Chapter 7: What goes bump in the night

  The tiled archway of the bathhouse loomed ahead, promising the blessed relief of a proper cleansing, the kind that washed away not just the grime but the lingering worries and unease that had settled in my bones, if only for a short while. I glanced back, a casual sweep of my gaze across the bustling street behind me. Just the usual commuters hurrying to work, children chasing stray dogs, the usual hubbub of city life. Nothing out of the ordinary. Still…

  Ever since that encounter with the two mages a week ago, a prickling sensation had settled at the back of my neck. Like unseen eyes were tracking my every move. I’d caught glimpses of figures in the shadows, heard whispers that seemed to twist and distort just on the edge of my hearing. Probably just my nerves, I told myself. The ever-present fear of discovery was playing havoc on my sanity.

  It wouldn’t take much for them to piece together who I was if they ever had even an inkling of a suspicion, not with my… eye catching appearance courtesy of my divine heritage. The only saving grace was that so much time had passed since the mstavoris had issued that circular that the empire’s bureaucracy would have long since brushed the matter under the rug being more concerned with the affairs of today.

  Even so, I could not afford to be careless. More than just my life was at stake. If the empire moved to pursue me, then Leera and her family would be dragged into the fray, branded as my accomplices. Their non-human status would only worsen their plight, stripping them of the meager legal protection they might have otherwise been entitled to. The mere thought coiled around my chest like a vise, stealing my breath. I would not—could not—allow that to happen, no matter the cost.

  Impulsively, I had rushed to inform Grog of my worries, which, in hindsight, had been a mistake. Leera, who had been present when the shady broker revealed my squad's eventual fate, would have handled relaying the news with far more tact. Grog's reaction had been anything but calm; the usually jovial giant had been a volatile mix of fury and fear.

  "What do you mean?" he had asked, his voice dangerously low. "This is how you repay us, after all we did for you?" His accusations had stung deeply. He likely assumed I had deliberately withheld the information from them, but that couldn't have been further from the truth. I didn’t remember anything like this, and even when the broker had informed me, the reality of my situation hadn‘t truly dawned on me for some time. I had been in denial, almost treating that day as though it were a bad dream. Only my encounter with the mages had made me realize how careless I was being.

  Shaken by Grog's accusations, I had stood rooted to the spot as I watched him bolt home to warn his family of the danger I'd brought upon them. I wasn't privy to the exact details of the conversation, but Eliza had later recounted the fierce argument that had erupted when Grog discovered that Leera had already known about my situation and had chosen, unilaterally, to withhold the information to avoid prematurely alarming them while secretly preparing contingencies.

  Only Eliza's intervention had diffused the situation somewhat. Yet, from what I could gather, tensions still ran high.

  Consumed by guilt, I couldn't help but shoulder the blame for the discord I'd brought upon a family that had offered me nothing but kindness. Determined to make amends, I made a silent vow: I would remain in Guarai, despite every instinct warning me otherwise, until I could be certain no harm would come to them. It was the least I could do to repay their generosity—even if it could never truly be enough.

  I had met Leera briefly yesterday—the first time since her quarrel with her husband. My ears had burned red as I stammered out another apology, feeling extremely rotten as I realized I was apologizing more for the trouble I had caused them than for my supposed crimes. Leera had brushed it all aside, much as Eliza had done. “Don’t worry,” she had said. “I’ll handle it.”

  "Wouldn't it be safer to just leave, and put as much distance between you and the city as possible?" I’d pressed, anxiety gnawing at me. "Just in case I've brought trouble down on you all."

  Leera shook her head, a small, reassuring smile playing on her lips. "We have a contract with the Count," she had explained. "A year's service with about three months still to go, so leaving isn't an option—not yet, anyways." She paused briefly, her tone firm but not unkind. "Breaking it would be our absolute last resort."

  Then, a spark of humor lit her eyes as she added, "Besides, who would negotiate with the broker for you if I up and left?"

  A wry smile briefly touched my lips as I recalled Leera's attempt at levity. I continued following the well-worn path to the bathhouse, my feet moving out of habit through the familiar streets.

  A wave of humid air greeted me as I stepped through the bathhouse’s archway, a familiar warmth settling on my skin. The usual vibrant din was conspicuously absent. Fewer patrons milled about, and the normally bustling reception area felt almost deserted.

  Relief washed over me; perhaps I'd arrived before the thick of the morning rush. Yet, something felt off. The bathhouse was eerily quiet. I knew I wasn't that early; usually, it was a raucous scene of bathers and vapor clouds by now.

  I had heard that the entire complex, encompassing more than just the bathhouse, was operated by a relatively new merchant concern in Guarai called 'Zaisine,' which had rapidly expanded its presence throughout the region.

  The bathhouse was divided into two distinct wings—the women’s side being easily three times the size of the men’s. The sounds drifting from the women’s section, usually a lively mix of chatter and splashing, were subdued, heightening the sense of emptiness. I glanced around at the austere yet functional reception area that served as the gateway to both wings. The absence of the female attendant at the entrance to the women’s section was conspicuous.

  I approached the remaining attendant, a wiry man with a perpetually harried expression. “Good morning, Good Sir,” he mumbled, barely making eye contact. I didn’t wait for the rest of his usual greeting. Instead, I quickly paid my fare, the brass coins clinking as they fell into his outstretched hand. As I turned to go, I noticed the attendant eyeing me with an intensity that made me uncomfortable.

  “Anything else, Good Sir?” he asked, his voice suddenly sounding uncharacteristically chipper.

  Pausing, I remembered the young laundry boy, Sai, who usually worked the morning shifts. “Is Sai around?” I asked. “I’d also like my clothes washed.”

  The attendant gestured vaguely towards a door at the back. “He’s probably around somewhere. Just follow the sound of the washing.”

  Thanking him, I placed my sandals onto the rack, and headed towards the back, the sound of splashing water guiding me to a small, steamy room where several lads were hunched over large tubs, scrubbing vigorously at piles of clothes.

  “Sai?” I called out.

  A barely fourteen summer boy looked up, a wide, gap-toothed grin spreading across his face. "Hey, mister! Good to see ya!"

  I pointed at my clothes. “These need a good wash,” I said. “Please be generous with the soap, if you don’t mind.” Pressing a few extra copper coins into his hand, I added “For your trouble.”

  Sai’s grin widened. “Hey thanks, mister! Real kind of ya.”

  I glanced around at the relatively empty room, a hint of curiosity in my eyes. “It’s quiet today, isn’t it?”

  “Ya,” he replied with a shrug. “Boss man's doin' some work on the place. Shuttered some parts, and not many folks allowed in today.”

  With a quick "ah" of understanding, I shed my clothes, passing them to him, and wrapped the towel Sai had provided around my waist. Nudity taboos were a luxury the poor could not afford, especially those of the same sex.

  Towel-clad, I padded out of the laundry room and made my way to the showers.

  The water was a touch chillier than I would have liked, but it was tolerable, nothing my heightened body heat couldn't handle. Icy cold water was to be expected this early in the morning in the mid-autumn season. I settled under the shower, leisurely rinsing myself.

  As the streams of water began running over me, my mind began to wander. Life in Guarai had mostly returned to normal, with those curious increased patrols in and around the city already dwindling. The Count, ever the pragmatist, wouldn't part with his coin unless absolutely necessary, especially now since he was currently on thin ice with his superiors. He was a consummate merchant through and through.

  I still had no clue what the fuss had all been about. I should have been heaving a sigh of relief, this meant things were slowly returning to their usual routine.

  And yet I was feeling even more on edge than before. The last few days had been anything but pleasant. I had to resort to my father’s meditation asanas to calm myself down.

  Finishing with the shower, I wrapped the towel securely around my waist and headed towards the steaming warmth of the large communal bath in the men’s wing.

  As I opened the door to the baths, I was greeted by light wispy steam escaping the open doorway.

  Easing into the bath, a wave of relaxation washed over me. The warm bath water was slowly lulling me into a peaceful slumber, my thoughts drifting away from my immediate concerns. The comforting heat embraced me, while the tranquil sound of water filling the pool added to the serene atmosphere.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  I did not know how long I had been in that state, almost lightly dozing to the gentle sounds around me. Sooner than I would have liked, I heard the door to the bath area open, signaling the arrival of another patron.

  He was a tall one, standing nearly a head taller than me. Very few humans ever managed to grow that tall naturally. Such people were highly sought after by the armies and militias of the various human kingdoms and empires across the continent.

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  I clutched my head in aggravation, as a subtle ache built up behind my eyes. I could have sworn I heard a distorted and hushed whisper, carried on the wind. Just when I thought I’d get a moment of peace, they’d start up again

  While I was distracted, the stranger had slid into the water with nary a ripple and spread himself into a relaxed pose, leaning against the smooth stones.

  “You okay there, buddy?” Instead of responding, I subtly scanned my surroundings, hoping to pinpoint the whispers' origin. Nothing. Not that I really expected anything different. I turned back to the man.

  “I’m fine, just feeling a bit under the weather,” I said neutrally, hiding my aggravation.

  “Yeah, changing seasons can be tricky. But winters are much worse in my opinion though” he sighed somewhat exaggeratedly.

  The more the stranger spoke, the stronger my gut instinct became; it was telling me he wasn’t quite human. Something about his speech patterns just seemed a bit off, with an overemphasis on the letters ‘s’ and ‘z’. Granted, it could have just been a foreign accent or verbal tic, and was so minute an aberration that most would never pick up on it, but my sixth sense said otherwise.

  With the way non-humans were treated in the empire I suppose disguising oneself was only prudent on the stranger’s part. Although my curiosity was piqued, I decided being a busybody would just sour the pleasant atmosphere.

  “Not a fan of the cold?” I enquired, continuing to engage in small talk as though I had noticed nothing out of the ordinary. I tried to stay engaged in the conversation with the newcomer, but my focus kept being pulled towards a feeling of wrongness I could sense emanating from his general direction, more specifically his right hand. My curiosity was piqued by the ring I’d seen momentarily on his hand as he was brushing his long platinum blonde locks out of his eyes.

  It had a very distinctive symbol, a snake swallowing its own tail emblazoned proudly on its sapphire gemstone. I realized I had seen that very same symbol somewhere but where exactly was the question I was drawing a blank on.

  Oblivious to my distracted state the visitor continued animatedly speaking with me. “My hometown had warmish weather throughout the year, so I never saw a proper winter growing up. I will not lie it did take a bit getting used to.”

  “It must have been tough adjusting.” I said, in sympathetic tone. “Why did you decide to leave your hometown?”

  “Let’s just say I had a bit of falling out with the leadership there and was told to leave in no uncertain terms.” He sighed, shrugging his shoulders as if to say, what can you do.

  Nodding my head absentmindedly, I barely concentrated on the conversation with the stranger. My mind was still trying to puzzle out where I had seen the symbol last. Then, like a bolt from the blue, it struck me. It had been carved into the stone marker next to which I had woken all those weeks ago.

  Who was this man? Was he related to my amnesia, or was this just a giant coincidence? Desperate for answers, I decided to probe him a little.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I spoke with as much sincerity I could muster.

  “Aww, don't be. Leaving my hometown was the best thing that could have happened to me. It broadened my horizons, allowed me to build connections, travel to new places and try new things.” His good cheer was unmistakable. I would almost go as far as to say I could detect a hint of glee in his voice.

  “Well, it looks like you’ve certainly done well for yourself,” I said, briefly indicating in the general direction of the ring, hoping my actions didn’t appear as though I was probing him for information.

  “Like it?” he asked, proudly showing off the ring to me. “I hear it is part of a set, each worth a king’s ransom.”

  I would have dismissed that as a tall claim if I couldn’t sense an eldritch aura emanating from it. The harder I looked at the ‘sapphire’ gemstone in the ring, the more varied colors I could see glittering and sparking at the edges. Whatever this was, it wasn’t some mere bauble, that’s for sure.

  But hang on, if the ring really was worth that much, then wasn’t he being a bit too cavalier with it? Was that because he had faith that I wouldn’t try anything untoward, or that even if I did, he would be able to handle it all the same?

  “You shouldn’t reveal that to a stranger,” I cautioned.

  “Oh, don’t worry, I wouldn’t usually. But I know you’re the trustworthy sort, half-breed,” he stated cheerily, giving me a subtle side-eyed glance which implied much more than was spoken.

  I found my hackles rising. Half-breed. Those words, spoken with that condescending lilt, should have been easy enough for me to stomach. Then why did I find myself clenching my fists, and gritting my teeth? It wasn't just the reminder of my mixed heritage nor my indifferent divine sire; it was something deeper, something that stirred a rage I didn't fully understand.

  That realization was secondary in import to the fact that he knew or at least guessed my identity somehow. How and how much did he know? Who was he, and was he part of the Eldorian authorities?

  No, that was far-fetched. The empire was a human supremacist force to the core. They would never permit any non-human to be in any official position of power within its borders. Regardless, I followed my knee-jerk response to try and wriggle out of this situation by using the age-old maxim: deny, deny, deny and obfuscate.

  “I’m not quite sure what you mean,” I said in a clipped voice, struggling to appear unruffled.

  “Oh” he sighed theatrically before starting to lazily stretch as he got up as if he was about to make his leave from the bath “My bad, I must have mistaken you for someone else then.”

  In the blink of an eye, he was in front of me, his right hand morphing into sharp claws, closing in dangerously on my neck. I barely managed to deflect the strike despite my awkward position. It was clear that while his agility was unmatched, my strength was more than capable of holding its own.

  'He's off balance!' I thought, seizing the opening. I lunged forward, a clumsy imitation of a ‘Flash Burst’ propelling me into a haymaker. He almost gracefully swerved out of the way, but the explosive force of the misfired art had already taken hold, my momentum carrying me forward despite his dodge; my fist, crackling with channeled mana, slammed into the edge of the bath with a bone-jarring thud, the incomplete art detonating in a spray of scalding water and tile shards.

  Before the echoes of the explosion had even faded, my opponent capitalized with a blindingly fast strike, claws extending into wicked blades aiming to decapitate me. The water churned around us as I reacted instinctively. My body temperature spiked, a furnace igniting within. Golden-red mana flames violently erupted, engulfing me in a scorching aura. In my desperation to drive away my attacker, I had called on ‘Flame Shield,’ my only mana art that I could activate near-instantaneously.

  In a grand display of athleticism, he converted his lunge into a somersault, sailing over my head and landing behind me. I whirled around, my flames hissing and crackling in the water, the pool was smothering their intensity, with steam rising in angry clouds.

  In ideal conditions, I’d be able to maintain this blazing aura for roughly ten minutes at the cost of a third of my total mana reserves. But these conditions were anything but ideal. I was partially submerged in a large pool of water, which was gradually extinguishing my stubborn flames and sapping away my heightened body heat by distributing it and converting some of the water’s own volume into steam and vapor.

  I’d been forced to waste a large chunk of my mana reserves with just those two maneuvers from my adversary. It was beginning to dawn on me that this was no chance encounter, and my opponent had very cleverly selected a battlefield where I was at a significant disadvantage.

  As we faced each other, sizing each other up, waiting for who would take the initiative to attack next, yet neither of us moved. We were like two apex predators, each acutely aware of the other's strength, the cost of another clash looming in the charged silence.

  “No need to be shy, half-breed,” he taunted, circling me slowly, his eyes never leaving mine as he returned to his former spot. “You’ve been under surveillance by interested parties for some time now.”

  “Who are you? What do you want with me?” I demanded, not in the mood to engage in any roundabout, hollow small talk anymore. I realized that something about him had been putting me on edge from the moment I had laid eyes on him. It was not something I could put my finger on until now.

  He reminded me of a house cat one of our neighbors used to keep, who had a tendency to play with any rodent she caught for hours before killing it.

  Quite like our squad’s serjeant now that I thought about it. Being reminded of that cantankerous, holier than though lout was enough to foul my mood further.

  Oh oh that reminded me where else I’d seen the ring’s symbol. It was drawn into the gravel along with other potential symbols by our squad when we were trying to decide what our future adventuring party’s name and sign would be. After almost three hours of back and forth we had settled on that symbol.

  My opponent inhaled deeply through his parted lips. His eyes flickered briefly towards the entrance, as a smirk crept up his face.

  Before the showdown could continue, I was distracted by shouts and pounding footsteps rushing towards our location. My attention snapped to the entrance.

  Seizing the moment, my foe sprang into action, darting towards the wall. With impressive agility, he scaled it, reaching for the grilled window near the ceiling, which served as both a vent and a source of natural light. By the time I registered his movement, he had already morphed and squeezed his body through the grills, swiftly disappearing from sight.

  In the uneasy silence that followed, as my racing heartbeat gradually slowed, my eyes swept over the ruined room. With a jolt, I realized I needed to disappear quickly. There was no way I could explain the commotion and damage we had caused to the bathhouse without divulging some details about my abilities, which I needed to keep hidden. The fewer people who knew about it, the better for me.

  This entire incident would undoubtedly attract the scrutiny of the authorities and most likely the Mage Council, and it would be best if they did not find me here.

  I quickly scanned the room for an escape route, but the only option was the window my adversary had used. Unfortunately, the grills were too narrow for me to squeeze through. The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps crescendoed, their imminent arrival heightening my sense of urgency.

  I sprinted towards the door, my bare feet slapping against the slick tiles. Sharp shards of debris dug into my soles, but I barely noticed in my rush. As I closed the distance, I channeled mana into my right hand until the air shimmered around my palm. Just as the people on the other side reached the door, I lunged, clamping my hand onto the metal handle. Heat surged from my hand, causing the metal to glow a faint red."

  I heard someone slam against the door from the other side before a sharp yelp pierced the air, followed by a clatter. "Don't touch it! It's burning hot!" a voice yelled, the sound muffled by the thick wood. I could hear the shuffling of feet as the people on the other end seemed to back away from it.

  Having bought myself a brief respite, I scrambled to the window and leaped, swiftly climbing up to reach it. I grabbed two vertical bars of the grill and channeled heat into them, silently praying they weren't iron. Relief washed over me as the metal softened, yielding to my immense strength. I bent the bars, creating enough space to pull myself through and escape.

  Just in the nick of time, the door to the baths burst open with a resounding slam, and I heard shouts echoing from inside, "What happened here?"

  But, by then, I was safely out of sight, climbing the remainder of the wall and pulling myself over the bathhouse’s squat roof. Fortunately, my manoeuvre went unnoticed, likely because I was in a relatively secluded area of the complex, away from any street-facing sides.

  A quick scan of the rooftop revealed no immediate threats, only lines of drying laundry flapping gently in the breeze. The sight of the hanging clothes triggered a jolt of realization—I was stark naked. I had been battling my opponent in the nude, a detail that had completely slipped my mind in the heat of the moment.

  To my immense relief, I spotted a familiar set of garments among the drying clothes. I quickly pulled them down and got dressed, grateful that I wouldn’t have to resort to stealing someone else’s clothes—the mere thought that I would have had to resort to petty thievery leaving me feeling deeply ashamed.

  Only now, as my adrenaline began to wear off, did I realize how exhausted I was. I must have burned through nearly half of my mana reserves during this ordeal. My limbs ached and my hand felt as if I had pulverized it, and sharp, stinging pangs began to spread through the soles of my bare feet, painfully reminding me of my missing sandals.

  I dared not risk entering the bathhouse to retrieve them. I hoped that wouldn’t come back to bite me later.

  Reflecting on the morning’s events, I felt oddly grateful for my carelessness in forgetting to bring a second set of clothes, which were essential for maintaining my cover as an ordinary person. But today, this oversight proved to be an unforeseen boon, as it left one less piece of evidence for the authorities to trace.

  Right now, my priority was to make my way back home undetected, barefoot and plan on how to deal with the fallout of this debacle.

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  With a cheery expression, the stranger exited the bathhouse, nearly missing the non-descript man of indeterminate age leaning against the wall. Hidden in the deep shadow of a large tree, he was practically invisible from the street.

  In mere moments that facade sloughed off from the man like butter melting in a hot sun leaving him in a very conspicuous cloak and grey mask which had the symbol of a great serpent eating its own tail. At the center of the ring formed by the snake were two stars.

  “You think yourself to be very cute do you, Nu? You know Alpha didn’t ask you to approach the potential candidates. If you step out of line again Alpha will have your head.” The warning was delivered in a sharp, no-nonsense tone.

  “Aww, come on, Beta. Here I go out of my way to help ease your burden, and this is the thanks I get?” His jovial tone and high spirits did nothing to improve his colleague’s mood.

  The cloaked man remained silent for a moment; his eyes fixed on the retreating figure with a striking appearance. His knuckles whitened as his hands clenched, trembling for a split second before he swiftly regained his composure. “This is not the task assigned to you. Don’t think we aren’t aware that you are trying to sabotage our potential recruits.”

  Nu feigned being cowed by the chastisement he had received, but both of them knew he was not being serious. “Ok, fine then. Let’s focus on the main order of business.”