Chapter Twenty-Six: A Day at the Market

Chapter Twenty-Six: A Day at the Market

Tom stood outside a large noble compound, three floors and sprawling in width, all marble and oak and glass lording over carefully cultivated gardens and curated lawns. It was the picture perfect noble house - exactly how Toms house used to be.

He had been standing in front of it for some time. Trying to think of the right words to say. Trying to decide whether he should go in at all. He knew he had to; it was the right thing to do. And yet he couldnt make himself move.

In the end, the decision was taken out of his hands.

Tom..? a voice said from behind him.

He turned to find Ella Courser standing behind him, an unreadable expression on her face. Toms brain spun like a cartwheel in a rut as he tried to come up with something to say to her.

Mother said you killed Gad. You didnt did you? I mean, you couldnt have. I know you hated him, but she trailed off, her face crumpling.

Ella, I Tom began, then stopped as he guided her into the alcove in the wall by their gate, wary of the stares of passersby. She visibly wrestled with herself, trying to stem her tears.

Tom had thought at great length about how he would approach this. His time spent hunted in the Deep had begun to shear away a lot of the uglier facets of his personality. Him standing up to his father had tapped a wellspring of new confidence. And, ironically enough, Ellas words to him on the Reaping had started him down this journey.

Tom was done hating himself for things that werent his fault. It seemed The World was bent on making his life a peculiar kind of trial; there was no need for him to make it any harder than it had to be.

And so he told her. He told her everything. How he and Gad had fled together. How theyd survived together in the wild. How theyd been captured and dragged away. And how, eventually, on a night like any other, far and away into the Deep, her little brother had been killed by orcs.

Ella had disbelief written all over her face, but as Tom talked, her face underwent a slow metamorphosis. Darkening, like the city as the sun slowly set behind its walls.

Our poor Gad she said, wiping away the last of her tears. I know he was a shit, but I think most of us were at his age. He was only sixteen She gave herself a small shake, and heaved a shaky breath.

Nobles were more pampered than your average citizen, but to live in this world was to live with the knowledge that anyone you knew could die by monster at any time. Ella Courser was the opposite of Gad in many ways - she was usually the epitome of composure, even if she came off stony.Updated from novelb(i)n.c(o)m

Its true then? she asked him. Theres orcs in the Deep? Goddess what do we do..?

Tom felt a warming in his soul, and the tears Ella had just routed threatened to ambush him. He hadnt expected Ella to believe he hadnt killed Gad, especially when spun a fanciful tale of orcs. He knew he must sound like a child telling tales about the dragon that ate the cookies, when they had crumbs all over their chin.

Its true, Ella. Theyre out there, he said. And if the legends are even halfway true, then were in deep shit.

Once the swarm broke our unit a group of twenty of us managed to escape together to the south. For a few days we were shadowed by something. Or somethings. It had us all on edge. There arent many predators in the Green with enough intelligence to stalk for days and then just give up. It almost must have been

It certainly could have, Tom said, finishing her thought. The orcs we ran into, one of them had Markharts hammer. And we found a soldier wandering the Deep days after the swarm attack, ranting and raving. I think she had escaped an orc attack.

Goddess, they were picking us off. Ella shuddered. I wonder if they were tracking us even before the swarm. The legends say they commune with beasts, I wonder

Wondering what if wont help us much now, Tom said. Im sorry about Gad, Ella, I wish there was more I couldve done.

She gave him a long, assessing look.

Two months ago you wouldve said this was all your fault - that I should hate you for it, she said, not quite a question.

He shuffled awkwardly. Yeah, well, someone told me to stop being such a sulky fuck, he said sheepsihly.

Good, because I dont blame you for his death. If youre getting exiled to the Green then its up to you to avenge him. You cant do that sulking, she told him firmly.

He looked in her eyes briefly, saw all her pain and hurt, but that she was being genuine. She really didnt hold Gads death against him. He thought, briefly, about telling her about the torture and abuse he had suffered over the years, thought about trying to explain to her why exactly he had been molded into that person. Then he let it go. It didnt matter to him, anymore. He nodded to her, slowly.

I might not see you again, Tom. With Gad gone, I'm the sole heir. A lot of responsibilities are going to fall on me. Take care. And dont beat yourself up - the Green will do enough of that for you.

He didnt know what to say. It was strange and unexpected to hear this coming from Gads sister. He was prepared for a more similar reaction to Lady Coursers in the Chambers.

Thank you, Ella. Be safe, he told her, and she nodded once and walked inside.

Tom left, wandering out of the noble district, and reevaluated his opinion of Ella. She wasnt so bad afterall.

~~~~~

Tom had a few things he wanted to do before he had to meet Val at the Hunters Hall in the morning, and he had the entire rest of the day to get them done. He had rarely had so much time to himself. Hed need to rent a room at an inn for a night, but there were plenty around, and he had plenty of coin. For now, he was going shopping.

He headed towards Market Square. You could buy anything you could imagine there, and more besides. It was where all the best merchants in Wayrest set up shop, and where all the foreigners passing down the trade roads came to sell any goods from far away lands.

Any time Tom got the chance he would loiter around the Square, revelling in the foreign accents and sights and smells. He had rarely actually bought anything while he was there - he had no need to, but today was different.

If heading into the Deep with no weapons was suicide, then going with two skills unable to be used wasnt much better. And he had two ritual tattoos that required essence before he could use them.

Ideal Three (Classic):Survival.

Skill One (Classic): Survival of the Fittest (Ritual (Familiar)).

Mana cost: Extreme.

Cooldown: Extreme.

Requirements: Fifty life essence, five hunger essence, five sleep essence, five cold essence, five blood essence and one wild essence. Five aspect essence.

When summoned: Familiar can make extreme or heavy damage physical attacks. Familiars physical attacks have a minor damage bleed over time effect. Familiar has an attack that deals moderate magic damage up to short range and low damage up to moderate range. Moderate cooldown on ranged attack.

When subsumed: Caster gains increased toughness, strength, and their physical attacks gain a trivial bleed over time effect. Extreme buff to casters sense of smell.

Ah! Youre in luck, young sir! One moment, and he bustled away out back again.

Tom smiled to himself, the little old man was a curious fellow, but he seemed nice.

Here we are, here we are! he declared, spreading a double handful of essences on his countertop. Half were deep red, and the others, dark brown.

Now, I use the hunger essence in a tonic for indigestion - and it works a treat I tell you! the man gestured to the red essences. The blood essence I refine and sell to St. Aloes. They must use an awful lot in all those gadgets of theirs, I wager, he finished, gesturing to the pile of brown stones.

He saw Toms small frown and chortled to himself. Its counterintuitive, hmmm? he waggled thick white eyebrows. Blood is brown and hunger is red. Remind me not to let you make the indigestion tonic!

Tom laughed politely, though there was a hint of real mirth in it. The man was friendly, but he couldnt quite align himself with the unusual little mans energy enough for true enjoyment.

Was that all you need now, young sir? Nothing else? he enquired.

Tom listed all the other essences he needed on the off chance the alchemist had any of those. As it happened, he had the sleep essence in stock too, and was willing to part with it.

Tom was just about to leave, having paid and thanked the man, and tucked away all the stones, when a thought occurred to him.

Sorry to be a pain, but could I ask you your opinion on something? Tom said, not sure whether he was barking up the wrong tree or not.

Why, of course! Go on, sir, go on! said the alchemist, and watched him attentively.

Tom took a moment to twist his idea into the shape of a query. Well, I have a skill that negates any poison or debuff, and gives me an equal and opposite positive buff instead. In your opinion, are there any ways you see that I could make use of such a thing?

The alchemist stared at him with the same smile on his face. And kept staring. It seemed like hed frozen, and Tom was just about to prompt the man when he blinked and said, What?

Tom got halfway through his explanation again before the man cut him off.

No, I understand perfectly, Im sure. Well, not really at all, to be honest, I mean, how would such a thing even work? I mean he paused, his mind clearly spinning out implications faster than a spider that had been dropped in coffee grounds.

Goddess, what I wouldnt do..! the little man turned to Tom with what looked like almost tears in his eyes. You must tell me everything about how this works! Everything!

Tom hesitated, he only had so much time left in the day, and he didnt feel like being poked and prodded all afternoon.

Im only curious, young sir! Please, I'll make sure its worth your while. I dont think you understand just how lucky you are! he implored.

Tom relented, and allowed himself to be drawn away into the back room and steered onto a stool.

What followed was one of the most bizarre conversations of his life. The tiny alchemist asked him everything. He wrote in a giant book faster than Tom had ever seen a person move. And he had trained with Idealists all his life, and even seen a Guard with Speed fight.

The alchemist seemed to be using Tom almost as a thought experiment, and by the time an hour was through hed made all sorts of interesting observations about the skill that had never crossed Toms mind.

The only use hed thought of for it was to see if things were safe to eat for others, or potentially to save a bit of money on healing by eating poisonous things. But this little alchemist had vision.

He pottered around, muttering under his breath excitedly, and returned to Tom with a small rucksack that was clearly too full for its size.

You must come back and see me next time you can, young sir! You will, wont you? I need to know how everything goes. Make sure you take notes! I included a notepad and pencils in there, you see? he patted the rucksack.

During their session Tom had divulged that he was being exiled to the Hunters. Hed expected him to immediately become distrustful and wary but, if anything, hed only gotten more worked up. The old man was practically vibrating.

Tom assured him that he would come see him next time his week in Wayrest came around. And that he would try and get word as to what village he was based in, for correspondence purposes. And further assured him he would try all of the alchemists recommendations. And that he would look for particular rare herbs and ingredients he needed for his clients. And that he would take notes. Lots of notes.

With all said and done the alchemist thrust a wizened hand at him. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, young sir! Harvey Bubbles! and he gave Tom a short bow.

Tom grinned, having been dosed with enough of Harveys bizarre manner to become endeared to it. Tom Cutter, or just Tom, now, I guess. Pleased to meet you too, Harvey.

I anxiously await our next visit, Just Tom! See you!

And with that Tom left the dim little shop and stepped into the late afternoon sun. He took a second to compose himself, blinking against the light after so long in the musty interior of the shop. He needed to find an inn soon, the sun wouldnt be up for much longer, this far through autumn, and hed well and truly had his fill of human interaction for the day.

The detour to Harveys shop had been well worth it though. Aside from the rucksack, and ideas on how to better utilise Sweet Suffering, the old man had dredged up enough pain essence for his Wings of Grief, more blood and hunger essence, and a double handful of other rare and esoteric essences.

The pain essence, he explained, was exceedingly useful to alchemists, and accordingly very expensive, but he gave it to Tom without a second thought. The rest he barely used, or hadnt found a use for at all, and so gave them freely too. One of the notebooks stuffed in the pack had a list of what each was, he told him. The little old fellow was truly taken with him.

Before he went off in search of lodgings, he swept back through Market Square with a purpose. Now later in the day, the traffic wasnt quite so claustrophobic, and he quickly found the wind essence he needed. He also purchased an assortment of other common essences, figuring he had little use for so much coin in the Deep. After several more perusals of likely stalls he gave up on finding a swarm essence. It would have to be another day.

The sun slowly faded behind the city walls, and candles began to flicker on here and there in windows. The smells of roasting meat and vegetables, the strange kind of merriment that only comes from families around dinner tables, began to leak from houses.

The ever-present pigeons flew home to roost for the night, and soon enough the moon was peeking above the enchanted brick encircling the city, casting its own kind of enchantment over it - mundane, but no less beautiful.

It found Tom, perched in a room on the second floor of an inn near the Hunters Hall, gazing out the window and over the city hed called home all his life. The common room below him was rowdy, and the streets outside were quiet. A cool breeze teased his hair about his forehead.

Wayrest. Once home, and home no longer. He thought about when he had manifested Survival, and found he was strangely excited. The Deep Green had its own allure - self-reliance, independence, freedom. And yet he loved Wayrest still. For all it was a prison, it was the only one hed known. Even if it no longer seemed so comfortable. Even if it never had been.

Tom, ten times the fool, still wanted to save it. Not for himself, or for his family, or for the Council, but for the city itself. He still felt this beautiful, ugly, prison deserved saving. Hed just have to do it himself. It wouldnt be the first time hed beaten impossible odds.

As he pondered, his emotions rushed on, a grand river, and he let them flow.

His wisp, bobbing gently just outside the window, happy-looking and pink, strobed deep black.

Tom thought his heart must look the same.