The Grand Weave

Coming to a stop next to a food vendor's stall, I casually flipped a few silver coins onto the table. The older man in blue garb looked up in surprise but quickly hid the emotion with a polite smile.

"That's a lot of money, sir. Was there something specific you'd like to buy?" he asked with a friendly gesture toward the packages of salted meat.

I flashed a smile and leaned in. "Oh, there's so much to choose from. But I think I'm hungry for some riverknell knuckler. A nice fat one, please."

The man's lips twitched and he gave me a second glance. I kept most of my appearance the same as usual, which left me more dressed than what's common here in the port city, but nothing extreme. It turned out, jackets were a fashion staple no matter what world you visited.

Of course, my main features were hidden thanks to the beastkin illusion from the enchanted earrings I wore. So I truly wasn't out-of-place in the city.

Whatever the man saw was enough as his smile dropped into a frown. "I'm sorry, sir, we are out of that particular fish. A hot commodity, as you know. May I suggest some solstrama pike instead? Same flavor, and just as delicious."

"That'd be perfect, thank you. And keep the change."

The man bowed and reached under the table. His hands brought out a small wrapped package no larger than my palm and handed it over while sweeping the coins into his apron. After completing the transaction, he dipped his leather hat and waved me off.

I moved toward the nearby tavern and sliced through the package with my finger. The small, green-metal coin that dropped into my hand fit the one in Rigger's memory.

Entering the tavern, it looked fairly normal considering the clientele. A mixed batch of adventurers, sailors, and even a few guardsmen. Most were engrossed with their business, but more than a few eyes watched me like a hawk the moment I entered.

Ignoring them all, I moved to the barkeep and tapped the counter with the coin.

The large, purple-scaled lizardman grunted and moved closer. He glanced at the coin in my hand but simply leaned forward with a scowl. "Drink of choice?"

"House special," I replied with a shrug.

The lizardman set a mug down and filled it with a dark alcohol that smelled like piss. "Be warned, that stuff hits hard if you're not used to it."

With that, he grabbed a dirty towel and moved to the other side of the bar. A few hooded men sat on one side conversing without looking my way except I caught the tell-tale sign of a skill activate. The small rat in the corner had its eyes replaced with a shimmer of purple, but it remained in place, watching.

Sniffing the mug, I debated just excusing myself, but Eraztis's words came flooding in. With a sigh, I took a sip and felt the liquid burn the instant it touched my tongue. It tasted only a smidge better than it smelled.

For the next few minutes, I nursed the cup and took a few sips. After the eighth, I paused and then clutched my stomach while grimacing. Slowly, I got up and stumbled to the bathroom and locked the door behind me.

Quickly hurrying to the sink, I spat the foul concoction and used the enchanted gem to rinse my mouth out before it dissolved.

Like battery acid and barley after being regurgitated. How in the hells do they drink this stuff?

Looking up, I lifted my chin and stuck out my tongue. Beyond being forced to drink piss sold as alcohol, so far things were within normal expectations.

My eyes drifted over to the faint outline of glowing purple underneath an upturned bucket. Looking past it, I went to the opposite wall and pretended to look around. A few carefully placed knocks got the wall to retract and expose a large stone staircase below.

As I stepped onto the first step, the runes lining the walls pulsed. The mana expanded, covering me in a brief scan from head to toe. Upon touching the coin, the mana mixed and the coin released a separate ping that deactivated the arming rune in the chain.

The wall slid back into place, cutting off the staring from the purple-eyed rodent.

I sighed and summoned my mask, slipping it on.

"Why does every underground crime den need to be so annoying with their entrances?" I grumbled.

From the moment I processed Rigger's memories, the more annoyed I felt. It wasn't like the steps to enter the place were that discreet. Secret food vendors, specific drink orders, the whole 'totally not watching you but of course I am watching you' mercenaries, it all felt so… tropey.

Looking up, the runes weren't even well-hidden. They were crafted in the open, carved right into the stone with no concealing runes to mask the network.

I scoffed and raised my tail. The arrow-like tip snaked toward a specific rune, one that matched the coin. Three concentric rings folded inward in a u-shaped indent that sprouted thicker lines like a shower. Even now, mana welled underneath the stone, fueling the adjoining chains.

Using galarion's control, I pulled up a perfect replica of the cut rune from the journal. Eraztis always said that it should be instinctual, that learning it like a language is the first step. But even a child learns to speak without thinking of the rules.

Threading mana into another skillwisp sent a slight twinge in my chest that filtered down my right arm, but I kept the mana stable and controlled.

Instinct, is will in the subconscious. I am not drawing the rune like a painter. I am in control, I speak the language and evoke its creation. The magic already exists; I am giving it form.

More twinges came as I pushed mana into the threads and pushed into the skillwisp in my soul. A few seconds, then ten, then a couple dozen before the discomfort abated.

Breathing in and then out, I relaxed and activated Absolute Authority.

The words that came out of my mouth distorted the air like a sharp blade. The mana I held back flooded in and formed a glowing rune along the crystal. Twitching left a faint trail that whistled sharply. Smiling, I speared the rune embedded into the wall and sliced through the u-shaped part. I carved through it as easy as butter, carving past the materials used to set the rune while retracting my tail.

As soon as I saw the rune spew mana outward, I erased the cut rune on my tail and pulled up another.

It wasn't one of the runes I first learned during bath time several months ago, but another. I had less practice but that was fine. According to Eraztis, this was more about flexing my skill and less about being precise.

The uneven distribution of mana from the cut of the central rune meant that parts of the chain were lit up. Some were overburdened, having too much mana fill its thinner lines and causing damage.

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Once a specific section of the wall lit up, one that led down the stairwell, I tapped my tail against the wall and activated Absolute Authority for a second time. Two half-moons appeared, connected by a diamond in the center. The rune burned and my tail cracked once, before I got the mana under control.

The effects on the wall were far more effective, as each similar rune in the sequence flashed once and smoked as the stone started to erode. It was like watching a string of christmas lights pop one bulb at a time.

Galarion giggled, filling my thoughts with an overlaid image of heads going pop.

That curbed some of my excitement as I rapt my knuckles against my temple.

Rolling my shoulders, I kept the threads of mana connected to the rune skill and was ready to summon the rest of my gear but stopped.

They expect swords and casters. Nobles love them. But if I carry my spear around… Ugh.

Settling for a dagger I bought off a trade caravan a month back, I kept it in my sleeve and started leisurely down the stairwell.

Runes flared on the way down, my tail tapping along on beat. After a minute of walking, I heard the first sounds of life. Nearing the final step, I wrapped my tail around my waist and shaped my mask to that of a bird, picking red and gold ink to outline the shape.

Next to a heavy, metal door, an armored guard leaned against the wall. The metal was dull grey, standard half-plate. His helmet was connected to a leather hood that fully masked his appearance.

He looked casual, but upon sighting me his hands drifted to a thin metal rod near his belt along with the pommel of a sword on the opposite side.

His aura was a pathetic rust-colored flame in the center of his chest, barely noticeable if I hadn't focused on what I saw.

When I came within ten meters, he held up his hand. "Halt. Name and password."

I stopped and lowered my chin in a slight bow. "I am Sparrow."

His fingers tightened on the wand when I didn't continue.

"Password," he repeated, his voice firm.

"May the sun shine over the cherry waves," I said, mimicking Rigger's memory of accompanying his captain.

The man relaxed his grip and visibly calmed as he examined me.

"You're new. Who's your recommender?"

I cocked my head. While it wasn't surprising for him to ask, generally information was on a need to know basis. Telling him who recommended me would be equivalent to endorsing what faction I sided with.

Sensing my hesitation, he shook his head and held up a hand, placatingly. "I'm just a guard. I'm loyal to the Dealer, and nobody else. He likes to know about any new faces that fill his den."

Acting relieved but restrained, I nodded. "The lady of chains is my recommender. Favorable deals went well, and I'm new to port. On her suggestion, I try my luck here to find… enthusiasts for the items I couldn't sell."

"Chains? Oh, her," he said with a grimace. Catching what he did, he shook his head. "Are you friends then?"

I laughed. "As if. Merely mutual acquaintances. If I find enthusiasts, that's more in my pocket to stock what she wants. That's all."

"I see. Makes sense. She's a cold one, but smarter than half the folks here."

I eyed the guard. Even with Rigger's memories, this guard was speaking more than expected. It was a level of open brassiness that should have had him sacked. Or, if Rigger's suspicions on the head honcho were correct, the guard should at least know to mind his tongue.

So why was he being so open to a complete stranger?

I cleared my throat. "Well, if you don't mind. I have new faces to meet tonight."

After gesturing to the door, the guard lowered his head.

Mana activated along an inner stitch of his hood, and purple light zipped through and behind him. I shifted my shoulders, letting the handle of the knife press against my palm.

The mana returned and the guard stiffened.

Thankfully, he sighed and crossed his arms rather than move toward his weapons.

"Lucky for you, an opportunity has arisen. The boss is curious as to exactly what kind of goods you are looking to trade. If they are within his interests, he'd like to make a deal directly. Avoid all the hassle of having to mingle without promise. Understand?"

"I see," I said, allowing a pause for hesitation. "Would you like to see them?"

At this, his fingers flexed, subtly shifting toward the caster. "Bring something out, nothing too dangerous. If it's acceptable, I'll guide you to the boss himself."

Smiling underneath the mask, I raised my left hand and held out my palm. The so-called Dealer was rather restrained when it came to underground tycoons. Shady bastards with strict rules so they never get caught.

Reminded me of the old mafia type, back on Earth.

Picturing the mental space that was my inventory, I sorted through the junk. No weapons, no drugs. It had to be worthwhile, and tradeable. Overtly luxurious, perhaps something more refined and fancy.

Settling on a gilded chest, I paused. Brief memories and emotions flashed, reminding me of a different time.

That'll do.

Summoning the chest, I gently brought the box closer and opened the lid. Inside rested a shiny gemstone, one that glowed from within. The plush, blue pillow had embroidery that few would recognize. But I had a hunch about this so-called "guard."

Gotcha.

The man froze as he looked past the skillstone and at the box itself. Almost instantly, the same string of mana appeared around his hood and shot outward. When it returned, the guard cleared his throat.

"I underestimate the captain of chains," he admitted. "How many of these… treasures do you have?"

"More than a few. All from the same source."

"I see."

There was a brief pause as more telepathic threads shot out. Rapid conversation was being held and the guard stayed stiff as a statue for more than a dozen seconds. Eventually he stiffened even more and gestured to the stone.

"Has this been identified?"

I shook my head. "Not yet. I lack the skill. But I have an idea of what it can do. Thanks to special enchantments from the container, one can channel some mana to manifest the stone's skill. It's merely a hint, a small preview. But I think it is worth a look."

"Show me," he demanded.

I held out the box, staying in position. "Here, you should do the honors to prove it is not a trick of mine. You can feel your mana enter the device and activate. Fairly simple, even a child can do so."

The plated guardsmen hesitated. Even without seeing his face, his aura started to falter and I can barely hear the whispers of his thoughts echoing out.

He needed a push.

I began to close the box and sighed. "I see. If I am to be entering a place under this much scrutiny, then perhaps I'll save myself the trouble. A goodnight, sir guardsman. May your boss find-"

"Wait! Hand it to me," he snapped. "You are new, so let me give you some advice. The boss controls this city. You do not sell without his permission if he so desires it. Understand?"

I hefted the chest in reply and waited.

In annoyance I could hear the man grumble in his head. Carefully, but with the confidence of someone who thought they were secure in their position of power, he reached for the box and lowered his guard.

The moment he touched the polished gold, I grabbed onto his wrist and stepped into his reach. To his credit, he was well trained. He managed to free his caster and raise it in time, but my palm slammed into the side of his head and pushed through the metal sockets.

Galarion guided my mana, and together I thrusted a ball of mana directly into his mind. Curiously, his aura flared in response, growing as if to repel my mana, but I crushed it underneath a flood of my own.

In seconds, the tall, broad-shouldered guard slumped forward as his muscles went slack. I guided him to the wall and forced him to lean and stand in his original position while Galarion continued to sink the mental tendrils around my fingers deeper into his head.

"Aaauggggh. Nooo. Muuuu–"

I leaned forward and whispered in his ear as I grabbed at a few choice memories and pre-arranged for this attack.

I called it the "trauma-spike."

Shoving them in, his brain slowed even more as he started to shake. Whatever willpower he had to try fighting off my intrusion, it shattered with a silent scream. Using my other hand, I grabbed the other side of his head and closed my eyes.

The next part was tricky but that was part of the fun.

"Now. You're going to contact your boss again, and tell him what you discovered. That Sparrow has multiple high-grade skillstones directly from the royal vaults. Alright?"

"Yeeesss…" came the zombie-like reply.

It was hard, but Galarion did most of the work as he guided my mana into specific parts of the man's brain. In reality, it was the mental equivalent of hitting him with a spiked bat rather than the dexterous and clean precision Galarion could do naturally.

I only needed information without much regard to the scumbag, so the bat worked just fine.

The telepathic communication was from an enchanted earring in his right ear, but it was thankfully easy to activate.

When the reply came back from the boss, I filtered the message and grinned. The guard was instructed to bring me to a specific room inside the hall.

I glanced at the pile of drool starting to slip from his mouth. Not wanting to waste time, I had Galarion copy over the batch of memories and sent the information in the background for him to sort through while I plucked the relevant information.

Retracting the semi-physical tendrils from the guard's head, I stood up and brushed off my jacket. Before letting the man go, I removed his earring and weapons before patting his shoulder.

The man grumbled sleepily as he closed his eyes. Impressive enough, he managed to stay standing while doing it.

Shaking my head, I slapped my tail against the door and deactivated its lock. Slipping inside, I left the guard behind. I had enough playing shady smuggler. I wasn't a rogue for a reason, too much cringe.

Galarion sent over an impression and chuckled.

He was right; we had a feast to harvest. Why hide our hunger?