Wrath Reincarnated

JULES

A Few Moments Later…

"Oh yeah!" Rukia bounced on all four paws. "I remember these from a book I read in a past life. Something like a Polyj—"

"Hurry up and take the Panliqueur Potion, children." The Painter beckoned them with a hurried flick of his hand.

Jules sniffed the putrid, bubbling concoction and gagged. "Bottoms up." He pinched his nose and chugged the salty and sour drink down in one gulp. His head buzzed immediately, and an ocular migraine set in that gave him tunnel vision. The muscles in his jaws pulled and tugged, like that terrible sensation he felt whenever he yawned too hard. His hamstrings and calves cramped, and—Oh, Salvos, no—insane heart burn bubbled through his chest, igniting pain worse than his Seal had ever dealt out.

BELCH! And just like that, the pain was gone. Jules studied his own hands, now much rougher and hairier, then glanced up at Cyrus and Katarina. All of them burst out laughing at the others.

"Cy, you curly-headed fuck!" Jules cackled as Cyrus shrank until he was now the shortest in the group for the first time. His long, straight black hair receded back into his skull until it was red and curly, a little like an afro.

"Jules, I hate to say it," New-Cyrus said, "but you managed to get even uglier!" But what set both of the young men off the most, so much so that The Painter had to get involved to focus them again, was Katarina. All glammed-up with makeup—Lip-liner, eye shadow and mascara, foundation, concealer, and, well, yep, that's all the makeup I know—and a frizzy perm to boot. New-Jules doubled over giggling like a child, New-Cyrus fell to the ground cackling, and even Whiskers turned his head to hide his smile from her. Despite her makeover, Old-Katarina's flat brows, flat lips, and flat shoulder posture contrasted with New-Katarina's looks. "Holy Iron Maiden, these things really work! You actually look like a girl now—"

SMACK!

As soon as Cyrus had risen from the ground, he ended up right back there.

"Your new disguises will assure that this mission does not fall back to me, should you compromise yourself, that is." The Painter glared at them all. "Which you should not do."

Jules held up two thumbs, unevenly in the air. Whoah, that's odd. He jostled them around until they were level, getting used to his new body. Hope I don't have to fight anyone.

Relax, Kaizen thought. You've got experience fighting in new bodies. It'll come quicker than you think. But MAN! Kat looks just like my Envy…

"You have four hours, and then the Potion wears off."

"Wow," New-Cyrus said. "This Potion must take a ton of Ryoku, then."

"Ha! No, I can make it last—" He stopped to stare at New-Cyrus, then he winked. "I told you that you'd be leaving before dusk, so time is of the essence. Are you ready for your assignments?"

Everyone nodded, and when New-Jules and -Cyrus turned to check with New-Katarina, they had to stifle laughs again.

"You are to retrieve the man's name only—no further action is required. Jules: You are to infiltrate the Arcanians. Kat: The Guardians. As for you, Cyrus… Your intuition seems to pay off. Go with it wherever it takes you. But remember, children, to be conscious of how much time you have left."

"Alright, team," Jules said. "Be back in three-and-a-half hours, just to be safe." The Painter dismissed Cyrus, then gave Jules and Katarina each a starting point for their Factions. Jules knelt down and pet Rukia's head. "I'll be back soon. You coming with me would be a dead giveaway."

"But, but Whiskers get to go!" Yeah, and Whiskers stays hidden in the shadows, Kaizen thought. You, on the other hand, Little One… "Fine, but I'll be in your mind the whole time. Damn action, wish I could have some."

Jules left her behind and stepped out into the late morning sunlight. You know, Kaizen, I'm not feeling that great after our chat last night. Combine that with my new nightmares, and I'm on edge.

That the only thing that's got you on edge, kiddo?

Focus! There are three Magi, and three pieces of the Sound. The Painter said that numbers are important.

An interesting theory.

You were also friends with three Sins.

Once upon a time…

And presumably not friends with three more.

Well, I actually liked Sloth. Before the end. When you meet him, you'll understand. His target was set on the Apocalypse, and his momentum is incredibly hard to shift.

We've spent years with The Painter. What's your read on him? Do you have any more trust for him? Any less?

I mean I really don't mind him, Rukia thought. It sounded as if it came from under her breath, as if they wouldn't care what she said or thought.

You love violence though! Jules thought.

When we'd hunt in my Cycle, you'd stay in the dark to stalk the prey!

Well excuuuuse me! Hmph.

You could have tried Integrating with Rukia for this mission, instead of taking on this stupid disguise blindly from The Painter.

…Wouldn't that draw more attention with a giant Furry running around?

No you idiot—

He meant Integrate into me as a fox!

Whoah. Am I ready for that?

Absolutely not.

Then why'd you mention it!?

Because if you took the proper time to train, you could sneak around in the shadows of this town.

Hey, you just implied that was a bad trait of mine!

New-Jules stopped and sighed at the front door to the Arcanian Quartermaster's. I should have never learned Telepathy. Guess you won't tell me anything else about this Rune, either.

What, the Unlock Rune? What about it?

Like what's it for, and how do I use it?

"Open the door!" Jules froze. Guess I forgot where I was, what I was doing. Talk to you all soon. The voice shouted at him again, from inside. "Door's unlocked, so fucking come inside, then!" Jules pulled the door open and saw a gruff Arcanian impatiently waiting for him on the other side. "Meeting's in the courtyard. Hurry up or you'll be late."

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"Oh, right." Jules scratched his new stubbly beard. "Slow morning and all." He slid past the unmoving tower of a man and trusted that going down the right hallway was the correct choice. He didn't meet anyone else until he found an exit to the courtyard, where a few dozen Arcanians had all gathered and listened to Argyle's address.

"…And for that reason, we must keep The Painter away from the Tree of Wishes at all costs. Is that absolutely clear?" Everyone around Jules grunted in affirmation, and he followed suit.

Hm, I wonder what he'd wish for? I wonder what I'd wish for. I could ask for answers. Or end the Apocalypse before it starts, even. We could save Lust, if we all get a wish. That'd be a good one, but maybe not the best if we could solve that problem with another wish. The Painter asked us how we can exploit the System, I wonder how we could exploit the Tree of Wishes…

"…And as a result of that, the Elders placed up a blockade in the Arcane Divide to anticipate his arrival." Uh huh. Argyle is playing both sides, I see. Could he be the traitor? It's more likely that we're all just pawns in The Painter's game.

"Who is this man, and why is he here?" another Arcanian asked. You look important. Like you held an important position but have grown too old, and had to pass it on to the next generation. Though maybe you are one of these Elders I've been hearing so much about.

"He's an old friend of mine," Argyle said. "I trust him here in the Enclave, but not with the Tree. He's here to Shrine hunt." Several men spat and grunted. Others shifted, and Anya's warning of war crept into Jules' mind.

"Pretty far away from the nearest Shrine," the older Arcanian said. Oh, he's suspicious of you.

"But he's headed north soon." NAME studied the widened eyes of all the men, and hovered on Jules' gaze for a moment too long. Surely The Painter filled you in on me being here—right?

"Riftwatch Outpost," the geezer said in a harsh, hushed voice.

"But wasn't that one reserved for Wrath?"

Uh… What? Reserved for Wrath? What do they mean? Oh come on Kaizen, Rukia, you bastards, don't be silent now—What does that mean!? Wait, why is everyone staring at me?

Every single Arcanian turned to look at Jules. He kept his cool as well he could, meeting each of their gazes, trying not to show any shock or fear. "Well?" Argyle asked. He must have asked me a question and I missed it, dammit.

"Oh, I—I agree."

"What?" Argyle asked. The older man crossed his arms. "I asked what do you make of that?" If you're asking me, there's no way you don't know who I am. Anya's words struck him again.

"I think we need to preserve The Verdant Domain's resources from outside forces?" The elder nodded at Jules, and Argyle smiled mischievously at him.

"I am certain you do. And right you are. I believe this meeting is adjourned, then. We will split you up into your task forces, each designed to aid the Nomads in keeping Riftwatch Outpost safe from…foreigners."

Jules tried to swallow the lump in his throat, then split off with some other men. He definitely meant that for me, but if he hasn't said anything yet, it must be safe to continue.

"Right, Cleetus," a man said to Jules. "We will be responsible for guarding the Shrine itself." Jules snuck a peek at Argyle, who held onto that same grin. You put me here on purpose? So like…

"Where is that again?" Jules asked his fellow task force mate. The man thumped him on the back of the head.

"By the lake in the forest, outside the depot. You'd know if you weren't late, like always." Ah, the perfect disguise. If this was that easy, then…

"Can I see that on a map?" The Arcanian rolled his eyes, then unrolled a map and pointed to the Shrine. Its marker bore the numeral 7.

"There, you dense, nepotistic…"

Northwest of us, and northwest of Riftwatch Outpost. Shouldn't be too hard to remember with only one lake. Jules' eyes scanned the map before the Arcanian rolled it back up to catch a glimpse of any other Shrines marked with 7 or 1, but all he managed to make out was a golden tree marker directly to the west of Eldertree Enclave, in the heart of The Verdant Expanse, before the map was rolled back up.

So we go west to the Tree of Wishes first, then head up north to Riftwatch Outpost and snag the second piece of the Sound. Then we can still go east to Sylvan Hollow if we don't get Lust at the Tree. Man, I'm pretty good at this spy game. Maybe I should consider a different Class?

You continue to fumble your way into success, Kaizen thought.

I should try to take that map next…

No!

"I hate traveling. Wish we were guarding the Tree instead," the Arcanian complained.

"Yeah, I wouldn't trust That Painter further than I could throw him," Jules said.

"I hate that place," another Arcanian said. "Gives me the creeps, the Arcane Divide does."

"If The Painter goes to the Tree, he won't make it out, and all our hard work and travel will be wasted."

"Why's that?" Jules asked. Both of them looked at him like he was some dense idiot, which actually felt a little familiar to him.

"Because the Gates to the Underworld would swallow him whole, you… Sweet Salvos." The lead Arcanian of their group walked away, shaking his head. "The hell did I do to get Cleetus in my post?" Jules noticed the other man still staring at him.

"Haha, oh yeah…"

CYRUS

Hmm, what to do, what to do… I could follow Jules or Kat?

Eh, no. They're safe, and Kat would be pissed, and I'm not trying to feel the rage over whatever Jules did to spike her fury this morning. I swear, whoever assigns the Sins got those two mixed up.

I'd like to follow The Painter, but I doubt that'd bear fruit. He's probably counting on it, honestly.

Jules got the Arcanians, Kat got the Guardians, and there are no other Factions here. Except this Elementalist spy. They do have a Scholars outpost here, but that would be stupid to risk my safety.

Cy strolled through the town, and no one seemed to recognize him. Just like with the two boys The Painter had framed as Jules and himself back in Aquilantis, Cy wondered if his new identity was a real person or not—and if he were real, where he currently was. The only interesting sight he passed was a street lined with Merchants.

How will I actually set up my line of trade with the Etherealists, so I can stay in touch with them? I started in Aquilantis by dealing in staples, like food and Ryoku Crystals, but I've lost my front woman. Cy paused in the street, and people ran into him from behind. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"Watch where you're going!"

"You watch where—You ran into me!" Cy shouted at the pair of men, and they scurried off into the crowd. You need to cool it, Cy, and not think about Selene. She's not here to help anymore, so focus.

I bought low and sold high, and ran around like a madman on my days off, then taking advantage of the casino's time dilation at night. Man, those were some crazy days. Eventually I switched to luxury goods through pawning, but I hated that, so what do I want to sell now?

Knowledge, for one. And I need a distribution channel for that. Another idea is I could arbitrage Faction-specific goods and resources. The Elementalists don't have any weapons or armor, and they certainly have a lot here. I wonder if they have good medicine here? And do I really want to be an arms dealer?

Doesn't really matter either way. I need funding to get off the ground.

"Hey," Cy asked a Merchant. "Where can I buy some medicine?"

"Oh, what for, child?" The old lady leaned forward to him, eager to offer some help, or possibly just have a conversation.

"Anything, really."

"Well, now, that's certainly an odd question around these parts."

"And why is that?"

"Because Chief Argyle approves all trade in Eldertree Enclave. You might want to go ask him." Never a coincidence with The Painter.

"Thank you, I'll go do just that."

Cy returned to the Headquarters he'd left, hours before their communal deadline, and found it empty. Not even Rukia had stayed behind. Cy crept around the living quarters until he spotted The Painter's room. He cracked open the door and snuck a peek inside. Empty, and bigger than the central war room, as they called it.

The bedroom and its contents were much messier than Cy had expected. Guy seems like some minimalistic clean freak on the surface, but the man likes his clutter. Books piled high on a table to the point of tipping over. Rolls of paper and maps, scrap pieces of parchment with scribbled notes, and paintings of people Cy had never met were scattered across every surface imaginable. In one corner sat a pile of flushed Ryoku Crystals. In another stood a wardrobe that Cy assumed traveled with The Painter. Definitely doesn't match the architecture or style here. He tried to pry it open, but it was locked shut and tight.

Well, I'm supposed to find a name for this assignment. I failed with the Elementalist before I even started… But maybe I'll find yours.

Cy studied the names of each of the books' titles for anything that stood out. Davy Jones on The Iron Maiden; The Iron Maiden, In Her Own Words; both by the Sylvan Publishing House, and Headed Nowhere: Essays on The System by Magnus Tharlsson were the only volumes that struck his interest, but didn't seem to confirm any suspicions. An Alter carrying books about other Alters seems pretty normal to me. I know I'd have some in my home—if I'd ever had one.

Cy shifted through the desk's paperwork. Underneath a detailed map of Lustris Haven, he found a lock that bore the Harbormasters' emblem. This reminds me of the chest Isolda stole in Coralhaven from the Navigators—Wait a minute…

He approached the corner with all the Ryoku Crystals and knelt down to inspect them. He pulled one of his own out from his Inventory, the one he carried that they'd stolen from Isolda. Cy lifted them up to the light. They're very similar, but this still doesn't prove anything. Nowhere… Where is—

Cy spun around, then he tossed The Painter's Ryoku Crystal back in with the others and pocketed his own. He hurried back to the stack of books and picked out Magnus Tharlsson's. The other books on Alters collapsed to the floor.

"Headed Nowhere," Cy read aloud. He opened the volume and fanned through the pages. A faint scent rose up, and he pressed his nose right into the book's spine. What the…lilac? "Who the fuck are you?"

The floorboards creaked behind him.

"Hello, there Cyrus! Find what you were looking for, eh?"