[BoC] The Memory Remains (part 1)

Out of Character:

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.

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"

“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.

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.

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?”

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?”

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.”

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?”

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?”

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.

The hope of being able to save Oliver Kadar at the end of this impromptu journey had become a sprouted seed within Shinsou, but this new, terrible situation was utterly deflating. The entirety of everything the boy had said was frustrating and completely logically sound. Now, with a nightmare scenario encapsulating not only the two of them but the kid’s sister, the question that continued to ring in his ear was why. This no longer concerned Shinsou’s involvement with the Brotherhood. Someone had been very patient, very skilled, very opportunistic and very callous to undertake an attempt at a mass poisoning like this; one that, if done correctly, could probably have finished off Crossroad’s minimal population.

Ramius has set me up, the shit, Shinsou convinced himself, and now I have this poor kid’s sister on my conscience as a result. How many more will get caught up in this before its done?

He stood silently as the boy and his family frantically tried to revive the girl. Angela, as she was called, was breathing; but barely. Rubbing his chin as his eyes glared down at her form, Shinsou was struggling to accept what had transpired but then something caught his eye. It was something he had seen before, a day earlier, in the corner of the girl’s lips.

Foam.

Polonia poisoning? It seemed plausible, given all of the other symptoms that Oliver Kadar had been displaying in the Brotherhood’s medical wing twenty four hours prior. As the Telgradian knelt, jerking her head to one side, he inspected the lips and throat for similarities to his Brotherhood agent.

“This is what happened to Kadar,” Shinsou explained, dabbing at the brownish froth bubbling from the corner of Angela’s mouth. “It has all the hallmarks of Polonia, alright. The one thing we have going for us here is time – we’ve caught it early. I’m not a medical expert but my friend started suffering organ failure two days after ingestion.”

It was strange. Shinsou’s immediate focus was on the situation of a girl he did not know, in a town he would struggle to find on a map most of the time whilst on a mission to save a friend from death. Kadar’s odds for survival, given both the length of this scenario already and the fact he was likely being cared for by the very man who had orchestrated his assassination, were lengthening beyond reason. Shinsou thought upon this as he waited for someone, anyone, to say something. It was one of his fifty thousand problems, or so it seemed. Whichever way to tried to reason, Osiris had come to the glaringly obvious conclusion with a heavy heart.

Oliver is going to die, if he isn’t dead already, and there is nothing I can do to stop it because I’m all the bastard way out here.

A moment of sadness overtook the Telgradian. Kadar was a friend. There was no doubt that he was a loyal member of the Brotherhood but firstly and fore mostly he had always been there for Shinsou personally. It made his gut wrench to think of the man dying alone and in pain amongst the very people who had put this treachery into action. But, even as a small tear welled up in the corner of his eye, Osiris knew what Oliver would say to him, were he here now.

Yeah. “This is what I signed up for”. That’s what you’d say, right? That this is the risk we take every day. Shinsou lamented, looking down once more at the terrified expressions of the boy as he looked for answers. You’d tell me to take care of this girl first. She had nothing to do with all this baggage that followed me from Whitevale.

Everything around the Telgradian seemed to be moving in slow motion. As people scrambled for what meagre medical equipment they had, and hoisted Angela onto the bed, Osiris stood there in a trance. He hated the fact he had been so blind to all of this; that as a consequence of a lack of his own understanding, he would lose a friend and soon be solely responsible for the death of this poor girl and possibly countless others who may have drunk the water. That it had taken a child to point this out to him; at this very moment, a very distraught one at that, was beyond humbling.

As Shinsou had gathered himself, a moment of acceptance arrived. He knew Kadar was dead. When he got back to Whitevale, the Telgradian would have every bastard up against the wall until he found the people responsible. Ramius would be first to feel his wrath and Shinsou would make sure that Oliver Kadar would be avenged in the most creative of ways. But, for now, compassion, intuition and haste were required in equally large amounts for those outside of that murky life and for those who just wished to live in peace.

”Do you have any idea what could cure this?” Shinsou, now placing his faith in the pale boy, asked. “We have two days to find an antidote, and whilst I don’t know the first thing about herbs, I have a fast mount and a strong arm. I’ll do what I can to help your sister. Also…”

Shinsou felt his blood race and his heartbeat quickening as the vision of Kadar’s wasting body came back to him.

"I'm sorry that I brought trouble into your household. I promise you I’ll find the people responsible for this.”

Sage stumbled backwards as the world seemed to fade around him. He had stepped into a nightmare, plain and simple, yet his gaze was glued to the motionless form of his sister. He could only continue to stare as his elder sister came in only a few moments later and began barking orders to the workers that had followed the commotion.

“This is not real, is it?” his thoughts sounded hollow, but he could just not rationally accept just what he was seeing. His throat swelled as his stomach lurched into his throat, as his body tried to reconcile what he was witnessing to provoke some kind of reaction.

But the more Sage continued to watch in disbelief the more he began to feel that immeasurable pressure that was now starting to bare down on his shoulders. And he almost faltered under its colossal weight. But instead of giving in he was instead drawn to the other heavy presence he could feel in the room.

Shinsou Vaan Osiris.

Sage grimaced as he studied the warrior, the man was in the same position he was, if not caught up even more into the twisted spider web of lies and deceit. He seemed calm, but beneath the surface Sage could almost feel the concern for his family as well as the sheer burning rage that dwelt at his core.

“…a cure?” Sage quietly repeated what the man had said, his mind desperate to grasp hold of any sort of rational thought. A cure … was possible. The boy blinked as the world slowly came back into focus, there was still a chance he quickly realised. The book where he had first learned of the mushroom would have had to have been one of his father’s personal collections.

“It's possible, please follow me!” he said to the man as he willed his body into motion, passing by his mother as he spared one last glance at his catatonic sibling. His brows knitted together at sheer wrongness at the sight, and it took all of his frayed wit to even step beyond the door frame and back into the hall. Sage spared the man a glance to see if he was following before leading the exhausted warrior down the stairs and into his fathers’ personal library. As he entered Sage took fleetingly noticed at the pile of books he had just been reading only a few moments before, “How did this day change so fast?”

“…I- I apologise. But I don’t know how much help I can possibly be” he said thoughtfully after a moment’s hesitation. The young boy paused to lick his dry lips and began to consider a question that Shinsou had asked him before “You asked me before, what was I do here…”

He shook of the hesitation and bushed one of his locks of hair behind his ear as he stepped over to one of the shelves and began to peruse the titles along the spines of the books one by one. Sage only allowed himself to pause just long enough to pluck one of the books from out of its normal resting place so that he could hastily scour its contents. “… not this one”

Sage also came to the realisation that he had yet to introduce himself and turned to the swordsman with a look of concern “My name is Sage Ainsworth, and I am the adopted son of Owen Ainsworth and I … Read” He felt his cheeks flush with the lacklustre admission. “But I … I’ve read about the Polonia mushroom once before. But I don’t recall which book it was that referenced them.”

Great, Shinsou thought dryly as Sage began pondering over the extensive book case, so he's read about the mushroom in a book but hasn't got a clue which one? Needle in a thousand haystacks...

The Telgradian felt guilty for the reproof; after all, Sage was under an immense amount of pressure and he was just a boy, but just a glimpse at the sheer volume of tomes revealed the ridiculous scale of the task ahead of them. As Sage began running his fingers down the spines of selected books, Shinsou began to pace.

There must be something we can do to hurry this up. The herb isn't native, but what about the mushroom?

"Hey, Sage." Osiris began, tapping his charge on the shoulder. "You said the Cacao herb doesn't grow locally, but what about the Polonia mushroom? If we can find a sample, it might be quicker you testing it than wasting hours pouring through a million books. Time, sadly, is not a luxury we have in abundance."

He gazed upon the child and hoped for a positive response. It was a long shot to start with; even if it was native to Crossroads, there would be other complications. Could they pick it safely? Would Sage know what to test for and how? Would the boy have the right equipment? All these issues were glaring. Shinsou shook his head, lecturing himself internally.

One problem at a time, Shin. Solve one problem, then the next. Then keep solving problems until somebody gets cured.

The boy searched book by book, tome after tome and page after page. With only a rough inkling of where the correct tome could possibly be the boy opted to make a note to re-organise the library as soon as it was appropriate. It had been too long since his father’s library had any sort of defined order to it. His father had certainly read every book once before as had Sage, but while his father had taken the knowledge and honed it with a life time of experience. The boy had not.

So engrossed into his own task he forgot for a moment that Shinsou was also in the room, pacing away impatiently. The man was on a tighter time limit than himself he realised. Standing around and waiting for a boy to pour through a library’s worth of content for a single page must have been driving him up the wall. But Sage was closing in on the desired book, he could feel it.

But Shinsou’s patience had reached an all-time low, and was keen to grasp any solution he could think off, patting the boy on the shoulder with what he thought could be a hopeful solution. “I …” Sage hesitated in his response as his mind began to parse the suggestion. “Yes, the Polonia Mushroom is a part of the local flora. But...”

“But testing it?” Again Shinsou had suggested that they should ‘Test’ it once more. Sage however immediately dismissed the notion all together. Test it, on what? Was Shinsou assuming that Sage had some alchemical skill? Even still Sage would have been hesitant to even approach a mushroom he knew to be poisonous without knowing how to properly handle it.

Sage shook his head as he spun to face the warrior. “It isn’t that simple, what if we get it wrong, what if all we manage to accomplish is wasting whatever sample we find” No, his sisters life was in question here, he could not afford to be careless and neither could Shinsou. He just hoped that the man would understand.

“I would honestly not know where to begin. My father would be more suited for the task, but as I said he is away on business in Scara Brae” He said running his hand down the length of his hair nervously. Of all days for his father to be away, now was when his family needed him the most. No, Sage would have to try. Even with his partial knowledge on the subject, he was more than confident that if the book had the cure, then he could certainly follow the instructions on how to make it. “Finding the antidote will only be a matter of time.” But exactly how much time he was unwilling to even think about.

“The book I am searching for had details about the mushroom. I can remember bits and pieces, but I recall that it had details on how to properly care for the mushroom as well as how to utilise each individual part” Even as he said that he could almost visualise the page, the carefully hand drawn picture with life like detail, the paragraphs that made up the page as well as the diagram that followed on the next page. It was there inside his mind, but just out of focus with missing details that he considered to important to just outright dismiss.

He was so close to either remembering the page in full detail or locating the book he was seeking. “If there is a cure then it will certainly mention it”

“If not …” the boy hesitated, staring at the polished oak of the table that was next to the reading chair he had spent the night in. The outcome should they be unable to find the cure was an unpleasant thought, one he knew he had no time to dwell on. Finding the book was only the first stage however, even after reaffirming his suspicions about a possible cure there was still the second stage to consider … “Even if I find that book we would still need to track down a cure …”

He continued to stare at the table, letting his gaze wonder to the pile of books he had just been reading during the night. He sighed as he felt pressure building in the forefront of his mind. A headache would be the least of his worries right now. The boy tiredly rubbed at his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in silent contemplation as he considered the table in front of him and the contents that sat upon its surface. Namely, he was drawn towards the half empty glass of water that was carelessly minding its own business “Has that been there all night?”

His face immediately took on a confused countenance as he stared at the inconspicuous glass of water. His mind slowly coming to an odd observation and with it, an odd thought “Just when was the water supply poisoned?”

“Ah … Mister Osiris, I just had a thought …” he said turning to the Swordsman, hoping that his polite inquiry would snap the man from his brooding.

“Do you see the glass of water on the table?” he said with a nod of his head in the direction of the glass and turned back towards the glass with a questioning look. “If someone were to try and assassinate you, then it would stand to reason that poisoning the water supply would be a logical choice” He said bringing the subject to light in an inquisitive manner.

“But when do you suppose that was?”

The boy approached the table with carefully measured steps, biting into the nail of his thumb as he did so and never letting the glass out of his sight. “That glass has been there all night… and I don’t think anyone else in town has been poisoned yet…” surely there would have been more of a commotion outside if there was, but so far only his sister had been-... The boy carefully considered his next line of thought “surely that would mean that the water was poisoned just recently, right?” he said turning to face his exasperated ally. “Or you would have been on guard if when you arrived everyone were to be paralysed.”

“It is possible that the assassin may still be close by. And … ah, wouldn’t an assassin carry an antidote for their own poisons?” It was possible, he quickly reasoned. Suppose the assassin found themselves in a situation where there was a mistake, some unforeseen situation that called for the assassin to cure the target, or even themselves should the situation arise. “Even one as fast acting as Polonia, there would still be time to administer an antidote if you were fast enough…”

We need to move fast, was the first thing Shinsou thought upon Sage Ainsworth arriving at his well thought out conclusion. The Telgradian knew the boy was absolutely right; the assassin responsible for this outrage would likely hold the antidote. It made sense. As for being able to find him or her? Crossroads was a small, almost irrelevant corner of the island that was tucked away and quiet. The people were different from the city's norm; they weren't variations of what passed for Corone citizens. Almost none of them had the dialect, the tanned skin, the browns or blonds or the eyes of the more urban folk.

Shinsou knew that he wouldn’t be able to sense the man or woman responsible for this, for he would have done so already, but with Sage by his side it was likely entirely possible to identify someone out of the ordinary in a town like this. The people here were clearly a small, tightly knit community; it stood to reason that a resident would be able to spot something out of the ordinary fairly easily.

If the bastard is still even in town…

Explaining the plan and ushering Sage out of the door without a moment’s delay, Shinsou set to work. Time was of the essence and every second wasted further endangered the Ainsworth girl. He noted, as they carried themselves back down the long staircase, that Crossroads was so far removed from what he was used to that something felt almost artificial about the place. The only thing that really marked the town was the town. Every time the Telgradian tried to take the place in, he felt distracted; unable to process small details. It was almost as if something was forcing him to lose his focus.

He pondered whether to mention anything to Sage at all, but decided against it as they entered the market place.

Small shops lined the square, along with the occasional vending stands that somehow managed to stay in business despite the low turnout. Most of the buildings were wood with brick and clay walls. One of them, in particular, sported the services of an alchemist.

Worth knowing in case we have to start clutching at straws for a cure. Shinsou noted, wondering if such a place would have the necessary skills to remedy such a harsh ailment.

The alchemist’s shop aside, there was a strange uniformity to the town. It was as if the glue binding these people together were unity in segregation; away from the busy cities and ports. But it wasn’t just that, either. That nagging, distracting hum buzzed about his head, forcing Shinsou to flit between thoughts and not really drink in any of the important details about the place.

The further along he went, the more Shinsou noticed something strange. It wasn't that he couldn’t keep his mind from becoming disorientated, but more that Crossroads was a lot bigger than it looked from the outside.

This place wasn’t that big from the outside. It was like a dot before….

Once again, although a little suspicious, Osiris buried the doubt and looked upon the building that stood before them.

There was a tavern at the heart of the township. Its banner was writ large in flowing crimson spirals up and down the height of the flagpole. A chimney smoked a faint grey towards its zenith, and Shinsou could swear the clouds were distorted after a certain altitude.

"In my experience," Osiris said, turning to Sage before carefully adjusting his silver sash around his waist, “Taverns are usually the citizen’s bureau of a town. Safe money would be on someone in there having seen something out of the ordinary.”

“Spread out and warn as many people as you can find” Alicia said to the small group of workers she had assembled by the front gate. The men looked worried, but were eager to get moving after what the blonde haired woman had just told them and spread out from the vineyards front gate.

“Sage” She called after him as he raced down the steps on the heels of the warrior. She gave the stranger a brief glance, a sign of acknowledgement but shrugged him off and turned back to her brother. Sage stood before his sister with barely any time ask what she had called him over for when she pulled him into an embrace, holding onto his tunic tightly.

“Don’t go and do something reckless” She spoke directly into his crown, “I’ll be safe” The boy promised pulling away from her. Alicia knew she could take her brothers word but, she looked towards the warrior and frowned in thought. With him she did not feel as though it would be quite as clear cut as her brother thought it would be

“I trust you to not get yourself in trouble … but” There were unspoken words in her hesitation. It was clear to him that Alicia had followed on quickly to what was going on, and who the poison had been meant for. He could also feel her unease at such a person gallivanting around their home and was none too pleased that her little brother was about to go running off to do something reckless.

“I know, it won’t be like last time, I promise” Sage said, recalling how she had been after learning of what had happened during his outing in Scara Brea.

But this was not Scara Brae, this was his home, and this was his sister whose life was on the line. There was no retreating from this. But unlike that time, Sage knew he wasn’t alone either. Sage spared Shinsou Vaan Osiris a look of his own, and nodded as he took off after the man, giving his sisters hand a soothing squeeze as he ran on by.

It was the first sliver of hope that Sage had felt for finding a cure for his sister. Shinsou was a man on a mission, having considered his words carefully and weighed his options the man had stormed outside into the quiet little town and was set to create ripples. Except that this plan also required his direct assistance. Sage hated the thought of leaving his family in their current plight to help this man track down an assassin of all people, but also to do so while leaving his own search incomplete did not sit well with him either.

Not that he said anything to the warrior, haste would often win out over cleverness and he was certainly willing to keep his options open. He would even be willing to show his face around the town alchemist, past … transgressions aside, there would be no possible way for the old lady who ran it would spite the whole town just because he would be the one asking for help. “I hope”
Sage easily kept pace with the taller man, keenly aware of the town’s residents openly staring at the strange man. However their stares were short lived, as the vineyards workers spread out into the town and began to holler each and every resident they could find.

“Don’t drink the water”
“It could be poisoned”
“Is the barrier working?”
“Who would do such a thing?
“Is there really an assassin here?”

Shinsou’s march eventually led them at the front of the tavern, whereupon Sage felt his cheek twitch
“The tavern, are we really going to…?” The use of a tavern as a source of information was something that was used far too often in every adventure book he had ever read. It was certainly true that all of the taverns patrons were loose with their tongues, and was prone to any sort of gossip that would spread around a village faster than genital herpes in a brothel.

“…lets proceed” he said begrudgingly with a flourish of his arm towards the establishment.

The inside of the tavern was open and spacious with a fine mist of smoke and the heavy stench of ale permitting the room, it was a familiarity that any traveling adventurer would feel at home in. But the gossip seemed to be stalled for once, one of his sister’s workers was already at the bar with the barkeeper looking a little more than horrified with the news he brought. The quiet dim of the tavern continued as Sage entered, with none even giving the Ainsworth boy a second glance but they certainly grew silent when Shinsou followed behind him. Sage ignored the awkward atmosphere the man had seemed to create in favour of actually scrutinising as many people as he could see, looking for strangers and outsiders alike.

A rough old looking man was the first under his scrutiny, but he recognised the man as old Maverick, a retired war veteran who lived about two miles down the road. He didn’t appear to look the type to use poisons, the man had always professed he used to be quite skilled with a spear until his age had caught up with him.

Another unaccustomed face he saw turned out to be the alchemist’s own grandson, someone who had left the town years ago but frequently came back just to visit the only family he had left. He certainly had the skill and the knowledge to have at least heard or know of the Polonia mushroom, but the idea that one of crossroads own was capable of willingly poisoning an entire village to get to one man did not sit well with the boy. “But can I really dismiss him outright either?”

“I am afraid I see no one I do not recognise” he admitted, turning to Shinsou. “The old man by the bar is a retired veteran, and the young man in the corner is the alchemists grandson, he left a few years ago however”

The Telgradian noted his companion's observations, nodding to affirm he understood, but he wasn't easy with just taking things at face value. His experience of places like this led him to believe that one did not simply learn by looking, and that a good, old fashioned eavesdropping was usually a good starting point on an intelligence gathering task.

"Bear with me, here. Let's get a drink, and listen."

Given his outlandish looks it was unsurprising that the patrons of the tavern were giving him somewhat of a cold stare. He wasn't exactly the most inconspicious looking man, after all, and even in a backwater town like Crossroads there was always the possibility that he would be unfortunate enough to be recognised. Luckily for him, the two men didn't extend their cursory glance beyond a couple of seconds before turning back to their drinks.

"What can I get you? A fine ale?"

Noting the bartender’s request, Shinsou interjected.

“Just whatever whisky you have will be fine, i'm not really an ale type of person,” He remarked, being sure not to insult the suggestion.

The Telgradian reached over and grabbed his tumbler, sliding it back towards him. He drank half the golden brown liquid, savouring the strength and bitterness of it as it warmed his throat. Sage politely refused the offer of a drink, deciding to sit in silence, pointedly ignoring the Telgradian until his glass was nearly empty. Satisfied, Shinsou pushed his half away for a moment and turned to shoot a glance at the two men at the bar. The veteran that Sage had identified was nothing out of the ordinary at all; just a hulking man enjoying a drink without a care in the world. The other one, the alchemist's son, seemed calm enough but was scratching the back of his hand a lot. A nervous tick, perhaps? Something else?

"That guy, the alchemist's son," he said to Sage as the barkeeper took his empty glass. "He keeps scratching the back of his hand. He's wearing a glove, though, so why doesn't he take it off?" Shinsou flashed him a knowing glance with the practiced grace of someone who held suspicion, “He can't be satisfying that itch through a few centimeters of leather. Think he is hiding something?”

There was a pause. If Shinsou was looking for a reaction from Sage, he would have been disappointed. The boy shrugged.

"Possibly, but maybe he is embarrassed by whatever it is he is suffering from?"

"Possibly," The Telgradian finally said. "But maybe not..."

At that moment, the alchemist's son to their right them leaned back and propped his boots on a nearby chair. He took a sip from his ale and then began unbuttoning the glove on his irritated hand, finally giving in to the ferocity of the itch. He was doing his best to shield the affliction from view, swivelling his body to ensure prying eyes couldn't see the skin on the back of his hand. It didn't work. The Telgradian could see the peeled, broken skin on the knuckles of the man's hand. The skin was red raw; blotchy, blistered and weeping. It looked in a terrible way, as if something acidic had made contact with it.

"I've just seen his hand," Shinsou whispered to Sage, exchanging looks with him, "It looks fucked up. Blisters, weeping wounds, red blotchy skin. Would you say that could be a product of working at an alchemist's, or could it be prolonged contact with something far more dangerous?"

Like Polonia...

Shinsou looked pointedly at the Ainsworth boy as he said the last, judging his reaction.

"If we can get you get a look at that hand, would you be able to tell what caused it?"

‘Bear with him as he goes off to do something so horribly cliché, he says.’ Sage openly frowned.

The boy was now utterly undecided on just leaving what was apparently becoming a wild goose chase for someone who may not even be here. He was starting to feel that this was becoming an exercise in futility, his sister was on borrowed time and rather than turn his father’s library upside down for a potential cure.

Here he was in a tavern.

Something about shin seemed kind of familiar. In the sense that he felt like someone Sage could openly trust. It may have been his presence, a whirling vortex of confidence that inspired people and led them to open victory. Maybe it was a glamour spell? Those seemed rather popular these days.

Torn as he was Sage had yet to leave.

And Shin did bring up a good point.

Sage tilted his head discreetly as he pretended to look at Shin to discuss something, all the while turning his gaze to the ‘Fucked up’ hand as Shin so eloquently put it. Sage winced in sympathy at the sight of the man’s hand in such a condition, it looked swollen to the point that the whole hand looked ready to pop.

Supressing the urge to gag, the boy instead began to chew on the facts he had. Polonia was a slow acting poison that slowly wasted away the body’s internal organs, effectively shutting them down one by one. It also needed to be ingested for the body to become paralyzed, so what would happen if such a poison were to come into contact with exposed skin?

“His hand may be like that for any number of reasons” Sage explained with a whisper.

He was thoughtful for a moment longer as he brushed his hair back over his shoulder. “There could be hundreds if not a thousand reasons why his hand would be in such a condition, Polonia poison could be a possibility, but a remote one at that”.

But another thought came to him.

Due to the animosity between his family and the resident alchemist, he was fairly certain that she would allow his sister to die if only to spite the Ainsworth name. But whole cruel a callous, he was also certain that she would not have poisoned the entire towns water supply just because she was feeling rather vindictive that morning. But that did not apply to her grandson, did it?

“Why not just go and ask him what he knows. My sister is alerting everyone in town as we sit here, so why don’t we just ask for his help. I know he was being trained as an alchemist before he left town, so if anyone in this town may know about how to cure Polonia poison, then he would know.” He said, growing more hopeful by the second. While he would forever question Shin’s choice to bring them to a tavern to find an assassin. The fact that they may have run into someone who knew alchemy was certainly an unexpected boon.

Thread Title: The Memory Remains
Judgment Type: No Judgment

Shinsou Vaan Osiris receives 1320 EXP and 100 GP!

Sage receives 795 EXP and 100 GP!

All rewards added!