Her entitlement finally gave me enough anger to break free of the stupor I had been cast in. Going through my options, they were less than ideal. Certainly, I could burn my relationship with Kate and flee, but that likely would come with dire consequences. I could also resist, but considering Kate’s current leverage over me, and given her legal privileges, I doubted my chances there. But just because I had to go along with Kate’s current stupidity, did not necessarily mean that I had to make this easy for her.
In fact, if I played just coyly enough, I could likely secure for myself a better position than otherwise. First class on a sinking ship was still first class.
I firmed my spine and crossed my arms, jutting my chin up at her and meeting her in the eye once more.
“And if I say no?” I asked, tauntingly.
Her grin grew, her eyes alight with intent.
“It depends on how you want this to go,” she said, taunting back.
“Oh?”
“You wanna do this the easy way, or the hard way… ?”
I may have groaned at that.
***
I trudged alongside her, dead on my feet from exhaustion. I could have escaped this, I knew. But I could escape at any time in the future as well. And running now would be more effort than it was worth. So I continued following along, listening to her rant.
A bed had better be coming soon, I thought.
“Why… just, why?” Kate asked, pausing her tirade to ask me the reason for going out to the slums earlier that day. Or so I assumed. I had not been exactly paying attention word for word.
“It was a favor, this I told you. Would you rather I betrayed a friend?” My hope was that the rhetorical distraction would distract Kate. From her expression, the ploy failed.
“Crown and gods, woman!” Kate swore. “It’s not why you did it, it’s why you did it that way! Of course you shouldn’t start betrayin people–especially not if that could escalate to me. But what you did was godslickin dumb. You went off to the worst place, picked a fight with one of the biggest crews and I don’t even know what all those kun were, but them too… And you did that without any backup, any gear, probably without any actual plan too! Even I wouldn’t have just–just–winged it like that, and that’s coming from me… me!”
Kate closed her eyes and caught her breath, also wiping some spittle from the side of her face. To her credit, she made many salient points. Not that I could admit that out loud. However, she had been going on about this for several minutes, and I worried she would continue for even longer, unless I distracted her or appeased her. A deflection, I decided, would do nicely.
“Each of us has our own skill and realms of expertise,” I said. “Yours is brawling and swordplay, mine is infiltration and stealth.” I omitted my penchant for thievery. As violent and as boisterous as Kate was, she still had some connection to the idea of law-keeping. “I doubt you are intending to call my own skill into question.”
She snorted, continuing to lead me towards the Chasm. As I followed her, I assumed she had found a modest room to board in, likely somewhere in the mercantile districts. However, our route seemed to be missing most of the turn-offs towards anywhere that people lived.
“Course you’re not a brawler,” Kate said. “You got solid enhancements for sneaking. You could maybe do assassin type stuff? But definitely not a straight up fighter. Even back when you used ribbon blades, it was more sneaky trap laying than anything else. But that’s not what we’re talking about, is it?”
“Is it not?”
She blew a raspberry, a rather crude display of disagreement. “Nah. From what I saw yesterday, that wasn’t stealth or sneaking. That was a straight up brawl you were running from, and I don’t think you were any faster than those kun chasing after you…
“What would I have even done if you were hit? You didn’t see the aftermath of that stunt, but there were plenty of things going around able to kill, and you’re sneaky, not sturdy. Gods! You coulda even been captured. Kept down in the under or some cellar, a collar and cage and I WOULD NEVER KNOW!”
She was shouting once more. Fortunately we had reached the boardwalk that followed above the division, meaning that with the early pre-dawn hours that there were few disturbed by the volume. She turned us along the promenade overlooking the highway. Ahead of us by some distance was the Bridge Tower.
“It’s not getting through that skull o’ yours, is it. Maybe you need to shift back to hear me?”
Suddenly she grabbed hold of my shoulder and twisted me around, jerked me around really, to face her. She stared down upon me, the top of my head level with her chin. I could hardly meet her eyes. This aggression and proximity caused my stomach to squirm and crawl and I was torn between setting off a hallucination and doing something else.
“Well?” she demanded. I felt the compulsion to cringe away as she glared down at me. Her eyes felt too hot, burning icy blue fires–that could not have been natural, but I had naught a chance to think of it, so bothered was I. It was not until she shook me once more that I remembered to answer.
“I am unsure of what you wish me to say. I had owed a favor to a friend, one to rescue a fair maiden. That is within the bounds of your chivalric imagination I would think–
Kate smashed her fist into the nearby guardrail separating the promenade from the highway. The blow caused the wooden beam to splinter and bow outwards. The snapping wood startled me, along with the quick motion which I had only realized had happened after the fact. I had forgotten just how fast Kate could move.
“That’s off,” Kate said. “You know it, I know it. That pile you just tried feeding me is–” she clenched her hand to the side of my face. I doubted she would strike me, but she was mad. “I just… maybe I should tie you down. Yeah… it seemed to work before…” Her eyes grew unfocused in a concerning fashion. I was unsure of what she meant, but any of the ideas I could come up with were unpleasant. I needed to keep her occupied before she decided to follow through on something brash.
I put my hand on her shoulder, the same side as her clenched fist. “Let us not speak in anger, not now. I fear that words may be issued which would be difficult to take back. Perhaps this discussion can wait until tomorrow?”
She frowned, brows furrowed, before giving a terse nod. “Yeah,” she finally said, pulling ahead and dragging me along by my shoulders. “But you’re gonna be staying safe for the next few nights, at the very least. I’m not about to let you off an’ about when everything’s like it is.”
My plans were somewhat limited over the next several days anyways, without any operations planned, although I would have desired the opportunity to decide my own schedule. I supposed I could always agree now and renege later. “That sounds reasonable,” I answered. “But where am I going to be staying tonight? I find myself rather exhausted.”
She gave an awkward laugh, one that was strained by her previous airing and perhaps by something else. My concern doubled. I tried to figure out why, where she could have found that she thought would be received poorly. With our heading towards the bridge, along the boulevard, not many places remained. It dawned on me that Kate might have been more than allegorical when threatening me earlier. Up ahead of us was the ramp leading up to the Bridge Tower.
“That is…” I trailed off, at a loss of words, but suddenly very concerned by my potential loss of freedom.
“Safe as the Crown, yeah?”.
“Are civilians even allowed to stay here?”
“What, worried I’ll toss you in some dungeon?”
“... The idea crossed my mind.” I glanced away, towards the ground. I knew that Kate was incapable of locking me away, my own Talents would and should save me, unless I lost my right arm as well… oh. That possibility had never crossed my mind before. Now that I was considering the possibility though, I could not help but remember Kate’s back lit form in the rage inducing alchemical cloud. I lost track of my surroundings, causing me to jump when Kate placed her arm around my back, seemingly providing a side hug.
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t do that, you know that. I’d need to fill out some forms for that, an’ you know me.”
The proximity, the firm warmth, it helped distract me from my own thoughts. That, and her aroma. But still, a question remained.
“I doubt that your plans are for me to bunk with the garrison of knights or servants… does the Bridge Tower provide–” I stumbled as I reached for a word and found it missing, Imperial had no word for ‘hoteling’ “-temporary housing?”
“Eh,” Kate answered, giving me a side look. “Got traveling landed folk, some important knights, so they gotta have private rooms with ‘n stuff for their retinue n’ stuff. We’ll get you set somewhere nice, don’t worry.”
“I fail to match that criteria. I worry that I may be ill-received–”
“-Yeah, but don’t worry about it,” Kate said, confident. “I got it covered.”
She waved off my concern, leading me up the ramp towards the double-set doors and raised portcullis. The lanterns to the sides of the opening left it seeming more of an open maw than a tower entrance. But I was tired, and I doubted Kate would have brought me here had she not had the authority or ability to cover us, if at the very least for a single night.
It turned out, after checking in past a waystation, that there were no challenges to overcome. Kate led me up two flights of claustrophobic stairs and showed me to my bedroom for that night.
It was… nice.
After locking the door and ensuring I was safe and alone, I collapsed onto the bed. I slept well for what little remained of the night.
It was not until the next morning that I examined the room in detail.
There was a single door, a lockable one at that, a single window facing the Chasm, a bed, and a trunk for my things. The true luxury though, was the full length mirror.
It was not often I had a chance such as this. This room gave me a rare chance to undress, shed my Guise, and look over what I actually appeared as. Of course, the first thing I did was check my godsmark. After trying to parse the details through the fur, I decided to put my Guise back on for this part. After that, I examined these Marks.
Previous to the excursion to the under, I had three sites where markings swirled out from. Since, however, I only had two, though they both had changed and grown to account for this. These markings had continually grown, twisting and twining branches that only sometimes followed the skin. The markings gave the impression that they belonged in a three dimensional media, with pieces traveling above and below my skin. In only some places, the confluence of these branches formed what to me appeared as sigils or runes, although I supposed that they technically were not; runes were letters and meant to be broadly readable, at least to those which knew the language. For the godsmark, that was not the case. The only one who could read these markings was me, and that was only because of the same magic that had allowed me to grasp several languages when I had first arrived in the Wastes.
As that magic had been tied to my left arm, which had been severed, I had lost access to such conveniences as an impossible rate of learning. Thankfully, I still was able to make sense of my godsmark, the new sigils included. Not that it let me completely understand each mark. I could parse the gist of what each marking did, but not much beyond that. The rest required trial and error on my part, along with plenty of unproven assumptions.
On my right forearm, my godsmark began in a swirling seed, halfway between my elbow and the palm of my hand. From this point, three routes had originally spread out, however since the excursion, a fourth had squeezed itself in. These four routes terminated at a knot, what to me looked to be a sigil or a rune.
These were termed Greater Runes by Sacred Artists, however that term was largely restricted to the Marks which they themselves implemented, and not the ones crafted by unknowable alleged divinities–I scoffed in derision at the very thought of that. Mother had made it plain that there was nothing of the sort. But then again, magic was real and capable of affecting both mental states and the physical world around me, so perhaps there was something to those claims. At the very least there were powerful entities, that I would believe. I shook my head and shuddered. Moving on.
These Greater Runes, depending on level of growth, would join with up to three additional routes, bringing the four up to a maximum of twelve sigils, not Greater but not Lesser either. From these, another three paths were available to each, terminating in thirty six maximum Lesser Runes. In some cases, these routes had swirled all across my arm, ranging from the webbing around my thumb and fingers, up towards my shoulder.
I thought it all looked tacky, though there was a graceful pattern to it, almost reminiscent of knotwork.
Given the mirror, I began tracing out each of these lines. A part of me wanted to ignore these markings which I never consented to. But to ignore any tool would be foolish. I still only had a general understanding of what each of these markings did, though some were more sensible than others.
Athleticism and Gymnastics seemed to improve my balance, dexterity, and vigor, although not by much, at least not at the start. Climbing and Inversion seemed to both improve my ability to always find a handhold and to be able to stick to surfaces, even without a handhold, although I have found that vigorous motions or large weights could cause these grips to fail. Featherlight helped this by a substantial amount, as it seemed to physically reduce my mass. Fortunately, my bones appeared just as sturdy as before.
Stealth was an odd one, it made me less noticeable, but not by affecting physical lighting. This meant that the magic affected the minds of those around me. I had not tested its range, or if it had a range. I did not know if a person standing on a distant tower with a magnifying telescope would be affected by the skill. It was questions like these that bothered me; without clear answers, I had been forced to hope for the best.
Other sigils, such as those knots representing Trackless Tracks and Area Coverage, these affected the world around me, defying physics. No trail was left in my wake, except in the most obnoxious of instances. Were I to track through heavy mud, some evidence of my passing would remain. Were I to leak a trail of blood, it might not be an obvious trail, but some manner of it would be left. In ideal terrain though, I found that none could follow me, not that I had really put it to the test, except recently with the Kaiva Princess’ rescue.
Alchemical Immunity had become one of my most beneficial Sigils. It provided peace of mind against the horrific drugs and substances that these lands employed, such as the so-called ‘meohr weed.’ It also saved me from poisons, vaporous or otherwise. I found that I could consume a substantial amount of liquor as well, which came to be handy more than once. How these sigils operated, I could not be sure, but I assumed that physics were denied or altered in some way within my body itself.
One of my newest sigils, Beguiling Tracks it read, or so I interpreted, seemed to be another of the mind-affecting sigils. It seemed to confuse those who were attempting to follow or pursue me, although this confusion did not seem heavy or impossible to push through. It also could not be controlled. When the Sigil eventually grew into something formidable, the fact that it was always working would become something of a hassle. I could envision several problems where couriers or servers became ineffectual, to my own detriment.
Unnatural Concealment was another of my favorites. Instead of affecting the minds of those around me, it seemed to wrap and mold the shadows around me, if just slightly more than they would be otherwise. This made it more difficult to find me, especially as I lurked about.
I trailed a finger along another web of sigils that tangled and seemed to meld together, making it difficult for me to ever test what each of them did, or the extent of their effects. Eschiver and Evasion both seemed to help me avoid things, either by dodging or some other external means. They seemed to combine with the essence of Lucky Break and Chance Encounter to grant some form of fortune, although it seemed rather convoluted at times. At the core of the tangle, the feeling I interpreted from it was that its purpose was to have good things happening while missing the bad. It all felt upsettingly vague, although the results could hardly be ignored.
I then ran my finger over the most worrisome set of sigils altogether. Both for the feelings that the sigils brought, and for the fact that they should never have been there to begin with. The very skin seemed to have bubbled up in a keratoid fashion, causing the swirls and lines to rise and fall and pulse through my skin. In parts, it reminded me of a brand. I hated it. But, nonetheless, they were part of my kit and were arguably useful.
Her Flesh and Always Form were vague, although I thought they may have been in some way responsible for my left arm. As these sigils could grow and expand, it left me wondering in what ways this newly found arm could grow, and if there were other benefits which could be trained into the marks. Her Love and Tangible Hallucinations gave me the feel and taste of almonds and cloves of spice. Just thinking on the marks left my mind adrift, partially numbed, as though I were in the care of someone else, with not a care or responsibility to fear. Naturally, I especially hated this.
The only Mark that I had actually consented to began along my side, as of yet unattached to the godsmark. This marking was for grace and treachery, and I had found it useful plenty of times. Flexibility seemed to affect my mind as well as my body; it had been useful to help counteract psychics; it gave the feeling of a gelatinous pile of thoughts in that regard. I could imagine Belobog having to hold while sifting through that pile. This brought some levity, but only a minor amount. Persuasive Lies and Sweet Delusions helped me find words and arguments to compel other sapients. How this happened, I was unsure. I also noticed that the same effect could be applied by myself to myself, if I was less than careful. It troubled me that I gained a sigil that aided me in deceiving myself, as sigils were supposed to grow in the direction that they were used. Well, this fact bothered me until I thought of the next set of sigils.
Back on my godsmark, there was the section reserved for Spells. These had been scarred and blotted in places, and shifted in others. The Guise of the Kitsune had changed, alongside Malleable Form. Previously, the Guise would biologically alter my body into that of a human. Malleable Form would have allowed me to only shift parts of me back and forth. Now though, there was no biological change, and I was unsure of exactly what Malleable Form did, if it did anything at all at this point. Another changed set of sigils formed around Passive Enervation and Tithes to Above. These marks were bothersome, as they implied that a portion of what I earned went elsewhere, akin to some form of godly tax. While this was understandable from almost any point of view, the fact that several of my skills only worked when this tax was paid left me somewhat dependent on this alleged divinity. I sneered. In the mirror I saw that it looked as ugly as it felt, being beholden to them.
However, all of these complaints came nowhere close to the biggest detriment that had come with this godsmark: Obsession. Just thinking about it left me feeling ill. It was labeled as a Gift, but in truth it came more as a curse. I could not control who it affected, or how. Those that were affected became focused upon myself, for either good or worse, although mostly for the worse.
I shook myself from examining my marks. Going through the sigils would do me no good, although I did feel that I had a slightly better understanding of them, and a small, miniscule portion of myself could appreciate how they looked in the mirror: or rather, how I looked, at least while under the Guise. My hair had grown to shoulder length, a silky lavender mop. I could do so much more with it, curl it even, if I had the wherewithal or the time. My eyes burned and glowed cyan, although not near as brightly as they sometimes did. I practiced a smile, but it came across as too smug for my liking.
With a sigh, I let the smile drop along with the Guise. My true body, that of a ‘Kitsune’ I supposed, at least if the Sigil for the Guise could be believed and was interpreted correctly, then came to the fore.
I stretched backwards, letting my back pop. My spine stretched into my tail which swished through the air. It was very full of both air and long fur, also lavender. Some parts of this body of mine were luxurious, such as the tail. Other parts, not so much, such as the two lines of nipples and the lack of breasts. The muzzle full of teeth was a wash, both good and bad, situation dependent. The ears were sharp and I thought they looked rather fetching. The cyan eyes glowed brightly, although bestial in their appearance. My fingers and toes ended in talons, which were useful sometimes, but also a detriment to dexterous tasks.
Overall, as I admired myself in the mirror from side to side, overall I could come to love this form.
I may have spent too long viewing myself that morning, lost in thoughts, as I was unready when I heard a troubling discussion from out in the hall. What bothered me the most though, was the sudden itching burning sensation along my right forearm as one of my sigils grew. When I checked and saw which one it was, I suddenly grew concerned regarding the conversation outside my door. Well, that and the supernatural power that somehow emanated from this tattoo and affected the laws of probability and free-will. Thoughts best left for later.
Chance Encounter: 7/9 (+1)
There had been heavy steps clomping down the hallway, towards my room. A lighter pair had pattered towards them at a faster pace. A female’s voice called out, somewhat muffled by the door and reverb from the stone hallways.
“-Pause for a chat, if you would Sir Guardson.”
The clomping feet were likely Kate then, or her mother. I could not think of any other Sir Guardsons in the city.
“No?” Kate’s voice answered back, confirming it was her and not her mother. Which meant she had likely been coming to see me. I decided to prepare myself just in case, applying my Guise and shaking out my clothing.
“Really.” The other speaker sounded familiar, but I had trouble placing the voice. I hardly knew anyone else within the tower though, so any familiarity was likely due to coincidental similarity.
“Yeah, but I’ve got stuff. And I wasn’t planning on stopping to talk… least not with you.”
I winced at Kate’s social decorum as I hurried to finish dressing before I pushed upon the door and came out to the hallway, fully presentable. It was perhaps a rash decision, but I had been feeling somewhat more impulsive lately. I chose to not dwell on that.
As I stepped out, I asked “Is something the matter?” I turned towards Kate and the other speaker. “It sounded as though an argument was developing, and the…” I trailed off as I recognized the other party. “... Lady Gold?”
“You!” Lady Brittany Gold said, as crude as to point a finger.
“Oof, that’s right,” Kate said, sounding somewhat amused. “Two of you would know each other from the servants’ courses.”
Brittany and I both stare at Kate. She had to have termed it that way as a taunt. Brittany responded with a sputter, taking the bait for some reason.
“You know that’s wrong,” Brittany said just a little too loudly. “It is the Grace Program, well respected, and I have only enrolled in the beneficial courses of repute! Even a brute like you knows this.”
Kate smirked. Yes, she knew, I would wager.
When Brittany saw she would receive nothing else, she turned her attention towards me. “And you,” Brittany Gold said with an almost sneer. “What is one such as yourself doing here? In a dungeon, I might understand, but here, in the housing reserved for those of quality? Suspect.”
I considered both of these girls, Brittany and her slightly reddening face, Kate frowning between us. I was unsure of how to angle this, or if I even should. Fortunately, Kate answered for me.
“Hey, it’s none of your business, Gold,” Kate said. “Better question is what’re you doing here? You’re not with any o’ the knights.”
Brittany narrowed her eyes back at Kate before glancing behind her as though to check if somebody else was there before seeing the hallway was empty. It seemed strange that Brittany examined the hallway a bit more than was really required in such a situation, as though she expected somebody else to be there, perhaps to answer on her behalf.
“So?” Kate prompted. “Still waiting on that answer.”
Brittany sighed slightly before tossing her hair behind her and smacking her lips. “I have every right to be here.”
Kate cocked her jaw slightly. “It’s called the Titled Wing though,” Kate said. “Titled. You might have a rich family, but that’s not you, you’re not titled, last I checked.”
I shifted my feet just slightly in awkwardness. I began regretting poking my head out for this conversation, and I wondered if it was feasible for me to slowly ease my way back into my room.
“First, that is not the name of this wing,” Brittany said with authority, “This wing is for those who have the favor of the Crown and represent or have ties to their interests. It is typically the more affluent knights, but that’s a correlation, not a requirement. But even if it was reserved for those having a title, that would hardly explain why she–” once again Brittany pointed towards me “-is here. It really fails to make much sense. It seems like maybe somebody has snuck their friend in behind a certain captain’s back.”
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
I decided to go for it, and began inching my way back through the doorway, timing my motions for when neither of them were looking my way.
Brittany had begun to rant as well. “-how somebody like her has gotten so enhanced, without connections, without fiscal backing, without indebting herself with binding vows or oaths, I can only guess, but it is likely illegal! Highly so at that!”
Kate made a mocking sound. “Sounds like somebody’s jealous.”
Brittany turned her full attention to Kate, her face reddening with anger. I began shutting the door to my chamber as Brittany continued on.
“Some of us had to sacrifice for what they have!”
“Yeah? But what about you, you go and sacrifice anything to get… what. What even do you got? Gonna tell me you’re one of those idiots shacked up with an Imperial Sigil?”
“Shut up!” Brittany hissed. “That is borderline treason!”
“Pff. Nah, it’s really not.”
“Just unbelievable–”
I finished shutting the door, locking it, then sliding the bar down. While I was not above listening in on rumors and potential intelligence, at the volume the two of them were speaking, I could still listen in while I gained some distance, while also gaining some deniability to their argument. To ensure I had that distance, and that people might know that I was doing something else, I went towards the open window and considered the narrow opening in the stone. It seemed just wide enough for my head. I pushed it through, although I had to angle it a bit to fit. The breeze up from the Chasm felt cool and damp. Above me, I heard the voices of the knights on watch. I glanced up and saw one of the knights look down, catching sight of me. They waved but otherwise ignored me. Meanwhile, I continued listening in.
“What’re you even doing here?” Kate asked. “Can’t imagine the beds’re any better than your place.”
“As if,” Brittany said with a sniff. “No, if you must know, my father sent me and my maid here to avoid any potential unpleasantness from the unrest.”
“What? You mean the stuff in the slums? That’s… like nowhere near the Estates. Besides, you’ve got the guards up there. Seems more dangerous here.”
“It would not be the trouble in the slums, but what they’re indicative of. Several elements are stirring trouble deliberately. Would any agent capable of doing this be content with simply disturbing the slums?”
“Hmm… maybe?”
“Impossible. Sir Guardson, I hope we avoid crossing paths for the immediate future.”
Brittany’s footsteps resumed, heading back the way they had come from.
“Sure, sure. Catch ya later and all that, Gold…” After a slight delay where Brittany stepped away, Kate apparently just realized I had left. “-Uh, hey. Jackie?”
Lucky Break I: 7/9 (+1)
I awoke to a distant clang. I noticed another sigil had grown in thickness, the skin about it still inflamed–it must have happened while I had slept, and recently at that. I considered this as I groggily gained awareness of the echoing clang.
It had sounded of metal on stone, somewhere in the tower, but not near enough to be a concern.
Still, it had awoken me. I had sleep dust along my face, my muzzle, as I had chosen to sleep with the door barred and in my true form. It had been luxurious, curling atop the bed, forming a nest of soft pillows and blankets. Falling back asleep would be desirous, and I closed my eyes to chase whatever dreams–
Another clang. Metal striking insulated metal. There was a shout as well. Another clang. A hammering blow this time. It could have been a pommel or a hammer being brought down. For almost a minute, there was silence. By this point, I had accepted that some event was occurring. What that event was, who the orchestrator was, and for what reason… These were all questions that arose, but they all were less than the question of what I would do to take advantage of this situation.
I supposed it depended on the situation. I arose from my impromptu nest, noting the lack of fur left behind. Luckily I had not shed, or I had and Trackless Tracks had deleted stray hairs. Fortunately, as it would be difficult to explain any strands of strange purple fur, at least if the housecleaning found them.
While I waited for whatever situation was occurring to play out further, I stretched backwards, letting my spine pop, twisting one way then another. It was not often I had such security, to enjoy myself like this. I took advantage of it. I reached down, hands upon the floor, then kicked off the ground. My tail and legs kept balance, though there was some lack of steadiness as I accounted for the extra appendage. After the wobbles ended, I spread my legs until they were parallel to the floor. Then I went a bit further. The contortions only then began to burn as the stretched ligaments made themselves known.
From somewhere below in the tower, another shout echoed. Seconds later, a clamoring bell was struck. Shouts proceeded from all across the tower, but largely from the garrison on the lower floor. Men and women were rushing to check posts and preparing themselves for combat.
I still was unsure how I would take advantage of this, or if I would. Regardless, I would be ready, should an opportunity arise. It was impulsive, but I chose to avoid recognizing that fact and chose to think about getting ready for a surprise job.
I slid my working clothes on. Linen canvas pants, worn to crease where I needed, terminating loosely at my calves. I left the boots in the chest, as they would have only impeded my true-form’s feet. I had a tank top, some form of wool derivative, clinging to my chest. Finally, I had my old leather jacket, which was sewn and patched over and over again, until it was more replacement than original. But the sentimental value remained. I checked the inner pockets, my tools were still there, hidden.
The trunk had the rest of my belongings from Ma’Ritz, but none of them would be relevant, unless I planned on taking everything. For now, I had no plans on taking such a drastic action. At least I had not truly considered the idea of leaving–but perhaps I should. I glanced back at the bed, the comfortable nest I had formed… But then I thought of how possessive Kate had been, the amount of leverage she held. Leaving might be for the best. Cutting ties, starting anew somewhere else with all my lessons learned.
Or I could play it by ear. No reason to decide everything right now, I decided.
If I followed the highway north, I would eventually hit the city of Bath. That had been where that first caravan had been headed, so very long ago. Should I head south, cross the Chasm, there would be colonies, and then the jungle. I had options. There was no reason for me to remain in Southbridge. So why was the sudden thought of leaving both compelling and prohibitive? I would explore this internal division later.
The tower shook slightly, a tremor.
From outside, from the city somewhere, there had been an explosion of sound. There was a grinding of bricks tumbling across bricks, of timber warping under strain, then shattering.
Shouts now echoed from without as well as from within.
Several additional tremors shook the tower.
There was pandemonium. Sounds of open conflict and clashes. People were fighting within the tower. Someone ran by my door, then another.
What was it that Lady Gold had mentioned about subversive elements? I wondered if I had a part to play in that. The Kaiva delegation had seemed like something that really would not have been permitted within Southbridge. Several of the gangs had grown larger than they normally would be able to, even with blatant corruption. There had been arguments between different groupings of knights, between knights and the peacekeepers. Was all of this coming to a head?
I remained unsure, but the chaos was certainly an opportunity.
Another glance at my trunk, closed and clasped shut, but not locked. Nothing of value was there, except a few drained Cee. I went to the door and waited, listening. When I felt certain no ambush was waiting beyond the corridor, I slid the bar off and unlocked the door. I cracked it ajar, but made no effort to move through it. Instead, I retreated towards the tall and narrow window which overlooked the chasm.
It would be a narrow fit, but my head had fit through as a human, and as a Kitsune my bones felt somewhat malleable. It still felt strange referring to my true form that way, but I had no other terms besides beastkin, and besides, my Mark Guise of the Kitsune made it at least somewhat clear.
It would not be long until someone else came by my quarters and noticed the door ajar. No dawdling. I slipped my head through the window first, then an arm. I had to turn my shoulders sideways, pushing one through then another. There was some strain, the leather of my jacket caught, a stitching came loose, but did not tear. The rest of me slipped through.
Malleable Form: 8/9 (+1)
I clung to the side of the fortress. I knew better than looking down. I had a sense of vertigo, just knowing that there was naught below me, but mist and unknown, assuming I never hit a protrusion from the side of the Chasm.
The darkness cloaked me. There were no guards above me. Afterall, no threats would come from this side of the fortress when the crisis was emerging from within the city itself. But carelessness caught many thieves. I remained alert to any source of movement from above. There were still slight tremors through the wall, but my feet and hands found purchase, sticking where there should be naught to stick to. The walls did feel damp, slick, and it did reduce some of the magic that let me stick to any surface. Fortunately, handholds had a way of forming just where I needed them. Again, one of my Marks under Athleticism.
My arm burned as one of the sigils was likely growing. As usual, I ignored it and continued climbing.
As this job was spur of the moment, a seized opportunity, a chance I had no thought of preparation for, the target remained vague. From an earlier visit to the tower, long ago, I knew that an upper floor contained the most prized of regents for Sacred Artists, such as living gemstones or metals. Likely, other tasty morsels were there as well, perhaps high quality enhancing elixirs, or a surplus of Chargers. There might have been weapons as well. I did not know, but I knew that there had to be something, that it was likely on an upper level, and that I had never had such an opportunity before.
So, I climbed upwards, not thinking too hard of anything, except where to climb, where the guards may be, and where a potential point of ingress may be.
The Bridge Tower was a heavy fortification set at the edge of the Chasm, best described as two massive, tiered towers, straddling the only means of traveling to the southern lands, the massive bridge which shared the same name as the city. The towers were connected through several fortified bridges, along with parapets to allow defenders to rain murder upon the invaders. However, as far as I was aware, there had never been any invaders, at least none so obvious. Most infiltration was performed by smugglers and toll evaders, at least if I understood Kate’s frequent complaints. Apparently, being forced to guard any of the tiered balconies was a form of punishment. I remained skeptical of that claim, as there were far worse ways to punish insubordination.
Currently, I was taking advantage of the fact that the upper balconies were understaffed. I climbed past one terrace, having to dash from the battlements to the next portion of the tower. That would have normally been the most dangerous time, as the terraces were well lit, and they were in view of opposing terraces, as well as higher lookouts and battlements. The first two levels were passed uncontested, with minimal danger. I was more worried of slipping due to the damp walls and frequent tremors. It was also distracting to hear a crowd roaring and the din of occasional combat.
I finally made it to the last of the balconies or outlooks. The door was barred shut from the otherside, and there were no current defenders or lookouts on this level. Judging by the old leftover platters and empty pitchers, I suspected that this balcony was used less for security and more for pleasure. But this left me with the problem of a solid wooden door, one lacking any means of unlocking from my side. Or it would have. I slid my knife through the edge and found the bottom of the bar. I tested with a tap and felt satisfied when there was no clinking of metal on metal. It meant that the door was not truly secured. I pushed upwards, and while the leverage was harsh, I was strong enough to lift the bar all the same. A quick jerk up sent the bar loose, and the door swung outward.
After seeing the platters and old pitchers of ale, I had been expecting a penthouse, or a room meant for entertainment. What I found instead was a long hallway and dust piled up at the edges. The lanterns were unlit, the passage dark enough that standard humans may as well be blind.
It was too soon to tell if the floor had anything of value or not, but I remained tentatively optimistic. And if not, I could already see the stairwell down. I made quick progress checking the doors lining the hallway. The first room was something akin to a meeting chamber, with a central table and multiple chairs–most of them covered in dust, except the head and two to the side. A scan showed nothing of interest, I moved on to the next, which was a storage room for standard supplies. Nothing under lock and key, likely not to be valuables. I moved to the next and found a library of sorts. The books might have been of interest, but I had now way of telling. I ran through the perimeter though, looking for signs of additional passages. There were none.
The next door was on the other side of the stairs. It was locked, which was promising. It only had five tumblers though, which dampened my optimism somewhat. After opening the door, I found a bedroom with an old man sleeping on a bed. His breathing was light enough that I was unsure if he was asleep or laying there awake. But he had yet to react to anything going on, including the opening of his bedroom door. I took a moment to scan his room. There was his bed, a small table with an open tome and pen, maybe a ledger, and then a trunk for personal items. It was not what I was looking for, but if my search turned up nothing else on the floor, I would come back and check the man’s room for valuables. I gently shut the door, leaving it unlocked, and I moved on. The next door was locked as well. This one had over ten pins to it, and it took me over a minute to pick. The mechanism kept resetting, and I found that I had to actually reverse the torque halfway through. I did not even know what sort of lock that was called.
I likely would not have gained access so readily, if not for the brief awareness of the multiple pins in their sockets and the reversing sockets. Nudging all of the pins just so and having them hold their positions almost reminded me of a dance, or a pecking order. This flaring awareness, the sudden but brief revelation, occurred at just the same time my side began itching–another sigil had grown. There had been much growth tonight.
Courtly Dancing: Treachery I: 7/9 (+1)
When the door opened, I regretted that I was lacking a convenient method of holding loot.
The room itself was not overly large, three yards in width and six in depth, at least from my perspective. Shelves lined the walls, several small chests lined those, along with messy stacks of glowing gems of different colors. They might have been Dungeon Stone, but I doubted it, their unprocessed form would be worth less than Chargers, so it would be nonsense to keep those here with other high value items. At the end of the room, the far wall, there were pegs holding up several weapons of note. There were several distinctive swords, one a saber, one a rapier, one a strange assortment with both a curve and a straight edge, but the only commonality was that they all were inscribed along their lengths, and they all had glowing stones embedded in their hilts. I might not know what they were exactly, but I knew that they were likely incredibly valuable. Unfortunately, they were also too bulky for me to take off with, and in no way were they fungible. But on that same wall, there were several miniature arcbows, something that might have been an engraving pen, and most interesting of all, an engraved and inscribed knife. I grabbed the knife and the most portable looking arcbow. It was the type that could slide on to a wrist like a bracer, which I promptly did. It was a bit snug under my jacket’s sleeve, but it would do, at least for now.
Then I checked the small chests. I found a couple dozen vials, but only seven of them were enhancement serums–I pocketed the seven. I also grabbed the suspected living gems, and a spool of High Silver. If I had more room, I would have grabbed more. But I still had to climb down the damp stone walls, and too much bulk or weight might do me in. Not that I thought it would, but it’s the greedy thieves that get caught.
Besides, my pockets were full, I had gained several items of use, and the vials would sell very well. Very, very, well.
I exited the room, not bothering to re-lock the door. I skipped the old man’s bedroom, and I exited back onto the same balcony. The sounds of combat had died down somewhat, although there were still some points of conflict and possibly rioting throughout the city. The guards would not be distracted much longer.
I began making my way back down the damp stone, relying on the magic of my skills to keep me aloft.
Climbing I: 6/9 (+1)
I passed the window to my assigned quarters, and I considered sneaking back in. It would be dangerous, especially if anyone found the stolen items. Considering that Kate knew my proclivities, there was a chance she would search my room as well. However, I still spared time to glance back at my room. It was still empty, but my trunk was open, and my clothes had been spilled out across the floor.
Someone had gone through my possessions already. Why they did so, I was unsure. But it showed that any stolen goods would be at risk of discovery, especially if personal privacy was so easily violated. Additionally, and most importantly, someone already knew that I had been absent for this event. It seemed too risky to crawl back in and pretend nothing was amiss. But that was fine. I could adapt. If I wanted to meet up with Kate later, I could always do that as well.
Leaving that window, I continued downwards.
It was near the lowest balustrade, the level just above the bridge, that I encountered a knight on lookout. They were watching the bridge, and seemed decently alert of their immediate surroundings. I ended up crawling laterally, away from the bridge, before descending once more. Once I got to bridge elevation, I moved laterally once more. If I went away from the bridge, then I would end up in the districts, but I would also be climbing for a significant amount of time. And while I had the skills… I may have made the mistake of looking down, at that bottomless drop. I decided to head towards the bridge instead, although I passed below the lookout view, and the shadows concealed me well enough from the other side.
Soon, I was on the highway, heading back into the city, looking for a spot to climb back up, and wondering if Joe was back at Laverna’s Cup. I needed a fence. Around halfway into Southbridge, I climbed up the wall towards the promenade, on the good side of town.
Beguiling Tracks: 2/9 (+1)
My arm burned, and not long after I heard footsteps rapidly approaching from above, from along the promenade. I froze in the shadows, and decided to re-implement my Guise, just in the off chance that I needed to slip in through a crowd in a hurry.
Another tremor shook the city, accompanied by a loud boom from somewhere in the slums.
“Another?!” A boy, or a young man said. They were one of the ones above me. “What are those idiots even doing?”
I furrowed my brows in consternation: that was an excellent question, except I had no idea who those idiots were. From the context, I assumed they were the rioters, or perhaps saboteurs.
“Careful–” A girl answered, her voice strained. Her voice was familiar, but just slightly different, possibly muffled. I thought it was Brittany Gold, or a relative of hers. Why she was out and about when parts of the city were rioting, I was unsure. The curiosity was not enough to draw me out.
“-Apologies, feel no obligation to answer that.”
I loosened slightly. It sounded like I would not be learning more about those alleged idiots. Why did I feel relieved at that?
“Thank you. But at least we were able to stay on this side. It takes ages to rinse the stink off whenever she sends us across.”
“Rarely do I find myself sent there. Perhaps you have upset her?”
I hope not! I thought. But, why did I have that thought?
“Or you have had all the luck,” she answered.
They walked past where I hid and they continued on several paces, but the girl slowed.
“Is there a reason to stop?” the boy asked. I could not help but admire the smooth tenor.
That is what I was wondering as well. I had been just about ready to keep going, or maybe find a different spot to come up from the highway. But now both of them had stopped moving, only a few paces along the promenade decking. If they had kept going, I could have already been up and out.
There was a rustling of fabric.
“Really?” the boy asked. “But even if so, should we not hurry? We were given our task.”
“Which is almost done,” the girl replied. “If I am correct, this will be a boon for Her Highness.”
“For, or from?” the boy asked. “But if this is so, I suppose a slight delay would not upset any plans…”
The hairs on the back of my neck were rising up, and my feet were bare against the rotting and slick stone. I needed to leave. I glanced at the highway below, the drop would be survivable, though it might sting, and it might make a noise. Just as I decided to start climbing down, the girl clarified.
“I would recognize that twisting mind anywhere. And now she is packing. You better hurry.”
Mother, take it! I swore internally. I knew I needed to flee, but I had yet to release my hold upon the wall. There seemed to be a dissociation between my body and mind and–
“Present yourself before us,” the boy said. “And be peaceable about it… not you Guesswork.”
“Thanks,” the girl responded in a tight voice. Her name was Guesswork?
The feeling of disassociation grew.
The boy’s voice echoed through my thoughts, lasting longer than they should.
Should I be concerned? I wondered, before deciding it was likely fine. I was climbing up and over the edge of the railing either way. I finished by jumping onto the wooden walkway, just in front of where the two were waiting.
The boy seemed surprised, the girl smug. Both were watching me. They dressed strangely, cowled and armored with tabards and insignias and… no, I recognized them. This was going to be a problem. Maybe. They were Vigilantes. The boy was Velvetcall and the girl was Guesswork.
“And there she is,” Guesswork said. “Although I wonder what brought her here when she should have been stuck in the tower’s guest wing…” The girl tapped her chin. She was speaking with Brittany’s voice. Oh. I wondered if I could use that?
Brittany’s eyes narrowed.
“No, you cannot,” she said.
Flexibility I: 5/9 (+1)
Guesswork seemed to be sneering, although with the cloth covering her face from the nose down it was difficult to say for sure. She did however complain. “What Her Highness sees in that scurrying rodent, I–”
“I urge you to be cautious, Guesswork. It is not to us to second guess–”
“-yeah, I know. Trust me, I do not need another reminder from Lady Trigg–” Guesswork shuddered as she said that.
Well, I had done as asked, and I had presented myself, but now it was time to be off. I had things to do that night, afterall. I set off at a brisk pace towards the nearest avenue, a merchant side street lined with a food stall and several shops. None of these amenities were open. Especially not with the din of a riot still wrapped over the city like a blanket.
“-Hey!” Guesswork interrupted her own rant. She looked about frantically until she found me once again. “Tell her to stop, quick!”
“Hm? Oh! Stand in place, right there, pause,” Velvetcall tried several orders in quick succession.
It left me at an almost stumbling shamble. I would stand still for a split second, then continue onward. I would pause for a heartbeat, then continue on. A portion of me seemed to be twisting around itself, intentionally believing different interpretations of these commands and then forgetting that this act had been intentional to begin with. My own mind felt slick and I was growing a headache.
Persuasive Lies I: 2/9 (+1)
“Stand in place, no–stop! Just, until I can–” Frustration tinged his voice.
I had given up the plan of waiting for the break in sightline. I was unsure of what I was running from, but I knew that I needed to keep going. If I could reach the nearest building, then I could climb and take to the rooftops, to hopefully escape.
“How is she ignoring me? Hey! Stop, stop stop I said stop!”
I faltered once more, mid-step. My breath caught, I lost balance and fell. I almost landed against the stone of the street, face first. Barely was I able to catch myself with my hands, but my wrists and elbows felt the strain from the lousy angle. It took a bit for me to shake it off, to even realize I should be shaking it off. But I had done as instructed, I had stopped. Now, I can move.
Persuasive Lies I: 3/9 (+1)
“Her brain is squiggly,” Guesswork said. “Try using the conditional first! Her name is Jackie!”
“Do not tell me how to use my own Skill.”
Guesswork coughed, sounding choked.
Velvetcall ignored Guesswork, and instead added an additional weight that pushed down on my volition.
“Jackie, the following directive is for you to apply to yourself–
Was there anybody else nearby that could be called that? I hoped maybe, but other than these two vigilants, there was nobody else there. Maybe they wanted me to find someone that just so happened to share the same name?
“-Until I provide explicit orders otherwise, you are to remain standing within three yards of that food stall ahead of you to your left–
There was only a single food stall in sight, but I knew that there were plenty more further in, and I felt certain at least a few of them would be on the North hand side, which in this case would be my left.
“-that is named: Barry’s–” Velvetcall sounded as though the food stall disgusted him “-Sausages. Crown, how is that so close to the promenade?” Velvetcall finished, almost speaking to himself.
But still, it seemed important to stop moving and stand in place, and my headache had grown to be almost a buzzing fuzzing sense of almost-comfort, but a painful sort. I decided I might not have liked this sensation. But if I just ignored that part that was buzzing, then I could almost concentrate, and that seemed good.
I turned to face both Vigilants with a feigned smile, acting completely natural.
“I believe you have me at a disadvantage,” I said gracefully. “I do not believe we have met.”
Guesswork had recovered from her strange coughing fit, and she snorted. “Liar.”
I ignored her, and kept going. “But certainly I am unworthy of your time?” I asked. I was unsure of why I had done it, but it had made sense at the time to say.
“Indeed–” Velvetcall began, almost confirming that he did not need me there any further, but Guesswork interrupted first.
“-Somehow she is trying to trick us into letting her go,” Guesswork said.
“What?” Velvetcall responded. “But how would she, when my abilities should prevent her from even wanting that?”
“As I mentioned before, her mind is devious and convoluted.”
Guesswork called my mind devious, but I thought confused was more applicable.
“It may be why Her Highness has expressed her interest,” Velvetcall mused, before catching himself. “This is the one?”
“Yeah. She is…”
“Very well,” Velvetcall said, before turning his full attention towards me. “Listen and obey Guesswork until I say otherwise.”
What? That is too open-ended, surely. Why does Guesswork seem unsurprised? Was this a standard practice for them?
“Thank you,” Guesswork responded dryly. When she grinned at me, it felt malicious, and a wave of discomfort hit me. I wondered if I could somehow leave yet. Before I figured a way around their instructions, Guesswork started speaking to me. “Stay put, Jackie. Ordinarily I would confirm you are definitely not worth a second thought, likely far less than a penny-whore–”
“-Guesswork!” Velvetcall sounded offended. Guesswork rolled her eyes.
“-But your presence here, at this time, during these bothersome events, seems highly suspicious. And that you had climbed up from the highway? Bypassing the border stations is a high criminal offence.”
“If that is a concern,” I said. “Then we might return to the tower and locate Sir Guardson. I am certain she will weigh in my favor.”
“Jackie.” Guesswork groaned in both irritation and some other frustration which I could not exactly identify. “It has also come to our attention that you have been truant, and that you have abandoned your previous residence without providing any means of locating your new residence.”
Maybe she means a A forwarding address? Once again, I found the Imperial tongue limited in regards to living arrangements.
“A certain party has requested your re-enrollment in several courses. Notably Massage and Dance.”
Is that seriously what this is about? I could have been on my way by now, if not for my truancy? And besides that, Kate had withdrawn my attendance formally. There should have been no further issues.
“For several reasons! Largely, a patron, one who cannot be denied, desires her potential attendants to be well versed in Grace. Knowing this, it will be to your benefit to cooperate. This patron cannot be denied, and can be quite forceful in acquisition.”
The patron was almost certainly the Princess Marissa. I failed to understand Her Highnesses motivations.
“As incentive is required, consider that girl of yours, Marianne. Or any other friend for that matter.”
Wait–? “Do you know Marianne’s whereabouts? Or Esmerelda’s” I asked hopefully.
“Perhaps,” she said. “Regardless, present yourself tomorrow morning at the Grace Hall of the Academy.”
I was unsure about this. It sounded foolish, and how could I be–
“Say that you will.”
“I… will?”
“The whole thing. Where will you present yourself tomorrow, and when.”
Now it was my brows that were furrowed. “I suppose at the dance hall in the morning.”
“Which dance hall.”
I grimaced, “The Academy,” I said, after a pause.
“And you ‘suppose’ or you know?”
“... Know.”
“There! Was that so hard?” Guesswork asked.
Velvetcall cleared his throat. “Guesswork, illuminating as always, but we are falling behind schedule.”
“Right.” Guesswork huffed, looked my way, shook her head, then huffed again. “Right. Best be off then.”
“Best of luck!” Velvetcall said, turning and once more heading down the promenade, away from the Bridge Tower.
I remained standing there for the better part of a half hour before I thought of moving. It never occurred to me to do otherwise.
Talents:
- Athleticism I (4/9):
- Climbing I (6/9) (+1)
- Featherlight I (5/9)
- Inversion (4/9)
- Gymnastics (5/9)
- Stealth II (2/9)
- Trackless Tracks II (1/9)
- Area Coverage (8/9)
- Beguiling Tracks (2/9) (+1)
- Alchemical Immunity: (2/9)
- Unnatural Concealment: (4/9)
- Eschiver I (7/9)
- Evasion I (5/9)
- Impending Sense (8/9)
- Lucky Break I (7/9) (+1)
- Chance Encounter (7/9) (+1)
- Courtly Dancing: Treachery I (7/9) (+1)
- Flexibility I (5/9) (+1)
- Persuasive Lies I (3/9) (+2)
- Sweet Delusions (2/9)
- Her Flesh: (3/9)
- Always Form: (3/9)
- Her Love: (3/9)
- Tangible Hallucinations I: (5/9)
Spells:
- [Slot removed]
- Guise of the Kitsune I (3/9)
- Malleable Form: (8/9) (+1)
- Passive Enervation: (5/9)
- Tithes to Above: (3/9)
Gifts:
- Obsession (5/9)
- Closed (0/9)
- Closed (0/9)