Unrepentant

Silas and Selen stepped out of the Alchemist’s Guild into the bustling streets of Rhysling. The late morning sun cast it's shadows, and the air was filled with the clamor of merchants, children laughing and the occasional clink of metal.

As they walked, Selen glanced at Nyx perched on Silas’s shoulder. “Is that a familiar?” she asked, her curiosity evident.

Nyx waved his wing at her as if in greeting, causing Selen to chuckle. Silas nodded. “Yes, he is my spiritual companion to be exact,” he confirmed. “He’s quite unique.”

Selen’s eyes sparkled with interest. “I’ve heard of familiars but never seen one so... interactive.”

“He has his own personality,” Silas replied.

Nyx puffed up his feathers in acknowledgment, clearly enjoying the attention.

They continued walking towards the entertainment district, where the same bar Silas had visited the day before awaited them. The streets grew livelier as they neared their destination, with performers and street vendors adding to the vibrant atmosphere.

Selen shifted the topic as they walked. “Do you know how serious the matter I wish to discuss is?” she asked, her tone turning more pointed.

Silas met her gaze calmly. “Whatever topic may come up,” he assured her, “we will end the day as friends.”

Selen quirked an eyebrow at his choice of words but didn’t comment further on it. Instead, Silas asked her, “What has kept you in Rhysling? Besides the auction?”

She smiled faintly. “I find Rhysling… intriguing,” she said.

Selen then added quickly, “I find the city quite pleasing. Everything here can just make you relax and let down your guard.”

Silas shook his head grimly. “The atmosphere you speak of came at a horrible price though, perhaps you are not aware?” he mentioned quietly. “Years ago… the old Magistrate died after Rhysling suffered a horrible tribulation that took my old friend Nathaniel’s life.”

Selen’s curiosity was piqued. “Nathaniel? Is that Guildmaster Arim’s Master you mentioned?”

Before Silas could answer, Nyx squawked loudly and suddenly flew off to land on top of a young man who had been walking by.

“Excuse him,” Silas said with a slight smile. “He saw an acquaintance he wanted to spend some time with.” He turned back to Selen and continued, "Yes, Nathaniel was Arim's Master—a truly 'great' man."

Selen nodded thoughtfully as they resumed their walk towards the bar.

Jules was in high spirits, his hands deftly smoothing mortar between bricks as he and his new coworkers worked on touching up a store that specialized in selling headwear. Around him, the laughter and banter flowed easily, punctuated by the occasional obscene joke that had everyone in stitches.

"You hear the one about the shepherd and the bull?" one of his burly coworkers asked, setting off another round of laughter.

Jules chuckled along, feeling a sense of camaraderie. Life in Rhysling was turning out far better than he had hoped. Silas and Nyx had done him a solid favor by pointing him towards the Mason's Guild, which not only set him up with work but also provided a place to stay. Sharing quarters with four other men wasn’t ideal, but it was good enough and came with its own set of advantages—like not having to worry about the punishment sent to men and women by the gods—rent.

He thought back to his journey to Rhysling, marveling at how much had changed for him quite easily within a couple of days. His musings were interrupted by a sudden weight on his head and a familiar squawk. Jules's eyes lit up as he realized who it was.

"Master Nyx!" he exclaimed, bowing immediately to greet the portly crow perched precariously atop his head. Nyx had to jump off to avoid losing balance but flapped his wings gracefully before settling on a nearby stack of bricks.

Jules straightened up quickly. “Sorry about that…” he said, though the movement he just did wasn’t exactly too polite knocking the crow off his head, it seemed to serve Nyx’s vanity adequately.

However, his coworkers looked puzzled at his reverence toward a crow. One of them opened his mouth to say something likely rude when Jules interjected swiftly.

“This noble crow saved my life while I was traveling,” he explained earnestly. “You should show some respect.”

The two men exchanged glances but decided to roll with it. “Well then,” one said, turning to Nyx, “thank you for bringing Rhysling this workhorse safe and sound.”

The other followed suit. “Yeah, thanks Mr. Crow!” he added with an exaggerated bow.

Nyx squawked and nodded regally, clearly pleased with the acknowledgment.

Jules couldn't help but grin as he watched Nyx bask in the attention. "He’s not just any crow," Jules continued, feeling a sense of pride swell within him. "He's a cultivator's companion!"

The word cultivator elicited nods of recognition from his coworkers. Even in the bustling cityscape that saw more and more of them, amazing tales of cultivators and their exploits traveled fast.

Nyx preened himself, clearly satisfied with their reverence. Jules felt an odd sense of relief; having Nyx here somehow made him feel calmer, though remembering the scene of the crow eating his coin made him remember another task.

“I still need to change my money for the new one,” Jules muttered under his breath as he resumed work on the bricks. The reminder brought him back to practical matters at hand—a task that needed addressing sooner rather than later if he wanted to fully settle into this new chapter of life.

As they worked side by side, Jules couldn't help but think about how fortunate he was. He glanced at Nyx again who was now perched majestically on top of a stone pillar watching their work like an overseer ensuring everything was done correctly.

Although… He couldn't shake the feeling that something strange was going to happen today…

Silas and Selen arrived at the entrance of a nondescript bar, its wooden sign bearing the subtle symbol of a winking eye—a mark known only to those familiar with The Rats. The exterior of the establishment gave a truly inviting warmth.

Silas observed Selen closely, his eyes catching the brief flicker of shock that crossed her face before she regained her composure. It was a fleeting moment, but Silas had been watching for it.

A wisp of a smile played on his lips as he stepped forward. "Quite the place for a conversation," Selen remarked, her voice laced with crude humor. "You planning on us being those kind of friends at the end of it?"

Silas chuckled, his voice carrying a subtle undertone. "I simply enjoy the atmosphere."

They pushed through the heavy wooden door inside. The bar exuded an air of casual disarray, with patrons scattered around tables in various states of leisure and business. Silas approached the barmaid, a woman with sharp eyes.

"A private booth," he requested simply.

The barmaid nodded and motioned for them to follow. As they moved through the room, Selen leaned in towards the barmaid with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Anything 'special' today, or just the 'classic'?"

The barmaid tilted her head to the side, her expression one of mild confusion. "We’re not a brothel here," she replied matter-of-factly.

Silas laughed softly, catching Selen off guard. "Such forward questions," he teased.

Selen stumbled over her words, her usual confidence momentarily shaken. "I didn’t mean—well, it doesn’t matter."

The barmaid led them to a private booth at the back of the bar, its secluded nature perfect for their purposes. She pulled back the sliding door that separated it from the rest of the establishment and gestured for them to enter.

"Take your time before ordering," she said before leaving them alone.

Silas extended a hand from inside, Selen took him up on his gentlemanly gesture and allowed him to settle her down onto a seat. He then settled into the other side of the booth, his eyes never leaving Selen. The enclosed space seemed to amplify their presence, making every movement feel a lot more significant.

Selen nodded to him, her earlier embarrassment already fading as she regained her thoughts. They sat in silence for a moment, each sizing up the other.

Silas leaned back slightly, allowing himself to get more comfortable.

Jules wandered through the bustling streets of Rhysling, his mind a whirlwind of confusion. Nyx perched on his head, the crow’s talons gripping his hair with a firm but oddly comforting pressure. Jules couldn’t shake the image of the roaring flames that had engulfed the store where he’d been working just moments earlier.

The day had started fine, with Jules and his fellow masons hard at work on the renovation project. They’d been in good spirits, joking and laughing as they laid bricks and mixed mortar. But then, out of nowhere, the store had burst into flames. The owner had come running out, his face a mask of fury and fear.

“Who here is courting death?!” he’d screamed, his voice echoing through the street.

Jules had stood there in shock, watching as people rushed to help extinguish the fire. The owner had thanked them for their work but made it clear that he’d have to pause the renovation until he got to the bottom of what had happened.

Now, as Jules walked towards the bank to exchange his old coins for Reshal, he couldn’t help but wonder if Nyx’s unusually good mood was a clue to what had transpired. The crow seemed almost gleeful, its feathers puffed up.

“Did you have something to do with this?” Jules muttered under his breath, glancing up at Nyx.

Nyx squawked happily in response, his talons tightening their grip on Jules’s head. The young mason sighed, deciding it was best not to dwell on it for now. At least the unexpected turn of events had freed up his day.

The bank loomed ahead, its grand facade a stark contrast to Jules’s dazed state. He entered and joined the queue, absently rubbing at a spot on his forehead where Nyx’s talons had pressed a bit too hard.

When it was finally his turn, Jules stepped up to the counter and handed over his old coins. The teller gave him a look but said nothing as she counted out the new Reshal notes.

“All done,” she said, sliding the notes across the counter.

“Thanks,” Jules replied, pocketing them quickly.

As he turned to leave, he felt Nyx shift on his head. “Well,” he said aloud, “since we’ve got some free time now, is there anything you want to do?”

Nyx squawked again, this time with an unmistakable note of excitement. Jules felt a sudden tug as Nyx’s talons gripped tighter and began pulling him in a specific direction.

“Hey! Slow down!” Jules yelled as he stumbled forward, trying to keep up with the crow’s insistent guidance.

Passersby turned to stare at the comical sight—a young man being led through the streets by a crow perched atop his head. Jules’s protests grew louder as they neared Rhysling’s entertainment district.

“Seriously! Where are you taking me?” he shouted.

Nyx responded with another happy squawk and continued pulling Jules towards a nondescript building tucked between two larger establishments. The sign above the door read “The Lucky Coin,” and from within came the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses.

“A gambling den?” Jules asked incredulously as they reached the entrance. He glanced up at Nyx again. “Really?”

Nyx flapped his wings once in affirmation before settling back down on Jules’s head.

“Well,” Jules sighed, pushing open the door with one hand while steadying Nyx with the other. “I guess we’re going gambling.”

The interior was well lit and filled with smoke and chatter. Tables were scattered throughout the room, each one surrounded by people engrossed in various games of chance. Jules hesitated for a moment before stepping further inside, feeling both out of place and oddly curious about what lay ahead.

Nyx guided him towards an empty table near the back where a croupier was asking for patrons to step right up. As they approached, several heads turned to watch them—some with amusement, others with suspicion.

Jules took a deep breath as he watched Nyx perch on the side of the table, handing the croupier Reshal, which he noticed was now missing from his pocket...

Inside the booth, Selen got herself comfortable in her seat across from Silas. She put on a smile and was about to say, "Let’s get down to business then," before Silas interrupted her mid-sentence.

His face dropped all pretenses of nicety as his now cold, dark gaze made her seize up momentarily.

"A word of advice… The Rats won’t inform occasional patrons about their most valued customers," he stated, his voice a chilling monotone.

Her mind flicked to the barmaid who had acted dumb when she asked in code if she was dealing with another person “in the know.” She was about to say something while moving herself towards the door when she saw Silas place a “Bloodmoon Thorn” onto the table. She then realized she could not move her body. The wrongness of the situation set off all the alarms in her head.

Silas cracked his neck to the side twice, his demeanor matter-of-fact. "Honestly, I am slightly disappointed with you… giving your hand to an Alchemist. Quite easy to get slipped a paralytic," he explained.

He pointed out the bracelet peeking out of her sleeve. "Artifice tools like that can stop many tricks like this if they are in the same realm. Quite useless otherwise. Something many second-step Artificers always consider."

Dread crept in on Selen as she struggled internally against her paralysis. Silas then put on a smile that could not be called a smile as he clapped gently.

"I truly appreciate the little hustle you've created! Although I am unsure of some minor details concerning it… I am a fan I will admit," he said, moving to her side and picking up her chin to point it up towards him, locking their eyes.

"The paralytic will wear off in a few moments, do not worry about it." He pulled out a small vial with a terrifying crimson-colored liquid in it. Cracking the top open, a red haze began to waft from it slowly before he poured the contents down her throat.

"Unfortunately now, you are poisoned with something a bit more sinister and you have a very generous chance at death" he informed her, pulling out another ampule. "This is the cure; you will get it after our little heart-to-heart conversation ends if we indeed end up as friends."

He rubbed a finger roughly into her cheek before saying, "I was expecting another Artificer considering how you’ve gone about working for their guild so smoothly; however... an Illusionist?"

As the paralytic wore off, Selen managed to raise her eyebrows in shock. Oddly enough, instead of asking for the cure or what he was going to do to her , she asked him, "How did you—"

Silas cut her off again. "It is not my first time meeting one of your kind. Once one knows what to look for, illusions lose much of their potency…" he commented simply.

Giving her a nod of approval then, Silas remarked, "You are a talented con artist nonetheless!"

He then asked in a surprisingly friendly tone, "Where are Selen and the Thorn?"