Twelve years before, in the city
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“She was nervous; she wasn’t sure what to do. The baby wasn’t crying, but she did not want to be a mother…”
As she looked at the small bundle in her arms, all she felt was regret that the child was born from a random fling.
With a no-name adventure just passing through the city, if she had been smart, she could’ve prevented this with a potion to not get pregnant beforehand, but now?
The baby gently squirms in her arms, trying to get comfortable. Sorry, little one, I’m no mother…
She snuck out the back. Nobody, besides a select few, knew she was ever pregnant, and she planned to keep it that way.
She gathered shadows around herself to hide in the darkness. The city was well-lit with random passersby, but she flowed around them easily, as most people assumed it was foggy from the misty night.
. She made it to the church easily enough; they were always open. She pulled herself inside, remaining discreet.
Random people in prayer and a few gray robes working the night. It was mostly quiet as she flowed into a side room looking for the bishop.
He should be at his desk, she hoped. Upon reaching the door, she gently knocked, nervousness taking her.
"Lilly?" I told you, you didn't need to knock.
“I will have the document ready soon if you wish to wait.” She did not want to respond, but the baby shifted in her arms, and the guilt pang in her chest once more… I can still go back…
"Lilly?" She had made her choice, even if it killed her. She was no mother... and opened the door.
She saw the surprise on his face as the shadows faded from her and he noticed her holding the child, but did not move.
“Oliver…”
“Tanya, I was hoping you would change your mind…”
“I thought about it for over nine months and didn’t want to keep this child a secret. “
“So you abandon them to the church instead? He wasn't happy that beastkin were already abandoning their children. He hated humans doing it, too.” She wanted something to calm her nerves, but had nothing.
“Judge me all you want.”
"The gods and church will better love the child. "
“than a mother who can’t raise them…” she said with a coldness
"Ok...," he said while sighing
“They will be here if you ever change your mind. “
“Do they have a name?” she was sad but nodded.
"Arlin."
But she steeled her heart. She knew she was cruel and not a loving mother. “Raise him well…” she faded to shadows, a mist that flowed away into the night.
She returned home, tired, and went inside.
She was surprised to see her old friend behind the counter polishing the top, with not a speck of dust in sight…. He stopped when he saw her and nodded.
"A bit late to be just coming home," he said, knowing she had stayed there; it wasn't a surprise that she was the guild master.
“And why are you up working this hour?” he was a friend he was but also a co-worker of many years. He was never ambitious, always happy to earn enough for food and drink and nothing more.
“You want to talk about it?” he asked casually. She flinched at that and drew shadows around her to hide a bit.
Confused, he noticed her tears and felt compassion.
“I thought we were friends?”
We have been working together for years. Realizing her lie was discovered, and he knew her secret shame, she broke down.
"How long have you known about this? "He let out a bark of laughter at that.
“Sorry, I knew since you did.”
"Maybe a week later."
“You are not subtle with how you act…” The tear gently fell once more. She retreated even more into shadows, almost just mist…
“I can’t raise him…”
“I know…”
“Or you would’ve asked me for help, or at least I like to believe you would.” She shrugged, unsure what she would do differently. He sighed. “Get some sleep, Tanya, and go see the alchemist tomorrow.”
They have potions and herbs that can help with anxiety and depression. She offered no response. They made a choice, and what will be will be…
She did not sleep, but did wash after the sun rose. She left for the day, and she saw Terry as she left him. He bowed slightly. The morning changed little from the night;
There were few people, at least at this hour. The path to the alchemist was straightforward enough.
Knowing the roads well, she passed through the city easily.
She disapproved of Tommy's use of ex-thugs, despite their reformed status.
He just liked Muscle to watch his back, something about lacking magic, so it reassured him. He had two shops: one he worked at personally and kept most of the thugs,
and his main shop, where he sold most of the stock and was much more low-key so as not to scare customers.
Since she was to be discreet and needed his help, she went to his workshop outside. There were two random thugs; she was unintentionally a shadow and only noticed when they flinched.
And we’re ready for a fight. She willed herself normal, and they relaxed, seeing a woman and not a random monster.
You have a meeting? Someone asked, though both men leered at her, liking what they saw. She wore loose black silk for ease of movement, and they tried to see more, but she carefully used shadows to hide anything she didn't want them to see.
"Tell your boss it's a wealthy, discreet client," they whispered, worried about handling the situation. The only instruction was to deny entry to anyone without an appointment, but they knew money influenced decisions.
"Wait here," one of them said as they went inside. It was eating at her, standing exposed, she wanted to hide in the shadows,to be free, but the street where empty save for the one thug, and she dealt with worse, so she calmed herself while she waited…
A few minutes later, the thug came back. "The boss will see you," he said, leading her deeper into the room, which was simple but not large.
As they led her to the back, she assumed that the many side doors were workshops and storage areas. A knock and then the opening of the door. A man sat at the desk wearing glasses and writing in a book.
He was simple looking but well dressed in a nice gray suit, slick black hair, and piercing green eyes. He stopped writing as she entered and waved away the thug near the door.
As he gently closed it behind her. She moved slowly to take a seat without being prompted.
"I'm not familiar with you. May I have a name?" He casually asked as he rose to reach a shelf for a drink.
“Tayna guild master,” he hesitated, grabbing a bottle after hearing that.
“Do you wish for a drink?”
“It is a rare brand I made myself.”
“Very smooth, not too much alcohol.” Her nerves were killing her, as was the lack of sleep, so she nodded as he poured her a glass. It was indeed very smooth and calmed her a bit.
“It’s good.”
"I can craft a bottle for you as a gift for this meeting," he said with a smile, aware that money could be earned.
“No, I wish for something else. It’s why I’m here.” he frowned slightly at that, but he was a businessman and was ready for whatever she asked.
"May I ask? I hope you don't want me to guess?" She understood his friendliness was conditional on her worth, but she remained unconcerned.
"I need something to take anytime for stress and anxiety," he nodded.
“Our line of work can wear a person down,”
“It’s why I like the drink myself. He thoughtfully stirred his drink, watching her observe him in return. His interest was purely financial as he lost himself in thought, noticing the darkness edge around her. " Is hiding an interesting skill?” Her eyes narrowed at that, surprising him.
“What are you implying?” he swallowed, not sure how he overstepped.
“I meant no disrespect. “
“merely observing a skill at play,”
"I assure you," he tried to calm her, but she still seemed simmering, so he tried once more to soothe her. “I have an herb you can smoke; it’s good for mana recovery and stress reduction.”
Calming her mind, she calmed down a bit, listening.
“And?”
“It has side effects, nothing harmful.”
“Well, unless you are into vanity,” he clarified
Reports of users saying it works great, but red eyes and white hair are the common effects reported if long-term use. “
“It is permanent,” he finished saying, watching her. She never cared about her looks. Well, that was a bit of a lie. She did like attracting a man for fun, but beyond that, it was nothing to her.
"A fair trade: What is the price? "He smiled at that.
"Nothing," he said flatly
Her eyes narrowed. “Nothing,” she said.
“You think me a fool?”
"There's always a price to pay. " He took a slow drink and then responded.
“Wise words, and I never do business. I don’t gain,”
“But I’d rather be in your good graces,”
“Mana crystals are my prices.”
“The higher the better, when I do charge, but not for this.” he stated clearly
"For this," she repeated.
“You are a guild master.”
“People will use you for trades of said crystal.”
“I only asked you to keep me in mind for the rare ones vs using them for magical things or armor.”
“It is what Adventure prefers to do.”
“So it is hard to convince people why a potion. “
It is worth more than a lifetime's worth of armor. He said, making his point. She slowly nodded in response.
“When can you deliver?” he grinned at that, “my dear.”
“What kind of businessman would I be?”
"If I cannot get it now,..."
"Please excuse me for a second." As he left, opening the door, the thug nodded and spoke to him before he closed the door.
She did not trust him, but knew nothing he could do could hurt her. He had also been doing business here for a few years,
So he had gained trust; even if he tried something, she could return the favor tenfold.
Feeling better, she dozed a bit; she had slept little.
The sound of the door opening and a thug’s voice saying to his boss he already told somebody something she did not catch as he nodded and closed the door.
“Sorry for the delay.”
“I had to get a pipe to match the gift,” he returned to the desk with a small pouch and a wooden box. He presented the items, so she took them and nodded.
She opened the box to see what the fuss was about. The pipe was finely crafted and inlaid with gold and wood. She was about to say it was too much, but he raised a hand to forestall her.
“I know a gnome tinker who is annoying. “
"He likes to pay with trinkets rather than coins or crystals."
“But still love to buy my potions.”
“I allow it as some of his better stuff is worth more than many of my potions tenfold over,”
“So we worked out allowance of some leeway in trinkets in trade,” he said with mild amusement
“And you assume we will have a similar outcome? “ she asked with care
“Very astute, yes. I plan to be here for years. “
“There is plenty of time for you to bring me returns for petty gifts.” “She reached over and opened the pouch and sniffed, even just the herb made her feel heady. I would prefer that you not smoke here, “ he said with a bit of a smirk
She took the gift and nodded. Ending this day was her priority; antagonizing her benefactor was not. She just wanted to sleep…
Disappearing into mist, her parting words were, "I'll stay in touch."
“You good boss?” said the thug from the door, watching the shadow go.
It's fine. She’s a business friend. Just keep me informed, like always. He returned to his books, writing notes as the thug nodded and closed the door.
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Back in her room, she filled and lit the pipe; the effect was instant. She immediately put out the pipe. She barely made it to the bed after that and slept.
When she awoke, she was surprised to see that only a few hours had passed since noon. Guess not that strong. She slipped the pipe into the inner pocket and made her way to the main hall. Terry was there helping a random adventurer. “Sleep well, mistress?” he asked without looking as the adventurer walked away.
"A few hours is insufficient," she said with indifference. At that, he raised an eyebrow.
“You know, a day and a few hours have passed since we last talked?”
She chuckled at that.
"It had more of a kick than I expected."
“It?” Terry pondered. She showed the pipe. He smelled the tip and nodded. “I don’t know the mix, but I know fairy root is mixed in and helps with sleep and calming a mind. I was always told it had to be a drink, though?” she shrugged.
The alchemist gave it as a gift to help; he mentioned potential long-term side effects, but I'm unconcerned. He nodded in agreement.
“It’s the fairy herb that has harmless side effects.”
“If consumed too often.”
“I guess the smoking has the same effect.”
“Heard it is less common in beastkin, with humans tending to be affected by magic more.”
She was already getting anxious again, so she drew the pipe and lit it as she slowly blew out, and everything just washed away." It is fine. I'll handle it as it comes," he nodded. It was the start of her new life of not being a mother.
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twelve years later
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How many years had he lived in this prison surrounded by gray robes and priest people, always coming and going, always acting so loving,
But he knew better. It was fake. They weren’t his family, no matter how many times they welcomed him.
He felt a bit of pride the day he was told he had darkness level three magic. The bishop said he could use it for many things,
Like seeing people’s magic, why would he choose that? He had no clue. He enjoyed making shadows.
Though it allowed him to hide and escape when he had nowhere else to go, at least he was safe and alone there, even when he didn’t want to be.
The two wolf beastkin's arrival that day was odd.
Some said that their parents were killed in a dungeon; others said that their parents had debts and ran away, leaving their children behind.
The biggest tragedy was even though they were around ten years old, they said they did not know about their past.
They said someone moved them from place to place before they ended up in the city church.
I didn’t believe it. He spent a week secretly following them; though distrustful and obedient, he believed he could offer them a better life, even family.
As he kept his distance so as not to scare them, “Hey, I’ve seen you two around. My name is Arlin. “
They both jerked at his voice. It seemed he was more hidden than he knew. From the darkness came magic. I avoid working by using it.
They both stared wide-eyed, amazed he had power. Can you do magic? The girl spoke.
“Yeah, you're beastkin, you should get magic too, maybe even stronger than me!” He said with enthusiasm that when they both looked down, their ears flat.
“No…. That’s why they abandon us. We have no magic.” The boy said.
"What?!" No one would be that cruel.
The girl said meekly, "Our family did. They said magic was everything, and if the gods gave us none, we weren't welcome in the tribe."
The situation shocked him. He spent his whole life wanting a family, and they got abandoned by their….
“Maybe we can be a family?” he tried saying, but they both looked at him as if what he said was wrong, so he sighed.
"Okay, what about a leader?”
“I won’t abandon you as a boss.”
“I will be there to guide you instead.” They still looked doubtful, but the boy shrugged.
“Ok, boss. My name is Rock, and this is my sister Zaila.”
" I will speak to myself." Annoyed, she nodded afterward, confirming that was her name.
“Rock? That’s an interesting name.”
“Our parents were strong in earth magic, so they wanted me to be the rock. “
"Before things went, at least that's what they said." His ears drooped as he trailed off; Zaila patted his back.
“I understand,” he said. “Zaila is also a pretty name.” She gave a small smile but wasn’t cheerful.
Arlin knew this was a chance at a new start, so he showed them things weren’t so bad.
They got used to helping the gray robes with random chores and learning basic reading and math;
Unlike his magic-focused tribe, this was a positive change.
Zaila's illness began after a few happy months.
They tried praying and random potions, but nothing was working. It made little sense, so Arlin went to see the bishop.
The bishop greeted him with a good-natured, "Arlin, it's good to see you well," as he entered the room.
'It’s been a while since I have seen you happy."
"Or helping others. It’s a pleasant change. What can I do for you?”
He steadied his resolve. “I know you’ve seen that Zaila is getting sicker and worse each day.”
“We need a cure for her.” The bishop was smiling, but now frowned.
“We can’t do that, I’m afraid.”
“Her sickness is not fatal.”
“Given time, she should grow in magic, and it will heal itself.”
"It won't. That's why they abandoned them."
“Who told you such things?” the bishop wondered
“I heard it from their own words,”
“Ah… that is partly true.”
"There is no partly. They abandoned them, and you know it. "Arlin was getting heated.
“Arlin,” the bishop sighed, “it’s… true the tribe they came from was…. “
“Well, is a bit of zealotry over magic.”
“It is sad, but that is the struggle of life,” Bishop said calmly.
The bishop's indifference shocked him. He saw Arlin look and explained.
“We have been having cases like this for years…”
"In addition, your greater help would ease our persistent struggles with this weakness."
He did not care. He was the leader of the kids and promised he would take care of them.
"You must be able to do something." Arlin pleaded.
"For her?" "No," the bishop replied.
“She will grow out of it.”
“Almost all beastkin heal from it within a few years at most. “
“They barely even have any weakness effects; it is the humans that suffer.” Arlin wasn’t listening since the bishop wasn’t. He would find a way…
Bishop saw his face and knew he needed to see how it affected humans. Please follow me.
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He led them to one of the side corridors he had never gone down, since it was where most of the gray robes and priests went.
There were a surprising number of doors in this hall, and random doors were open. The bishop spoke quietly, “The closed doors were where they are sleeping.”
“We check on them randomly to make sure they’re ok.”
“The open ones are those awake, and we try to assist those we can.”
As they entered the door, he noticed it was a small basic room, with just a bed and a small table to the side with a chair.
Unlike their main room, which was a bunker hall with many beds where they slept, he wondered why these rooms were single. What made them better?
The bishop, sensing his discomfort, spoke, “These rooms were for those who have no home and nobody to help.”
“We help them till we get a potion.”
"Or they will recover. Some choose to repay us by wearing gray robes."
“Others donate when they can.”
“We don’t judge.”
“As the city and guild help fund these projects, since it keeps people off the streets.”
The room they were in was currently empty but looked lived in. “Where are they?” he couldn’t help but ask.
“We try to give them exercise when we can to help them recover since they're always weak.”
“We have to be careful and do it in small amounts.”
While he was being supervised, he remembered seeing random people being guided around. He just thought they were old or sick, and well, he was partly right.
“You said you can help them, so you can spare a potion then…” the bishop sighed.
“They’re rare and take time to make.”
“Every year we have been getting less, not more. “
“and the people with weakness are new people every year…”
“I’ll work harder, I will earn it…”
“Arlin, this is your home.”
“You owe us nothing. We wish you would help more, but out of desire, not need. “
"This isn't my home," he said, feeling no remorse. He'd always despised the place, and now they were abandoning his family. It was worse…
“I wish you did not feel that way, but we will care for you as long as you’re here.”
“Excuse me. “A voice broke the moment
They both looked at the unfamiliar voice. It was a gray robe walking a young man. He looked like he had run for days and was barely standing. They move away from the door, regretting that they blocked the path.
" A month ago, a Smith passed through the city," the bishop spoke, and the gray-robed man guided him to the bed. "He has a home, but it is overseas. "
“he was worried he might get sick and came to the city looking for are alchemist. “
"How did he know? " blurted out mid-talk. His appearance amazed him; surprised he could make it, considering how far he had traveled.
" We try to keep a church in all towns built," the bishop informed him,
“and share information and resources where we can. "
"They tested him and found he had no magic."
"... and knew he would one day get sick..."
“Well, could get sick, so he came here looking for a cure. And sadly it happened.“
“It happens to everyone without magic?”
“Hmmm, technically, yes, but it happens more where dungeons exist.” The man was oblivious to everything that had just taken place,
As someone eased him into bed, he instantly fell asleep. The gray robe used a cloth they had to clean the sweat from his face.
They did not want to be rude, just watching, so they left him be, they bowed, leaving the room and closing the door to give him peace.
"Now you understand why we cannot help you. People like that are waiting for a cure," the bishop said carefully. However, he didn't see it that way; for him, it was the proof he needed to save his sister before she suffered a similar fate.
***
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He rubbed his eyes. Another of these stupid cures is done…. He was trying to build a backlog with the few he could craft, so he could put it off longer.
But they were a pain to make. It was like the gods were fighting his method. The herbs seemed to get rarer, regardless of what he would pay for them…
One of his older alchemists came to him, the perfectionist who kept wanting to study the herb, but he refused to let him…
"What do you want, Herbert?" He didn't even look; he already knew the old fool was near, simply by his habit of appearing when a cure seemed complete.
“I still think you’re doing it wrong, sir.”
“Perhaps, but it’s my method, and it works.”
“You could save more lives if you made it better. “
“Maybe and less money…”
Is that all that matters to you? He laughed at that.
‘Do you need to ask that? “
“I do,”
“I cannot work for a man whose only goal is greed. The gods want us to save lives, not bleed them off coin…”
“Touching…”
“But it’s my shop, my rules. “
“This isn’t your school of hope.”
“You came to me.”
“This is my empire I built with my time and money…” Hebert sighed
“I will leave then…” that surprised him.
“Is this about a raise?”
“You just had to ask.”
"Or, I suppose I could spare one herb, if you insist," he said, looking at Herbert for a response.
He was well-dressed and squinting not from annoyance but from his habit of always staring at close things, which were affecting him too. It’s why he started wearing glasses randomly. He wondered if he could make a potion for that when Herbert spoke.
"No, sir..."
“Your greed knows no bounds. “
"As much as it pains me,"
“I trust I can do better. “
“Even without that herb,” he laughed at that before he could stop himself.
“Sorry, that was rude.”
“I wish you well.”
“Let the guild know you are leaving.”
“I prearrange for all my workers with them for payments.”
“That might end with us having issues as a fail-safe. “
“So there can be no hard feelings.”
Should you change your mind, I have always admired your work.
Herbert wasn’t sure if he was serious or if he’d been so easily dismissed.
The more he thought about it, it was that easy… it was a solemn walk out the front door.
Nobody tried to stop him as he passed the thugs at the door; he barely even noticed the young child standing before them, pleading to get in…
He was tired as he sat back at his desk, setting the newest potion there, and poured himself a drink.
He wanted to sleep soon. Even though it was still early, as much as he loved what alchemy gave him, it was a mental drain.
"Boss?" Slowly, a thug opened the door.
“What…”
"It's not important," he started to leave
“Just tell me,” mildly annoyed
“I’d rather know than not.” The thug stopped closing the door and looked conflicted.
“Their some kid wanting to see you who says he wants to make a deal.” The absurdity of it surprised him. How did a child know how to find him?
I'll allow it. Send him. He finished his drink and set it aside.
Waiting for the unknown visitor, when the door opened again, there was a young boy covered in edges of shadows, as if it was an outline around him.
He wore a simple robe that looked like the church provided. The kid hesitated for a moment, then sat, not looking at him.
"Well, you came here." What do you need? He was curious about what had brought the child there, but not overly so.
“My sister is sick…”
“And?”
“I need a cure…”
“This isn’t a church child. We don’t give freely, and they can heal most things easily. “
“It's the weakness. “
“Ah, my statement stands… that is not something giving easily what it is worth to you for me to even care…”
“I can work. “
“I got plenty of thugs, and you're too young to be one. Also, I don’t think they’re worth that potion; they're not easily made. "
"I will owe you."
“Charming, but that’s not much of a sell pitch for me to care. “
He was mildly interested to hear, "I'm at darkness level three; I can make money. I just need time."
That was a rare gift for a human; he could probably find a use for it later when older,
And he did just make one. It pains him to think of the deal he made with the church to always make them one, though he has to make more…
As he thought more about it, he figured he would have some fun. “You cannot steal from anyone.”
“around my shop. Beyond that?”
"I don't care how you get the money," the boy looked up hopefully, grinning. Then he frowned, sensing there was more to it.
“You can never pay me back as a thief.”
“But it will be interesting to see you try.”
“I need things from the dungeon, and you are too young for that.”
He left out the part where he could use this against the church, letting their kids run rampant and make deals,
That they can’t pay… maybe it would allow him to end the stupid once-a-month potion deal. It was a waste of time for him to help the weak.
Reaching over, he handed the boy the potion. "Remember that..." The boy nodded and rushed away without thanking him.
The thug in the hall noticed the boy go but did not give chase, since the boss wasn’t concerned.
“You good boss? “
“Fine, just setting up my future is all.” The thug nodded and let him be. He poured himself one more drink before turning in for the day; he hated those cures, wasted time and effort.
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