S4S

Noticing that the group of vicious Mystics were beginning to leave the bloodied scene, Locke let the cigarette in his mouth fall nimbly to the ground, before grinding the ashes and embers under his heavy boot onto the wooden highway. As he did so, with hands in his pockets and a casual demeanor, Locke turned slightly to glance down the street behind him. Near the corner of one of the intersections a couple of buildings down, he noticed a figure quickly duck out of sight as they disappeared back into one of the side streets. The individual had only been in view for half a second, but Locke already had a strong idea of who it was that would be following him. Frowning to himself, Locke sighed before turning back towards the rouge Mystics, who had now begun making their way deeper into the maze of walkways and buildings. Slipping his way silently around the edges of the mortified crowd that still lingered around the eviscerated Pacis, Locke began to walk in the general direction of the dangerous Mystics, keeping a comfortably safe distance as to not provide any indication or intention that he was tailing them.

Locke watched the violence unfold between the rouge group Mystics with quiet eyes. Standing a few paces back from the rest of the crowd that had gathered around the display of anarchy, he stood casually with his hands in his jacket and a newly lit cigarette hanging loosely from the corner of his mouth. After leaving Cheap Shot, Locke had strolled aimlessly throughout the city, whistling softly to himself as he traversed the walkways that stretched across Odhak in a pattern of organized chaos. Like ancient monoliths covered in creeping vines, the wooden highways tumbled and twisted between the buildings and over the canals. As the path he walked evolved with every step, Locke would find himself balancing atop skyscrapers one minute, then lurking through the slums along the water’s edge the next. It had been the shouting of the Pacis a few buildings over though that had sparked the dim curiosity within Locke, deviating him from his undetermined course to find the source of such public outcry and frenzy. The intrigue that had brought him here had quickly died however, alongside the bodies of the officers now lying strewn across the highway in pools of their own blood that dyed the wood crimson. Now, as if they were predators glorying in their meager kill, the Mystics had begun fighting among themselves like rabid dogs. This wasn’t right. Expelling a cloud of smoke from his lungs, Locke looked on at the Mystics through the vapors curling in front of his expressionless face.

Striking his thumb down on the flint wheel, Locke moved the newly lit flame from his steel lighter to the end of the cigarette held loosely on his lips. Watching as the end of the stick slowly began to burn, he waited until the orange embers glowed into a soft amber before flicking the cover back onto his lighter and returning it to the inside of his jacket. Closing his eyes as he breathed in deeply, Locke imagined as though all his thoughts and feelings were collecting together inside him, merging as one with the single breath that filled his lungs. Lazily opening his weary eyes, Locke then watched as his exhale released both smoke and stress out into the static air. Leaning against the counter at one of the barstools within Cheap Shot, Locke stared blankly ahead as he listened to the slow jazz coming from the group of young musicians on the far side of the bar. The lights within the establishment had been dimmed, with all of the tables and chairs turned towards the performing artists that stood under a single spotlight on a meager stage. It was an interesting composition, with long drawn-out notes from a lonely saxophone lingering in the smoky atmosphere, yet complimented with the gentle taps from a tambourine and soft, indistinct chanting in an unknown tongue like that of a tribal prayer. Locke let himself melt into his surroundings, feeling shrouded in the muggy air that smelled of burnt cigarettes, and enveloped in the rolling rhythms of unique song. Removing the cigarette from his mouth briefly with nimble fingers, Locke took a sip of the whiskey cocktail in front of him, feeling the same burning at the back of his throat that reminded him of nights from long ago in a distant life. It all felt so familiar, with all the sensations and feelings poking at his thoughts as though to pry old memories back from where they lay stored in the corners of his mind – buried deep, but never forgotten. The crack of gunshots. A knife to the heart. The sensation of falling. Endlessly, endlessly, falling… Expelling smoke from his lips once more, Locke closed his eyes and listened as the music carried on. Several minutes passed before the song drew to a close, followed by a gentle ripple of applause that washed over the booths and tables behind where Locke sat. Placing what remained of his used cigarette into an empty ash tray, Locke rose from his seat, casually raised his cup towards the performers on stage, then finished the rest of his glass before placing it and a couple of bills back onto the counter. Turning to make his way towards the nearest exit, Locke straightened his jacket as he started weaving his way through a set of tables towards the door. Out of the corner of his eye though, he noticed a group of men sitting in one of the booths on the far end of the wall. While some of the men seemed to be watching him with eyes that were too keen for his liking, Locke simply ignored the unwanted stares as he reached the door and slipped outside, only to be immediately blinded by the overhead sun. It wasn't night anymore... just how long had he been inside? Locke rubbed the pain from his eyes as they tried to adjust to the sudden overwhelming light. After blinking a few times and focusing his vision, he took a deep breath of cleaner air as he stood on the doorstep just outside Clear Shot. Casually glancing around at the network of pathways suspended above the canals, Locke picked a random direction before making his way down the steps and onto the wooden walkway. Then Locke started walking, resting both of his hands inside the pockets of his jacket as he softly whistled lazily to the song he had heard inside the bar only moments ago.

Looking on with an aura of wonder at the magical diagram that was spread across the library floor, Ni timidly stepped forward as he reached his arm outward toward where the first adventurer had walked into the portal. As his fingers brushed against the light radiating from the glyph, they slowly became transparent and faded. At the startling sight, Ni quickly retracted his hand away from the diagram’s glow, but watched in awe as his fingers solidified once more. He snapped his fingers a few times to test, and sure enough: they were completely solid again. Glancing up at the portal once more, the young boy eagerly stepped forward as he slowly extended his arm out once more. He stretched himself further this time, watching as first his fingers, then his whole hand and part of his arm began to disappear from reality. With mixed feelings of both excitement and courage, Ni shuffled his foot forward as he took one step inside the diagram. A muffled noise of glee almost escaped the hood over his face as he watched his whole arm and half his body vanish before his eyes. Taking one last step into the magic portal, Ni turned to look back at Cara, Val, and the other adventurers before completely disappearing into the diagram. Then Ni’s vision went black.

Having followed Cara and Felicity into the library, Ni glanced at the intricate pattern spread across the floor. Continued to loosely hold the edges of the bag over his head with a nimble hand, the small boy gave a shallow nod with an air of awe and slight confusion.

Ni paused for a moment; that was a lot of questions with varying answers. So while it may not have answered all of those questions, Ni simply gave a slow thumbs-up before gesturing up the stairs towards where the others might still be waiting. He was just about to drop his arm back down to his side though when Ni noticed Cara moving towards him. He didn't feel any danger or a need to evade Cara's approach, but judging by the last question she had asked and the motions she was making, Ni cautiously grabbed the end of the bag that covered his head to prevent it being taken off as he silently watched Cara's hand.

Looking up suddenly as though stirred from a deep slumber of thoughts, Ni glanced over at Cara and nodded a few times. Carefully sliding along the edge of the wall, the hooded boy moved to let Cara and Felicity continue up the stairway; he would follow slowly behind as he still didn't feel very well.

Having worked his way past the others and into the hallway to follow Cara, Ni didn’t make it very far before he stopped to rest on one of the steps in the stairwell, leaning his shoulder against the wall with his head propped limply onto it. It wasn’t so much the exhaustion as it was the stinging pain and discomfort of the frozen muscles in his limbs being forced to move that left Ni feeling drained and lethargic. It always reminded him of when an arm or leg of his would sit at a funny angle for too long and fall asleep; only the sensation lingered all across his body, and it felt much worse. After a moment or two, Ni saw Cara and Felicity making their way back up through the tower. Rolling his body so his back leaned against the wall, Ni exhaled softly. Honestly, he had no idea. The Shadow had been pretty definitive about his standpoint when Cara had first asked him about, and Ni honestly wasn’t too sure what this quest actually was. Something about finding a dragon? There had been a dragon outside though, but Ni guessed it wasn’t the one they were looking for… Ni shrugged his shoulders.

Loosely grabbing the nearest countertop, Ni gave a few shallow nods as he steadied himself. Ni glanced at Val's hand as she placed it on his shoulder. Briefly looking up at Val, then back down at her hand, Ni lifted his other hand to rest it on Val's. There was a slight hesitation as he gently grabbed Val's hand, but Ni felt it was the right thing to do. Turning a little further to look back over his shoulder, Ni softly nodded at Cara.

Pulling his jacket around him tighter, Ni lowered his gaze to "the shadow's" feet. The man's words spoke a painful truth. Visions flashed across Ni's clouded mind, with memories full of pointing fingers and whispers from those who had seen him come back from the dead in years past. Possessed. Demon. Cursed child. Monster. Nightmare. Ni had heard them all, and in time, he had come to believe them. After all, they hadn't been wrong... Ni paused at Cara's sudden defense. He hadn't expected anyone to speak on behalf of him, and Cara's statement came as a surprise to Ni; he couldn't remember the last time someone had stood up for him after seeing him come back to life. From the back of his mind, a thought softly poked at Ni's conscience. Recognizing the thought to be a certain memory though, he quietly locked it away for the time being. It wasn't a bad memory at all but... Ni didn't know what to think of it right now... Some of the adventurers had begun making their way towards a supposed library and some mysterious portal. Ni wasn't sure what any of it meant, or how much of it he had missed after he- well... how much he might have missed yesterday. With some of the others though, there appeared to be a sense of urgency. Ni slid his legs out from under him in an effort to stand, unsure if he would be joining or welcome with the others. Regardless, Ni still felt the need to move. A muffled grunt of pain almost escaped Ni's lips as the muscles in his legs began to cramp at the sudden movement. A long time ago, Doctor had called it "rigor mortis", and he had told Ni that his body had to fight to reverse this effect whenever he came back to life. Ni didn't quite understand what that meant, but he had found through past experience that it usually took a couple of hours before he felt "normal" again. While his neck and torso had slowly stopped aching, Ni's arms and legs still ached whenever he moved, and his hands and fingers continued to feel cold and stiff whenever he tried to open them. Seeking to push the pain aside, Ni pushed himself to stand on staggering feet.

Placing the strange notebook back into his jacket as he heard the others approaching, Ni hesitantly looked up at the kitchen doorway. Although he didn’t meet their eyes, he noticed Valzwyn was now standing in the doorframe, and that the “plate man” and another one of the adventurers Ni had seen yesterday was standing behind her. Wrapping his arms around himself as he continued to kneel on the floor, Ni said nothing as he pulled the edges of his damp jacket tighter around his body, almost as though he were trying to hide within the oversized coat he wore.

Solemnly closing the notebook while dropping his hands in his lap, Ni slowly nodded.

"Have you ever died before?" Ni asked quietly.

Feeling Cara’s hand comfortingly across his back, Ni stopped shaking his head as he immediately froze in place. Through all the pain and the tempest of feelings that tore through Ni, somehow Cara’s simple gesture stood firm as an anchor in his storm of emotions. The feelings that bore him down still remained, but at least Ni knew that he wasn't completely lost to them. When had he ever deserved such kindness? Clenching his hands into fists, Ni sought to find whatever fragments of courage remained within him. Although he continued to kneel in the puddle at his feet, Ni slowly pushed himself upright to sit on his knees. He didn’t have the strength to meet Cara’s eyes, but perhaps Ni could guide his shattered bravery elsewhere. Reaching inside his oversized coat, Ni pulled a small notebook from a pocket sewn inside his jacket, hidden in the same place where he had been holding his hand to his chest only moments before. The book was fairly small in size; no more than a handspan tall and just over half a handspan wide. It was made of a worn but simple leather cover which held a set of thin pages that had turned coarse and yellow with the passage of time. Strangely though, nearly three quarters of the notebook’s pages were bound together by a delicate looping of thin string that was wound around the pages from top to bottom. The strands that tied the pages together had become slightly frayed though, indicating that the pages and their secrets within had been sealed for some time now. That only left a handful of pages at the back of the book remained unbound to be openly read. Flipping the notebook over in his hands to reveal the back cover, Ni hesitated for a moment as he brushed his thumb across the old leather backing. It felt as though an eternity passed as Ni held the book in his unsteady hands. Finally finding the courage to do so, Ni held his breath as he opened the notebook. The very last page of the book had dark lines drawn across it in what appeared to be a drawing of sorts, but Ni moved quickly past it without pausing. The next few pages though were empty, with no words nor markings on any portion of them. Continuing through the unbound pages in reverse order though, Ni turned each page faster and faster, anxiety rising within him right up to where he stopped on a set of marked pages. With trembling hands, Ni hesitated momentarily before turning the notebook for Cara to see. The open pages of the notebook revealed dozens of vertical lines that had been drawn with a mysterious dark ink. It quickly became clear that the lines were tally marks, as all of the lines were clustered together into groups of five as they spread across the pages. There were one hundred and thirty-six bold tally marks… …and Ni’s one hundred and thirty-seventh mark still hadn’t finished drying yet.

Curling his body further to rest his forehead on the ground, Ni tucked his arms close to the sides of his body. Clutching his jacket near his chest tightly with one hand, he raised the other hand to his lips hidden behind his hood as he continued to shake his head back and forth, again and again in silent defiance.

Ni flinched; he hadn’t looked up to see who was in the doorway after they had screamed, but he knew that voice from yesterday. Pulling himself tighter as he knelt on the wet ground, a wave of emotions swept through Ni as he heard Cara speak. Not daring to meet her eyes though, Ni simply shook his head through trembling hands. No, they had not buried Ni alive.

At the sudden shout of horror coming from the kitchen’s doorway, Ni’s head snapped up as he jumped in fright. Moving by instinct, he spun quickly to face the source of the terrified scream. But as Ni’s boots swept across the slick puddle at his feet, his legs shot out from beneath him in a disoriented manner as he crashed to the wet floor; he hadn’t been able to even get a clear glance of who was in the doorway before slamming his elbow and the side of his head hard against the ground with a muffled grunt. Sprawled out on his stomach as he lay on the pool of water on the floor, the panic in Ni seemed to melt away as it was replaced with new emotion. Softly exhaling from behind he hood over his face, the small boy rolled lethargically onto his knees as he rested his arms on the ground to hold his head in his hands. There was a slight recoil in his posture as his back arched while he knelt on the wet ground, grasping the sides of his covered face with bone-white knuckles in an appearance of pain and frustration.

At the far end of the Wizard Tower’s alcove kitchen, a small cobblestone oven was built into the back corner of the room. Constructed in the shape of a wide dome with an arched opening near the front, it was a perfectly sized kitchen stove for baking breads and intricate dishes. On most mornings the old oven would have nothing more than cold ash and charcoal remains left behind from the day before. This particular morning though, a fire had already been lit using a stack of tinder off to the side by the base of the stove. Light orange flames curled across the dry wood inside the furnace, swirling light and heat in gentle curls as the fire danced with contentment. Standing alone in front of the oven was Ni. Living… breathing… Ni. Transfixed on the flickering flames within the furnace, his hands hovered just in front of the stove’s opening as he stood watching the fire quietly. Wearing the same oversized coat and boots from yesterday, Ni had even found and replaced the burlap hood back onto his head that he had found discarded the night before. It drooped slightly around the edges though, as both his hood and every piece of clothing on him was damp or soaked. The heat from the oven seemed to be slowly drying him however, as Ni was no longer dripping water into the sizeable puddle that had built up at his feet. Only the sounds of the crackling fire broke the silence that hovered around Ni as he gazed deep into the flames.

A bright summer sun hung amid pale blue skies. Warm light radiated from the heavens above, with a handful of soft white clouds proffering patches of shade to the rolling hills of wild grass below. The clouds moved lazily across the sky, pushed along by a gentle breeze that flowed across the open land and hushed the fields of emerald green. It was only a scattering of oak trees that broke through the endless plains of grass, with their tall branches rustling lightly to the rhythm of the passing wind. Atop one of the larger hills in this field of green, a young girl stood overlooking the landscape that stretched out in front of her. Holding the thatched sun hat that matched her summer dress, San smiled as she deeply breathed in the calming breeze that brushed across her face while curling a loose strand of brown hair behind her ear. Glancing at her feet every so often, San continued to follow the small dirt path that was hidden in the tall grass. The path had started just outside the village where she lived, continuing outward as it spun its way far into the grassy hillside. Weaving its way over cresting hills and gentle valleys, the secluded pathway continued on for some time. After a few more minutes of walking though, San circled one last hill as the trodden path began to meld back into the wild grass. Turning toward the familiar surroundings, the young girl noted the small stream full of memories that split through the fields of luscious green grass, nested between a set of hills deep within the plains. Crystal-clear water gurgled across smooth river-rock, flowing steadily downstream as the sound of trickling water rang softly through the air. Further down along the bank of the small stream, a large oak tree grew with long branches reaching out across the water, providing a comforting source of shade for those who had found this tiny oasis. Moving underneath the ancient limbs of the massive oak, San noticed a small pair of boots that had been dropped at the base of the tree. Gently picking up the discarded shoes, she looked out across the wide-open creek. Standing barefoot in the middle of the clear stream, a small boy stood with his trousers rolled up to his knees. Crouching just above the flowing water, the boy was sweeping his hands back and forth through the chill creek as though he were looking for something. “Ni-i!” San called out. Tilting his head slightly, the small boy turned to look over his shoulder at San. Noticing her standing on the edge of the creek through bright green eyes and a smile that shone even brighter, Ni excitedly spun as he quickly began rushing towards San, splashing and nearly falling into the water on more than one occasion as he hurried back towards the bank. San couldn’t help but laugh at Ni’s childish display; he was only four years younger than San, but where many would consider San to be rather mature for her age, Ni was quite the opposite. The boy seemed to always have his head in the clouds, living in a world all to his own that no one could ever take from him. Clambering up the edge of the stream towards where San stood beneath the oak tree, Ni beamed brightly as he reached into his front pocket, pulling out a small object in an enclosed fist. San reached into one of her own pockets as well, pulling out an object of similar size and weight. Crouching down to Ni’s height, the two extended their enclosed fists towards each other. “Ready?” San asked quietly, “Three… two… one!” At the exact same time, San and Ni opened their hands. In each of their palms was a unique stone with a gold and brown striped pattern, but different in shape and size. Papa had called the stones “tiger eye” long ago, and San could definitely see why as the light danced off the smooth surface of each gemstone, causing the patterned lines to shift like moving fur on a wild cat. Although the stones were very similar, the stone that San held was larger than Ni’s, but Ni’s had smoother edges and curves with less blemishes than the one that San held. “Ooohhh!” San exclaimed softly as she pointed at Ni’s stone, “Yours looks very pretty! I think your stone is one of the smoothest ones that I’ve seen!” Giggling softly, Ni extended the stone out to her while showing his other empty hand. San smiled as she placed the stone that was in her hand into Ni’s open palm before swapping to hold the stone that Ni had been holding. The two then placed the traded stones safely back into their pockets. San didn’t remember when it had first started, but every time Ni wandered off to this hidden stream, he would look among the rocks and pebbles in the creek for a tiger eye stone that was even better than the last one he found. If the stone he found surpassed the beauty of the one he had given to San the time before, he would swap the stone out with the newly discovered one. But on occasion Ni would deem the newest of his discovered stones not good enough to exchange, and San would simply hold onto the same for another day or two until Ni found one he thought was better. San was happy with whatever stone was given her though; big or small, smooth or rough, it didn’t matter to her. The fact that it came from Ni was all that mattered. He was a strange kid, but San would forever love her little brother for that very same reason. “Thank you, Ni!” San whispered enthusiastically as she handed the small shoes she had grabbed earlier back to Ni, “You ready to head home? Mama said Papa would be back soon, and she wanted to see if we could race him home and surprise him. Do you think we can beat him home and hide before he gets back?” Eagerly nodding his head, Ni grabbed the boots from San. Without even pausing to put them on though, Ni simply turned and dashed up the bank of the stream towards the dirt path San had followed earlier to find him. “Ni!” San called out as she rushed after scampering brother, “Ni, your shoes! Mama said-” But it was too late. Already out of earshot, Ni had circled around the hill and disappeared out of sight. Letting out an exasperated sigh, San smiled weakly as she placed her hands on her hips. Sometimes she felt that it was hopeless: that Ni would ever grow up. But then again, who would ever want to grow up. Who would ever want to leave a world where the summer days were long and full of laughter, and the nights full of stars and dreams? San was only eleven years old, but sometimes she felt that even she was getting too close to the world that the grownups lived in. Maybe that was why something as small as finding joy in a simple stone made all the difference… Holding her sun hat tightly as she dismissed the passing thought, San began jogging to see if she could catch up to Ni before Mama found him barefoot with dirty feet again… for the fourth time that week… - - - The nighttime air outside the Wizard’s Tower was brisk and cold, with a winter’s chill that sliced through fabric and pierced to the bone. A slight fog hovered above the frozen ground, and the moonlight cast small refractions of light on the hardened frost and snow. An aura of silence and mystery hung in the air, and it almost felt as if the chill winter’s night had frozen time itself. But from somewhere within the graveyard just beyond the Tower, the air seemed to shift slightly. Like cold steel being bent under extreme stress, it was as if reality itself had begun stretch and warp by an unseen force. A dense aura of unexplainable energy began to build within the small graveyard, increasing in weight and magnitude as the sensation grew stronger and stronger. The air began to feel heavy, and the frost on the ground seemed to sharpen with intensity as the rising energy swelled. Reaching its peak, the looming energy inverted suddenly, shriveling inward on itself as it faded into nothingness. Only a feeling of hollow emptiness remained, as though the Realms themselves had become strained and weary. The draining sensation lingered though, seeming to draw out its influence like the fog that skimmed the winter earth. It was only a matter of moments though before a small hand tore through the dirt, straining upward as it reached toward the moonlit sky.