[BoC] The Memory Remains (part 1)

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

Closed to Sage

The Silver Stocks was buzzing with activity.

Now that the man affectionately known as Soap to the Brotherhood’s new command, Shinsou Vaan Osiris and Storm Veritas, had the ruling council off his back for good he could afford to raise the profile of his establishment to something above “just a front”. That meant the right kind of people could now be kept drinking until their bellies were sore from the gas and their eyes weary from intoxication. The fine new furniture was kept polished, a bandstand was always filled with regular entertainment, shiny new brass oil lanterns were kept gleaming and the best Radasanthian ales that a drinker in the Stocks could expect to sample when they strode in from the cold were fully stocked.

Shinsou had also spared no expense to ensure that the wrong kinds of people were kept out of Soap’s pub for good, too. It didn’t attract the attentions of lawmakers, or law-keepers, that weren’t already intensely vetted or on the Brotherhood’s payroll. It was a stark contrast from the old days, before their rule. The inn now served as a Brotherhood safehouse.

Or so they thought.

Oliver Kadar, senator elect for the Brotherhood’s political wing and a firm friend of the Telgradian, was a worried man. Everything had happened too quickly for the politician to make heads or tails of. Following Whitevale’s annexation by Shinsou and Storm, immense pressure had landed on his shoulders to whitewash the deposing of the Brotherhood’s ruling council. It was his job to paint the assault as a way for a more “politically correct” leadership to emerge from the rogue organisation. But the assault on Ducos and his ruling council had created numerous enemies. He had been marked by some dangerous people; at least that was what Soap had said.

“Lay low in here. Don’t go out until I’ve spoken to Shinsou. You’ll be safe here.”

The words were of little consolation. Oliver wasn’t strong like his leaders. He possessed no magic, had little defensive capabilities and only had his wit and sharp tongue to rely on. Radasanth was a fast-moving city with a pace of life unlike that of anywhere else on Althanas, but one thing that was a constant was that his face was in the limelight. Not Shinsou’s, or Storm’s, but his.

But I swore an oath to him. He helped me out when I needed it. Deal with it, Kadar. This is what you do and what you signed up for. Focus on the mission…

The Brotherhood’s face and voice sipped some tea from his cup, nodding his head in time with the happy jig being played by the band in a false sense of responsibility to the atmosphere of the tavern. As he did, a man wearing a fedora slipped through the crowd and sat next to him.

“Business or pleasure?” he asked

“Business” responded Kadar as he recognised the code word, not looking up from his tea. “Keep your eyes straight ahead and talk.”

“Business it is, then.” The man mumbled, watching as the bar staff wandered into the kitchen area. There seemed to be some delicious smells wafting from a number of unattended ovens. None of the waiting staff seemed to be paying any attention. Perfect conditions for what he had planned. “Ducos wants to meet with Shinsou, but only Shinsou. He is afraid Storm will kill him outright for what happened to Sir Augustus.” The man referred back to the frame job that painted the electromancer out to be the murderer of the most important senator in Radasanth. “The professor is keen to confer with a cooler head.”

“Where would such a meeting take place?” reproofed Oliver, remembering his explicit instructions from his friend.

Get me a meeting or even just a location. I’ll take it from there.

The man looked in the teapot, pretending to be interested in the contents. He slid an envelope with a crimson wax seal across the bar. “In there.”

Kadar slapped the lid back on and tucked the sealed letter into his jacket pocket. Pouring the remainder of the tea, he gulped half a cup. Its flavour just wasn’t the same when it was cool; a sudden, overpowering tang of lemongrass whipped his lips and made him recoil. He shot a glance sideways at the man. “Anything else?”

The peak of the fedora drooped for a moment, casting a shadow over the gentleman’s face. Kadar didn’t see the smile as his vision began to blur up a bit.

“Yes. You’re to convey a message to Shinsou Vaan Osiris and Storm Veritas.”

Oliver Kadar clicked his tongue as a pain started to sweep through his gut. Shivers ran up and down his spine before the room suddenly started spinning in a hellish cyclone of watercolours.

“What mess-“

The man’s eyes didn’t waver for a single moment until Kadar was on the floor, fitting wildly and foaming at the mouth. The poison had worked quickly. Understanding the implications of being caught in a Brotherhood safe-house, the enigmatic assailant put his hands down firmly on the table, pushed back and melted into the crowd as they rushed to Kadar’s aid, his grey coat swaying beside him like the wings of a phantom.

You are the message. If you take on Ducos, then you’ll end up a corpse.

[Sage]

Today was a beautiful day outside, so beautiful that it would have been a crime not to go outside and enjoy it for a change. It would have been all too easy for Sage to just curl up somewhere in the library with a good book in hand and waste the hours away. Easily done, but honestly the thought of going outside to feel the sun on his skin and the gentle breeze in his hair was just too good to pass up.

But neither was the book.

Sage passed by the bookcase with practiced ease as he trailed a hand along the spines of the tomes, he had in mind a specific book he wanted to read today, and “Intricate art of Casting” was an old favourite. He smiled gently as he found the book he was seeking, carefully taking it from its place and wiped some of the dust that had accumulated against its leather bound surface.
“It’s been awhile I guess” he spoke softly, brushing more of the dust away with his thumb. It was written by a human wizard called Dito a long time ago, the wizard had apparently spent a lifetime trying to unlock the secrets of magic itself. Unfortunately he never did succeed in finishing his work before he died of old age, but unlike other wizards he had not deigned to take all of his secrets to the grave either.

Most wizards tended to jealously guard there secrets after all … “I think”

Tucking the book into the crook of his arm he made his way towards the patio doors that had been left open by his sisters. Angela, his youngest sister was off in one of the fields he thought, no doubt harassing the workers as they picked the grapes for the next batch of Crossroad wine. His eldest sister Alicia was probably at the winery itself, keeping the business running while their father was away.

He would need to keep his head down. Goodness knows that both of his sisters could be a little overprotective of him at times, but ever since he had gone on that business venture with their father they had really gone all out. It was rather touching actually, to know that his family cared for him that much. Even though he was adopted he had never been made to feel unwelcome or a stranger that they took in out of pity.
Either way the coast was clear, neither of them in sight, and with father away in business that left only his mother to watch out for. Hmm, now to find a little spot he can just sit and relax and jump right on in.

“Sage, Make sure your back before Supper!” his mother’s voice called out from somewhere in the estate. “Yes mother!” he cried back automatically, stopping for just a moment to look back towards the open patio doors.
How did she know, again?
A mystery for another time, he would find out how his mother knew when anyone was entering or leaving the estate. He was convinced it was a magic spell, but one that he had been unable to detect despite his best efforts to become something of a respectable mage. Something a bit more practice and studying wouldn’t fix in due time. But regardless he now had permission, and at the very least he could use it to ward off his sisters.

Sage took off down the steps that lead into the Vineyard fields, the grape vines had all been planted in hundreds of rows on the slope of the hills that surrounded the little Hamlet of crossroads itself. Sage fell into an easy lope through the fields, aimlessly making his way to nowhere as he took a sharp left and continued on.

Without even being winded he eventually reached the far edge of the Vineyard field, arriving at the wall that separated the plantation from the wheat fields beyond. Hopping onto the wall offered a wonderful view of rolling hills and endless wheat fields beyond. Nothing like the Scara Brae docks, there was no grime here, no smells, no crowds, and no danger. Tucked away from the rest of the world, any news they heard was often told by a merchant passing by, or a prospective client with a taste for wine.

Following the weather worn wall, Sage eventually arrived at one of the few winding roads that lead to a beaten track that eventually connected to Radasanth. Sage regarded the path with curiosity. It was not in his nature to venture farther than he often needed, not these days at least. Hesitation briefly took his breath with the thought of venturing any further from this spot, but there had been a time he had also been reluctant to even leave the estate. There had been too much of that already, Sage thought to himself as he knelt down to sit atop the wall. Being scared of every shadow for months thinking that an assailant was going to slip into his room in the middle of the night had gotten ever so tiring.

Sage frowned, it was a bad memory. His actions that day on the docks were made in haste with little thought behind them, but they were in the past and he had plenty of time to reflect upon it.

Oh. Again his mind turned to that sore point from his past. It happened he knew that, but it would be a good day if he could just forget it completely. That day had meant to be his first grand adventure, a trip to Scara Brae with his father on a business venture. He was going to look around and explore, find a few shops and purchase a few interesting trinkets. After all Scara Brae was supposedly once hailed as a hub for new upcoming adventurers.

Was, is?

Maybe he had just been unlucky that day, and got caught up with the wrong people.

He sighed and opened up the book he had brought with him. "Intricate art of Casting chapter 1. a Brief history of Incantations"

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

“Executor Shinsou? Do you understand?”

The question was lost in the hellish cacophony erupting within Brotherhood’s medical wing. Metallic implements clattered as medical staff rushed around Oliver Kadar’s limp form. Instructions were being shouted between doctors. A constant stream of human traffic piled through the Whitevale facility’s double doors to attend to their only patient. Blood, saliva and vomit stained the sheets and a terrible odour cursed the air.

“Do I understand what?” Shinsou asked, prying his golden stare away from his dying friend on the bed and raising his gaze to meet that of his chief consultant Ramius. He hadn’t been listening to a word of what had been said. His head was all over the place. Ramius, a tall fellow with a greying head of hair and a thick Salvarian beard, shook his head.

“I asked if you understand the seriousness of Oliver’s condition.” The attending physician’s expression was grim. “He is suffering from Polonia poisoning.”

“Polonia?” Shinsou queried with his head in his hands. “As in; the Polonia mushroom?”

Ramius nodded. “The very same. The oils secreted by the mushroom are deadly; tasteless, odourless and colourless. It’s a medical professional’s worst nightmare. The toxins are slowly destroying his organs and attacking his bone marrow. When we confirmed the diagnosis we found that someone slipped a large quantity into his tea. I have no doubt that this was an assassination attempt. ”

“How long-“

“If he’s lucky, he has three days at the most” The physician interrupted without reproof from the Telgradian, whose face was a picture of turmoil. Shinsou ran a hand over his sweating brow. The small room was roasting hot. Twenty or so people had shuffled in and out of the room in total; each attending to a specific part of Oliver’s care. Fifteen of those were going to be here for a while. For the medical staff employed by the Brotherhood, that place must have been the heart of chaos. But, at that moment, Shinsou Vaan Osiris’s little marble of reality was deadly silent. The usually rock-solid demeanour of the Brotherhood’s co-leader crumbled as his shoulders sagged. A mixture of sadness and anger flashed through his eyes as he replayed Ramius’s earlier words in his head.

I have no doubt that this was an assassination attempt…

“There is a cure, but not only do we not stock the herb we need,” Ramius said, interrupting Shinsou’s thoughts, “it is also a day’s travel to the only place I know that has it and a day back. I can’t spare the-”

There was a loud crash as Shinsou’s fist slammed into the wooden table next to him. Medical items rattled on its face as Osiris’s visage twisted into a snarl and his eyes lit up. The entire staff jumped out of their skins before eyeing him disdainfully and continuing their frantic work.

“You can’t spare what?! The men?!” Shinsou was shouting now, incensed at his chief consultant. “Then send me! I’ll go!”

“If you’d just let me finish…” Ramius said, trying to reason with the emotional Telgradian, “I was trying to say we can’t spare the time. It is a two day round trip to Crossroads, and though Oliver might have three days, the Cacoa herb will need time to work; at least eight hours. It’s going to be very tight.”

Shinsou shook his head, calming himself. “Slepnir, my horse, will get me there faster than that. I will personally get you this Cacoa and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

The silver-haired physician filled his periphery as he marched past the Telgradian, collecting a book by its red spine as the other doctors and nurses continued to work on Kadar. He pressed it into Osiris’s hands. “There, page seventy. That’s what you are looking for. If you are going, make haste; there is little time to waste.” With that, Ramius turned, buttoned up his white coat and once more began overseeing the care of his patient.

Half an hour later, the Executor of the Brotherhood was atop the mighty Slepnir and pounding out of Whitevale's heavily guarded gates alone. The clouds hung low over over the town, smothering the town in shadow and cooling down a place that had recently been at the centre of many troubles. As with Whitevale, Shinsou too was in darkness. For the second time in as many months another key member of his Brotherhood had been targeted. The first time had been Storm Veritas, the electromancer who had been framed in Radasanth. Along with Osiris, he had become an insurrectionist who had overthrown the original ruling council. This time it had been Oliver Kadar, a good friend, a much more prominent figure in the Brotherhood's hierarchy and someone with a great deal of influence in Corone.

Shinsou's eyes veered to the road ahead. It was slick with moisture, soaked by the rain that would keep it cold for long after the sun went down. The small buildings that comprised the other Coronian settlements flecked the horizon that lay just slightly to the west. That's where he was headed.

As his mighty steed guided him swiftly towards the sleepy village of Crossroads, the Executor prayed that he would return to his friend's bedside in time.

[Sage]

When the rain had swept in a few hours later over crossroads, Sage had made his way back to the estate with the book safely tucked under his tunic. It had been disappointing to see the bright and beautiful sky replaced with grey murky clouds. But at that point the rain was almost a given. So he had taken his lesson back into the comfort and safety of the library. He settled into the reading couch and picked up exactly where he had left off.

“Hi Sage”

Or at least he tried too. Looking up he saw his older sister entering through the patio Umbrella in hand. Alicia looked just like her mother, with long curly locks of blonde hair and a thin straight nose, Alicia possessed the guise of a noble. But she had inherited their father’s tact for business, and was as inclined towards corone politics as much as Sage was. This was to say, none at all.

“Hello Alicia. How was business today?”

“Three new clients, and one possible” She said as she finished shaking off the umbrella from its light drizzle as she turned to face him with a warm smile. “It was a good call to use the Cacoa herbs in the new batch. It’s a bit sweet for my tastes but Mr Dower seemed quite keen on it.”

His sister ruffled his hair as she passed by him and he smiled in response to Alicia’s apparent good mood. The Cacoa herb had been on the Ainsworth Vineyard for a long, long time. It wasn’t even a native plant to corone but rather it had been a holdover from the lands previous owners. Though where they had got hold of such an elusive herb would remain a mystery.

His own mood Brightened despite the gloomy weather pouring down outside, the aspiring mage once more settled into his book. Page by page, lesson by lesson, hour by hour, Sage avidly poured through the pages of the tome. Leafing through the pages one by one until a thought entered his mind about the last passage he had read.

Placing the book to one side, Sage stood up and stepped towards a small open space within the centre of the library.

“Lux” The self-proclaimed mage spoke softly and watched as the simple spell birthed light around him. Sage reached out and willed the soft white glowing sphere to come to a rest in the palm of his hand. It was a simple spell, his own creation he had made after pouring through several tomes of magic theory, one he had created so that he would not have to burn the midnight oil as it were. It was created using a magic system that adhered to a set of rules, it obeyed his will to be sure, but only because he had created it to obey. One of the topics of his reading session had led to an interesting thought.

What was the fundamental difference between a spell cast with pure willpower compared to one that had been pre-prepared with a specific purpose?

The first difference between them was that a spell cast by willpower tended to lose cohesion after a period of time, ceasing to exist when the caster either had no more need of it, or forgot about it completely.

His Light spell was one that was created and programmed with a purpose, Shine a light, obey the caster, and disappear when dispelled. He knew the feel and shape of the spell so well that he no longer had to use any runes for it anymore.

But could he override his own spell using the other method?

“Hmm” he uttered softly. The goal was to alter a spell programmed to take the shape of a sphere, and see if he could affect its shape using his willpower.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained and all that. Small controlled experiments like this were all he could possibly do, due to not owning an actual spell book of his own. Heavens know that would make learning actual magic quite a bit easier than his current approach.

But he didn’t want to accidently destroy anything either, everything in this house looked old, or expensive, but mostly just old. Sage stared at the Ball of light and willed for its shape to change. Nothing happened however and so Sage stared at the ball some more with just as much progress. Closing his eyes he began to try and focus on how his body was reacting to the magic he was trying to control. First he felt out his own connection to the spell he currently held in the palm of his hand. Mapping the way it flowed and danced in his palm and up his arm throughout the rest of his entire body.
It felt like a flowing river, one that flowed through him and circled around him almost lazily. But the connection between him and the spell was absolute, connected in a way that it may as well have been an extension of his own body.
Knowing this he opened his eyes on the sphere of light and tried once more to alter its shape by pure force of will. But yet again, its shape remained unchanged.

Not that it should have been that easy in the first place, Sage had only heard of will based magic, and not one of his books even hinted at how to use it.

Sage assumed it was initially comparable to the way he pre-set his own spell, only that is was able to be changed on the fly using an instinctive understanding of the inner workings of its own spell. Or alternatively, it was like Sage was attempting to control magic with words and writing, while others controlled it akin to flexing an unseen muscle.

Sage cast his sight back to his father’s personal library. Perhaps there was something that went into that subject with a little more detail than his own observations.

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

The night stretched for what felt like a month. Even the twilight hours slipped by until the only way Shinsou was able to account for them was measuring how long it took him to feel hungry or need a piss again. The numbness in his back as a result of ricocheting constantly off the saddle had become a discomforting fact of life, but all of these uncomfortable experiences paled in comparison to the weight of his burden.

He had to keep going.

There’s no time to stop, Shinsou growled to himself as the cramps in his back and bladder tightened their grip on his body, so just keep going, mile by mile.

Details on the horizon twisted and warped until the watery hills rose up to meet the first light of a new day breaking ahead. The sun’s crest crept over their summits and kissed the peaks, revealing a rolling, lush green in every direction. Even the threat of rain clouds in the distance did nothing to choke the charm from the scene.

Unreal. I didn’t know that there were places like this on the island; it's almost as if no-one has touched this place.

Even through the exhaustion of the night’s ride and the urgency of his mission, the Executor knew he would have been remiss to have not appreciated the beauty of this place, even if just for a moment. The world was more often than not a shit-hole, filled with politics gone wild or the blights of war and famine. One only had to look at Lornius or Raiera to see the evidence of this. But here, in this odd place that seemed untouched by the troubles of the world, Shinsou knew under different circumstances he would have enjoyed the rare contrast.

As the sun squinted over the horizon and the weather threatened to turn, Shinsou progressed up a beaten track towards a four-fanned windmill and, beyond that, the town – if you could call it a town – of Crossroads. A simple glance around him made the Telgradian realise it was the kind of environment that would drive him insane in a matter of hours. There were no pickets, even as far out as fifty metres from the town gate. As Slepnir trotted forward, his breath hitting the cold morning air and turning instantly to steam, Shinsou realized that there wasn’t even a town gate. The guards consisted mostly of overweight, overage volunteers whose armour was a little too snug around the midriff. The Telgradian’s expression morphed from surprise to curiosity as their eyes wandered lazily over the vast expanse of nothingness ahead of them.

What the fuck? With all the bandits and raiding parties on Corone, how has this town survived so long without being razed to the ground? Osiris mused as his steed cantered over a small wooden bridge that connected the town proper to a welcoming looking cobblestone square without so much as a challenge from its podgy attendants. Instead, one particularly chubby specimen turned on his heel and walked happily up to the alien.

“Good day, sir!” His accent was thick and rural, unusual for an islander. “Can I take your horse? Is there anything I can do?”

I’m probably the most exciting thing that has happened to this guy in years, Shinsou scoffed, It’s no wonder these people stay so far away from the populated areas. Civilization would chew these up and spit them out in a matter of minutes. Better not cause any trouble though; I want to be in and out. Just focus on the mission.

“Sure.” The reply was polite. “May I ask a question? I’m looking for a particular type of herb; the Cacoa. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?”

The guard, a delightful gentleman named Drillius Rollin, was having a hard time adjusting the steel breastplate to fit his distending gut. After fiddling with the worn leather straps he turned back to the Telgradian, who had pulled a red book out of Slepnir’s knapsack and was vainly attempting to point the man to the page that Ramius had marked for him.

He politely dismissed Shinsou with a wave of his hand and a shake of his head.

“Ho-ho. I’m just a watchman. You’ll want to go and talk to Owen Ainsworth about that kind of thing.” Drillius smiled apologetically. “Sorry!”

“Owen Ainsworth, huh?” Shinsou pulled a pencil out of the spine, scribbling the name on the corner of the page. “Where can I find him?”

Drillius afforded the Telgradian a casual smile. “The Ainsworth family own a vineyard a little north of here. Can’t miss it, friend; it’s the biggest house in the town. The rest of Crossroads is a little flimsy in comparison I’m afraid.”

That doesn’t surprise me. I hope a goblin doesn’t fart and blow over your inn while I’m gone.

“Thank you, sir, you’ve been very helpful. I’ll be back for Slepnir shortly.” The Telgradian feigned courtesy, pressing a gold coin into the man’s palm before turning tail and marching north. Pangs of guilt about his mockery of the guard travelled through his mind as he traversed the square unopposed; after all, it wasn’t his fault that the pace of life here was so slow.

I guess it’s easy for me to get on my high horse about the rat race when simply crossing the street in the wrong part of Whitevale could get me killed. That said, I couldn’t see me enjoying a life of watching grass, either. Anyway, I’m here for the Cacoa herb. Let’s get it and get out.

As the rain finally made good on its earlier threat, Shinsou’s steps were steady upon the stone stairwell that carved a path up to the Ainsworth estate. The sound of his boots beating the concrete sounded more like the deafening recoil of hammers on masonry than simple footsteps such was the quiet of the place. Slow and monotonous was the hill climb, broken only by the occasional snort and bleat of goats in the fields either side of him, as he tried to ignore the growling of his stomach or the parched dryness of his throat. The stairs never stopped and the scenery never changed.

If Shinsou had bothered to look around, he might've spotted the black-and-brown spotted mushrooms lining the base of the stone walls parallel to the path. As the raindrops struck them, murky brown streaks ran from their stems in rivulets. Instead, as he finally reached the crest of the hill, the Telgradian had his vision completely blotted by what he assumed was the Ainsworth estate.

A giant house, something more suited to the farms outside of Radasanth, towered over an endless field of green whips. All of it was silent, but for the pattering of the rain. As Shinsou straightened his coat and had an intake and release of breath, he approached the great wooden door at the front.

He knocked. Moments later, the door creaked open. Shinsou looked up.

“My name is Shinsou Vaan Osiris. Can I speak with Owen Ainsworth, please?”

[Sage]

Magic as it turned out, would continue to be an elusive challenge. Not one book in his father’s library gave any hint of the sort of knowledge he had been seeking and he found that prospect rather, disappointing actually. For as long as he could recall, these books had seemed like an endless supply of fact and fiction. Up until that one day when he had been eager to get some new reading material and venture out with his father too …

He sighed at his thoughts returning to that day once again.

Regardless he had been seeking something new that day, specifically one that had more information on magic than the scraps he currently had. Suffice to say he did not get what he wanted.
Sage scratched at an itch on his cheek as he devoured the last few lines of his current fixation. A history book, it recounted the tale of a now extinct race that had struggled to find its place in the world. One of the last remaining survivors had been a prince, one whose origin was clearly unknown to whoever wrote the book, but the prince had certainly been a big fan of the Citadel a long time ago. His name was Can-

A staccato of heavy knocks echoed down the hall, breaking Sage away from the ancient tale. ‘Someone at the door, at this time of the night-’

No, wait…

He looked up to see the light of the morning sun shine gently into the library through the closed window. “Not again” He grumbled quietly, feeling his cheeks flush in embarrassment.
His Sisters had teased him often enough that when something took his interest he could forget even the time of day. And yet despite his claims to the contrary, one look at the multiple piles of books by the side of the reading couch was proof of his apparent guilt.

It would also mean he had missed supper.

Sage placed the book he was holding to one side as he stood up and stretched out to work out the kinks of staying in one place for far too long. Brushing his waist length hair back over his shoulder Sage wondered into the foyer making his way to the front door to see who would be knocking so early in the morning.

Sage found none of his expectations as he opened the door to reveal a man who Sage quickly noticed was in possession of a weapon. That fact alone made Sage pause for a brief moment, so that he could gather his wits until he could turn his gaze away from it. He was a handsome looking man, though weather worn and tired he seemed to easily carry himself confidently with his presence alone. And what a presence it was, Sage quickly noticed how much the man would have stood out of the calm little hamlet so much that he may as well have been a corporal manifestation of a tempest.

That and with his attention next being drawn to the man’s Gold coloured eyes, he nearly missed the man introduce himself as Shinsou Vaan Osiris and that he was looking for Sage’s father.

For what in the heavens could he possibly want with his father?

Sage hesitated for only a second longer as he finally found enough of his wit to give the man an answer.“Ah, my father is away on business at the moment Mr Osiris” He said softly and as formally as he could, hopefully the man was not one of those prone to shooting the bearer of bad news. “Pray, is there anything I can help you with?”

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

Kai! Get up, Kai!

Huh? What’s up?

The White Lions have fallen. Gideon is on his way there now. You have to go, too, before it’s too late.

What? Who could have-

It can only be him. Executor ISOS himself. I’d heard rumours, but…

So it’s true?

Yeah. The Castigars are real. He’s real.

It sends chills up my spine, it does. How did they get an army so big, so soon? It’s almost as if they’ve been hiding out, waiting for us. This is bad. We have to do something…

The sounds of unfamiliar voices rang in his ears. They accompanied a vision of two men he didn’t recognise conversing and by the expressions on their faces, they were worried. A broadsword embedded in the ground, ten paces away, glinted in the candlelight of some sort of old, musty fortress room. The shorter man turned, his silver hair shimmering and his narrow, crimson eyes catching the light momentarily. As he did, the second man stepped forward, his entire form smothered in black garbs. Long, jet black hair flowed over his shoulders and a pair of emerald green eyes shone through the shadows. Like a liquid memory, the scene started to ripple with uncertainty. Was this a memory or even a vision of the future?

“Is there anything I can help you with?”

The voice cut through Shinsou, returning him to reality with a jerk. The Telgradian squinted through the doorway at the young man in front of him.

“I’m looking for-” Osiris trailed off as he took a long look at the boy still standing patiently in the doorway. There was something about this one. Shinsou had been able to sense souls for a long time and many types had crossed his path. Vengeful, heroic, evil and noble; the Telgradian had felt them all. This boy’s, though, was different. It was cold, calm, still, somehow out of place and yet completely at peace.

“Looking for?” The boy shrugged.

“Sorry,” Shinsou waved apologetically, “I’m looking for a Cacoa herb.” The Telgradian paused, rubbing his head with the back of his hand. “I was told Owen might have some? It’s a medical emergency. A friend of mine is suffering from Polonia mushroom poisoning,” the Telgradian replied at length. “He doesn’t have much time. Please, can you help point me in the right direction?”

Before the young man could reply, Shinsou’s vision once again suddenly blurred. The entire Ainsworth residence melted into a watercolour swirl before vanishing entirely. As Osiris flailed, the immediate disappearance of the terrain below him throwing him off balance, he looked up in time to see a new scene unfold before him. The sound of a foot scraping against the bark of a tree trunk accompanied a voice; the same voice as the Telgradian heard before. Settled into a squat alongside the black clad man was that silver haired warrior again. Dirt and blood marked his cheeks and tiredness crept into his expression.

We barely held them off. I don’t think we can do it again without help from the others.

I know, the black-clad man replied, a small frown playing about his lips. If we do not stop the Castigars here, we will fall. They are too well organised; too massive in scale.

The silver haired one nodded, wiping his brow. One day to hold them, one day to beat them. All we need to do is unite the clans and pray.

As the next vision faded to black, Shinsou seemed lost in thought once more, a confused gaze lingering upon the young boy at the door. It was then Osiris finally snapped back to reality, the horror of his odd behaviour striking him at last. Showcasing some sort of strange mental illness to a complete stranger at his own doorway didn’t seem the best approach for gleaning information on life saving medication.

“I do apologise,” Shinsou murmured, self-effacing and modest. “I’ve been suffering from terrible headaches.”

[Sage]

Shinsou Vaan Osiris was a source of concern. Within seconds the man appeared distracted and anxious. Though Sage could hardly fault the man for that, Polonia poisoning was certainly something that anyone would be concerned about, especially for his friend. But that there was the reason for Sage’s concern, Polonia mushrooms alone were often fatal enough alone, but like most other poisonous flora and fauna it had rather bright distinctive colours to ward away any potential predators.

“No one would just eat one” He reasoned with himself and let his gaze fall to the man’s weapon. Expensive looking, with the air of an enchantment if he guessed correctly. And yet the sword wasn’t overly ornamental, designed for function over form, it was not a blade just for show, it was obviously meant to be used.
And men, who live by the sword, often die by the sword.

This was a man who had enemies, but how would Polonia poisoning come into it. “Well plenty of stories love killing off an important political figure with poisons similar to Polonia, so an assassination attempt maybe?” But that would mean that whoever this man and his friend had made their enemy had enough connections and resources to get a hold of such a deadly poison.

“Lovely. And he came here looking for a Cocoa Herb?” While the Herb itself certainly had medicinal properties that benefited a person over a long period of time, short term the herb merely served as a good source of energy and a wonderful flavour additive. Nothing he had read had even suggested that the herb could be used to ward off a potent poison like Polonia.

“No need to apologise, I can’t even imagine how stressful your situation must be” Sage said sincerely, and truly he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to put himself into a position like that, but should either of his sisters ever succumb to such a fate then he …

Well …

Then he would certainly find out how far he would be willing to go.

“But I’m afraid I’m not certain how the Cacoa herb may help you” He began, uncertain if he should even voice his concern of the herbs usefulness. Honestly Sage found the whole idea strange, he rolled the idea over in his head, trying to find an angle for why anyone would have even told him to go find a Cacoa herb. Had they merely been misinformed, or maybe he just wasn’t aware of some kind of hidden property that the herb possessed. He had no idea, about the only thing that had been accomplished was that they had managed to send Shinsou Vaan Osiris on a wild goose chase. Well either that or he had been manoeuvred into a Tra-

Sage’s breath caught in his throat while his eyes widened at the horrible thought.

“S-surely not” he whispered to himself, as he brought a hand up to his chin, looking away from the man altogether. No, he didn’t have enough information to make a wild jump in logic like that. He idly gripped the collar of his tunic, if only just to grab onto something. A wild jump in logic it may have been, but several of his favourite works of fiction had a similar setup, and while he knew better than to mistake fiction from real life, he felt that he was much better off in assuming the worst.

Sage took a single step around the man, peering down the road to see if he could spot anything out of the ordinary, a person he didn’t recognise, an item that did not belong, anything and everything was scrutinised and considered very carefully. “Nothing out of place”
He held his breath a moment longer as he weighed his next course of action, honestly he almost felt like he was fretting over nothing now, but he could just not shake the feeling crawling down his back that something about this was very wrong. “Other than an armed man knocking on my door looking for an antidote I don’t think actually exists?” He possibly couldn’t imagine why, he thought sarcastically.

He turned his attention back to Shinsou, right or wrong he did not know the whole story to declare that the man had quite possibly walked into a trap. The only one who could do that was Shinsou himself. “Please, come inside” he said stepping back into the Foyer to allow the man entrance “I’ll take you to the Herb Immediately” he said with an undertone of urgency himself. But better that he take this next part away from any possible prying ears. As soon as he could he closed the door behind him and turned to the man, unable to hide his concern any longer.

“I’m sorry to ask this of you, but to me it sounds very unusual that you would be sent after a Cacoa herb. While the Herb does have medicinal properties, I am at a loss for how it could even be used in a case of Polonia Poisoning.” The boy explained whilst tightening the grip on his own collar “I fear you may have been lead on a wild goose chase at best, while at worst …”

“…Do you believe that there is a possibility that you may have been lead into a trap?”

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

The sky over Crossroads was turning dark, with cumbersome rain clouds that had rolled over the township threatening to deposit even heavier payloads over its meagre population. As dark as the world above was, though, the mood below was comparatively as black as an abyss.

Shinsou could feel a chill in the air, but this time not as a result of the terrible weather; instead he felt the well-meant words of his young counterpart churning up the air. The Telgradian shook his head dismissively as he listened to the boy in front of him reach a conclusion and suggest the only outcome that made sense given the evidence. It was outcome that he didn’t want to hear. A single pale hand rested on his neck in habit alone; the anxiety of time and pressure compelling Shinsou to scratch.

A trap? No fucking way. Ramius is my most trusted physician. But what reason would this boy have for lying to me? Perhaps Ramius just has a better understanding of the herb?

Scenarios started to ping around Shinsou’s head like the remnants of a split atom. On one hand, the greatest medical mind on the island had given Shinsou, a complete medical novice, a prescription to fill. This man, Ramius, was a double doctorate of Radasanth’s great university of medical practitioners. He was also a member of the Brotherhood before Shinsou’s insurrection and because of this he had evaded the normal re-vetting procedures afforded to everyone pledging their loyalties to the new administration. Could he have been a Ducos sympathiser acting as a double agent?

On the other hand, the Telgradian was face to face with a member of Owen Ainsworth’s household. He didn’t know much about the Ainsworths, or their connection to the herb, but from the vineyard outside and the relative scale of it to Crossroads itself Shinsou could come to the safe conclusion that this family were the botanists of the town. Even so, would that make them medical professionals? Osiris doubted it, but the sincere worry in the boy’s words and the apparent surety of his concern was something that couldn’t be falsified. The kid knew something.

Either the child was wrong, and Shinsou was wasting precious time debating the matter, or Ramius was a traitor. Either scenario churned his stomach because in either case, Kadar was still dying. Then, he realised the consequences of the latter. If Ramius had betrayed him, the physician knew where he was going. He knew exactly how much time he had until Shinsou returned, too.

Osiris had to be sure, one way or the other.

“I’m sorry about this, kid, but if what you are suggesting is true,” A frown crawled across the tall man’s face as he broke off mid sentence. To ask someone he barely knew for his credentials was embarrassing at best, especially as the boy had helped him as much as he could so far, “Look, I’m going to need to know exactly what it is you do here, and why I should trust you over my physician. It’s nothing personal but a lot is hanging in the balance here. How sure can you be that the Cacoa herb doesn’t have some sort of hidden property?”

The boy had given him nothing but humility from the moment Shinsou had arrived on his doorstep, so the doubt that poured from his lips burned. Then, a thought hit him. Perhaps there was a way to prove the theory. Like a mountaineer negotiating a tricky outcrop, Shinsou sized up the boy in front of him, worked out what he was going to say, composed himself and asked the question, hoping not to insult the kid’s intelligence.

After all, if the child was wrong, he would still need his help to procure the herb. If he wasn't wrong, then Shinsou might as well come back to Whitevale with a bottle of wine and a pair of bodybags; one for him, and one for Kadar.

Best not to piss him off.

“If the Cacoa truly is a cure, and this place grows it, surely it would make sense for there to be Polonia mushrooms nearby,” Shinsou reasoned, “Else how else did the effects get discovered? If that’s the case, we can test it, right?”

[Sage]

The man appeared doubtful to the possibility that he may have been manoeuvred into a trap, which was completely understandable when the notion had come from an unknown child. Even more understandable considering that it was apparently a trained and trusted physicist who had pointed him towards Crossroads with knowledge of the elusive Cacoa herb. It should have been the end of it, and Sage should have flush with embarrassment over such an outlandish claim that he would not be able to get the herb into Shinsou’s wanting hands fast enough.

Instead Sage paused as he regarded just what Shinsou had said and how it seemed to just seem wrong to the boy “But the Cacoa herb isn’t native to the island, so how could…” He mumbled out loud to himself. Sure the Herb had been on the vineyard estate for a very long time, but surely someone would have at mentioned that it had also been proven effective against a very powerful poison that could effectively shut down a person’s body.

No, Sage was not convinced that this was anything but a trap now, and he once again he turned his thoughts to the poison that had been used on the man’s friend. “I know it sounds strange” Sage admitted while looking Shinsou in the eye and bit down on the nail of his thumb as he regarded the stern tired expression on the man. “…But were it any other poison”

“Polonia for all of its potency has one critical flaw. The amount of time for it to effectively kill a person is usually long enough for anyone to obtain a cure” he said with a sweeping hand gesture. “Which is why I doubt the original intent was to kill your friend. If they wanted him dead then why did they use a poison that takes days to kill, why not just use a different poison that can kill a person outright?”
But why Crossroads, why send the man to locate the Cacoa herb?

Sage pondered more on the thought, hypothetically placing himself into the role of an assassin and wondering how he could use a place like Crossroads in a trap for a man that looked like he certainly knew how to hold his own in a fight. The hamlet was certainly a Quiet place, far out of the way for the normal discord that would sometimes plague corone. There were no civil wars here, no political manoeuvring, just a small token guard to acknowledge that the place even existed.

It certainly seemed like a good place to assassinate a high profile target.

But what would be the method of the trap, “the Polonia poison again?” if so then sending a victim into a vineyard kind of made a weird sort of sense, the mushrooms toxin was certainly more effective when it was ingested. If not for the fact that the man was pressed for time he would certainly be inclined to try a sample, or if not that then tempted to knock one back to alleviate the pressure that must be weighing on his shoulders.

Sage frowned at the thought, “that would take an awful lot of guess work as well as a complete understanding the victims mind-set to ensure that would come to pass” Not only that but an assassin would have had to poison the entire stock just to ensure that the Victim even remotely have the chance of drinking the poison.

“The water then, the customers always drink water to cleanse their pallets …”He said shortly before the realisation hit him like a lead weight as he fully considered the merits of his own implication “…oh no”

“Mom, Alicia, Angela. Don’t drink anything!” Sage screamed out into the household followed by his hair whipping behind him as he span on his heel towards the stairs as fast as he could. “Don’t drink anything!” He repeated as he flew to the top of the stairs and sprinted down the hallway, almost colliding with his mother who was stepping out of her room to see what the sudden commotion was.

“Sage, what’s wrong, you-?” she said with an alarmed expression as her son blurred to her side.

“Mom, don’t drink anything, please I don’t think … I don’t think it’s safe!”

“What? Sage I don’t understand-”

“Just promise me” He said quickly as he rushed past his mother in pursuit of his sisters. “Alicia! Angela!”

What he found as he barged into Angela’s room was enough to chill him to his core as he saw his little sister lay prone on the floor unmoving. Sage was by her side as fast as he could and gently shaking her shoulder to see if she would respond. Nothing, about the only thing Sage could be certain of at this point was that his sister was at least breathing, but even that came in shallow breaths. “Is this Polonia poisoning?”

“Angela, can you hear me? Say something!” Sage swallowed heavily as his mother stepped into the room and immediately rushed to her daughter’s side. Sage felt his gut twist once more into knots as he numbly retreated back, horrified at his sisters pale almost lifeless form.

“Not happening, this is not happening!” he repeated like a mantra, until his eyes wondered over to the spilt glass of water that lay shattered on the floor.