41 – Spilling The Beans

To qualify all those who worship demons as evil would be a grave mistake.

Certainly, the vast majority of them are scum. However, some are simply misguided, and they can be brought to the light.

It’s to my greatest regret that my colleagues do not share that belief.

Excerpt from Demonology, by Alfred Dumries, Keeper of the Iron Ink.

“You mishandled both the harvest and transportation, this severely impacts how much I can give you for the paralytic agent,” Maret argued, his frown deepening as he examined the substance.

Alexandra shook her head. “So you say, but I claim the contrary.”

The alchemist looked at her, and pointed at the gourd. “Water contamination, traces of destructive magic, and the glands themselves are nowhere to be seen.” He scoffed. “I’m a professional. Don’t insult my intelligence.”

She didn’t relent. “Fine, it’s not perfect. But who else is selling Gallowbloom agent? Nobody. So if you want it, you have to pay the price.”

“Yet, you are the one in need of money, and you don’t know how to use the agent. How about we compromise on fifty silver, and I’ll give you the herbicide for free.”

Alexandra frowned.

“That’s a great deal for you,” Maret added. “I won’t pay more.”

She gritted her teeth. “Fine.”

He handed her the money and returned his attention to the gourd. “Now go, I have work to do.”

Louis and Alexandra left Maret’s lab, their heads down.

“I know we technically made a profit, but I can’t help but feel like I’ve been scammed,” Alexandra said.

Louis sighed. “It’s always like that with Maret. Let’s move, we don’t want to hang around this area more than we need.”

They walked in silence for the first minute.

Alexandra and Louis looked at the street ahead. A cart crossed their path. They stopped to let it pass and then kept walking.

“So,” Alexandra said.

“Yes,” Louis said.

Silence.

The street opened into a small square with a dry fountain at its center, the basin cracked and stained green where the waterline used to be. Above the door of the building facing them, carved into the lintel, an open eye looked out over the square.

“Does Maret always negotiate like that?” she asked.

“Sometimes it’s worse. He seemed curious about you.”

“My hair.”

He sighed. “Has to be.”

They took a left down a narrower street. Laundry hung between the upper floors, fluttering in the wind.

A group of men stood outside a tavern ahead, not quite blocking the road. Louis’ pace shifted, a slight adjustment, steering them toward the opposite side without breaking stride. She matched it without asking. One of the men watched them pass. Above the tavern door, an iron bracket held a sign: the Wardens’ eye.

“They’re everywhere,” she said, before she could stop herself.

“Yes.”

“All of this is Merinus?”

Louis was quiet for a moment. “Pretty much. Over the years, he consolidated most of the city under his control.”

It didn’t take long for them to return to Louis’ hideout. He sat on his bed while Alexandra took a chair. She broke the silence first. “So, you’re a thief?”

“That’s your take away from all this?”

She shrugged. “Gotta start somewhere.”

“I guess the cat’s out of the bag. Yes, I’m a thief. That’s even been part of my class since I reached Bronze. Happy?”

Alexandra gestured at the room around them. “Hardly a surprise. I mean, look at how you live.”

He smiled. “I’m still broke.”

She nodded. “What did you mean about your class? Did it change when you reached bronze?”

Louis raised his eyebrows. “You know, I may be a thief, but you’re extremely ignorant.”

Alexandra stared at him. It took a good minute for her to speak up again. “I’m not sure if I should be telling you this.” She paused. “I might as well,” she whispered.

“You don’t have to.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

She shook her head. “Shut up and listen. I’m not from this world. I’ve been summoned. I know nothing of how things work around here. Please help me.“

He blinked. “What?” Louis asked, mouth agape.

“You heard me.”

He stood up, put his hands on the table, and stood there with his back to her.

She watched him, her heart tightening slightly. Was it a mistake?

“Louis? Hello?”

He turned around. “Okay, okay, slow it down. You’ve been summoned? When?”

Alexandra called her journal, and waved it at him. “Twelve days ago.”

He took a deep breath. “So… If what you say is true, you’ve only been training for that long? And you plan to take down the Yshant?”

It was her turn to be surprised. “That’s your first question?”

Louis grabbed his cheek with both his palms. “Right, sorry. There’s something more important… Are you a hero?”

“What if I am?”

Louis bit his lips. “My relationship to heroes is complicated.”

“Tell me about it.” Alexandra said. Seeing as he wasn’t answering, she insisted. “I’m not going to smite you or whatever you’re thinking about.”

He sighed again, resting his elbows on his knees. “I doubt you could. Not yet, at least.” He chuckled under his breath. “Man, why do these things always happen to me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw a hero. For anyone else, it would have been the greatest honor. For me, it was the worst day of my life. Do you know how the Architects operate?”

She shook her head. “I don’t even know what the Architects are. A divine order similar to the Wardens, I suppose?”

“Yes, they are the agents of Peshan, the goddess of Civilization.” Louis’ voice was low, his pace deliberate. “They ensure that humanity is, well, civilized. To their standards, of course. Maybe you can connect the dots.”