Chapter 3: Chapter 2: The Beginning

After lying on the slightly dilapidated rooftop for a few more minutes, Neir stood.

“Where am I?” he murmured, not entirely confident about completely relying on his memories to navigate a city as large and disordered as Dolnd.

Thinking about it…he couldn’t even remember where his hideout was since as he paced through the streets distractedly while walking. However, since everyone in that building was marked with his soulfire, it wouldn’t be difficult for him to find a way back. 

He wasn’t planning on returning to Syra and the children yet, though.

Neir walked to the edge of the roof, leery eyes observing the silent streets. He jumped, rolling to a halt almost immediately after his feet met the cobblestoned pavement. 

Strolling leisurely, he soon saw another dealer loitering idly around a street corner. He approached the shady character.

The man saw him and grinned, exposing his rows of crooked white teeth. “Need something?” he rasped. “I got everything.”

“Yeah?” Neir said, feeling the weight of his pouch. It was firm and heavy with coins. “Do you have any…hrud?”

“Purple or red, which tickles your fancy?” the dealer responded smugly. 

“Red, I like the way it burns.”

The dealer snickered, retrieving a small leather pouch from one of the many pockets sewn to his thick coat, then pulled out a tiny red bead from within. “That’s ten copper coins.” he raised a brow. “You got ‘em?”

Neir deftly swiped the bead out of the man’s hand, pinching it between fingers at eye level. There was a sliver of magical essence within the drug. The dealer’s eyes bulged comically, and he unsheathed the dagger on his waist. 

“You…!” he pounced the next moment, dagger thrusting toward’s Neir’s throat.

Lithely, Neir stepped back, crushing the bead in his hand. The man’s movements were dull, lacking any kind of coordination. With his battle experience, these kinds of attacks were equivalent to a child flailing their fist at him.  

He sidestepped, dodging another clumsy attack, then opened his palm; blowing the red hrub powder into the man’s face. There was a short shriek as the red powder entered the dealer’s eyes.

“Trav…” he cursed, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. “I’ll kill you!”

Neir threw a few copper coins on the ground, close to the dealer’s booted feet. “Your name?” he asked, voice frigid. “And before you try to be a smart mouth, know that just as easily as I avoided your attacks, I can kill you.”

The man froze, hesitating. “...Elide,” he spat finally out, picking up the copper coins. He kept an eye glued on Neir. “No last name.”

“Of course not,” Neir said, amused. “Though your first name is quite noble in its own right. Kessrad for, ‘Shard of Dawn,’ correct? I wonder…is it a homage to our emperor?” 

The man snorted, wiping his dirt-stained fingers on his coat. “A common name—especially for fatherless bastard from the Raelil.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Neir admitted. “Anyhow, Elide, I have need of some information,” he continued. “Do you know where Baisal Ilkid resides?”

“The alchemist?” Elide said, scrunching his nose, still rubbing his puffy, teary eyes. He spat yellow phlegm on the ground, annoyed. “The bloody City Alchemist? That’s why you blinded me with hrud, to know where a damn city official lived?! You could’ve just asked!”

Neir scoffed at that. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, really, you bastard!” Elide whined, practically jumping in place. 

“Regardless of my actions, please lead me to the City Alchemist.”

The dealer jolted. “Lead?” he echoed, stepping back. “No, no, no! I can’t leave my spot unattended. I’ll give you directions, sure, but lead? There’s no way.”

“Elide,” Neir said sweetly, “I wasn’t asking.” 

The poor man cringed, barely able to conceal his annoyance. “...Gods be damned,” Elide whispered, walking forward with a resigned gait. “Why is it always me?”

***

Elide kept his back hunched as he moved through the streets, startled by every sound. He kept his head low, but his eyes seemed to notice every little detail under the moonlight. They cut sharp corners, always sticking to shady shortcuts, never following the main paths.

As they entered the central part of the city, the streets became visibly cleaner and occasionally they could see guards patrolling. It was as though they were in an entirely new town, or country even. Such was the segregation between the rich and the poor of the falling kingdom, Amiln. 

For a brief moment, Neir couldn’t help but wonder, if it wasn’t for the upcoming cataclysm would the emperor truly be able to guide humanity to a fairer future?

“Alright,” Elide suddenly said anxiously, looking around; a dangerous glint in his eyes. “This is as far as I go. You see the biggest manor at the end of the road? That’s Baisal’s house.”

“Thank you,” Neir said, nodding softly.

Clicking his tongue, Elide said nothing and scurried along, soon disappearing into the darkness of night. 

Neir looked around as he approached the estate. It was huge, a giant fence surrounded the large courtyard. The path leading to the front door of the manor was lined with decorative trees and flower-bearing shrubs. Near the tall, metal gate was a guardhouse.

“Step back, tramp,” a guard growled, threateningly touching the pommel of his sword as Neir got close to the gate. “What business have you here?”

At the sound of the boisterous voice, three more men exited the guardhouse to see what the commotion was about. When they saw a dirty, peasant man dumbly stare at the extravagant estate, they relaxed. 

“Oy, Jatin, why not just slap a little sense into the little bastard?” one of the newcomers said, making an annoyed expression. “He’s probably just out of his mind on this drug or another. A proper scare should get him back to reality.”

Jatin nodded, walking over, clenching and unclenching his fist. “Kid? Did you hear? Leave or—”

“Priksya has stumbled into a Lake of Silver.” Neir interrupted, staring at the approaching guard intently. The man stopped slightly and frowned, as if doubting the tramp in front of him had truly used Helathi; the language their lord made up. “Tell Baisal I have urgent news.”

“Captain?” Jatin said, looking back doubtfully at the older guard that advised him to scare Neir. 

The Captain gestured to one of his men with a tired expression. “Tirion, relay the message.” He sighed. “Make it quick.”

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Tirion obliged.

“As for you,” he continued, nodding at Jatin and his partner. They unsheathed their blades and took on attacking stances, ready to pounce Neir at the slightest false move. “Stay put.”

Neir did just that.

Shortly after, Tirion returned, yelling for the Captain to open the gate, a sophisticated old man and a young woman following behind him. The gate parted, creaking slightly.

Neir walked onto the property; towards the two people that came to greet him. They stalked him warily, the woman, in particular, tightly held the hilt of her stiletto firmly. Her sharp eyes taking in the entirety of his haggard form. Behind, a few guards trailed after him from a safe distance.

“You must be Aturi?” he asked the old man, briefly scanning his memories. Deference held within his voice. “Right hand of the ‘True Empire’? Nice to meet you.”

“...And who might you be?” Aturi asked, a brow twitching slightly. He waved away the guards who were an earshot away, confident in the young woman’s—Kallan’s skill with her blade. 

Neir gently scratched his head. “Can’t we head inside? I’m a little paranoid, you see.”

There was a brief moment of silence as Aturi seemed to contemplate the suggestion. “Very well,” he finally said, turning heel, his posture perfectly straight. “Follow. Silently.”

“After you,” Kallan whispered in a smoky voice.

Aturi lead him into the luxurious manor, and the potent scent of countless perfumes immediately assailed his nose. His nostrils flared, the smell was worse than he recalled. The air inside the building made even the chills from having Kallan stare at his back seem less uncomfortable. 

Nostalgia hit him.

“Through here,” Aturi said, holding a door open. His face showed slight confusion. “What is that expression?”

Smiling, Neir entered the spacious office, sitting on one of the chairs stationed in front of a maroon hardwood table. Aturi entered next, then Kallan—who moved to stand silently in a corner.

“So then,” Aturi said, taking his rightful seat, “I’ll ask again, what faction are you from?”

“Hanza,” Neir said.

“...What?” he said, eyes hard. “A delegate from the Highlands? Why didn’t we receive word of your arrival?”

Neir shrugged innocently. “I am but a messenger. The boss…he likes to do things without notice; he quite enjoys catching people by surprise.”

Aturi scoffed with disdain. “That bastard…if he keeps acting this way…” he let out a breath, calming almost immediately. “Tell me what Rrynd wants, and begone.”

“The thing is, I was instructed to talk directly to the Head,” Neir lied through his teeth. 

“That’s impossible.” 

A curt answer laced with unbreakable stubbornness. 

“I see,” Neir stood, turning to leave. “But if I may add something… unless Lord Rrynd’s words are heard and heeded, a war may splinter the factions completely.”

Aturi dismissively waved a hand, unbothered. “Tell that fool to keep childish threats for those who are beneath him.”

“It’s not a threat,” Neir said, glancing over his shoulder. “It is the inevitability brought forth by the end of our meeting. The lord…he has grown greedy, I’ve seen it.”

Aturi flinched slightly. He was the most influential crimelord on the continent, a man that held kings in his back pocket. A man, Neir knew for a fact, didn’t fear even the emperor’s evergrowing power, thus there was no way he was afraid of one of his own underlings. Still, he was also a man that acknowledged even the slightest issue as a brewing storm. He was a terrifyingly efficient and cautious being.

“...Fine,” he said after mulling. “I’ll entertain your lord for now.” Then, he left.

Neir sat down, inwardly sighing in relief. He didn’t know Rrynd, not really. Everything he just spewed out was reinforced by things he’d heard from Aturi’s own mouth in the past. In a way, that worked perfectly in his favor. He was just feeding the crimelord’s budding suspicions and paranoia to elicit the desired response.

Aturi returned, his expression showing displeasure. He gestured toward the statuesque woman in the corner with his chin. “Search him.”

Standing, Neir spread his arms out, defenseless. Kallan’s deft hands flitted across his body, patting him down. She swiftly stripped him of his belt and coin pouch, going as far as turning his pockets inside out.

Neir shuddered subconsciously. He didn’t feel or see her hands enter his pockets. ‘Ah…I used to be this weak, huh?’

Cold sweat crept down his back.

Kallan stopped silently groping him, seemingly satisfied. She stepped back, making way.

“Come,” Aturi said, stomping away. 

He didn’t hesitate, trailing after the old man through the broad hallways, then down a marble staircase. Finally, after a few minutes of constant descent, they stood in what seemed to be an underground antechamber. Glowing mana-infused gemstones were etched onto the dome ceiling, shining a gentle violet light throughout the room.

The air was stagnant with the harsh smells of burning herbs and chemicals, grating Neirs throat and irritating his lungs.

Aturi held a golden handkerchief to his nose. “Through the door,” he said, already starting to climb up the stairs. 

Neir cleared his throat, walking toward the sole door meters away. His even steps echoed in the chamber, and he couldn’t help but notice the unnatural way mana within the area acted. But since his core wasn’t formed, he couldn’t see the finer details of the magical energy’s flow.

The doorknob twisted with a crisp click, then there was a grating noise as Neir pushed the thick metal door open, revealing a cramped alchemical lab filled with a cluttered array of apparatuses, shelves, and tables.

Neir’s eyes shook slightly as they fell on the man standing over one of the tables. Baisal turned his head toward him and grinned, showing off his glowing teeth. They were alit with the same pale-cyan light radiating from his eyes. The color of the mana brimming within his body. 

“It seems another little mouse has found its way to my sanctuary.”

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