Ellie stalked along the edge of a building, her head on a swivel. She clutched a bag close to her chest, gripping it as if it were her child. She slinked around the corner of the alley, so far, so good. Ironically, the deserted back alleys were some of the safest places right now, as long as they stayed deserted.
Emerging onto the main thoroughfare, her anxiety rose as throngs pressed from all sides. True, there was some safety in numbers, but those same numbers would just as easily trample her at the first sign of trouble.
She worked her way through the crowd, eventually breaking out of it and into a small square just off the road. A courtyard shared by three shops lay before her, a small patch of grass with a single tree at its center, decorating the interior.
“Heya, El,” Jessup greeted.
He was a large man, at least two heads taller than she, who used to be in her brother’s adventurer group. He had been taking odd jobs prior to the rebellion, but now he was one of several adventurers who had taken it upon themselves to maintain peace throughout the city.
The guards that remained were not popular among the citizens, owing to their wholesale slaughter of the city’s residents during the riots and rebellion, but they were also disliked due to their current loyalties.
It was no secret that several powerful nobles who survived the rebellion, as well as a compendium of merchants of various renown, were buying guard allegiances and removing them from their primary function: keeping the city safe, choosing instead to pile them into their numerous estates and properties to guard their persons and goods.
“How’s it been, Jessup?” she asked in greeting.
“Not so bad, nowadays. Things’ve calmed, mostly. Everybody’s settled into this new norm, whatever you’d like to call it,” he said, shrugging.
“Any trouble?” she asked, stopping before the threshold of the door on the right.
“Not so far. Mostly just have’ta glare at schemin’ folk and they scamper off,” he explained.
“That’s good. Thanks for your hard work,” Ellie said with a smile, entering the shop.
She waved at the man behind the counter before continuing up the stairs in the back. Mr. Doggard was a good sort, an old man who got lonely occasionally. He had looked after Ellie and her brother for a long time, even allowing them to stay in a room above his shop when her brother came down with an illness.
Ellie ascended the stairs, tightly squeezing the small portion of meat and vegetables in her bag. Prices were in constant flux around the city, so she had spent hours trying to find the cheapest goods, though she was still not happy with what she had spent. She earned a decent wage working for the marquis, but those payouts ceased with his death.
She rounded the corner and exhaled, wondering how she would pay a healer now. She opened the door to her room, immediately wrinkling her nose at the smell. It was modest, with just enough room for the furniture decorating it. Two beds were separated by a small table between, each with a trunk at the foot.
The door opened on the right side of the room, with the empty bed in front of it, while the wall next to the door held a large wardrobe, occupying the space before the second bed.
In this second bed, against the far wall, was her brother’s covered form. He was asleep, the covers rising and falling in a slow, steady cadence. The wet breath coming through the sheets covering his head made Ellie furrow her brow, and the smell told her that he had new lesions even without removing the covers.
She gently set her groceries next to the wardrobe, approaching her brother’s bed. However, a glint on the nightstand drew her attention. A small patch of what seemed gleaming silk sat near the front, beckoning to her, and she could see the glimmer from a nearly invisible thread connecting the back of the nightstand to the window behind it.
She unfurled the note with shaky hands and read its contents several times.
We hear, and we answer.
We have an offer for you.
You have already worked for us.
We would like that work to continue.
However, a deal is a deal.
Should you wish to end our relationship here,
Merely dispose of this note.
A potion for your brother will be delivered, as promised.
Should you wish to work with us,
Simply tug on the thread.
Ellie sighed. She had been promised a cure for her brother, and she was ecstatic to see that bargain fulfilled, even if she was skeptical about offering a potion of unknown origin to her deathly ill brother. She was tempted to refuse the offer simply because she had already secured the potion, which was what she wanted.
However, what she needed now was a job. She would never find a more lucrative position than working for the marquis, and even worse, the remaining nobles and merchants were battling it out with each other. They certainly were not hiring new help, not unless she wanted to sign on as a guard.
Setting the note aside, she gave the thread at the back of the nightstand a gentle strum like a corded instrument.
The simple reality was that even curing her brother would not matter much if they both ended up starving.
Ellie jumped, spinning around as muted groans echoed throughout the room. The space in front of the door expanded, a swirling purple abyss taking over that portion of the wall. A woman emerged, her feet floating just inches from the ground. Her pallid skin possessed a purple hue, and her eyes drew Ellie in, as if entranced.
Following behind the woman was another who seemed encased in black armor. She stood on the ground, with her arms clasped behind her back, four other arms curled around her head like wings. A strange veil covered her face, which Ellie thought looked like the silk in the notes she had been receiving.
The woman with cracks in her skin and a halo of stars above her head approached, and Ellie tensed. She merely floated past, however, hovering over the side of her brother’s bed and inspecting him.
“This is the one?” she asked, glancing back at the veiled woman, who nodded.
The blanket covering her brother suddenly lifted on its own, pulling back to reveal Danyeth in all his misery. His skin was pale, veins visible like roots in a clear pond. Some sort of dried fluid crusted his eyes and nose, and there were several raised sores around his body, some of which must have burst, judging from the smell.
“Has he been healed before?” the woman asked, lowering down to stand on the floor rather than floating, not looking at Ellie.
“Y-yes. I have had him seen by healers several times,” she muttered, doing her best to resist the urge to flee.
“And he is still this bad? Do you know what magic they cast?” the woman questioned, her eyes flashing with various shades of glow as she studied Dany.
“I-uh, no. I don’t. Sorry.”
“Hmm…did they examine him at all?”
“I don’t think so, no. They arrived, covered their noses, and cast a spell, leaving immediately after,” Ellie explained.
“This seems to be a bacterial infection, so it is not surprising that a rudimentary healing spell did not cure it fully. Spells like rejuvenate only restore the body’s energy, enabling it to heal itself. Even the most basic of healers should know that, though, I would think,” the woman said, seemingly thinking aloud.
She waved her hand over Dany, and his body lit up, glowing with a warm orange light. Ellie’s mouth hung agape as his sores closed and vanished, and his skin regained a healthy color.
“Still, those spells should have given him enough energy to recover from an infection on his own, especially if applied repeatedly. Maybe he is immunocompromised?” the woman muttered, glancing at Ellie.
“Maybe he’s what? Sorry, I-I don’t know what that means,” she replied.
“Was he a sickly child? Has he been prone to illness in the past?” the woman asked.
“No, actually, the exact opposite. I can’t recall an illness keeping him down for more than a few days prior to this one,” Ellie declared confidently.
“Well, no matter. Cure disease scoured the infection from his body, and rejuvenate restored his vigor. He will need rest and food to recover fully, but he is on the mend.”
The woman turned, approaching Ellie and staring into her eyes. Ellie’s back began to sweat, and she planted her feet to avoid her instinctive desire to back up, lest she accomplish nothing but tripping over the other bed.
“You worked for the marquis, yes? A small but successful merchant prior?” she asked.
“Not just any merchant, Mythmaker. She worked for the Donblatt family, a successful merchant family recently brought into the Taolu fold,” the woman by the door explained.
Ellie turned on her, staring. How had she known that? Ellie was very careful not to reveal her previous employer. The Donblatts had not been part of the Taolu while she worked for them, but their reputation now was enough for her to hide even that small amount of involvement.
“You must have learned some tricks of the trade, yes? Moirenea tells me you are quite gifted,” the woman, this ‘Mythmaker’, said.
Ellie shifted her gaze between the woman before her and the one at the door, too confused and anxious to speak.
“You need not know who we are, child, but we know you,” Moirenea said, the amusement evident in her voice, even if Ellie could not see her face.
“We have some work that you would be perfect for, Eleanore. We even have something for your brother, once he recovers. What do you say? Nemesis could use your help, and we take care of our contractors,” the woman said, her glowing eyes drawing the very breath from Ellie’s lungs.
————————————
“Haa,” Bernard sighed, staring at the scroll, his head in his hand.
“It’s not going to change, no matter how much you breathe on it,” Lamorak quipped.
He sat beside Bernard, a chair pulled up so they could both inspect the document on the desk.
“I just don’t see how it’s possible. These stipulations have shackled us beyond our own abilities. How am I supposed to capture not one, but two cities without a siege, without even targeting supply lines?” Bernard groaned, leaning back and staring up at the ceiling.
“I daresay that if Nemesis imposes such terms, whatever ‘help’ they aim to provide needs to be significant enough to bridge such a tactical gap because we cannot on our own,” Lamorak reasoned.
The two were silent for a moment, both lost in their own thoughts, before the sound of footsteps running down the hall brought them back to the present. Bernard immediately stood, grabbing his sword from the side of the desk, prepared.
A servant burst into the room, not even knocking. She huffed and puffed, as if she had sprinted all the way up the stairs.
“My lord, I apologize! I asked him to wait, but—” she started.
A man entered the room, moving around her with a fluid grace that spoke of sure, precise steps. Though upon closer inspection, it was not a man, but a demon. If his glowing, reptilian eyes or black plate armor with glowing blue lines were not indication enough, the horns spearing out of his helmet were.
He moved through the room silently, not even acknowledging the three, who stared at him in various states of shock. A chair skidded from across the room, placing itself before the desk as if beckoned. He sat down on it and removed his helmet, setting it on his leg before turning his attention to Bernard.
“Let us talk strategy,” he said.
On the table before them was the unfurled scroll that Nephthys had presented Bernard days ago, Nemesis’ conditions for aid written upon it in a flowing script:
Slavery Is Abhorrent
Nemesis will not support states or entities that institutionalize slavery, debt bondage, hereditary servitude, or coerced labor.
Citizens Must Be Represented
Nemesis will not support states where no formal body exists to voice the interests of the governed.
Noncombatants Are Not Targets
Nemesis will not support states or entities that intentionally target civilians, food supplies, or medical sanctuaries.
Truth In Treaties
Nemesis will not support states or entities that violate written treaties without formal renunciation.
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