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IoaUM Chapter 6
🕑 Added 2025-02-28 06:09:15 +0000 UTCWith much of the city awake and on their way to work, I couldn’t take one of the trams closer to my home. More of the damned, ash-born need to posture prevented me from using the much cheaper and more reasonable trams when they were as cramped as they were sure to be at this hour. Instead, I forked out an additional two large gold for the much shorter ride to my home in the Hearth, and sat quietly in the back of another mongoose-drawn carriage ride.
I’d mostly recovered from the exertions of the day before, but even so I focused my mind and deliberately relaxed my mind. Along my spine, a prickling of ambient mana in the air flowed freely into my body, and I allowed the meditative state to center me. I hadn’t the opportunity to fully lose myself in the calm, though, as the cart jittered to a stop in front of my home and the cabbie called back, “Here!”
With a flick of my wrist, I sent the two large gold pieces flying towards the man as I stepped out of the carriage and into the cobbled street. The cabbie doffed his cap and quickly directed himself to the nearest busy street. I scaled the steps up into my home, where I placed my spectral hand against the unremarkable stone beside the hinge of my door as my right hand grabbed the handle of my casting rod. The mental construct I needed was simple and familiar, and with the additional focus offered by my rod, it took me less than a second to complete.
“Diapero.” I whispered, sending my hand only just deep enough to pull the thread of twisted wire taut and unlock the door as I released my casting rod with my right hand. With the springlock still disengaged, I shouldered open the door and stepped inside. The mostly dark room greeted me and I, with a quiet command of “Fotia,” lit the candles all around the room in one sweep of my hand.
My sitting room greeted me as my wooden heels clicked on the marble flooring, three beautifully upholstered velvet seats surrounded by three walls of bookshelves packed with scrolls, books, spell components, and “rare” magical ingredients. I sat on the nearest chair for a moment as I removed my shoes and replaced them with my fuzzy slippers as I made sure everything was in order. The Corrupted drake’s scale on its individual display, preserved mandrake’s foot, and a bleached orcish skull were the three items that usually drew visitors’ eyes, and, though all three were nothing more than baubles pretending to have some monetary value, none had been moved. With a grunt of effort, I stood and walked between a pair of the shelves into my living room, where the marble flooring was replaced by thick carpets and comfy, worn in couches instead of the velvet chairs.
The constant cold had seeped into the insulated room, and with another command of “Fotia”, I kindled the fire in the fireplace. Immediately, bright flames licked at the prepared logs, and I listened to the quiet crackle of fire as I walked into my workroom. There, I pulled off my braided metal bracelet and dropped it into its charging weave that began leaching the cold from the stone room. I undid the buttons to my shirt as I walked out of my workroom and to my bedroom where I changed myself into another suit. I made sure to carefully hang the silken waistcoat, but couldn’t bring myself to care about the stained shirt and ash-singed pants and instead dropped them on the floor. My bed called to me, a goose down mattress with a thick, warm quilt, the pair making my first real purchase I’d made as a Mage. I heard the bed’s temping words, begging me to rest. I denied my beloved’s embrace, instead dressing myself in a red button-down shirt, black waistcoat, and matching black overcoat and pants.
I tugged my sleeve down to my wrist, making sure to look as professional as possible as my spectral hand busied itself with ensuring that every wrinkle was addressed and annihilated. Finally satisfied, I walked into my washroom and inspected my face. The previous day’s beard growth remained, and I fished out my razor as I applied the lotion and soap to my face in a lather. Once on, I quickly shaved and washed my face clean, ready to face the rest of the day. My hair had dried in a stylishly mussed fashion, the only easy part of this whole “True Mage of Kormos” persona I needed to put and maintain day after day.
Before I could convince myself to go back out into the world and confront the questions that I so desperately needed answered, I walked into my living room and allowed myself to collapse onto the couch. Ash me but leaving the house sucked. I’d fought and clawed and scrimped and saved, and finally, I’d been able to afford my own home, a modest affair in the upper Hearth. And I needed to leave it all the time to keep it. Worse still, I couldn’t in good conscience sit alone in my home while I could help so many people. With another sigh, I pulled my pipe out of my jacket pocket, pressed in some tobacco, and set it alight with a thought. As I pulled from the pipe, I quietly sat, my arms wrapped around my legs as my spectral hand held the pipe up near my mouth so I could breathe the smoke deep without moving. I huddled quietly and watched the flames dance while the pipe’s contents went up in smoke and I prepared my mind to reenchant my ring.
It was only as the fire died down that I checked my waistcoat’s pocketwatch. Dammit. I’d spent an hour just looking at the fire and thinking about nothing, and I’d lost all that time instead of continuing my search or preparing any one of my tools. Forcing myself to stand, I strode to my workroom, a small room ringed with carefully organized shelves, where I sat onto an unornamented wooden stool and sat straight. In the colder room without the warm fire insidiously easing me into inaction, I quickly took inventory of my usual trinkets.
My ring’s wind and kinetic burst enchantments were completely spent. The cold in my bracelet was effectively bottomed out, though my intricate weave of silver wires threaded around three uncut sapphires was working to consume the cold in my house to refill itself. Fortunately, the armlet remained charged with a more potent photomantic healing than I could manage. While my casting rod didn’t need to be prepared, its expensive ashwood needed to be kept clean and tended to remain the powerful focus it was meant to be. With a force of effort and special care to fully fill the mental constructs for my workings, I reinvigorated the complementary windburst and kinetic blast enchantments in my ring. It was a newer addition in my enchantment repertoire, and though I’d previously miscalibrated the windburst, it had still saved my finger, and that was a win.
“Apothikepsi anemos. Apothikepsi dynami. Sychonefsi kai prostasia.” I sealed the companion enchantments into my ring and felt its weight triple with the presence of the simple yet potent magics. With a laugh I remembered the time I’d tried to create a coat that could function as a suit of armor. Once only half my planned enchantments had been sealed into the suit, it had weighed as much as I did, so the suit was put away in some corner as a reminder of my hubris.
I gave myself an additional ten minutes to prepare myself and go through any additional preparations I could make on the fly. Though quick on my feet and a true Mage, I lacked the experience that so many of the ancient elves had in spades, so I couldn’t even say what creative workarounds might be available to me. With a groan I rocked to my feet and, after pulling my bracelet from its charging weave, strode to the door where I kicked off my slippers and stepped into my fashionable caiman-leather shoes. I’d need to swing by the Ragarr family’s home in the eastern Pit once more before back into the Greens. I hesitated to get back into the sewers where I’d witnessed that explosion without my coburite, but I didn’t want to let any trail go cold.
…
The Ragarr home, found in the Pit on the outskirts of the eastern Greens, was much the same as every home found in the Pits. That is, a sturdily constructed hovel with more basement than aboveground building. The deserted mines the Pits were built over collapsed every so often, and the Kormos elite didn’t care to do anything for the poorest inhabitants of the city. After all, there weren’t any of the citizenry in danger, right? The argument set my teeth on edge, and I forced myself to instead stand proud and undisturbed on the Ragarr’s doorstep as I knocked then settled into a parade’s rest.
“Hello?” called out a high-pitched voice, brusque and attempting to be threatening.
“Hi. It’s Krollas, the Mage your family hired to look for Lydin. I’m here to ask Kyrdin and Ellion some questions. Are they in?”
As I answered, I could see flashes of movement of a shadow behind the ramshackle shutters. An eye glinted in the light cast by my faintly glowing spectral hand, and then, without further ado, the door was thrown open. A small human girl, maybe nine years old with deep brown eyes and hair that matched her skin, hopped out and her excited eyes met mine as she began to babble, “Oh, I’m glad you’re here! Did you find him? I don’t think you would have already, and he isn’t here, so probably not. But if you did find him, is he here and hiding?”
Without thinking, I snapped my spectral hand’s fingers together and, with a flash of an immensely simple spell construct, a little flame in the shape of a cat appeared. I could feel my fingers cool the slightest bit as the flame danced and strutted about with the usual cocksure attitude of all felines. The little girl went slack jawed as she stared, completely enthralled. “You’re a photomancer, right? I–”
“Are Kyrdin and Ellion home?” I asked through gritted teeth, fighting to stay patient.
“Oh. Yeah. Ellion just got home. Kyrdin’s at work.”
“Does he know I’m here?”
“Smoke.” The girl cursed as she ran back into the house. “ELLION! THE MAGE’S HERE!” She shouted before summarily rushing back to watch my little light show. Her face lit up as she watched the display of my petty magic, and I felt myself soften. The threats of obscuramite imprisonment had hung heavy over my head, and even with a night’s rest, I was still on edge. Ellion’s voice called out from the home, “Rhys! You don’t leave the house alone!”
The young man stumbled blearily into the street, his dark hair slicked back with dried sweat. His cheeks, like Rhys’s, were high and narrow, though his dark eyes somehow glinted with a hint of mischief just like his little sister’s. That levity died as his eyes met mine, and he nodded severely.
“Sir Mage. I apologize for my sister’s rudeness. Would you like to come in? I only recently arrived, so I don’t have any tea to offer, unless you’d like to wait. I just put the pot to boil?”
I bowed slightly, accepting his invitation. “I do have some more questions for you, so if you’d like to take a seat and a drink while we speak…” I trailed off and Ellion gestured for me to enter. I strode forward and into the communal kitchen/sitting room/dining room, where a dozen cushions surrounded a low table in the center of the room. Around the walls of the room, a kitchen with an open flame and a couple coat racks filled with jackets and scarves filled the space. With a practiced motion, I settled into a comfortable sitting position at the table. I didn’t often visit the Pits, but when I did, old habits returned easily to me.
“We don’t have any options except leal tea, I’m sorry.”
“No, leal is more than fine, thank you.” I responded. After Ellion glanced at the kettle and saw that it wasn’t yet set to boiling, he turned back to me.
“I’m sorry, again. You’ll need to wait for your tea.”
“A good leal provided by a willing host is a blessing on a cold morning. Any waiting is just another opportunity for me to enjoy your hospitality.”
Ellion cocked his head at me as I responded just as any other denizen of the Pits would have, but didn’t comment on it. “So how can I help you, Sir Mage? You said you had some questions to ask?”
“That’s right. I’ve made my way through where Lydin was last seen, but I haven’t made any headway on where he is now. There was something I’m looking into, but I’d like any information you can provide that might narrow my search.”
“Well, like we said before,” Ellion answered as he rolled his neck and sighed, “We’re not citizens, and since he was the only one with even a hint of magic, was a streetsweep and stuck assigned to the worst parts of the Greens. Near the sewers by one of the Altaliel mulchers. He usually had to clean up the trash and leftovers from the mulching, since that area isn’t as careful with disposal. I sometimes brought him dinner on my way to work, and we’d meet up outside the warehouse called Shumatsa. Recently he’d been working extra without bonus pay, but he promised that it wouldn’t be long before a raise came his way.”
“Ok. But do you know where he was specifically four days ago?”
“No! I told you before, and that’s why we asked you to look for him, ok? He didn’t come home, and his boss won’t talk to me, so I don’t know where he is! Ok? Listen!” Ellion took a deep breath and then, as he ran a shaky hand through his hair, realized who he’d shouted at and looked up at me with wild eyes. “I’m so sorry Sir Mage! I’m just stressed out because the person who makes the most money in the family disappeared, but don’t worry, you’ll still get your payment. I shouldn’t have been so–”
“Ellion. I know how hard it is to have a family member disappear. That’s all I wanted to ask. I’m sorry for stressing you out more. I’ll let you know what I find.” I couldn’t keep myself from speaking as a warning rose unbidden to my lips. “Don’t… don’t get your hopes too high. When someone goes missing like this, they’re usually not found happily drunk in a bar.”
Dead eyes met mine and I forced myself not to jump as, in the background, the kettle started to scream. Ellion didn’t respond to me or the kettle and I nodded my head and stepped out of the house as the kettle continued to shriek.
