Unrepentant

Selen strode out of the Alchemist's Guild with a brisk pace.

As she walked through the streets of Rhysling, the Artificers' Guild loomed ahead—she was greeted by the familiar hum of machinery and the scent of enchanted oils.

"Good afternoon, Master Selen!" The receptionist, a young woman with ink-stained fingers, beamed at her.

"Afternoon," Selen replied, her voice warm but businesslike. "Is Vis available?"

"Yes, Master. He's on the third floor," the receptionist replied, motioning for an escort.

Selen followed a guild apprentice through winding corridors lined with shelves of magical blueprints and half-assembled constructs. They reached the third floor, where Vis awaited her in his cluttered office. The middle-aged man looked up from his workbench, his eyes lighting up as he saw Selen.

"Selen! Good to see you!" he greeted warmly.

She returned his smile with a nod. "I've finished tuning the golems for the Magistrate. I'll move on to the alarm system next, hopefully going to have it all done before the auction."

Vis leaned back in his chair, clearly pleased. "Excellent work as always. The merit points for this task will be credited to your account along with the monetary reward."

In Selen's shadow, Nyx observed silently, his eyes absorbing everything with keen interest. "Well this is convenient," he thought to himself, finding Selen's diligence quite useful for his and Silas's own purposes.

Selen and Vis exchanged a few more words about upcoming projects and guild affairs before she took her leave.

Nyx yawned internally as they made their way out. "Boring," he thought, impatient for more excitement.

Selen exited the Artificer's Guild. Nyx, all the while still melded into her shadow.

Selen navigated through Rhysling's lively streets, making her way toward Spirit’s Gazebo.

The restaurant's serene garden, adorned with glowing lanterns and mystical flora, came into view. The air was rich with the delicious scents.

Selen stepped inside, greeted by the staff. A waiter approached her quickly with a respectful bow, guiding her to a private booth shielded by talismanic barriers.

She perused the menu briefly before making her standard choice. "Willow Deer tenderloin, well done" she said to the waiter, her voice routine.

Nyx’s feathers ruffled in indignation as he stewed in her shadow. "Well done? Blasphemy! And that fatty meat?! Your ass is already crushing me here!" he thought with outrage, his eyes narrowing at her decision.

Moments later, a friend of Selen's approached her booth—a woman with auburn hair and a mischievous aura around her. She paused at the edge of the table. "Mind if I join you for lunch?"

Selen gestured to the empty seat across from her. "Of course, Lyra."

They chatted about their shared profession, discussing recent projects and exchanging insights on magical engineering techniques. Their conversation soon shifted to lighter topics—gossip about the castle staff recorded in the golems' memory banks.

"You wouldn’t believe some of the things I've seen," Selen said with a conspiratorial smile. "Cheating on partners, gambling debts... even clandestine meetings between maids…and I mean just the maids." She said with a wink.

Lyra leaned in closer, eyes wide with happiness and interest. "Really? Spill it!"

Nyx listened attentively to the gossip. "This could be useful stuff," he thought to himself. "Though it will definitely let me have some fun."

Selen returned to the castle. The guards at the entrance, clad in armor, acknowledged her as she passed.

As she walked through the main hall, her ears picked up snippets of surrounding conversation.

"Did you hear about that man found dead earlier?" one guard said, his voice low.

"Yeah, a crow's beak right through the skull," another replied, shaking his head. "Gruesome way to go."

Selen shrugged off the news. People died every day; it wasn't her concern.

"It was squishier than usual," Nyx mused to himself from her shadow. "If you’re going to be an ass, you have to be able to be one." His thoughts held a hint of amusement as he mentally mapped out Selen's path through the castle.

She moved with purpose, heading toward the various nooks and crannies where there were hidden artificer markings. Her hands worked deftly, coaxing the magical symbols into visibility with a gentle touch. The intricate designs glowed faintly before fading back into invisibility, securing the castle's defenses in ways only she understood.

Nyx, concealed within her shadow, allowed a small strand of his energy to flow toward the defense mechanisms she was working on. Unnoticed by Selen, this energy interaction triggered a response from the complex system.

Suddenly, alarms blared throughout the castle corridors. Traps that had been set sprang to life; arcane bolts shot from hidden turrets, narrowly missing her. Panic surged through Selen as golems—ones she had just fine-tuned—lurched into motion and advanced toward her with menacing intent.

"What’s happening?" she muttered under her breath, in her eyes there was palpable confusion. She darted between them, her mind racing to understand why everything was malfunctioning simultaneously.

From within her shadow, Nyx let out a silent laugh. The chaos unfolding around Selen was a source of immense amusement for him. "Funny!" he thought with dark glee.

Selen’s hands moved frantically over an exposed rune panel as she tried to regain control of the situation. Her heart pounded in her chest as each second felt like an eternity.

Nyx remained concealed but continued observing the scene.

Selen slumped against the stone wall of the castle corridor, her fingers raw and her mind weary. She had spent the entire day troubleshooting malfunctioning defenses, each new issue compounding her growing frustration. Arcane bolts, animated golems, and traps—every safeguard had turned against her. The signs pointed to a curse or powerful sorcery, something far beyond ordinary sabotage.

She finally finished fixing and reactivating the last mechanism. Her hands trembled as she tucked her tools back into her belt, the sense of unease gnawing at her. Selen shook off the exhaustion and made her way to the Magistrate's audience hall.

The rotund man looked up from his paperwork as she entered.

"Magistrate," she began, her voice steady despite her exhaustion. "The castle's defenses went haywire today. I suspect a curse or sorcery might be at play."

The Magistrate's expression turned grave, his calm facade slipping to reveal genuine concern. "Someone is out to get me it seems then," he muttered under his breath, glancing around the room as if enemies lurked in every shadow.

Nyx cackled to himself silently, not concealing his amusement at the paranoia he had caused.

Selen offered words of caution, trying to soothe his fears while emphasizing the need for vigilance. "We should take extra precautions and perhaps consult a specialist in curses or dark magic."

The Magistrate nodded solemnly. "Indeed. Your insight is invaluable Master Selen." He then shifted topics to lighten the mood, his curiosity piqued by recent events. "Did you manage to strike it rich with the alchemists?"

Selen shook her head with a small smile. "No, unfortunately not. I did make a new acquaintance though—a rather enigmatic man named Ji. We were supposed to have a dinner introduction, but we met unexpectedly in the Guildmaster's office."

The Magistrate listened to her and said "Ji, you say? Interesting…"

Arim hunched over on the floor, his breath ragged, skin cracking and drying out in quickly. Silas observed, his expression inscrutable. The alchemist's office felt like a tomb, every sound amplified by the eerie silence save for the dry heaving of Arim.

"If I want to poison you or puppeteer you," Silas's raspy voice cut through the tension, "no matter what tonic you drown yourself with… It cannot save you."

Arim coughed out an apology, his voice barely a whisper, "Senior Ji... I'm sorry if I insulted you..."

Silas's finger tapped the desk once, and Arim's affliction reversed almost instantly. His skin regained its color and moisture faster than it had deteriorated. Relief flooded Arim’s eyes as he gasped for air, his body trembling.

"Fetch me an Ambitious Mimic," Silas demanded, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

Without a second thought, Arim scrambled to his feet. His hand flew to a hidden switch beneath a roof board. The safe above it clicked open, revealing the rare herb nestled within. In his haste, he activated a "Liberated Flight" potion etched onto his body—a waste of precious resources but necessary to comply with Silas's order.

Arim grabbed the Ambitious Mimic and handed it over reverently. "Here you are, Senior Ji," he said, bowing low.

Silas took the herb with a nod of approval. "We will see each other again."

Internally, Arim screamed in dread, "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" But outwardly, he put on a polite smile. "Anytime, Senior Ji. Anything you need."

Silas turned away from Arim without another word, leaving the Guildmaster to recover.

Selen entered her prepared guest chamber within the castle. She moved to the bed, her fingers trailing over the plush covers before she knelt down, pulling out a suitcase from underneath. Vicious wards crackled along its surface, closer to the arcane intricacies of Magicraft than the practicality of Artifice.

She pulled off an inconspicuous earring and channeled her energy into it. The small piece of jewelry shifted into a specific shaped key, bridging the gap between three wards on the suitcase’s top. With a faint hum, the wards deactivated, and the case popped open.

Inside lay her treasure trove: journals filled with her meticulous notes, several smaller Bags of Holding where she kept her most precious materials, and one that held her clothes. Among these was a container, enchanted with intricate runes and glyphs. Inside it was a vicious-looking crimson plant, resembling more a bared tree branch than a plant stem.

Nyx watched from her shadow, he memorized the earring’s transformation and how it disabled the wards. "Jackpot," he thought.

Selen selected a Bag of Holding containing her clothes and pulled out a fresh set. She closed the suitcase, reactivating its wards with a quick touch of her earring key before sliding it back under the bed.

She walked to an adjoining washroom intending to clean the grime of the day off her.

Nyx, having completed his task of observation, slipped away from Selen's shadow as she began to disrobe.

In the form of an undetectable shadow, he melded seamlessly into the dim light of the guest chamber, slipping under the door and into the halls.

Nyx navigated the castle with ease, his new knowledge of its layout and defense mechanisms made him invisible to the naked eye. He skirted around enchanted wards and silently fluttered past guards on patrol. His sharp mind catalogued every detail, every hidden corner possible.

Finding himself with time to spare as evening barely began to set in, Nyx indulged in a bit of pleasure reconnaissance. He slipped into a nearby corridor where he could hear muffled voices from ahead. Through keyholes and opened windows, he watched and listened.

He pieced together identities from Selen's stories—an affair between a maid and a guard that would make even the most seasoned gossip writer blush, a nobleman's secret trysts, whispers of embezzlement from the castle treasury and crippling gambling debts. Each tidbit of information was filed away in his sharp mind.

Satisfied with his findings, Nyx drifted towards the audience hall where he sensed a familiar presence. There sat the Magistrate of Rhysling, alone in deep contemplation. The rotund man was visibly distressed, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead as he wrestled with his thoughts.

Nyx nearly burst into audible laughter as he saw the Magistrate lift his regal top knot, revealing an unexpected secret: beneath the carefully arranged hair lay a bald head, his hair a toupee. The sight was almost too much for Nyx to bear without breaking his silence.

Silas would amusedly grunt at this information he thought.

Having gathered all that he needed, Nyx decided it was time to return to Silas with his findings. He slipped back through the corridors as silently as he had come in. His mission complete, he took flight into the night sky to rejoin his Master.