Appearances

Appearances

Two short tales

A continuation of the second version of The Price. What evil would you do in the name of justice? What good would you do to further your own ends? Actions may speak louder than words but motivations are not so easily found out.

Dawn was coming. The thin grey light that steadily displaced the darkness told her as much. Her feet were hidden by the last clinging traces of mist that would soon be burned away by the warming rays of the sun. She was glad she didn't need to see the refuse to know where it was. Slight misuse of her magical ability, she admitted guiltily as she side-stepped around a pile of horse manure hidden beneath the vapor.

She was about to cross into the wealthier district and that meant a change of clothes. For her, this meant more misuse of magical abilities. She shook the thought. She had a reason to use them and it was a good one. The fiend of the night before could not be allowed to continue such an existence. Then again, she had never met anyone else that went chasing after every shade and demon they encountered. She decided she'd think about that later.

"Mist, you hide dangers so easily. May I ask you do the same for me? Convince all that my illusion is what they truly see," she whispered so low she could barely hear herself.

Suddenly, she felt as if she had been dipped in oil. She had the sudden desire to scream and shake it off but she forced herself to calm down. There were other magics that she preferred but she couldn't risk her spellwork being detected by the magic-users that might be employed behind the high gated walls around the homes of wealthy merchants. Magic around her person, unlike magic that clung to the very threads of her clothes, was likely to be mistaken for one of the many harmless amulets rich women were prone to buying. No one would find her out of place.

As if the walls around their private homes were not enough to set them apart from the lower classes, the inhabitants of the district had pooled their wealth together to build a wall around the entire thing. Fortunately, the illusion allowed her to slip past the guard gate unmolested. She was fortunate that no one mistook her for someone's mistress. There wasn't enough money on her person to bribe anyone.

The stone bench she decided to sit on had been wet with morning dew when she sat. At around noon, it was starting to become unbearably hot and she was no closer to figuring out the identity of the dead boy. She would have thought that his death would be on everyone's lips but instead everyone seemed to be talking about a she-pirate that had finally been brought ashore to be served justice.

Frustrated, she began to scan the minds around her for any hint of the boy. It was a difficult task for her as she felt conflicted over the act. Her lack of practice and skill began to show as one by one the men and women around her began to whisper about something wicked in the air. She quickly made her way to another area before they noticed she was a stranger.

Unfortunately, those few  minds that she had touched spread their ill feelings amongst the rest of the population and eventually she found herself unable to escape the suspicious glances and dark mood. She slipped between two houses and found that one of them had a side-gate, presumably for the servants.

The gate was heavy and, not for the first time, she was thankful that she had magic to aid her. She was also thankful that she'd gone for the more flexible magic for disguise. Everyone that looked upon her now saw only an unremarkable girl in servants clothes. She hated the idea of anyone looking down on her but she had to find out who the boy was and a wealthy woman wasn't going to get the job done.

Elsewhere, in the cool shadows of the woods a figure danced around the thin threads of light that filtered through the canopy above. Her limbs were warm and she felt alive again. Although she could walk through daylight freely until the energy released during the act wore off, she wasn't very fond of the stuff. Where her cloak passed, the frail light waivered and dimmed.

She didn't hear the wails until she was upon the clearing. She came to a stop and froze observing the person in the light. As luck would have it, the girl was faced away from her and could not see her chilling form. She dashed into the shadows of an ancient oak tree.

The old leaves had rustled with the wind of her movement and the girl turned around to where the shadow woman no longer was.

"Who's there?" the girl said weakly.

The shadow woman remained silent and watched the girl from behind the thick trunk of the old oak tree. The girl appeared to be straining her hearing but the shadow knew it was useless. Shadows don't breathe and don't make sounds if they don't want to. They can however, be felled by the enchanted arrows made by the pet-mages of the merchant's guild. She really hated those little worms.

Convinced she was alone, the girl resumed her wailing. The shadow woman brought her hands to her ears but knew it was useless. The sound was truly wretched when she was not the cause of it. She would have left but some feeling, some shiver in the skin of the world, held her fast. She was still for a moment as she focused on the feeling.

"What could such a pretty thing have to cry about?" the shadow's voice seemed to come from behind every tree surrounding the clearing.

The girl started. Her eyes grew wide and she gasped without meaning to. She quickly came to her feet nearly losing her balance and tripping over her skirts. Her head turned this way and that as she tried in vain to spot the owner of the voice.

"You really ought be glad I'm no bandit or wolf," the shadow woman said with dark amusement.

The girl didn't know which way to run. It was clear that she wanted to. It was also clear that she wanted to faint. The shadow supposed it must have been an awful existence to never know what you truly desire most at any given time.

"I have given no indication that I desire to hurt you. Now, will you tell me why you wail so?" the dark voice crooned within the girls mind.

The girl tripped at the realization that the voice wasn't coming from anywhere at all. She swallowed and tried to control her shaking. She licked her lips in preparation to speak. The cloaked woman leaned against the tree, which gave a shudder at the contact, and waited with unusual patience for the answer.

"Like you don't know," the girl moaned, "I'm unmarried and with child," she finished with a sob.

The woman felt the skin of the world pull tight and her mind was thrust forward into the man the child would become. An influential man of vast wealth that would grant her untold power and ensure her dominion over the territory. No more pesky mages enchanting arrows to slay her.

Out of the cloak she pulled a silver coin stamped with crossbones. She'd taken it from a pirate queen many years before. She suspected it was only a matter of time before the pirate met one ill fate or another without it. The coin gleamed, even in the shadow of the tree, and she rubbed it lovingly for a moment. With a final sigh goodbye, she threw it at the girl who caught it with ease.

"That has brought me plenty luck and it will bring you a husband who will think the child his," the shadow whispered next to the girls ear.

The girl turned around quickly but the cloaked woman had by then dashed far away, giddy with her new laid plans on top of her exhilaration from the night before.