The East Quarter

Max frowned, taking a few steps back away from the pouring flames. His eyes widened as it spread, and then consumed the wall in its entirety. "The Veiled Man? The totality of ..." the youth shook his head in disbelief. There was no doubting this was Caster at this point - the servant spoke with the presumed superiority that only a powerful magi could muster, the arrogance that power over reality brought with it. No doubt 'mere mortals' were but pawns to the creature. It was an all-too familiar sentiment.

"Spare me the prose. If you know as much as you say you do, you'll know I'm not likely to trust you enough for any deal anyway. Save us both some time, and tell me plainly what it is you want, and what this... Veiled Man is."

He loathed even entertaining the creature's offer. He'd have to be a fool to deal with an enemy, much less one so otherworldly. He'd hear what it had to offer, if only to appease it, but he didn't expect to like it.
 
The figure held his silence for a minute or two, setting the chalice on the ground where the fire had pooled, and for the first time was no longer towering over the indignant boy. That didn't last however as he stood back up and retracted his hand, sending the trinkets around his torso jingling.

"Again, I do not ask for trust," he spoke, looking distantly towards the wall and the silhouette as if the boy didn't exist. The black shadow hadn't moved or even seemingly acknowledged their presence, waiting every patiently as the two spoke. "And I already told you what it is, but to... simplify the concept, it is a librarian of sorts, but unlike the one tied to the... grail, you won't be running the risk of discovery by... Ruler, and the scope of its knowledge is, as I said, totality."

The large draping hood shifted as the figure turned to look upon the youth once again. "There is one more significant difference, that to draw knowledge from the Veiled Man, knowledge must be given, some have willingly given of themselves, others sacrifice to this god of knowledge, and give the blood of others to gain a lifetime's worth of understanding."
 
"I'm not interested in some blood pact with an enigmatic god. Most certainly not sacrifice. And what knowledge could I have to offer an entity like that?" Max replied, eyeing the portal with increasing suspicion. Knowledge was power, that much was true. If he could learn about the other servants and their masters, he would gain a significant advantage in the war. But he hadn't survived this long by trusting the machinations of otherworldly magi, much less for something so ... changeable and uncertain. It would take a proud fool to step through into some outrealm to make deals with a shadowy god of knowledge, much less when that path had been offered by an entity with plenty of reason to seek his demise.

He reluctantly took his eyes off of the shadow in the wall to look back at Caster. "You've also still not told me what you would want of me, in exchange for this introduction, even if it were something I wanted."
 
"Oh but you will be, when the others have your scent, and hunt you down with prejudice." The tone of the figure's words carried no personal threat, but rather with a certainty about it. As if he were talking about the dusty red color of a desert sunset. "Even if your plans are executed flawlessly, you cannot eliminate them all before you lose the element of surprise, and Ruler has made sure they all know of you, and your... sins. A change of hair color will only take you so far."

"As for what I want, I desire an artifact, a treasure, a trinket, some bauble, a piece to add to my shop," he added, answering with a faster pace than before. Each word past the second summoned another glowing orb peering from below the heavy leather hood, and with each eye a sense of familiarity washed over Max. In distant memories he recalled those same glowing orbs. Memories so distant or hidden so deep that it was uncertain if they were being manipulated by some magic, or if they were genuine.

"Perhaps an old guardian, a totem of youth." The words echoed through old memories, ones where in frightening nights Max clung to a symbol of protection, a soft plush bear, as most children do.

"A physical binding of your parents love," spoke the memory where he placed two golden rings with care in a old and worn out box, casting a quick glance over his shoulder to see who'd spoken.

"A fetish abandoned, tossed into the night." His words echoed in the dim lit forest, in the refuge Max sought with the death of his first love heavy on his heart, and in a crying fit tossed a silvery band as far as his trembling hand could, never to be found again.
 
"An item, bound to it's original owner by emotion and spirit. An item used in voodoo and dark magics to control and manipulate." Alex's voice rang out as he stepped from the shadows, he was giving the other servant a wary and apprehensive look. "An item that would give him access to you whenever or wherever he pleases."
He walked over and stood next to Max, "The gift of knowledge is a powerful one, but the price may be steeper than you anticipate." He said setting his hand on Max's shoulder, "I cannot tell you the choice to make, only offer guidance and information of my own."
 
Max took another half-step back, rattled by the sudden onset of memories; some of which he'd long since squashed and pushed away. He grit his teeth, ready to bite back a reply, when a familiar voice cut into the conversation. He felt a tangible relief as he recognised Alex's voice. Having his servant present meant that this conversation was no longer quite the dance along a razor's edge that it might have otherwise been. Caster was probably the servant he was best equipped to survive against, but that wasn't saying much. He no longer had to fear angering this entity quite as much, now he had protection.

He gave Alex an appreciative nod as he joined him at his side, taking his words in. He was right, of course. Giving away any sort of significant trinket to a spellcaster was giving them a connection to channel magic through at a distance. In some rituals, the act of giving was significant in and of itself, and things taken held less power. But that still begged the question...

"Some of those things you showed me I don't even have anymore," he murmured, though somehow he already knew that wouldn't pose as much of a barrier as it seemed to this... being. He bit back anger at having his memories rifled through, holding his tongue and his discipline. "But in any case, my servant is right. That kind of offering is dangerous in and of itself, especially given to a Caster. And whilst you may also be right about the difficulty of facing the combined efforts of the other servants, there's only so far knowledge will get me in stopping that. You still haven't told me what knowledge I'd be able to offer this... Veiled Man, that it doesn't already have."
 
The figure didn't deign a response to the sudden arrival, nor an acknowledgement of the servant's presence. The constellation of sickly glowing orbs held their focus on Max. The statuesque bulk simply towered over the both of them in a short, stunted silence as one spoke, and then the other.

"Nothing," he answered simply and flatly to the question buried in Max's remark. Slowly the thick leather cloak parted, and the gnarled clawed green hand that had set the cup down extended outwards to the space between the parties. Five digits twisted and curled into an awkward fist as the sixth, the hands index finger, extended out. On the tip of the bestial nail clung a thick, viscous dark glob.

Without a flick or a twitch the stubborn fluid finally let go and plummeted towards the puddle of profane fire, impacting the liquid like surface without a sound. The edge of the pool spread further towards Caster, but quickly corrected course and the new tributary wound its way back to the stream that fed the base of the wall. "A cup filled to the brim cannot hold a single drop without overflowing."

"Something must be given in order to take, and something must be taken in order to give; even this reality, with it's magics and... miracles abides by this rule."
 
Last edited:
"So it's the act of trade that's important, rather than the content of it," Max noted. "I see."

He was silent for a moment as he considered the prospect. A reliable means of learning about the identities of the other servants, their masters - and what abilities he could expect from them - would go a long way to bringing them down. But it hinged on entering into a deal with this Caster, and there was no way that the other servant would be offering him that if it didn't in some way benefit him. The requested tokens seemed harmless enough; sentimental, more than anything else, but Alex's point still stood. Knowledge would do him no good if having that trinket would allow Caster to afflict him with whatever foul magics he wanted from the safety of his own sanctum.

The hesitation was obvious, but after a moment, he shook his head. "No, I can't trust you. There's nothing to say that this entire deal isn't a trap. I'd be taking you at your word, servant, and there's nothing preventing you from outright lying to get your hands on the means to afflict me with your magic whenever you choose. Unless you can convince me otherwise, there's no deal. So now what?" His posture tensed ever so slightly, ready to react to Caster turning hostile in the face of rejection.
 
There was only silence to serve as a confirmation to Max's hypothesis. Slowly the withered hand withdrew from the air between them, finger still outstretched, pointing towards the once-blond-turned-black haired youth. The glowing orbs still kept their gaze on him, but one by one they blinked out of existence as they closed, and figure returned to it's monolithic shape.

"There is nothing stopping me from reaching out right now and snatching you from this existence, were such a thing within my purview," the voice rumbled, though still flat in tone- without malice and more matter-of-fact. "But to pluck one thread so interwoven in the fabric of a beautiful tapestry would be to ruin a work of art... if you have no desire to trade, then for now our business is concluded... but my shop is always open."

With that the towering figure turned towards the edge of the platform. Abruptly the chalice between them hissed and crackled. The black effervescent flame seemed to take on a life of its own as it went from a calm pool to a chaotic, bubbling mess- consuming the silvery cup like a match in flame. The stream quickly dried up, or rather the pool retracted towards the silhouette in the brick wall, almost falling into it, before the portal to omniscience closed. The only sign left behind that anything had flowed over the concrete was a shallow eroded channel, where the fire flowed to the wall.

The beast turned to the side, glancing over his shoulder at Max as the whistle of a train echoed through the tunnels once more, ghostly and distant. The clawed hand that had placed the cup and fed the fire reached out once more. Delicately perched on three fingers was a bracelet, covered in fresh mud. Hidden underneath the dirt and grime were two names, of which a capitalized "M" was still visible. There was no magic lingering in or around it, or even around Caster. Just a simple, silver bracelet and a hand worn by stretches of time older than reality itself.

"You lost this," the gravely voice said in a softer tone than before, "try not to lose it again."
 
"How did you-?" Max cut himself off, already having taken a step forward and reached out before he regained control of himself. He stopped, gritting his teeth and pulling his hand back.

Way to play into that one, Max. Couldn't have kept a poker face for five seconds, could you?

He hesitated for long moments, staring at the outstretched hand, as though if he stared long enough he might detect whatever trickery or danger was at play. He could sense no magic, nor any malice - not that he expected to be able to read whatever this creature was. Despite that, he couldn't trust it. But he couldn't let it walk away with that either, for all the reasons he'd just said...

In the end, the decision was more one of impulse than careful consideration. He stepped forwards and snatched the bracelet, clasping it close to his chest and quickly moving away again, anticipating a trick that never came. A brief silence followed, in which he uncurled his hand and looked down at it. It wasn't an illusion, or a fake. Or if it was, it was masterfully enough done that even his heightened sensitivity to such things detected nothing. He looked back up at the creature, his eyes conflicted. "You've made your point," he muttered. "You could take them with or without my permission."

His mouth tightened, and he glanced back at Alex briefly before he spoke again. "I'll think on your deal, Caster. But I still don't trust you. There's power in contracts, and in things given freely rather than taken."

Another pause of silence came, long enough that it seemed as though his side of the conversation was over. Before the other servant left again, though, he spoke once more. "But thank you. I thought I wouldn't see this again. Having it here reminds me what I'm fighting for. A world where he would have been safe." Max looked down at the bracelet, rubbing away the dirt to uncover the rest of the engraving: 'Max & Aaron'. He tucked it away in his pocket, then turned to walk away. "I expect I haven't seen the last of you. So till then," he gave a half wave over his shoulder, then started up back towards the station proper.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top