On Death's Honor

Chapter 40: The Man in the Bar

Eight weeks. That's how long it took for me to get from Canden to Menlek, a bigger city that expanded miles around, which also happened to be the capital of Norvalia. The medium-sized kingdom had once been a mighty empire centuries ago, now reduced to scattered fiefdoms and villages alongside Bendon's Edge - probably the only reason the kingdom still existed. Not many opposing monarchs or tribes had much use for land occasionally plagued by monsters that rose out of the deepest ravines known to man - a ravine that was only a mile at best away from where people made their homes, I might add.

What outsiders didn't know, and what the natives clung their hopes to, was that the monsters that mattered only came out of the massive crack in the earth every few decades, and when they did . . . Well, that was where my line of work came in.

As well as the damn wraiths, but there was no avoiding those. Most of those living in Norvalia were more likely mixed descendents between man and monster than not, anyway.

See, the Circle often hated dealing with them for obvious reasons. Too much chaos, too much magic. But most importantly, it was the crazy amount of attention Norvalia got from Casters that truly set the Circle on edge. Followers of Fael, the goddess of illusion - who, in turn, was a close follower to Refyra, something only the most knowledgeable was aware of. They often dedicated their entire lives to studying the ins and outs of the various sorts of magic all known realms had to offer, which oftentimes led to unstable portal breaches to worlds that never should have been opened.

Yet, it was thanks to the Casters that we knew what the Sixth Source was, and that someone born with a natural ability to manipulate strands of the spiritual realm was not, in fact, a demon-possessed spy sent to slaughter everything around them. A decent discovery on paper, but they were also the assholes that invented spirin: foreign entities the Circle liked to force into most new Bounded members.

I had them to thank for the weird magical being flowing through my veins, something I often had to fight with to ensure it didn't just explode out of my body. And it was one of their members I sought for, today.

Getting past the gates was a meager task of simply joining a caravan that was also passing through. The guards took one look at me, determined that I was some mercenary looking for a job, and warned against any unprovoked fights within the city. Unsheathing my sword for any reason aside from proper self defence was also a serious crime punishable by fines as well as possible . . . Ah, limb detachment.

Fine by me. I wasn't looking to dismember civilians today, anyway.

Where Canden was a big, colorful city on the inside with bleak walls surrounding it, Menlek was just pure bleak all around. Paved streets were dull and covered in mud and manure. Fog and smoke from small fires and chimneys was so thick that they clouded the sky from proper view, and there was not a single drop of color within the first few layers of the city. People wore light armor and gray clothing, soot and grime covering what skin that remained exposed. For a place so heavily wary of unconcealed swords, more citizens carried smaller blades on them than not.

But they weren't depressed. Far from it, truly. These people had a purpose about them, a knowingness that encouraged them to get about their lives. Those with shimmery black scales covering half their bodies worked the odd anvil or two that seemed to be around ever other corner. Those with yellowish veins bulging through their skin worked the dirty snow scattered about, clearing pathways and pulling the moisture from the ground to prevent ice. There were others, too, that appeared more than human, all working together, all preparing for an invasion either from the hole in the earth to the west or a bold army from the east.

They were a somber people, but at least they felt they had a purpose.

Eventually, after shouldering through small market stands and loose dogs and chickens, I found myself standing within the heart of the city, where guards were constant and street children watched my every move, trying to decide if it would be worth pickpocketing me or not. I was nowhere near as big or tall as their fellow countrymen and women, but there were far more other things that made me every bit as intimidating.