Wizardly Dude
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[TEA] (80) 2.31. Sleeping with the Fishes
🕑 Added 2025-07-25 16:00:11 +0000 UTC“This has got to be one of the stupidest things I’ve ever seen. Easily in the top three at the very least.”
Asher rolled his eyes and ignored Thunder as they continued waiting for the assassin to wake up. They’d stripped the man of everything on him but his underclothes and dripped the Lesser Restoration potion into his ears, as there would be little point in interrogating a deaf man who couldn’t hear them, but they hadn’t poured any of the valuable potion down his throat. To Asher’s surprise, he had in fact lived through Thunder’s point-blank sonic attack, but he was clearly in a bad way.
He was also currently scrunched up and shoved into a large, emptied-out fish tank, with the lid sealed on tight.
“I hope this doesn’t take too much longer,” Crush grunted, lovingly holding the large bowl that his pet fish were temporarily swimming around in. “They don’t like it when I take them out of their tank. Cleaning day is the worst day of the week.”
“Sorry Crush, we’ll get him out of here as soon as we can,” Asher said, patting the large man on the back. “Thanks again for letting us use you as bait.”
“Don’t mention it,” Crush said, before shooting him a concerned look. “Seriously, don’t mention it. I don’t think Draken needs to be reminded of us going against his orders.”
“Ah, fair enough.”
While they waited for the man to regain consciousness, Asher looked him over once again. He was a thin, scrawny man, without much muscle on him. He had long, well-maintained hair, and a pale complexion, as though he spent most of his time indoors. His aura was wet and dark, and Asher could all but hear voices screaming from within it as if mimicking the countless victims he’d drowned over the years with his deadly skill.
Tearing his eyes away from the man’s depressing aura, he went through the assassin’s meager belongings one more time. He’d been disappointed to discover the assassin hadn’t kept any artifacts on his person, though the two dozen vials of ink were certainly interesting. As far as Asher could tell, they were entirely regular, standard bottles of ink, so he shrugged and shoved them into his rift for later.
The lack of any sort of weapon confirmed Asher’s suspicions that death by drowning was probably this guy’s usual method.
“Alright, I think we’ve waited long enough,” Thunder decided, tapping the glass a few times to see if that would work. When it didn’t have the desired effect, she tapped a little bit harder, and Asher saw the arc of electricity flow from her finger, through the glass, and straight into the assassin’s head.
Yelping, the man finally awoke. With a groan, he tried to stretch and get up, only for his eyes to widen as he realized he was scrunched up like an accordion and shoved in a fish tank of all things.
Asher wasn’t one bit surprised when his first reaction was to morph into a living puddle of ink once more.
He probably would have done the same thing.
Immediately, the liquid swirled around the fish tank, checking for any cracks or holes it could escape from. Unfortunately for it, Crush took excellent care of his fish, and their tank was as solid and pristine as ever. Asher had been a little worried about the impromptu top they’d secured it with, but Thunder had pulled off some impressive welding, using an electrical current with her fingertip to melt the top of Crush’s tank and form a perfect seal against the new lid.
The end result was a perfect box of thick glass, free of any sort of hole. They could only hope he didn’t need to breathe while he was in his ink form, or he’d probably suffocate before long.
As the liquid shot around the glass, bouncing off and trying again in another location, Asher whispered to Crush.
“And you’re sure he can’t break it?”
“Not unless he has some skill that drastically empowers him,” Crush nodded. “My first fish died when a fellow elite jumped me at home and I accidentally threw him against the tank, shattering it in the process. After that, Draken helped me get in touch with someone with an actual Glass element, and I commissioned her to help make me a far stronger one. Sure was expensive though.”
The assassin must have heard their conversation, as the liquid finally stopped trying to break its way out of the tank. Rather than turn back into a human, however, the puddle sat there, quivering.
Finally, it spoke.
“What do you want?” the puddle demanded, speaking in a strangely haughty tone in Asher’s opinion for someone that was effectively trapped in a fish tank. “I’m still alive, and you went through all this effort to trap me, so clearly you want something. What is it?”
“That makes this easier,” Asher said, stepping forward and taking over negotiations as they’d planned. “I want you to tell me where I can find Eight.”
“You want to find Eight?” the puddle asked, rippling as a high-pitched laugh escaped it. “Don’t tell me you intend to try and fight them?”
“Why is that so strange?” Asher frowned. “He’s an alchemist, right? Wouldn’t he be pretty easy to take in an actual fight?”
“Ah, I see you haven’t fought a true alchemist,” the puddle scoffed. “A word to the wise. Alchemists tend to keep their most dangerous potions on their person at all times. If you see them unstopper something and start to drink it, you best start running before they swallow.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Asher nodded, looking at the puddle curiously. “…Why are you giving me advice on how to fight Eight?”
“Is it really that hard to guess? I despise them,” the assassin admitted, the puddle shaking violently for a moment as if it was about to fall apart. “They act like they’re better than us and refuse to even meet face to face. None of us have ever truly met them, and they’re quick to replace the senior assassins they dub as ‘ineffective.’ I’d kill them myself if I knew how to find them.”
“I guess that’s why they refuse to meet any of you face to face,” Thunder laughed, before clearing her throat as Asher glared at her. “…Sorry.”
“How do they run Whikoga’s entire Guild if they never come out of where they’re hiding?” Asher asked, trying to put all the pieces together. “Surely you have to receive messages or something, right?”
“Oh, we receive messages alright. Via rat,” the puddle spat, actually spitting a portion of itself at the wall of the tank. “The messages are secured to the back of rats that come out of the sewers. You ever try to track a rat back through the sewer to where it came from? It’s a lesson in futility. Sewer rats all but live in the muck, to the point where most of them are covered in gunk and mold.”
“How do you contact Eight when you need something from them, though?”
“We don’t,” the puddle laughed, as though the question were hilarious. “You really don’t know how the Guild works, do you? We’re Eight’s instruments of death. Why should they care about anything we have to say?”
“Fair enough…” Asher stepped back, scratching his head as he motioned for Crush and Thunder to join him a few feet away. To his surprise, Thunder actually blinked and glanced up as he activated Spatial Lock to prevent them from being overheard.
“What in the realms kind of skill is that?” she asked, reaching out and poking a finger against the solid barrier. “What elements do you even have?”
“Fun ones,” he grinned, glancing at Crush. “Think he’s telling the truth?”
“Could be,” the elite grunted, still carrying around his bowl filled with fish. “I’m not a truthseeker.”
“If he is telling the truth, I’m starting to think tracking down Eight might truly be impossible,” Thunder admitted, scratching her back with her mace. “Doubly so if they’re actually living within the sewers. Do you have any idea how expansive those things are? They run under the entire city!”
“Yes, I know how sewers work,” Asher said, rolling his eyes. “And they might not even be living down there, they might just use the sewers as a convenient route for their rats. I’d rather not spend the next few weeks crawling through sewers unless we know for sure Eight’s down there.”
The three of them stood there in silence for a moment, wondering what to do at this point. Asher had really been banking on one of the senior assassins being able to give him a solid lead if he managed to capture them alive. He’d already slapped an Eternal Mark on the man while he was unconscious, so there was always the option of just letting him run and then tracking him back to his Guild hideout. But if he was telling the truth like he suspected, that wouldn’t get him any closer to Eight.
In the end, it was Crush’s own sarcastic comment that gave Asher his bright idea.
“I might have something we could try…” he admitted, hesitating before just coming out with it. He knew they were technically members of an illegal gang that didn’t exactly get along well with the law, but it was the only thing he could think of. “…what if we give him over to the truthseekers?”
“I’ve heard you’re rather new to the gang scene, Reap, but in case you haven’t picked up on it yet, we try to stay as far away from the truthseekers as we can manage,” Thunder said, looking at him like he was crazy. “What more could they do that we haven’t already tried? You said it yourself, you think he’s telling the truth, right?”
“The truthseekers can do a lot more than just tell when someone is lying,” he said, shuddering at the thought of the magical chains Clare bound him with and how she’d revealed she was an actual owner of her own forbidden element. Hell, he didn’t even know all the elements either of them had, so there was no telling what they were capable of. “I’m willing to bet they have some information-gathering skills that we’re lacking. Ones that very might well be evolved to the second or even third tier.”
“It’s risky,” Crush grunted, glancing down at his fish as if trying to decide if the truthseekers would end up targeting them somehow. “Especially with us in Draken’s crew.”
“I’ll do it myself,” Asher decided. “No offence, Crush, but now that I got the assassin that was after you, I’d feel a hell of a lot more comfortable if you went back to hiding out at Draken’s place until this all blows over. The last thing I need is drawing Draken’s ire right now, and for all we know there are others Eight has already ordered to claim your head.”
“I’m with Reap on this one,” Thunder nodded, pointing her mace at Crush. “Now that the assassin’s bagged and tagged, I think we wipe our hands of this and head back to the manor. If he wants to throw his life away by hunting down the truthseekers I say we let him. You know how Draken feels about those guys.”
Crush seemed to not be the biggest fan of the idea, so Thunder leaned in closer, poking him with her mace. “Don’t forget the bargain you struck with me to let you act as bait in the first place. If you come back now, I’ll even let you have a say in the third element we give you. A small say.”
“Fine,” Crush grunted, giving Asher an apologetic look. “Sorry. I don’t like the thought of you meeting with the truthseekers on your own. But Thunder’s right. We shouldn’t get involved.”
“Don’t worry, I can handle myself,” Asher grinned, winking at them. “I already escaped from the truthseekers once, I’m pretty confident I can do it again if need be.”
“You’re insane, you know that?” Thunder asked, laughing as she clapped him on the back before throwing an arm around Crush’s broad shoulders and directing him toward the front door.
“Come on, let’s head back to the manor. I’ll even help you find a new home for your fish.”
Comments
Stephen Swanson
Good question! The largest issue with Spatial Lock is that Asher needs to stay within the bounds of the zone as well, so he'd be trapped within the skill alongside the assassin. It also can't be moved!
Mystic Corn
Love this, but why didn't he just use spacial lock to prevent escape like during the fight instead of evicting crush's fish?
Angela Roberts
Eight is smart although insufferable arrogant. Asher's idea has merit.
