D J Horizon

Their Mind and Matter – Chapter 4

Casimir had many ideas about how he’d spend his first real day in Daolin’s court. It was not his idea, however, to instead spend that day some one hundred miles away in a city full of strangers.

Now, it’s important to note that he managed it all in an absurdly short span of time. So short, in fact, that he returned before Valeska had even noticed he was gone. This entire adventure passed in less than two hours, and Valeska wouldn’t believe him that such a thing were possible for weeks to come. Which brings us to the key to this story–teleportation, and its endless silly possibilities.

Casimir awoke, not with the glimmer of sunlight waking him, but something else that shone. He rolled over in bed, expecting to see a window open and letting some of that crystal whatever-it-is light through, but instead spied a small glowing bird. The creature had wisps of bright energy stringing off it slowly, like tiny rays from a tiny sun. It didn’t make a sound, but instead seemed to bow, then vanished in a flash of light.

‘Huh.’ Casimir sat up for a moment, trying to decide whether the creature was some sort of surveillance beast made by magic, or an actual living creature. The former would make for some interesting conversation–magic was the most interesting thing, after all. It then occurred to him that Valeska was lying beside him, dishevelled and definitely not dressed. And, to be quite frank, neither was he. ‘Ah,’ he mused. Now, if it was the former, there might be less conversation and more… how do they say it? Throwing hands.

‘Hey,’ croaked a voice in Tri’squenan from down below. Valeska lay with a hand over one eye and her hair splayed out like a lion’s mane.

‘Good morning,’ Casimir greeted in the same language as he leaned down to kiss her. ‘How’d you sleep?’

‘Well enough.’ She reached a hand up and poked his cheek, giggled as he stuck his tongue out, and slowly drew herself into a seated position.

‘It’s quite a comfortable place for something they had lying here for several months. This hearth, I mean.’ Casimir drew her into his side for a few moments, savouring the peace and warmth.

‘It’s nice.’ Valeska nestled into his neck. ‘I think it’ll really feel like home, in time.’

That was all Casimir needed to hear. The one thing that worried him about coming to this place is that they were stuck there by agreement, and he wasn’t so sure Valeska liked that. It was rather nice, this hearth that sat on a lone ledge. It was separate enough from the other hearths so that they had the privacy they needed, but also was one of the closest hearths to the main bar and dining area. It also meant Casimir could keep a better eye on that Jade Pillar character. What was her name? Oh yes, Your Opponent. Couldn’t forget that.

‘What’d you want to do today?’ Valeska asked with her face now pushed into Casimir’s dead arm. The wound upon it had long sealed up, but the scarring was horrendous–a massive jagged and bumpy patch where the shoulder had been punctured.

‘Not sure,’ Casimir responded slowly. ‘You said something about tattoos before you fell asleep last night. What was that about?’

‘Oh, yes.’ Valeska drew back with pink in her cheeks. ‘We’re in a country where tattoos are more common, so I thought I might get one. Raiken said he knew someone here.’

Before Casimir spoke, he thought about asking her why, but he knew that answer. Particularly when it came to families like Valeska’s, Tri’sque as a civilization considered tattoos to be a blemish to one’s body. Hence why a lot of common folk got them–to show their disregard of old thinking. He instead asked, ‘what’ll you get?’

Valeska clutched her shoulder as she wriggled to push the last blankets off. Then, she smiled. ‘You’ll have to wait.’ With that, she leapt from the bed and escaped the room before Casimir could pry further. He accepted that response, and instead smiled at the flash of fiery hair before playfully pursuing.

•••

Seated at the bar, Casimir ran his finger along the metal side of the mug set before him. A large set of hands folded in front of him–Raiken’s hands. Today, the man looked rather welcoming. He had no weapons or fancy Daolin’s Court clothing, nor gear for traveling, but instead a simple white shirt and overalls, with a towel thrown over his shoulder. Valeska had left to get her tattoo some time ago, so Casimir chose to burn time with a friend.

‘A bird, you say?’ Raiken tapped his thumbs together and hummed. He cringed and averted his eyes.

‘What?’ Casimir tried to stay in the gordlenan’s gaze. ‘You know, don’t you.’

‘Uh.’ Raiken nodded slowly. ‘It was indeed an observation spell. There’s only one person who uses a bird for it, too.’ He chuckled to himself. ‘The pervert you wanna give trouble is Ranil Thros, our mail runner. They live at the end of this platform, in that wall.’ He pointed out a wooden door at the far end of the bar.

‘Oh, I will give them trouble.’ Casimir knocked back the last of his drink, and stormed toward the door.

‘Who are we troubling?’ A flash of blue and suddenly an elderkin woman was three inches from Casimir’s face. Rameya.

‘The mailperson.’ Casimir pushed past her and hurried toward the door.

‘What did they do this time?’ Rameya drew a small and questionable block of metal from one of her many pouches as she kept pace with Casimir.

‘Watched Valeska and I sleep.’

‘Ugh, they seriously don’t get privacy. I’ll back you up.’

‘Thank you.’ Casimir finally came to the door and politely knocked.

The sound of scampering feet came from the other side, then the door swung open to reveal a person like none Casimir had seen before. They seemed to be human, but a pair of feline ears protruded through the long dark green hair on their head. Not only that, but a long cat-like tail flicked behind them erratically.

‘Mail to send?’ they asked. There was a split second that their eyes simply danced around the two visitors, until they clearly recognised Casimir. ‘Ah, sorry, gotta get a shuffle on and start the mail run. Boss man Gavel won’t be pleased if I’m late on return this morning.’ They tried to close the door, but both Casimir and Rameya pushed back.

‘You will explain yourself first, uh, Ranil.’ Casimir took the first step into the room. It was an absolute mess of papers, ink-stained desks and multitudes of disrespected stationary.

‘Just an accident. I must go!’ Ranil dashed into the small room and snatched up a saddlebag of sorts. They cracked something in their hand and a sudden flash of bright light enveloped them. The energy fanned out to form large wings, like a grandiose bird was wrapping itself around them.

‘Quick!’ Rameya leapt into the room and made for the mailperson.

‘You won’t get away!’ Casimir lunged onto Ranil just as the light became blindingly so. A strange prickling sensation covered his skin, and he had to close his eyes. For that moment, he felt himself spin and whirl weightlessly, the only definite things were the feeling of holding Ranil, and Rameya’s incessant laughter.

Then, they came to a stop. The light faded, and Casimir no longer clung to Ranil. A blue sky patched with grey clouds hung above, beams of sunlight raining down on the sight of something incredible–a city. Bright cream-coloured buildings filled every corner of his eyes, with magnificent paved streets that wove like the threads of a tapestry. Some roads rose over others, intertwining and mixing to make a web of beautiful architecture. Some buildings rested under streets, whilst their neighbours on the bridging pavement above rose into the bright sky. Casimir was overwhelmed with colour he had never experienced before, as people of all kinds strode by. Elves, orcs, humans, dragon bloods, elderkin, owlfolk, leonfolk, centaurs, felus, leopardfolk, firbolgs, halflings and so many more kinds of people wandered about the streets for their business.

A sudden great roar rocked the skies and very slate beneath Casimir’s feet, as something took to the sky from deeper in the city. It spread a pair of mighty brass wings, flexed its talons and kept its long snout pointed skyward. Climbing for the clouds before Casimir’s very eyes was an undeniable dragon. Yet, the people hardly paid it mind. The creature swooped to the top of an open tower, where a small platform jutted out the side. There, it began to converse with someone standing on that very ledge.

‘Tickets!’ cried a passing vendor. ‘Come and see Sharune’s first big aurball game tomorrow night! The combatants have been picked and the stage is set. Just a gold per person!’

Sharune? He froze. As in Hophreda’an’s capital? I’m in the City of Advancement?

With everything happening at once, Casimir completely lost track of his task. He was mad at someone, right? Ah yes, the pervert mailperson. Where did they go?

‘Rameya?’ he called out. ‘Where are you? Mailperson whose name I’ve forgotten!’ He followed the nearest road, letting it take him where it willed. Surely someone in this place had seen a woman with a belt of tiny bags, or a cat person. The street took him upwards and over several buildings, bridging to a whole new open square in the city. On the way over, he managed to catch sight of the literal tail end of the dragon, as it dove down to the streets somewhere further in the center of the city. The height also let him see the distant walls that protected the city, as well as the inner-ring walls that must have protected the nobles or leadership here.

Finally, he entered the new section of the city where a bustling market was running. He placed a hand on his trouser pocket, remembering the little bit of money Raiken had paid him that morning for assisting with the Ruin of the Catalyst delve. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to do a spot of shopping in the self-proclaimed magical discovery capital of the world. He wandered from vendor to vendor, coming across all manner of fine imported goods, but nothing quite what he wanted. There was a lovely pair of weapons called Nadarian Katar, but he reminded himself that he was looking to do something different to The Jade Pillar and Valeska, when it came to his fighting.

Then, almost like it only chose to reveal itself now, came the bookshop. Nestled on a pointed corner at the edge of the square, this bookshop looked small, but possibly the type to have all sorts of outlandish scripts. Casimir made a line for it without hesitation.

Stepping into the front door, he found that it was indeed small in depth, being only a few meters deep. However, the bookshelves ran from floor to ceiling, and that ceiling was three whole stories up. Several sliding ladders allowed for access to those higher levels, and they gave Casimir a strange buzzing in his chest. An old love for books had been rekindled.

‘Good morning, can I help you at all?’ asked a half-orc woman. She seemed to be stepping away from another customer in the store, and adjusted the tiny blue-framed glasses on her nose.

‘Ah,’ Casimir began, but also froze. What did he want? ‘Oh! Do you have anything on basic magic?’

The woman shook her head immediately. ‘Books on magic spells and such cannot be sold at a regular store like mine, but I do have a small section on magical philosophy.’ She gestured to the back wall where that other customer was climbing a ladder to reach the top. ‘On the top right hand side. Just use the ladder from the side wall, as the kind gentleman there is already headed for the same section.’

Casimir nodded in thanks, and carefully made the climb up to the top of the ladder. He hooked his poorly arm over the rail to anchor himself, and then pushed against the bookshelf to propel himself toward the back. Now, he just had to endure the awkwardness of looking in the same section as someone else. Casimir hardly minded the interaction, he just hoped that this other customer hadn’t already picked out the good ones.

The customer was nose deep in a nice leather book, one hand clutching the book and the other rocking himself back and forth on the ladder. Casimir thumbed through the spines, but quickly realised that magical philosophy was a bunch of old mages deciding that magic shouldn’t be a weapon or whatever.

Casimir stole a quick glance at the back of the book the other fellow was reading, and was surprised for two separate reasons. One, the book itself looked to be exactly the kind he needed. It was titled Heart of the Mage, by C. Depliagus. The writer was so famous, even Casimir had heard stories of the prodigy mage who changed the way the world thought about teleportation. If such a mage wrote this book, surely it was good. The second reason he was surprised was the customer himself. He was elvish, but a sort that Casimir had never seen or heard of before. His face was beautiful, deep blue skin shimmering with tiny white freckles like a night sky. His long silver hair lay perfectly over his shoulders and framed his face, giving a powerful contrast to the dark purple eyes that now were looking at Casimir.

‘May I help you, friend?’ he asked with a deep soothing voice.

Casimir would’ve fallen off the ladder, if he could flail both of his arms in surprise. He’d done it, the forbidden deed of staring too long and getting the stranger’s attention. Now, to find a way out. Or maybe this was his chance to get a look at that book.

‘I, um… you–you see…’ Fantastic start.

‘Your clothes,’ the elvish man began, ‘they’re reminiscent of Gadrothian culture, right?’ He carefully closed the book and tucked it beneath his arm.

Casimir had to think for a moment, before he realised what the question actually was. ‘Uh, yes! Sorry, yes. The people I work for seem to have that influence.’

‘You mean, you’re not certain?’ asked the gentleman innocently.

‘Well, I’m only a day into working for them.’ Heat flushed in Casimir’s face, and he wished he was blue so he wouldn’t need to worry about turning red. Or would I just turn purple?

‘I see. Then we can’t make any assumptions, can we?’ The man gestured with his right hand. ‘Inugela Nyrea.’

‘Casimir.’ Reaching with his right hand awkwardly crossing his left, Casimir tried to shake the fine gentleman’s hand.

Then, he slipped.

Shelves and books alike blurred in that moment, a disorganised rainbow of spines and words seeing Casimir off. Gravity threw him downwards with a merciless gusto, and he awaited the cruel slam from the wooden floor.

It never came.

A pair of arms wrapped beneath him, taking the full weight of the fall with nothing but a sound like wind and fluttering chimes to accompany it.

‘Are you alright?’ asked Inugela. His face was concerned but gentle, and his hair had scarcely fallen a strand out of place. Above them, both ladders rocked, and tiny glittering lights faded. Who was this magical man?

‘Quite alright now.’ Casimir managed a wide grin, rolling out of Inugela’s arms and back to his feet. He could have sworn he caught the elven fellow peering at his lame arm, but neither spoke a word of it.

‘Is everything alright?’ The bookshop owner came scrambling from the front, but both Casimir and Inugela waved their hands.

‘Not a problem in the world.’ Casimir shrugged and turned back to Inugela, suddenly remembering the book that started it all. It still rested beneath Inugela’s arm, somehow unmoved. This man’s knowledge would be far more valuable than the book. Maybe Casimir’s money would be better spent on something other than inked paper. He took Inugela by the hand, and finished the greeting they had started.

‘Ah! Right.’ Inugela smiled, but seemed a little sheepish all of a sudden.

‘Could I…’ Casimir trailed off.

‘Hm?’

‘A drink! Tea or something… can I buy you a drink as thanks?’ Casimir asked with far more motives than just a thank you.

‘Absolutely!’ Inugela beamed with excitement. ‘I went to a lovely little place around the corner yesterday. Shall we go there?’

‘Perfect.’ Casimir pumped a fist. Perfect, indeed.

‘I’ll just buy this.’ Inugela held out the book to the still startled shopkeeper with a new enthusiasm.

They made the short trip around the block and arrived at a small café that sat atop one particularly high bridge. Once they were seated and had their drinks ordered, Casimir set to work with urgency. Somewhere in his mind, he hadn’t forgotten that he was meant to be looking for some mailperson and a friend, but this took priority. After all, this man had teleported that short distance, and took interest in one of the forerunning mages behind modern magic. Casimir might never be so lucky again.

‘So, Inugela. Are you a wizard?’

‘A what?’

‘Wizard. You seem very magical.’ Casimir shuffled into his seat, occasionally taking a glance out to the beautiful city beyond. So many questions ran circles in his head that he was afraid they might start falling out.

‘No, I’m not. Is this because of my teleportation?’

Casimir nodded his head erratically.

‘Well, that’s more of a natural form of magic. As a fey elf, I was born with the ability to do that on occasion.’ Inugela raised a glittering hand which formed green energy on the fingertips. ‘But I have picked up some through other means.’

Casimir leaned in closer, speaking not a word, and praying this man had the patience to explain it all.

‘I see.’ Inugela leaned back as their drinks were served. He took a sip before continuing. ‘Galtrand blossom tea. You can’t get much better than that. Anyway, I come from a realm called Feyvia. Well… at least, I came from there around ninety years ago. Nevertheless, that was my home. In that realm, it is strange to be born without magic, so everyone receives a gift that suits their kind. In my case it’s teleportation.’ He swept his purple cloak aside to reveal the hilt of a blade. He turned it until Casimir could see the image on the side of the sheath. A single star. ‘The rest of my magic was gained through worship. Holy magic. My family worshipped a being called Endell, who gifted us with the power of starlight.’ Inugela’s eyes suddenly grew intense. ‘And just to be clear, I worshipped no such being. I tried as a boy, but found none of the elation my parents in particular had discovered.’

‘So do you believe in gods?’ Casimir asked, realising he was asking himself as well.

‘In a sense, yes and no.’ Inugela ran a thumb tenderly on the edge of his cup. ‘I believe these powerful beings exist, but I do not think they desire worship. Something about the stories told of them makes them sound quite humanoid–mortal–and I won’t worship something I can easily learn about.’ He took another sip, possibly hoping Casimir would change the subject, but Casimir had no intention of doing so. Inugela breathed deeply and slowly. He spoke, saying, ‘that aside, my magic may have started out in reverence to a being, but now it’s my own. I draw from a deep well within myself, and simply let flow what comes. It’s ancient, whatever it is. Some sort of power sourced from beyond this era.’

‘So, what would you do…’ Casimir trailed off. His mind swam with several versions of the question he wanted to ask.

Inugela tilted his head a little, the constellations on his face twinkling slightly like a panning sky.

‘What would you do if you suddenly sprouted powers that weren’t quite magic?’ Casimir finally asked. He wasn’t sure that was exactly how he wanted to pose the question, but it would have to do.

‘I don’t understand.’ Inugela frowned. ‘All powers are sourced in magic.’

‘Are they?’ Casimir felt a little audacious for posing such a blunt question, but Inugela seemed to take it well.

‘It is a rather broad term, isn’t it? Maybe the word magic is a bit archaic.’

‘What do you think of particle weavers?’

‘Ah, I see now.’ Inugela tapped his nose at Casimir with a smile. ‘Well, let me put it all into perspective for you. There are a few forms of magic–ancient, holy, arcane, divine and dark. Ancient magic stems from the past, usually resulting in nature-based powers like large vines or calling mighty beasts. Holy magic is the sort most often used by clerics, which heals and smites darkness. Arcane is the most common form of magic. It is rarely gained naturally, but when learned, can simulate most other kinds of magic. Divine magic is only wielded by those who tap into the very fabrics of this world. They gain understandings like no other mortal can, but at the cost of often appearing mad. Lastly, there is dark or forbidden magic. It has sadly become another common magic used these days. Necromancy and death are at the very fingertips of those who control it.’ Inugela gave Casimir a soft yet sad smile. ‘Its use often comes from a place of good, but is costing this world posterity. I worry there will be a day where it completely kills magic, and we will have to start again.’

Casimir sat back. It could be that Inugela was simply being dramatic and opinionated, but it also seemed entirely possible. What kind of magic was used to bring me back to life on that beach? Was it dark magic?

‘And so we come to particle weavers.’ Inugela seemed to shake off a cowl of deep thought. ‘Your–their kind is rather new. They appeared about one hundred years ago, when I was just a boy. At first, they were no more than a rumour, but now we see them in greater number than ever before. I have next to no understanding of this magic, or if it can even be considered magic, but I do know that it seems to overpower four of the five kinds of magic. Only divine can match it.’

‘Match?’

‘Indeed. Particle energy, as it’s called, transcends our normality to the point where some of its weavers have been known to become portals to other realms of existence.’

‘Become portals?’

‘Indeed.’ Inugela shuffled in his seat, righting his posture and taking the last drink of tea. ‘May I ask you a question, now?’

‘That would be fair.’ Casimir smiled, then frowned–he’d forgotten the rest of his questions.

‘Where do you come from? Your accent is unfamiliar to me.’

‘Tri’sque,’ Casimir began, ‘both my girlfriend and I grew up there before we came here more recently.’

‘Ah, what’s that like?’

‘Hm?’ Casimir was trying to play catch up with his own drink after realising he’d not touched it.

‘A girlfriend, a partner, how did you get together?’

‘I just asked her.’ Casimir lowered his drink to his lap, smiling as warmth filled his face. ‘I saw her from across the street on many occasions, before I gathered the courage. She was so beautiful, I just had to tell her. I have never met someone so enamouring.’ He sighed, remembering how wonderful their first time alone had been. Truly, magic held no candle to that flame. ‘Do you have someone, Inugela?’

The man’s blue complexion gained a hue of purple in his cheeks.

So I would turn purple if I were blue, interesting.

‘Sort of. I’m actually on a trip to both learn about this world, and know if I wish to be with her. Do I deserve her? Will I have the capacity to treat her right? How much do I need to learn, to know? All these sorts of questions pester me on the daily.’

‘Just tell her.’

‘Wha?’

‘Tell her she is beautiful, and that she is your world. If something feels wrong when you say that, then you’ll know. Otherwise, the fact that you are thinking so hard about it says enough already.’ Casimir clasped his hands together. Maybe it wasn’t entirely sound advice, but diving into something new had always been his style.

‘I don’t know. I guess I’ll think about it. We agreed to meet just over a month from now in another city.’ Inugela’s eyes dulled with a glaze shinier than polished marble. ‘I have time to work myself out.’

‘I see.’ Casimir finally finished his drink. ‘Say, can you teach me any magic to teleport with?’

‘Oh, um.’ Inugela blushed once again. ‘I don’t know.’ He folded his arms with a smile. ‘I guess I could explain the feeling, and then you could try to practice it. How much time do you have?’

‘Not a lot, if I am honest.’ Casimir sighed, thinking of Rameya, who was probably searching the streets for him in a panic. ‘Maybe you can simply explain it to me, and I will have to try on my own.’

A loud thump rocked the table, as a lovely leather book was planted on it by Inugela–Heart of the Mage.

‘I think this would do best in your hands,’ Inugela said cheerily. ‘Clivin Depliagus is legendary.’ He patted the book with a gentle tap of his fingertips. ‘And from what I’ve read, his book teaches the morals a good mage should have. I believe he cheekily hints at a lot of magical spells, despite it being primarily on morals and conduct. Consider it a gift for your advice.’

Casimir nearly protested that Inugela had already repaid it sevenfold after giving him the chance to ask such deep questions, but the recurring depth of thought in Inugela’s eyes told him that this man was at a strange crossroad in life. Best to simply accept. He grasped the book with a solemn nod. The book seemed dry and powdery to the touch, as if an invisible layer of dirt lay upon its leather. The words burned into it were entirely smooth in contrast, and Casimir found himself mindlessly tracing their letters.

‘Thank you, greatly.’ Casimir said with a daze in his eye. ‘I have always admired Depliagus’ work.’

‘Oh, I can understand. Aside from a book I owned at home, I’ve only been reading about him recently. He’s lived quite the life.’ Inugela rocked back in his chair, eyes glazed with thought again, but his smile seemed to hold a hint of contentment. ‘Did you know, they say he was friends with the last Forest King when they were both starting out as king and mage? And that he worked on magical marvels with an Immortal?’

Casimir simply nodded, unsure what some of those terms even meant. He was moments from asking for a better understanding, when he caught the image of something familiar in the corner of his eye. In the street below them, Rameya was scampering about, wiping copious amounts of sweat from her brow. Not too far from her was that troublesome mailperson, Ranil. Both of them seemed to be looking for him, and something about that warmed him.

‘I wish I could ask more,’ he said as he stood. ‘But my friend and our transportation out of here are looking for me.’ He lifted his hand to shake Inugela’s, and the fey elf quickly took it.

‘This has been a pleasant surprise.’ Inugela bowed lightly, hand over his heart. ‘Not a lot of it made sense, but I guess making a friend doesn’t have to.’ His gentle laugh seemed to call brighter sunlight from above, and that place felt happier.

Casimir nodded once more, before taking his leave. He hurried down the road, but stopped quickly. He spun around to Inugela, who was leaving in the opposite direction. ‘Also, don’t jump on someone when they’re teleporting! It really messes with things,’ he called with a laugh.

‘What?’ Inugela shouted back.

‘Never mind, it’s silly!’ Casimir didn’t have time to break down the steps that led to this fated meeting, so he hurried to find the others once again.

Finally, he caught Rameya by surprise, nearly taking her down as he raced around a corner.

‘There you are!’ She threw her hands into the air, and then grabbed his wrist. She refused to let go. The two of them then turned for Ranil, who looked utterly terrified about what was about to happen.

‘Sorry for throwing your magic off.’ Casimir smiled at the poor feline person.

‘And I apologize for sending one of my spells to look at you and your partner. I wasn’t told that you were… uh–um, you know…’ They made a gesture with their hands, clasping them together. ‘Together. It’s my job to play surveillance on newbies when I can, and there were reports of, uh, nois–’

‘Alright!’ Rameya dismissed the talking with a flurried wave of her hand. ‘Can you please just get us home?’

‘Of course.’ Ranil held their hands out, a small glass ball held in one.

As they prepared to leave, the glass ball cracking in Ranil’s hand, Rameya leaned to Casimir. ‘I saw you with someone. He was quite pretty. A friend?’

‘You could say I did a little intelligence gathering,’ Casimir began, ‘but yes, definitely a friend.’

And with that, magic enwreathed them and whisked them back to the depths of Daolin’s Court.

•••

A dark tunnel. Bedrolls lying in a mess with barely enough items around to make the space liveable. A group of darkly clad figures hunched over a table playing cards, and yet one sat on his own. Face mostly covered, he wiped a short blade clean of red, making sure to properly detail the rune carved into its side. He then exchanged the wipe for a whetstone, and prepared it for its next taste of blood.

A sound of heavy footfall echoed down the tunnel. The bandits grabbed their weapons, most of them drawing polearms and fine blades. The one sharpening his weapon stood ever so slowly. He would handle this like any intrusion. Swiftly.

‘Took me a while to find you,’ said the harsh voice of a woman.

‘Eh?’ The man waited for this intruder to show herself. From around the corner came a large and heavy-looking figure.

‘You’ve lost your old base, it seems,’ taunted the woman.

‘And you’re… taller,’ said the man with caution.

‘Alseius. You still consider yourself a capable hunter?’

‘Naturally.’

‘Then I have a job for you, and my master’s pay for it will be handsome.’

‘What’s the job?’

‘I’ve lost some precious cargo.’ The woman’s body glowed blue in places, shaped like words of a strange script. The dim light revealed a face… Taius Citna’s face. ‘Can you retrieve it for me?’

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