Octophobia
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Spire's Spite - Arc 2 - Chapter 70
🕑 Added 2025-01-05 02:00:02 +0000 UTCBiki perched high upon his favourite ledge. He watched the alley. He watched the door. That was his task. It was very important. He fluttered his lovely, dark feathers and stretched his wings. They didn't hurt anymore. Which was good. Those bad, mean walkers had been rough with him.
They had wrapped him up and stolen him! But then they fed him fish and let him go. He tried to fly to master, but the winds were bad that day and his wing hurt and wouldn't work. He was meant to tell Master that walkers had gone into the door. Lots of walkers. More than three. But their faces were cloudy now. All of them except for the one with the orange feathers on its head.
That one came clearly, but he wouldn't tell Master about that one. That one didn't go into the door anymore. That one gave him fish every day!
Yummy, yummy fish!
Biki loved fish. But Biki also loved Master. Master had given Biki the smarts and a task. Master had made him better than the other sky lords and had promised a mate. But Biki also loved fish.
Something bubbled in his breast and Biki cried out into the rain. It was high and sharp. His call was perfect. No cry answered. He shuffled from foot to foot. He was mad and sad at the same time. He didn't know why.
Down the stone alley, there was movement. A walker, it was running. It tripped and fell. It got up again and looked behind it. It was scared. It ran some more. The wind changed, something whistled, and the walker fell. Blood poured from its back where there was now a stick pointing out of it. The walker yelled. It was harsh and ugly.
The fallen one crawled. It reached up with its not-legs and touched the door.
Another walker walked down the alley. It had red feathers around its neck and a big stick with a string. Was the stick one of the sticks the walkers used for catching fish? Biki loved fish. But no, it wasn't one of those sticks. He figured that out because the red-plumed walker put another small stick to the string then the small stick soared like a sky lord. Into the fallen walker's leg. The big stick wasn't for catching fish. But for catching walkers.
Biki had learned something today.
"You can't do this to me!" The walker yelled. The other closed in.
Biki knew some words but not all of them. He listened anyway. Maybe he could learn more and become smarter.
"I can do what I want to you, when I want to," the red-marked walker said as it got closer to the fallen one. This walker's voice was nicer than the other's. It was still rough on the outside but underneath it was smooth and sweet. The walker also had blue eyes, just like Biki. Very pretty.
"No, don't! Please I'll do anythin' you ask, don't kill me!" The fallen one wailed.
"Not much 'fun' when you're on the other end, huh?" The walker warned. It put down its stick and pulled out a shiny talon. It waved the sharp edge in the fallen's face.
"Please. No. I ain't done nothin' to you," it coughed.
"It's not about me."
The wind changed again and the red walker plunged its talon into the fallen's breast. It was fast! There was blood! Lots of blood! Spraying all over!
The rain washed it away into the streams.
Biki shuffled his feathers and puffed up his breast. He let out a cry. The red-marked walker spun.
Their alike eyes locked.
The walker hissed out its breath and it shrank. "Bloody bird. Almost scared the piss out of me."
It looked up again at Biki and bared its teeth. "No squawking, you hear."
Its chest rumbled and its mouth grew wider as it made a strange noise.
"Ha ha ha."
The sound cut off when the walker looked down at the fallen one again.
Biki had a task. Someone without the brown over-skin had touched the door. He hadn't gone into it, but Master might give Biki fish if they were happy with him.
Biki let out a cry. This one was to signal his flight. To warn the other flyers to stay out of his way. He opened his wings and took to the sky.
He flew on the wet wind. Soaring was so fun and the sky was his home. He loved it.
Biki forgot he had a task, but remembered it before he circled back to his favourite ledge. He flew into the high area and to Master's nest. It was big and made of stone. It had a pretty dark blue roof. He swooped into the open window and onto a perch made just for him. He gripped the soft wood with his talons and small flakes fell off it.
Biki cried out his perfect call. Then he waited.
The wind was changing outside. He ruffled his feathers and kept waiting.
It was a long time before Master appeared.
"Hello, Biki," Master greeted, its voice so smooth, low and sweet.
Biki looked at Master. They were a smaller walker, covered in a not-skin of shiny red. They had dark scales like a fish. But they weren't a fish, they could walk, but they had neck lines like a fish. Where they had no scales they were pale-skinned, and they had long wavy black feathers growing from their head. Master's eyes were deep red and dangerous.
"Have you seen something?" Master asked, and he knew exactly what they were asking. It was easy to understand the words when Master spoke them.
Biki puffed out his breast and chirped. "Yes!" He was very proud of being able to speak this word.
Master's small talons caressed him and scratched his head. Just where he loved it. He chirped again. It wasn't a word, but it meant, "I love you."
A soft light glowed, and all feeling went fuzzy, everything was blurry. It felt so good.
"What did you see, Biki?"
Biki remembered and he could see the walker with the red feathers hunting the other walker. It all happened again, right in front of his eyes and it looked just the same as before. Then it stopped.
Master didn't bare its long fangs. Not this time. And Biki was afraid that Master was mad at him. And that he wouldn't get fish.
'There, there. I'm not displeased with you," Masted said softly.
Master was scratching his head again with its talons. Very good.
"You've earned a treat."
Out of nowhere, there was a fish in master's glittering talons. A red one that he had never seen before.
Biki chirped and took his treat in his mouth. It tasted very good. He ate it.
Yum. Yum. Yum.
He loved Master.
He loved fish.
---
"On your way. Back to your post," the Nightshark said. Shooing Beaky with a ring-encrusted hand.
The bonded bird levelled its lighting blue eye on her and the Nightshark could feel the love it sent through their link. She smiled, even if the news Beaky brought was troublesome you couldn't blame the bird. It was merely the messenger.
The stormhawk shuffled its beautiful black-blue feathers and chirped, begging for another fish.
She obliged, summoning another one from her ring, then giving him the exotic ruby herring. They were a delicacy from Portus-hai and too oily and pungent for her taste, even when cooked by the best of chefs. She had been gifted a great number of them and she would have disposed of them if not for her bonded beasts' love of them.
"Go on," she chided gently as Beaky gulped down the herring. He chirped again, he really was greedy. If only all her subordinates were so simple.
She frowned and the bird shuffled on its silvery, taloned feet. When he realised he wasn't getting any more treats he took to the sky, his dark form quickly lost in the rain.
The Nightshark turned and left the perch room. She made her way to one of the lounges, one without distractions. She needed to make sense of the raucous recollections she had just pulled from Beaky's brain with her Share Memory Ability.
As she sorted the bird's blurry thoughts, and what it had seen and heard. She considered assigning more of her power to the stormhawk, improving its Memory and Focus, but she couldn't truly spare it, as her other bonds were far more important to keep keen and clever.
She strode through the rich, mana-lantern-lit hallways of her estate, past rooms entertaining nobles and merchants alike, plying them with wine and women, or mead and men, according to their tastes.
She must have been scowling because one of the estate's guards, in the presence of guard captain no less, asked, "Is something wrong, milady?"
The impertinence. He wasn't one of her thugs and should know far better than to presume her mood, much less comment on it. He hadn't even used her proper title.
She spun, her arm slid through the air and in less than a heartbeat her hand was around his neck, sharp nails pierced skin and stopped, resting just above an artery. Even though the man was a Pather, he was nowhere near quick enough to react to her overwhelming Agility.
When he struggled, foolishly, she merely gripped a little tighter, the tips of her nails pressing deeper. He paled as she held his life in her fingers. She could tear through his throat as easily as paper, and if he were one of the rats she dealt with daily she would have. A trickle of blood dripped down the guard's neck. She could feel the rapid beat of his pulse pound like a great drum through her supernaturally sensitive fingertips.
"Captain Tarn, dismiss this... man," she said, taking her hand away. She had thought better of slaughtering the guard right then and there. His blood would stain the soft, green rug they stood on. It would be a waste of wool. "Make sure I never see him again."
"Yes, your grace," her Captain said.
He was an older man, in his late fifties, his stride was youthful and his back was as straight as an arrow. He wore the finest rainsteel full-plate armour gold could buy and was armed with some powerful Treasures that The Nightshark had either bought or found in her past Climbs. The Captain took the impertinent guard by the elbow and began to escort him away. He didn't fight.
"Oh, and fetch a servant, preferably a butler," she ordered. "I will take some tea in the blue lounge."
"Yes, your grace," Tarn replied, offering a respectful tilt of the head as he pulled his captive away.
She only watched for a moment as their heavy boots thudded down the hallway. Absently she considered getting her loyal, unquestioning captain another elixir of rejuvenating vitality. She was due for one too, she was looking on the edge of thirty again. About the age when she had been returned to Rain City and taken her place as head of her house after a bout of 'wasting sickness' had killed her father and his wife, then ravaged what was left of her half-siblings.
No magic, remedy, Treasure or potion had worked on that quick, pernicious disease and soon she had been the only one left of her line, and a Journeyman Climber on the cusp of Expert at that. The fortune, the prestige, were all hers, as was her right. She had ruled her house's affairs now for fifty years, and the gutters for forty-seven.
So many prosperous years of butchery, brutality and blood. Yes, she would need more of that life-prolonging, youth-restoring elixir, no matter the cost. She still had a city to rule.
The Nightshark took her time striding to the blue lounge, named as such due to its colour scheme. Blue fabrics, silk and paintings of the oceans and isles decorated the room in casual opulence, as was her preference. She sat upon the luxurious couch and began to sort through the hazy memories she had collected from her watcher, Beaky.
The clearest were those of a thug she recognised all too well, one of this generation's rising powers, the first Golden Climber of the Sunken Spire in thirty-three years. And the 'boy' had done it all himself.
That Sid had all the makings of a deadly assassin, he didn't flinch at death, was some kind of prodigy with the bow, and had some potent Wind powers that would only grow as he Climbed higher. With that, he also had a heart of stone carved from struggle, a willingness to serve, and a protective streak born of grim hope.
While that youthful weakness may get him into some trouble it would prove a simple lever to control him with. She'd let him gather his wards, those young rats he sheltered in the square he claimed as his own down in the desperate district. Through him, she could recruit those thugs to her own cause. There was the problem that they would be loyal to him, but that could be easily remedied with enough gold, the pleasures of her harem and a choice couple of alchemical tonics and powders.
They were rats after all, and rats ate and cavorted when they could, forgetting their original allegiances.
Sid could be a sure threat to any of her foes and a deadly deterrent to those who might cross The Nightshark. An arrow buoyed on magic winds could strike any in the open, the threat of which would blanket the districts in terror. Every miscreant gang would view the sky with fear because the Nightshark would own it.
But first, she'd need to handle Sid.
She'd known, of course, about his little crusade against the least savoury of their criminal kind. A gang of rapists murdered here or there were no scales off her nose. In fact, she'd been meaning to clean up a few of those crews for some time. It always just slipped her mind, also it would be a lot of hassle and no matter the image of the all-seeing shadow she cultivated, she was not in fact all-seeing. She merely saw a lot, knew a lot, and heard what needed to heard.
The Nightshark had thought the 'boy' would soon burn himself out, have his fill of blood and be done with it. It seemed that was not the case. She'd have to have a talk with him, punish him and reign him in. And if he didn't bend, she would break him.
There was another strangely clear face in Beaky's memories. For some reason, there was much affection tied to this recollection, and the Nightshark could see why. The visage was that of a lovely young woman with delectably smooth, pale skin and fiery red hair. Yes, she should invite that young lady to meet her as well.
Tea was served by one of her butlers, he had scars on his knuckles, was a poor pourer and as graceful as a bull. But my, was he handsome. She knew he was chiselled and well-muscled under his black coat, he was one of those thugs that had risen through the ranks and now served her personally, in her harem and out. Maybe she'd have him join her and this new girl. Or maybe she should just have him now.
She watched him for a moment, then dismissed the thought. Business first then pleasure. She waved him away, took her tea, had some delectable biscuits and called one of her closer bonds, pulsing her intent through the threads that bound them.
Something swooped in through the open window and a scaled pigeon landed beside her, hopping from one foot to the other, eager to serve.
"Hello, Oscar," she said to the cooing, grey bird.
Feelings and thoughts came clear through this more potent bond. Absently she scratched his head, though not too hard, her nails were as sharp as razors. Then she took up paper and quill and quickly conveyed her commands with precise strokes, adding a perfect sketch of the lovely face she had seen in Beaky's memories.
She was done within a minute, slipped the paper into a waterproofed envelope and sealed it with the wax emblazoned with the black fang of The Nightshark.
"Straight to Nic," she said. Though she needn't have, Oscar knew already through their link.
Oscar flew out the window and her eyes wandered to the door the handsome butler was standing behind. She could hear the thud of his heart and the soft exhale of breath through the wood.
She had some time before she had to attend to business. She unbuttoned the top of her red, silken dress.
"Servant, attend me."
---
Sid stalked through the alley, soaked to the bone and shivering. She had left the body behind, but not before scoring the arrow holes with her blade to obscure the wound's original shape. They would be too telling to leave as they were and she didn't want to be caught. Not yet.
Sid knew she would be, eventually, but she would have made her mark on the gutters, delivered her warning to the vile beasts that prowled the districts. It had been satisfying seeing her foes so fearful. They were getting jumpy, looking over their shoulders, not turning their backs lest the 'Scarlet Storm' slash them to pieces.
She tugged on the ragged, red wool of her scarf. The rumours were a double edged sword. Sure they had the gangs fearful, but anyone with half a brain could put the pieces together if they just took a look at her scarf. Sid couldn't bear to part with it, and anyone who had made an accusation violently had been repaid in kind.
She took as much pleasure as she could in her cause, but killing was a cold calling and even that contentment that came after her vengeance, righteous as it was, faded. The slaughter was starting to weary her.
How many more would she have to kill? Why couldn't they just stop their evil? She knew living in these gutters were a struggle, especially to the poorest and the weakest. But when you were strong or rich, was it really so hard to be good?
Head full of bitter thoughts and chest churning with countless grudges, she made her way towards her tenement. Or tenements, she should say.
The Nightshark had gifted her an entire block for her own use. It was a refuge of sorts, or at least it was becoming known to be one in the week she'd claimed control of the territory. The other gangs knew not to cross the borders, but they lingered close, picking at the edges and catching the abused runaways from the brothels or the other brutal work.
Cold fury burned in her chest when she thought of those thugs lurking around her land and denying those who sought sanctuary. She longed to break their petty siege, but murdering them so close to her territory, when they weren't technically breaking any of the gutter's 'rules' would bring down the Nightshark's ire. And she couldn't afford that.
It was another case entirely if any of the gangs stepped into her demesne, as one Jolly Joe had found out just earlier that week. He'd come strolling in with eight of his men, demanding to see the new gang boss who'd been sheltering his lost whores and child thieves. He had stood in the open square, and Sid had appeared before him, standing across from him and his men, bow held lazily to one side.
"I'm sure it's a misunderstanding," he had yelled, smiling through one long scar down his face. "But you have my property and I wish it returned."
"No. Leave," she had warned him.
"I ain't askin'," he'd warned back, that smile dropping like a stone. "One last chance, upstart."
Sid set an arrow to her bow and the man had scoffed. He was at least a Pather, and his followers were likely a mixture of Levelers or Pathers as well. Obviously, he thought he had the upper hand.
"There's no need for that, just hand them over and we won't be too rough on them," he had said.
When she didn't reply, he scowled and signalled to his crew.
"Boys, get hi-" his words were punctured by an arrow's flight, as was his lung. A hole half the size of his fist had been torn right through his chest, and belatedly he'd activated a barrier ring before falling to his knees.
Then the man to Joe's right was struck, an arrow passing cleanly through his neck as he charged.
Sid had thrown her bow down and drawn a shortsword as the remaining men had charged her and quickly closed in. One had some sort of Ability that let him leap, unfortunately, he leapt right onto her wind-wreathed blade.
With her shortsword stuck in the man the others surrounded her, with weapons covered in water or fist's or clubs made of stone. A boom of thunder rang out, flinging the men around her off their feet and off her blade. She leapt onto one of the sprawling thugs, plunging her sword into a throat before he could recover from the blast.
With an activation of her goblin ring, and a shout of, "Stay!" Another of the men was struck still as if bound in chains.
From there it was a blur of rain and red. Of the seven that had charged her six lay dead at her feet with terrible, gaping wounds and the last one left had fled with minor injuries.
Sid could have pursued or picked them off with her bow, but she needed them to tell the tale of what happened here. That the 'upstart' was not to be messed with. Nine men, all Levelers, some Pathers repelled by one man, who didn't take even a scratch from the fight.
That last part wasn't exactly true, one of the Pathers had slashed her along her chest and ribs, just under her left breast. She'd been caught with a knife that had been shadowed with something like Gloom Strike. But no one was left to see it by that point, save the dead man himself, and she had hidden the blood quickly.
After being stripped of its coin and Treasure, Joe's body was thrown in one of the gutters, face up so all knew his fate by the end of the day, adding to the rumours.
Shaking off the memories, Sid passed by the lurking thugs on the outskirts of her territory. They gave her a wide berth, scowling and spitting to the side as she strode confidently down the cobblestone street. She returned their glares, but none could hold her eyes for long and none would challenge her. Cowards.
She soon strode into the square and into the tenement she called home, for now. She could hear the chattering of conversation, children running down the creaking hallways, laughing and screaming while they played. She could smell food being cooked, squid stew and fried rat. A woman with a swollen face and a black eye offered her a skewer of mysterious meat as she passed by.
Sid was starving, so she took it gratefully, grumbling a thanks, then biting into the hot, greasy chunks. They were stringy but filling. She took the stairs up to the sixth floor, the highest of this structure and the buildings surrounding it and entered her damp, dreary room.
Sid scanned the dark, dank corners and found nothing amiss, so she lay down on a makeshift bed of rags. She used her cloak as a blanket, and within moments she was asleep.
Sid was woken up what felt like minutes later, but the sun had set so it must have been at least a couple of hours.
"Sid," a small voice said.
"Mister Sid," the voice said again as she stirred.
There was a young boy with sandy hair, he was dressed in rags and couldn't be past his second Toll. Sid checked her pocket to make sure she wasn't robbed while she slept. Her goblin ring and her triad pouch were still there.
"What?" Sid said, and her tone was harsh.
The child winced, afraid of a punch that wasn't coming.
"What?" Sid said, more softly.
"There's a man looking for you," he said. "He's standing in the square."
Sid nodded and grasped her bow, then crawled to the window. She pushed the wooden slats open an inch and peered out and down to a man in a brown coat. Her stomach fell. She would recognise that hunched figure and scarred face anywhere. Jagged Nic.
Had she been discovered? Was he here to harm her or scold her?
For a moment, she wondered if she could simply strike him down with an arrow. She soon dismissed the idea. It would be like declaring war on the entire gutter. More so than she had already had. No, she needed to see what he wanted. She let out a groan and stood.
"Are you okay, Sid?" A young woman asked, having joined the boy by the door and laid her hand on his small shoulder.
"I'm fine."
They looked scared.
"We'll all be fine. I'll protect you."
--- Author's Note ---
Arc Three starts next chapter, returning to Fritz and the team. Hope you liked this little interlude. :)
Comments
Moon Winchester
TFTC!
yohan gu
Good beaky!
GregSandpaper
“She must have been scowling because one of the estate's guards, in the presence of guard captain no less,” a/the guard captain
GregSandpaper
Tftc. The Nightshark and Sid definitely would have been at the top of my list for interlude POVs.
Kronos
Tftc! “She had been gifted a great number of them and she would have disposed of them if not for her bonded beasts love of them.” beasts->beast’s
