Hunting Haidians

[Jake Narmolanya]

I waited until I felt certain the store was empty before entering and approaching the red haired man. Before I could open my mouth he answered my first question, which would have been are you Nevin, the proprietor of this shop? The nifty trick he used to clean my jacket seemed to prove that.

“Sorry about the mess,” I said in case he was a stickler for manners. “I’m Jake Narmolanya.” I straightened my eyepatch and flicked blond locks away from my good eye. “The blood came from a powerful Haidian I’m hunting. I need you to turn it into a potion that will help me defend myself against his powers. Specifically, his telepathic powers. You can keep any leftover blood, and of course,” I pulled a small but weighty sack from my pocket and tossed it on the counter with an audible thud. “As much gold as it takes.”

The alchemist raised an eyebrow at the bag of gold, but he seemed much more interested in the brick of ichor. He levitated it up to eye level and examined it carefully.

“Blood from a Haidian? It’s been some time since I worked with that. And never with such a… powerful sample. This may be beyond my means… besides, there are those who frown on the hunting of Haidians. Other Haidians chief among them…”

“This one is a wanted criminal across Althanas,” I interjected, “there’s a ten thousand gold piece bounty on his head. But I’m not looking to collect it. This green-blooded bastard killed my friends.”

Nevin seemed to consider me for a long while, and then he simply nodded.

“This may take some time,” he said, “feel free to browse the shop while I work.” With that he walked to the back room, lump of green blood floating at his side.

I moved through the aisles and looked at the wares but I didn’t really see anything. In my mind the memory of Selima’s face just before she died played over and over. Her last words haunted me - with her dying breath she had asked me to seek vengeance. The desire to carry out her request burned like a sword pulled fresh from the forge.

“Here you are,” Nevin said, coming out of the back room. How long had it been? An hour? Longer? He carried a small vial containing a dark green substance. My blood potion. I accepted the glass vessel, my emerald eye gazing deep into its contents.

“Will this make me immune to the demon’s telepathy?” I asked.

“The exact effects are uncertain, with ichor of this potential.” Nevin replied. “But, it should at the very least increase your ability to resist this particular Haidian’s powers.” I quirked an eyebrow in surprise when the alchemist took only a few coins from the bag I’d dropped on the counter, and returned the rest to me. “Just a little something for my time,” he added, “the leftover blood seems a fair payment.”

I thanked the crimson-haired man and exited the shop to the sound of chimes, an image of the Haidian mountaintop where Selima’s body still lay forming sharply in my mind.