9th-Chapter

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A hunter and chameleon by nature, she burrowed into the fray of Port Blenham’s dock district to patiently await her mark. Ghylen’s prey in Roche Forest would have likely regained their senses by now. It had only been a week, or so she thought. It didn’t matter, they would eventually come. She was patient.

The bustling of the crowd and the danger that loomed for a young female didn’t phase her. The Fashwei were born to thrive in hostile environments. Never the aggressor, she would situate herself where she needed to be and get to work. To do so, however, she needed to blend in. She was very good at that.

“What’s that, little squirrel? Not sure that I’m catchin’ yer meanin’. Did you say permit?”

Confused by the reaction of the fruit merchant, Ghlyen repeated herself. “I wish to set up a stand, much like you have done with your fruit here.” Pointing to the wall behind the man, “And I would like to know where you obtained your permit to do so.”

“Ha! I thought cha said permit! Well let me tell ya somethin’, you’re too late for permits, little squirrel. There’ll all taken up! Here be honest folk who thrive in the chaos of the docks. And have done fer a long time.” The sweaty fruit merchant stared her up and down. “Jus’ look atcha. Dressed up like some forest ranger with yer pan pipes strapped to your back. What’s someone like you gunna sell anyway? Music and smiles? I think y’best be scampering along to the upper quarter. We gotta enough music down her’ and not the type you blow outta pipes. Take yer perty little black n’ green braid and scamper along. You’re bound to find trouble down here that you aren’t askin’ fer.”

She had almost had enough of this fool and could snap him in half in three twists. Best not to cause a scene, she thought. The man knew not what he was getting himself into.

“Trouble?”

“Ya, you know…boys havin’ too much to drink. Wantin’ to sample your wares and play with yer braids. Get my meanin’?”

Two kicks…one to the inner thigh, the second to the throat. Patience.

“No. I am afraid I don’t”

“C’mon…a pretty little squirrel like you don’t belong down here with us adults. Scurry along now. Don’t want to get your fluffy little tail stepped on.”

Casting aside the merchant’s chides, she pressed him, “Might I purchase one of these?”

“Huh? You want a watermelon?”

“Yes, I do.”

“A whole one?”

“Is there another way to purchase a watermelon that I am not aware of?” She could not believe how stupid this fool was.

(cont’d…)

Nodding absently at the large man, the Tangled Vine’s barkeep removed the mug from his table,“How much did you lose exactly?”

He looked at the barkeep with a glossy grin, “Enough such that it still pains me to think on it, Janthen.  It’s more of the principle of the entire situation, actually.”

“Agreed, Councilman Karsil. Most certainly. Would you like another tankard to mend some of that pain?”

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Hedyn Karsil replied, “I best not. Need to be alert for the council meeting on the morrow.” He reached across the table and grabbed his jewel encrusted dagger returning it to its sheath on his belt.

“We’re pushing for increased trade with Lashrez,” he continued, assuming the wiry tender appreciated the importance of his statement. “The High Seat doesn’t suffer fools gladly, you know!”

“Don’t take this the wrong way Councilman Karsil, but is the market district really a place you want to be seen in? I mean, as a member of council and all.”

“Doesn’t matter where I’m seen, Janthen. Matters what I get done,” Hedyn exclaimed.

“I suppose that’s true.”

He didn’t care what Janthen thought. It was his duty to familiarize himself with how the other half of Port Blenham lived, particularly wherever alcohol and games of chance were involved. The fact that he had been victimized by the ruffians of the dock district – one in particular – fueled that fire even more.

She was a diminutive street urchin. At least, that’s how she appeared when he had first come upon her early in the evening. She had been entertaining a gaggle of depraved onlookers hungry for a chance to make some coin. It was a game he was not familiar with and after a quarter of an hour at her table, she had managed to relieve him of a sizable purse. Hedyn Karsil was not in the business of losing.  

Setting aside his passion for gambling, Hedyn thought harder on the matter. Something about her had drawn him in fully and completely.  She was distinct, that much was for certain.  Brown clothes and hair, and a long brown braid wrapped in green and black. It bothered him.

“Now that you’ve brought it up, Janthen, something does not sit well about the girl and I aim to bring that to light!”
Lifting one of the patron’s heads off of the bar and sliding him onto the floor, Janthen replied, “Beggin’ your pardon Councilman?”

Annunciating slowly Hedyn repeated, “I said, I. Aim. To. Bring. That. To. Light!”

“What about the light? Is it not to your liking?  It might be more relaxing on the second floor, Councilman. The girls keep Room 9 open just for you.”

He was almost through explaining himself, “Janthen, you idiot! Have you not heard what I’ve been saying to you?”

“About the urchin and your disappearing coin, I assume.”

“Precisely. I aim to find her and remedy this injustice.”

“What injustice?”

“Taking my coin, of course. As a member of the council. It is forbidden. Yes! It is forbidden.”

Stepping over his horizontally laid out customer, Janthen queried, “Really?”

“But of course!”

(cont’d…)

The concentration strained his brow and directed his hands across the surface of the cavern wall with gentle precision. Pricks of energy leapt up into the tips of his fingers like moths to flame.

Ignore them. It’s deeper, I know it. It has to be!

The Nightblasts were a nuisance and a natural protection mechanism, and he respected them. He also knew how to use them to his advantage and if he wanted to continue being of use to the Unit, their symbiotic union was of the utmost importance.

Triangulating the blasts in terms of severity and frequency, he closed in on his target. Taking a deep pull of the particle-strewn air, he punched into the rock wall and drove his torso in almost up to his right shoulder. That was enough.

Contact. Finally!

“I’ve found the vein! I knew it was here!” Noticing that he had wandered quite a distance from the Unit, he raised his voice to another level and shouted, “I’ve struck! We’ll need to report this one. Feels big!”

Releasing his quarry, he removed his arm from the rock and marked his second strike of the morning. Within minutes, the Lead Pik had shuffled down to his location, narrowly avoiding a precarious tumble over a blind drop.

“I knew there was a reason I brought you along, Altok! This is fantastic news. That’s two today!”, counting in his head he continued, “Sixteen this month! The grey ones told me to wait – they always tell me to wait. No no, I say…”

“You are smarter than they are, Lead Pik.”, Altok interjected.

“What’s that? Oh yes, of course I am! Yes yes! A young man full of promise you are, most assuredly,” replied Tomaks. As Lead Pik of Megdrin’s Discovery Unit, Tomaks prided himself on his superior judgment and his ability to continue to source the city’s most precious commodity, Nightingstone. He also was quite fond of taking much of the praise for the Unit’s success.

A few moments later, Tomaks’ second in command fell into line on the ridge above.

“What ho, Lead Pik? Another strike?”

“Indeed, Hinsiin! Young Altok, my protégé, has struck yet again! Yes yes! I need you to survey and then report this at once to the Council. Make haste!”

“Straight away Lead Pik! Do you wish to review our findings in advance of the…”

“Why do you ask such inane questions, my boy? A false strike Altok does not make! Mark it true. And from my recollection of the matter, young Altok’s premonition of the vein is of significant scope, is that not right my good lad?”

Altok replied, “Well, it certainly felt rather large, but I cannot be…”

“And there it is!”, Tomaks interrupted. “A find of this magnitude is of paramount importance to our dear grey ones. Yes yes.”

“But of course, Lead Pik. My apologies for the oversight.”

“We may be many leagues beneath the surface my young Hinsiin, and alas the darkness may suffocate the spectrum. With you, however, I cannot avoid the shade green which shines like a beacon from your person.”, prodded Tomaks. With that, the stout Tomaks spit violently at the floor, narrowly missing his feet.

“Thank you, Lead Pik.”, Hinsiin replied.

Such incompetence, he thought. How had Tomaks and his Unit of Nightingstone miners survived the City’s scrutiny and been able to deliver on the lifeblood of the energy source? How had this alleged leader ascended through the ranks to such lofty status? And then it hit him like a dwarven pick in the face – leverage.

It was because of him, and others who had come before him, that the Unit had been so successful. He was born with a gift that few of his race still had. And this was the only way he knew how to use it.

This was the only way he’d get out.

….

When his spirit returned to the material plane, he found himself surrounded by them. Never before had he seen so many. Despite their size, each possessed preternatural agility and speed.

Natural born dark predators from beyond.

As he struggled to release from his primal form, their diseased talons swiped furiously through the blanketing rain at his bark like skin. As a warden, the savages soon discovered his innate defense as their strikes were met with bursts of natural power sending them hurtling back into the pack. The unfortunate creatures who connected screamed in agony and rage as they were blanketed in burrowing insects that frantically searched for any orifice to tunnel into.

And they kept coming.

Separating himself from the massacre that was unfolding, he realized the significance of the vision he had received a fortnight prior. With the their arrival, he knew that this was only the beginning.

He also knew that within the hour, he and his wardens would no longer exist to protect anyone from it.