side, pooling on the sheet of paper. She waited a moment, letting it partially cool before curling her fingers and pressing her ring into the soft wax. “There you go. Please tell Tzheitza to hurry with those explosives. I miss my office.”

“Will do,” Alyssa said as she looked over the wax seal, making sure that it was well and visible. Two horns crossing each other with a sword down the middle. She might have said that it looked demonic, except for the captain’s name. Oxart. Maybe the horns were supposed to be those of an ox. Either way, it looked fine to her. Since the wax was still soft, she placed it carefully in a special hard box made specifically for storing these kind of receipts. “I’ll be on my way then.”

“You two!” Oxart barked out as Alyssa left the tent. “Go find mason Manuel. Let him know his potions have arrived.”

Alyssa didn’t pay them any attention as they bustled off to some other section of the working area. She didn’t really care about the wall building efforts. In fact, the less she thought about it, the better. Slaves. Really, she should have expected it. This was a medieval society and she had already seen the elven slaves around the city and the whole state of the Waterhole. Some part of her had hoped that those owners were in some way criminals, not the governing body. At the very least, she hoped that the slaves were criminals. Violent criminals at that. Someone, monster or not, who had merely been caught loitering shouldn’t have to work hard labor.

Ah well. Nothing she could do about it. Trying to free the slaves would just end up with her in chains next to them. A few gang members was one thing. Fighting the city wouldn’t work out half as well. Ultimately, Alyssa had to look out for herself first and foremost. Maybe Tenebrael could get her out of a spot of trouble, but she wasn’t about to count on it. If anything, that angel would show up ten years down the line, offering to free her in return for complete loyalty. After ten years of hard labor and who knew what else as a slave, Alyssa might even be completely willing to accept it.

No. In this world, she had to look out for herself and could only rely on herself. Best to not stick her nose in things that she couldn’t change anyway.

Deliveries finished for the day, she headed straight back to Tzheitza’s potion shop. It had been a nice place to stay for the past few days. A bit… foul smelling. Hopefully nothing that would affect her health. Bottles and jars lined the walls. Up in the front windows were some large glass carboys of varying shapes and sizes, all filled with liquid in a variety of colors. Apparently it was just colored water. No magical potion at all. They were purely for attracting customers. The shelves were also mostly fakes. A few were real here and there, but the glass bottles, orbs, and vials were just for show. With them just sitting out, they were too easy to steal.

Though anyone willing to steal from Tzheitza might as well toss themselves off the top of Brechen Overlook. The woman was scary when she was in a poor temper.

The real valuable items were either in the back room or behind the counter. The wall directly behind the counter was covered in jars and containers. Unmixed potion reagents. The counter wasn’t so much a sales kiosk as it was a preparation area. There were extremely precise scales, mortar and pestles—apparently it was too much of a pain to draw out the spell cards for Grind compared to just crushing whatever needed crushing by hand—measuring devices, squeezing devices, and a little magical burner that somewhat resembled the Bunsen burners in high school chemistry class.

When a customer came in to request a simple, easy potion, she would mix it right there at the counter. Some potions apparently required time, maybe they had to sit over a low flame for a few hours or remain open-topped under the moonlight for a full night, as ridiculous as that might sound. In those cases, the customer would have to return later. But anything quick could be made right in front of their eyes.

Behind that wall, the back room was somewhat similar. It had measuring instruments and reagents. The big difference was the scale. Being a well-known potioneer, Tzheitza often got bulk contracts from the guild or the city or even just traveling merchants. As such, she needed a place to mass produce her potions. That was what the back room was for.

Tzheitza was off in one of the side rooms when Alyssa entered the shop. Little private rooms partitioned off from the rest of the shop floor with fancy wood and glass windows. A customer was inside the room with her, sleeve of his shirt rolled up as she smeared some brownish gunk over his skin. Not wanting to interrupt, Alyssa headed into the back room and dropped off the potion bag. With a sigh, she sank into one of the chairs and pulled out her notebook.

Just a little notebook she had started some time ago. It contained notes on just about anything she thought might be important to keep track of. Things about the world, about monsters, about magic, and a few miscellaneous items as well. It also had her list. She had finally sat down and wrote one out.

1. Clean water and food.

2. Shelter.

3. Money.

4. Clothing.

5. Magic.

a. Magic to replace the above list items?

b. Magic for self defense.

c. Magic to defend against angels.

d. Magic to get home.

Before making the list, she had gone all harried thinking about every little thing that she needed. When she actually got around to making the list, it turned out to be much smaller than she had expected. Of course, this was only what she absolutely needed. There were several side items that were more or less just desires. Potion making, for instance. Maybe adding some entertainment wouldn’t be bad. She was stuck here. She would not mope about it. Nothing would get done if she did. But constantly working, even if it was to get home, would wind up with Alyssa driving herself insane.

But what did people do for fun in a medieval society? Drank a lot, probably. They visited whorehouses like the Waterhole. What else? Croquet? Maybe there were some A Knight’s Tale style jousting tournaments. That might be fun to watch. Plays, maybe?

That got her wondering how receptive the society here would be to fiction. Would people enjoy Shakespeare? Harry Potter? The Pirates of Penzance? Obviously, she couldn’t recite the works of Shakespeare word for word, but she knew the plots and could probably fill in the gaps with her own made up nonsense. Gilbert and Sullivan, she could probably sing every line from half their works, but composing the music would be well beyond her. Did a medieval society have orchestras and bands? Maybe once she got her phone back, she could—

Alyssa shook her head. Before anything else, especially entertainment, she needed to get the first four items of her list out of the way. At the very least. Technically, here with Tzheitza, she had food and shelter. Maybe even money. There was just a small problem. Delivering potions took up far too much of each day.

The front door jingled as it opened. It had a little bell suspended above it to warn of any customers, just like a modern business might. Alyssa couldn’t be sure if someone had come or if the customer had gone, but Tzheitza’s heavy footsteps made their way to the back door soon enough. She threw it open, took one look at Alyssa, sighed, and took a seat in another of the chairs with a pained groan as she rubbed at her stomach.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Alyssa asked. “Don’t need to heal up a little more?”

“‘Sfine,” she mumbled out, closing her eyes.

“What were you putting on that customer’s arm? He didn’t dress like he could afford your healing potion. Wouldn’t that help?”

“Oil o’ Earthworm. Nothindo.”

“Oil of Earthworm,” Alyssa repeated slowly. “As in actual earthworms?”

“Boil n’ mash. Plus olive oil and a splash of wine. Slather on bruises or cuts. It ain’t gonna do anything ‘cept make people think it does something.”

Alyssa pulled back her lip in disgust. Why would she even make it if it didn’t help? Well, the placebo effect was well documented as working for several things, even things it shouldn’t work for. Still, selling a cure in good conscience knowing it was worthless?

Well, if the guy thought it worked and was happy with his purchase, she couldn’t really argue against that.

Pressing her lips together, Alyssa considered not saying what she was about to say. But ultimately, this was taking up far too much time. “I think I’m going to quit,” she said.

“Quit!” Tzheitza snapped her head up. “Whatcha wronglike? Need more pay?”

“No, no. I’ve seen how much you’re selling the potions for and think I’m getting a fair amount for delivering them, but that is the problem. When I offered to help you out, I was kind of maybe thinking that you might teach me how to make potions, not just spend all day half lost running around the city because I don’t know my way around. There are things I need to do. And in three days—” assuming the attack on the city hadn’t disrupted matters, “—I’m not going to be able to deliver things anyway. I’ve got an… appointment.”

“Work until then! I canne deliver while injured.”

“I’m sure you could hire someone from the guild. Or just a random person out on the streets,” she added, thinking back to the people she had spotted loitering around Waters Street.

“Guild means gold,” she said, basically admitting that she was underpaying Alyssa. Though it didn’t really matter. Alyssa still had a sack full of money. “Need trust too.”

“You trust me? We only met a few days ago.”

“Ah, but we fought together. Builds trust. Then ye could have left me to die there, come back to the shop, looted the entire place.” She smiled for a moment. Just a moment. That smile quickly turned to a scowl. “Though if ye leave, mayhaps that blasted mimic’ll leave too. Where’s it now?”

“Uh…” The last time Alyssa had seen Kasita had been… when… breakfast? She had definitely been there, though she hadn’t eaten. In fact, Alyssa hadn’t seen Kasita eat anything since meeting her. After breakfast, Alyssa had gone off to deliver things and had only just returned.

“I swear I’ll burn down this whole shop.” Without leaving her chair, she reached up to the nearby mantle and pulled off a piece of paper. A spell card.

“Now now,” Alyssa said, trying to placate the woman. “I’m sure there’s no need to go that far. Kasita is probably somewhere around. Maybe sleeping.” Maybe avoiding you, she didn’t say.

“Maybe cracking a choking gas orb to kill us both. Ye shouldn’t defend her.”

“She saved our lives.” Twice, in Alyssa’s case, though she wasn’t about to mention the first time. At least twice now, Tzheitza had casually tried to kill Kasita. Both times by slamming a knife through the mimic’s chest. She had just been chopping vegetables when Kasita walked by. In the next instant, Kasita had a dagger sticking out of her chest. To Alyssa, it looked more like reflexes or instinct than a deliberate attempt on the mimic’s life. Not that Tzheitza had apologized.

Still, it made Alyssa extremely wary of telling the potioneer about her helping several monsters escape the city. Especially given that Rizk was likely not half as accepting of humans as the others. Her story at the moment was simply that she had almost been sold to a whorehouse and that she and Kasita managed to escape. It was close enough to the truth.

Tzheitza whispered under her breath. “Flame.” The card in her hands pulsed with a red light and vanished. Just as when Alyssa had used the spell, a small candle-like flame appeared at the tips of her fingers. Reaching down to the fire pit beneath the mantle, she set some of the kindling aflame. Once fully burning, she reached over and set a larger log on top of the burning pile of kindling. “Your nosee monster destroyed half the district too,” she said in a soft voice.

That was another sore spot. It didn’t matter how many times she argued that there were two of them and that her ‘friend’ had helped them find Bercilak and had been trying to stop the other one. Of course, it didn’t help that Alyssa couldn’t identify them. What was she supposed to say? That one of the two angels destroying the city had been Tenebrael? That would never go over well.

Rather than start up that argument again, Alyssa stared into the burning wood. “Tzheitza, can you light a fire without magic?”

“Huh? ‘Course I can. Easy as mixing—”

“Without potions too. No magic. No potions. No stealing fire from your neighbors’ already lit candles or whatever.”

The potioneer tilter her head, frowning. “What are you saying?”

“Just a moment,” Alyssa said with a sigh. Standing up from her chair, she quickly moved to her room. As it turned out, almost every building that was a shop was also a home, either on a second floor or simply behind the main storefront. Tzheitza’s potion shop was no different, though it was quite a bit larger than most other homes given her affluence. Alyssa had her own private room complete with lighting. Though it hadn’t originally been a bedroom, but a storage room.

All the lights in jars that she had seen were not actually magic spells. They were potions. Mildly expensive enough that most homes didn’t use them, but still cheaper than keeping an area lit through candle power alone. Candles were nearly worthless, she had discovered. They lit up hardly anything without a ton of them and they ran down extremely quick relative to their cost. It was effectively Terry Pratchet’s boot theory. Poor people bought candles because they were individually cheaper. Rich people bought the magical potion lights because they could afford them. But in ten years’ time, someone using candles would have run through a thousand candles trying to keep the same space lit.

Of course, that was the reason most homes were dark after sunset. They didn’t want to waste their precious candles on nothing and would rather sleep through the darkness than try to stay awake.

It didn’t take long to find her fire striker. A long black rod with a short handle and a separate bit of metal to smack against it attached by a string. Not very impressive. To her. To others… She quickly took it back to Tzheitza.

“This,” Alyssa said, entering the room and holding up the rod, “is a striker. Bits of metal. Nothing magical about them. But if I smack them together—” She did so, sending a shower of sparks into the air over the fireplace. “—you can make sparks. Sparks that can catch bits of kindling on fire with a little luck and effort.” Being in possession of a lighter and matches, Alyssa considered showing them off as well. But one thing at a time.

“No magic?” Tzheitza asked, all but confirming that she hadn’t ever seen such a thing before.

“None. Just sparks. Surely you’ve seen a blacksmith making sparks as he hammers away at metal, right? Same thing here except handheld and easily carry—”

A chime from the front door bell interrupted Alyssa. She had arrived just before dark and Tzheitza didn’t accept new customers once night fell. Looking over, she raised an eyebrow.

“Tzhei? You around?” a voice called from the main room.

Tzheitza’s expression immediately darkened. “Ozheim,” she grumbled. “Dirty haberin traitor half-blood cheat devo—”

“Maybe we should see what he wants?” Alyssa said, more to cut off the potioneer’s diatribe of insults than because she wanted to speak to Oz. If he asked her for payment, she might have a few insults of her own. She had thought he had died in the attack until yesterday during a delivery to the guild. He hadn’t been present, but she had asked Laria, the guild’s scribe, about him. Surprise surprise to have found out he had not only survived, but brought in quite the bounty of ears as well.

As far as she was concerned, he had broken his contract by not showing up the morning after as agreed upon.

Tzheitza grumbled under her breath. More insults, probably. On her way to the door, she grabbed an orb from one of the tables. Not one of the nice healing potions. It was a sickly green color.

Swallowing her worry that it might actually get used, Alyssa followed after Tzheitza into the main room.


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Author’s Note: New additions on the character page for the City Guard and the Knights Solaris.

Alyssa’s Notes: Trolls, goblins, and draken. Oh my! I’ve also updated my list of spells with only two this time, the Death spell Spectral Chains and the Warp spell Recall. I got a whole deck of cards from the incident on Brechen Overlook, but I haven’t had a chance to go through them all just yet. I also considered adding a note to the magic pages about potions, only to start writing and realize that I really don’t know anything about potions. So that might be something I’ll have to do in the future.