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The Cursed Lands Part 21: The Old Ways

  The message on the card read, "Da optima meo agente."

  Give my agent the best.

  As much as I hated to admit it, I was curious. What was the Sanctifiers’ best? I needed to learn more about them and what they were capable of. How else could I outplay them? How else could I stay the hunter?

  In one smooth movement, Shay slipped between us, crossing the room to lock the front door.

  He’s fast!

  I reached for my cane, twisting my short sword free as he slid purple curtains across the store’s windows.

  Shay turned back to us and flashed a wolfish grin.

  “Now that we have some privacy… What are you doing?!”

  “This isn’t an ambush?” I asked.

  He laughed.

  “No. If I wanted to kill you… you’d already be dead. Now put the toy away.”

  I clenched my short sword tighter.

  Someone about this man made the hairs on my neck stand up. He wasn’t human, but he wasn’t an elf.

  I sheathed my weapon. Reed wanted to protect the Guild’s investment. She wouldn’t send me to someone that would kill me. At least not yet.

  “Good.”

  He walked past us, normally this time, his loose, lavender pants swishing on the hardwood floor.

  Shay walked to the store’s back wall, exhaled and deflated. He fell onto the floor like a sheet of fabric.

  I turned to Dugan, who stared back at me with the same wide-eyed disbelief as he slithered under the wall.

  A few moments later, there was a loud clunk, like a lever had been pulled. Part of the back wall opened to reveal Shay holding a lamp in one hand and bundles of clothes in the other.

  He pushed aside the blue fabric on the table in the middle of the room, laying out each item of clothing before falling back onto a nearby stool.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  "This is my best. I’ve taken your measurements and colour preferences into account. Any more alterations should be minimal."

  I stepped closer to the table and was drawn to a red jacket embroidered with gold thread. Two gold phoenixes stared at each other on the jacket’s front.

  "I can't afford this," I whispered.

  The craftsmanship was on a different level. I reached out to touch the material and felt a familiar, hungry sensation.

  Enchantment.

  "Then it's a good thing you're not paying for it. Now watch."

  Shay whispered into his hand. His index finger unravelled from the tip like loose knitting, revealing a large sewing needle that jutted from the base of his knuckle. He stabbed and sliced into the jacket, leaving no holes or tears.

  "The jacket is both cut and stab-resistant. Although, I will warn you. Its protection will be limited against direct attacks from large weapons."

  "It’s enchanted," I said.

  Shay laughed, shaking his head.

  “Using a tight-knit weave and a blend of metallic fibres is not Enchantment.”

  “Then what is?”

  “Watch.”

  Shay whispered into his hand. His index finger rewrapped itself, and he placed it on the jacket.

  Wait. Where did the jacket go?

  I scanned the room, looking everywhere except for the table in front of me.

  "This is for stealth. It makes people look away from the jacket. The effect is more efficient than invisibility, but it has its limitations. You must expend will to maintain the effect. The amount of will expended increases with the number of people looking at you and how hard they try to look. Do you understand?”

  I nodded.

  “Good.”

  He lifted his finger off the jacket. My eyes snapped back to the table.

  "There are change rooms at the side over there. Why don't you try it on so I can make alterations."

  I turned to Dugan, who had picked out a deep green doublet embroidered with silver leaves. Shay was amazing. From a moment of observation, he knew exactly what we wanted.

  “What are you?”

  "How rude. Are you like this with everyone who gives you gifts?"

  I did my best imitation of Reed’s stare, the kind that assumed you were already guilty.

  Shay smiled, throwing up his hands in mock defeat.

  “Fine, I’ll tell you. It’s not difficult to deduce. If objects can be enchanted, why not people?”

  I blinked.

  Enchanted people? I’d never thought of that.

  Shay tilted his head up, savouring my shocked expression—smelling weakness.

  “You’re enchanted too, Landbound mage. Although, in a way that’s less interesting than me.”

  I’m… enchanted?

  “The beauty of the Sanctifier contract is it gave us the ability to rename ourselves. That was always the one limitation of spoken High Elvish. But I wonder… Do you think your ancestors would approve of you, half-elf? You let part of your soul die to connect to dead spirits. Was it worth it?”

  My body trembled. Dugan and Thor stepped away from us—wide-eyed, unsure what would happen next.

  “How old are you?” I asked in a whisper, terrified of the answer.

  “Old, child. Very old.”

  “Are you behind the curse?”

  “Summus, no. I prefer handling cloth than mucking around in the dirt.”

  I searched his dark eyes.

  He wasn’t behind the curse, but he was a liar. He understood that the world was a lie and had gained the power to shape it as he willed.

  “Teach me. Teach me the old ways. Teach me the First Magic.”

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