Chapter 46: Chapter 46: The Hineni-man has a secret, but he has many followers. A mystery. Are we careful? Maybe

Hineni stares at the darkness and the darkness returns the favor, peering his way through the glowing silhouettes of two large, yellow eyes.

 

He looks around himself, gazing down the many roads of the bustling city, before his eyes wander back towards the dark alley he’s standing in front of, that he had just been looking down through.

 

- Obscura is gone.

 

He sighs, shaking his head. A man can’t even leave the house in peace these days. Not that he ever actually wants to leave his house. But he was out here for a specific reason and it’s no good if he’s being trailed by a paranoid god. Ever since they’ve opened, she’s become a little clingy. Not that he minds that either. He really likes it, actually.

 

Then again, why is Obscura following him outside to begin with?

 

The man narrows his eyes, glancing around himself. Did she go home now? Or is she still floating around in the shadows, watching him carefully? Given the smell of owl in the air…

 

He ducks into an alley, which in and of itself, is already a dubiously shady place. However, it is, in fact, the shadiest of alleys in this entire neighborhood.

 

Adjusting his scarf, he pulls the brim of his hat down lower and keeps on walking, doing his best to ignore the gestures of different doormen, trying to call him into their various 'colorful' establishments. Those are no place for him though. He’s a not-really-but-sort-of-is married man, after all.

 

He walks down through the winding alley, which smells vaguely of lavender and smoke, until he finds what he’s looking for.

 

---

 

“Are you sure?” asks the merchant behind the counter. “No refunds.”

 

Hineni stares for a moment. It’s a lot of money and things are tight now as is. Honestly, maybe this is even a low-priority thing, if one were considering solely their literal and financial survival, the two of which might not be so easily separated from another. But…

 

“I’m sure,” says Hineni, pulling out a small satchel of coins and sliding a few of them across the counter. The man nods, the deal is sealed. A menu appears, confirming the purchase.

 

Suddenly, the shopkeeper stiffens up and leans over the counter, looking past him.

 

“NO LOITERING!” yells the man behind the counter very abruptly. Before he can look at the menu, Hineni instead turns around, surprised, in order to see what the man saw through the dusty window of the shop. Whoever was there has already ducked away. “Damn kids…” mutters the shopkeeper, shaking his head. “Wait here,” he says. “I’ll get it from the back.”

 

“Thank you,” nods Hineni, sparing a glance over his shoulder again a second time towards the window.

 

But there is nobody there.

 

---

 

Hineni rolls his shoulders back, exhaling to prepare himself. He doesn’t want to appear nervous, after all. Image matters a lot down in this neighborhood, and the deeper you vanish into its streets, the more abstract things like reputation matter. In many cases, it matters far more than money itself.

 

He looks around to make sure nobody is watching, before turning back towards the inconspicuous door and knocking on it three times.

 

A small covering slides open, revealing a pair of eyes behind the slit. “Password?”

 

“I’m not here to play,” says Hineni, shaking his head. He lifts his hand, showing the man a dagger of his making. “I’m with the owl-god. I want to make a deal.”

 

The slit slides closed again, the eyes vanishing and Hineni stands there for a moment, wondering if this is going to work.

 

A long minute passes and then the door opens. Herbal smoke, mixed in with an oddly damp smell, pours out of the door. “The boss will see you.”

 

Hineni nods, stepping inside, looking around at the dingy place.

 

Honestly, he’s never had much contact with any elements of society like this, let alone anyone in this entire district. But he had trailed so many adventurers and listened in on so many conversations during his phase of isolation, that he at least knew about all of this existing. At times like this, he realizes that he doesn’t even hate his past self or who he was. That person, that was just who he had to be in order to become who he is becoming now.

 

---

 

The well-dressed man looks at the window of the stat, ‘obscurantism’. He’s wearing a well-fitted outfit, belonging to someone of a noble’s background. It seems highly unbefitting of anyone in this district, in this building, in this poorly furnished room. Yet, there he is, surrounded in smoke, leaned back on a musty couch that is covered in pillows and women, as he thinks. Hineni looks around the room, staring at the cloaked henchmen and bodyguards carefully watching his every move.

 

“You see how this could be of interest for your enterprise?” asks Hineni, turning back towards the ‘boss’. The man in the expensive outfit strokes his short beard, thinking for a moment more. “We’ll sell them to your operation at a token price,” says Hineni, looking around the room at the cloaked men with hoods covering their lowered faces. “Thirty-three percent less. Repairs too.”

 

“Why?” asks the man, saying the first thing he has said since the start of the conversation. Hineni looks at the bodyguards, turning back to the man. “The owl-god seeks your favor,” lies Hineni.

 

Now, honestly, Obscura clearly couldn’t care less about this person sitting in front of Hineni. But as noted before, reputation and words go very far here. This man can’t be bought with money. He has all of the money that he could ever want already. But reputation, offerings of power, those are worth far more, those are still useful, even after you’re rich.

 

And it’s working. The dynamic in the room has shifted already, from just those few words he had spoken. The bodyguards stand differently than they did a second ago. A god specifically requesting the help of a person? This elevates the man in the nice clothes in a new way, in a way he hadn’t been elevated before.

 

“We need some help to keep trouble away,” explains Hineni, getting to his part of the deal.

 

This is a poor neighborhood. But that doesn’t mean that everyone is poor. There are rules here and while he has certainly managed to never be important enough to be involved in any such affairs, he is well aware of what being ‘rich’, at least by this neighborhood’s standards, could mean for his business and home.

 

They’re a target.

 

The literal god of wealth visited his front door, right in the middle of the poorest neighborhood in the entire city. Burglars, thieves and worse will be flooding in, having likely already scoped out the building during the opening ceremony, if not long before. That’s ignoring all of the frogs, who could be anyone, anywhere.

 

Hineni never had anything to be really worried about being stolen, but now he does. Not money or material things, but he has people to keep safe and, as the city-guard has already displayed, coming in late only after the frogs’ attack, he can’t count on the official channels to handle it. They just aren’t available in this part of the world. Not when you need them.

 

The man in the suit nods. “You’ll hear from us, Hineni, chosen of the owl-god.”

 

Hineni nods back, keeping his cool. He had never introduced himself to this man. “Thank you,” he says, turning and walking back out of the smoky room, past a lone cloaked guard standing there, leaning against the wall with crossed arms and a boot back against the wall.

 

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He stops, turning to her. “Sockel. Let’s go home,” says Hineni, shaking his head in dismay as he keeps on walking.

 

The elf lets out a disgruntled noise, lowering her hood. “Huh? How did you know?” she asks, running after him.

 

“I can smell you,” replies Hineni, not skipping a beat, as he heads out of the door, the elf running after him. She throws the robe off, tossing it onto some crates. “You smell like owls.”

 

It’s a perfectly good explanation.

 

“You’re a real charmer, you know?” asks Sockel, sniffing herself with a suspicious expression on her face.

 

Hineni gestures across to the alley for someone to come out. “Rhine.” Rhine, wearing his yellow scarf and wizard’s hat, sheepishly peaks out from behind some crates that he was lowering behind. “Come on. We’re going home,” says Hineni.

 

“If you wanted to take care of some ‘business’, you could have just asked me,” says Sockel. “This place is shaaaady~” she says, looking around at the large glass window across the street that a few adventurously dressed women stand behind, waving their way with beckoning gestures.

 

Hineni grabs Rhine, who from the sight of them, seems to have suddenly been frozen in place, dragging him after them as they leave.

 

“Shouldn’t we talk about why you’re all following me?” asks Hineni. “Who’s running the guild?”

 

“Oh, uh. Eilig’s handling it,” explains Sockel.

 

Hineni stops, turning to her. “Sockel.”

 

“Yeah?” asks the elf.

 

“You do see what a terrible idea that is, right?” he asks, picking up the pace. They have to get back before the fairy kills their first customers.

 

“WHO~!” hoots the owl-god, Obscura, her voice suddenly coming from atop of his hat. A feathery face bends down, hanging upside down in front of his face from over the rim. “The sock-elf followed wise Obscura’s bidding!” she exclaims. “He is lost, yes?” asks Obscura’s voice. “Little Hineni has wandered far from the path, yes?” she asks. The silhouette tilts its head at a sharp angle. “Is he again astray in her big-now-small forest?”

 

Rhine nods. “Yeah!” says the boy. “And uh, can you not hold my hand?”

 

Hineni blinks, letting go of Rhine’s hand. “Sorry,” apologizes the man. He had forgotten to let go after removing Rhine from a situation perhaps inappropriate for him, at least for another few years. What would the boy’s mother think?

 

He stops, staring down at the street for a second. What an odd thought. She’s a frog. Best not to think about what she’s thinking. It might infect his brain with her… frogginess.

 

- Hineni shudders.

 

“We were worried,” says Sockel. “Well. They were.”

 

“I’m a grown man,” says Hineni.

 

Something hoots above him, the owl-god shifting into her half-human form, which is somewhat troublesome, given that she’s still on his head. Hineni does his best to stay upright, grabbing hold of the two long, fluffy legs stretching down his shoulders as she seems to be trying to sit on his back.

 

“Don’t look at me,” says Sockel. “Why are you going down into places like this anyways?”

 

“Yes?” asks Obscura, leaning over sideways. “Why?” she asks. Hineni can feel her looking around at the area. They’re obviously getting a lot of looks. A few people call out to Obscura and she waves back, clearly enjoying the attention giving the puffing out of her chest. “Hineni’s eyes wander!” she hoots accusingly, leaning back down towards him.

 

“Please,” says Hineni. “You know I only have eyes for you.

 

“WHO~!” hoots Obscura, suddenly vanishing, giving the abrupt lightness on his shoulders and the handfuls of feathers that rain down from above.

 

“Ew…” says Rhine. “Gross.” Sockel flicks his head. “OW!”

 

“Stop being rude, twerp,” scolds Sockel. “It’s called ‘love’, maybe you’ll get to experience it one day, if you do something about that attitude of yours.”

 

“Please,” says Rhine, pulling out a box from an alley they’re passing by. “Women can’t get enough of RHINE! THE RIVER-WIZARD!”

 

Sockel stares at him quietly for a moment. A few passersby talk amongst themselves at the sight of them. “…Why are there just small boxes always everywhere?” asks the elf beneath her breath, looking around the street. She shakes her head, turning back towards him. “Keep dreaming,” she says, flicking his head again a second time.

 

Rhine pouts, rubbing the red spot on his forehead. “No! You keep dreaming! The guy you liked was a frog!” argues Rhine.

 

Sockel turns to him. “Hey!” she barks in an unusual moment of sharpness. She points at him. “That’s low.”

 

Rhine stares for a second and then frowns, lowering his head. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Sockel.”

 

She nods and flicks him a third time. Rhine takes it like a man. Hineni looks at the two of them, glad that they managed to sort it out themselves. He wants to sigh and to shake his head, but he can’t help but laugh. It’s a little troublesome, sure. But being worried about by people like this, to a degree like this, is unprecedented. They had, noticing that he was doing something out of character, pursued him in secret.

 

In some more ’normal’ contexts, this would be considered frightening and scary behavior. But, for him, he just feels blessed to have people who would worry about him so much at all, honestly.

 

Hineni walks home, returning to streets that are far less dubious, feeling the happiest he’s been in a while as he explains the situation to the others.

 

Well, not entirely, but the part with the deal with the thieves’ guild at least. The other stuff, well, that’s a secret for later, assuming that the guild hasn’t been turned into a block of ice already.

 

 

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