New Places, Faces, and Races Kill Old Traces (Solo)

[Intiv]

14th of Spring 511 AV Intiv’s mind drifted lazily between memories and imagination as the subtle lurch of the sea kept him from total slumber. His psyche wandered through the countless taverns and bars in familiar cities. Faceless figures, creations of the hypnotist’s mind to fill the rooms, chatted while hunched over their cups or while sitting in the warmth of a fire. Ravok... Syliras... Zeltiva... Their architecture, smell, and feel are familiar but never comfortable... never welcoming. The faceless figures talked incessantly in words the dreamer didn’t comprehend due to either Intiv’s lack of interest or the speech’s lack of meaning. A feeling of quiet dread began to seep into the locations Intiv envisioned. It was the sort of dread that one doesn’t quite realize is dread until it becomes suffocating. The drunkard-filled rooms began housing unwelcome guests that soon became adversaries. Invisible eyes watched from every corners and wall. Ominous figures stood silently at the room’s outskirts waiting. Intiv’s eyes opened abruptly. The dark figures, who Intiv wasn’t sure even existed, chased him out of his nap just as they had chased him out of Sylira. He muttered, “It was all in my head. No one was after me back home.” Suddenly, a view in the distance completely consumed his attention. “I shouldn’t have left Sylira...” The last sentence was merely a completion of the first two sentences, and Intiv wouldn’t have said it if the view hadn’t distracted his mind so much that he wasn’t aware of what he was saying. From a small window in ship’s side, the city of Ahnatep unfolded on the shore. The pale structures rested between a calm sea and a darkening sky. Contrary to his last statement, Intiv was now commending his choice to leave Syliras. The pale ruins, which Ahnatep’s residents filled, glowed with beauty and a sense of greatness. Intiv rolled off of the makeshift bed, comprised mostly of flour sacks and thin blankets, and onto the floor. The dampness of the floor helped purge the last remnants of sleep from Intiv’s mind. With one great push, he was off the floor and heading to the upper deck of the vessel. The wet and crooked stairs presented an unusually great challenge and, judging by the copious amount of posted warnings, had led to many injuries over the old vessel’s years of service. The door at the top of the stairs was open and beam of light revealed fresh, crimson blood towards the bottom. The many stains that covered the pale wood led him to believe that it wasn’t the first blood to cover the nefarious steps. Intiv cautiously made it to the top of the stairs before a lurch from the ship sent him slipping back down to the bottom. A condescending laugh filled the entirety of the overstuffed boat. Intiv groaned knowing that his slip would inevitably lead to another conversation with Tasraha, the ship’s four-armed captain, about Eypharian superiority. Rumors, gathered immediately after Intiv learned he would be making a voyage with the woman across Mizahar, say that she used to be some pirate, bandit, concubine, or a combination of the three, but as of late, she has made a living being a semi-honorable merchant and part-time smuggler. It was only through luck that Intiv met Tasraha, who agreed to take him on her return journey to Ahnatep. Intiv had enough money to pay for passage to Ahnatep, but he wasn’t about to spend it all to escape his paranoia. Traveling by land seemed impossible due to his lack of a horse. Also, the caravans he would likely encounter heading from Syliras to Ahnatep could likely be slavers. He ran into the Eypharian captain a day before she was planning to leave. Her many arms gave Intiv more than a suspicion that her destination was Anhnatep. She claimed that she could give him free passage if he brought her three people to take with them. Too most it was an odd and pointless request, but Intiv was cunning and brought four knowing what she planned to do with her new passengers. Convincing four people, whether young adventurers or beggars, to go to a land of such renowned wealth and order required no tricks or hypnotism. He found three in a bar talking about their dreams of wealth and the fourth begging on the streets. The laughter faded and a sharp, heavily accented voice floated down from the deck, “Aha! You humans always are so clumsy stupid. You think you’re smart don’t you? You just give me bonus.” Intiv had surmised that she wanted the passengers to sell as slaves. He brought the extra in an attempt to be spared the fate of servitude and obedience. Tasraha seemed to have different ideas though. Intiv heard the other passengers wandering around the ship unaware of what the captain was referring to. Intiv refrained from replying so he could focus on getting up the stairs. Once he had accomplished this task, he addressed the Eypharian whom stood before him, “I know you like me too much to do that sort of thing to me. You know I’m not ‘clumsy stupid’ like the rest.” His four-armed adversary laughed and walked away to prepare the ship for port. Three of the people he had brought with him were busy talking about the view of their new home and paid no attention to banter behind them. Intiv felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he watched the excited expression on the people’s faces. There are five of us... one of her. We could probably overpower her, but most of us would die. He glanced over at Tasraha who was at the head of the ship looking at the water contemplatively. She wore shorts and a top that left much of her torso exposed. Her favorite color was obviously red and everything she owned was painted or dyed a deep crimson. Four intricately decorated axes wrested on her hip and there was little doubt she knew how to use them. Death is worse than slavery... They’ll be treated well I’m sure... The last thought sounded much more like a question than he had intended. The fourth soon-to-be slave walked over to him from downstairs wearing a sling. Intiv looked over inquisitively prompting an embarrassed response from the man, “I slipped on the stairs and broke my arm earlier today. Tasraha bandaged it up...” Trying to keep the merchandise in mint condition... The man with the broken arm departed to join his three peers to admire the view. A stifled chuckle floated over the deck. Intiv walked over next to the captain who seemed to be reveling in the weakness of men. He could tell from her face that wealth filled her mind and, from what he had seen of the goods held below, she should. All of the expensive foreign goods coupled with the new slaves would yield rich rewards. Judging by the sky’s color, the sun was going to set soon. A warm pink melted into a rich gold before the encroaching darkness behind the city. Intiv wanted to turn around to watch the sun dip into the sea but instead decided to sit down and wrap his makeshift blindfold around his eyes. After a few horrifying experiences in his past, he decided not to take any unnecessary strains or risks when it came to his eyes. Tasraha hummed some traditional Eypharian songs and time passed. Soon the sounds of the city could be heard and Intiv was fairly sure that they were in the process of docking. Intiv heard what he assumed to be one of Tasraha’s ax sheaths being unbuttoned. His thoughts were confirmed when he felt the sharp edge being pressed against the right side of his forehead. The woman lightly dragged the ax down causing the blindfold to fall off and drift into the ocean. They stared at each other for a few moments. Intiv intently watched her eyes while she contemplated his worth and her minor affection towards him. The stair was broken when blood from a small cut left by the ax trickled into Intiv’s eye. He began wiping and rubbing it uncomfortably. She spat at the ground and walked away. The boat docked quickly and shackles were tossed on the four men from Syliras. Two accepted the shackles at ax point and the other two were no match for the four-armed fury that they had to overcome. Tasraha gestured in Intiv’s direction and growled, “You don’t seem as inferior as most of your kind. I decide that you go free.” Shame kept her from look at or even towards Intiv. She was practically throwing away money for the sake of a human. She said it again, “I decide that you go free.” Intiv sprung from the boat and onto the shore. He called back, “Thanks... Oh and be careful on the stairs.” The four shackled men looked sadly as he walked away. He wished they looked angry because then he would have a reason to hate them. Intiv had half a mind to go back and just buy them from her using the Mizas he carried in his boots. The man with the broken arm let out a loud yelp as the chain dragged them onto the shores and into the city that would be a cage for them. Intiv decided he needed something to occupy his mind. Every step he took away from the four men seemed to deepen his guilt. He had trouble focusing on the amazing buildings that surrounded him. His thoughts kept him from perceiving anything. Hours must have passed with Intiv battling guilt and trying to justify his actions. He felt like crying. Even if his emotional response was partly due to the fear of leaving behind the last reminders of Syliras, he couldn’t help but to brood. Poor... innocent... friendly... young... and for what? The sadness and regret was hot in his chest and his eyes. The self-loathing heat seemed to fill is eyes with tears as if his body thought crying could extinguish the flames. Intiv felt odd about the emotional response... He had prepared for this pain on the many days spent on the boat, but it was like nothing else he had ever done. Even hypnotizing his family’s slaves to kill his father paled in comparison to this. His father was a criminal and a slave-owner. Was Intiv much better now that he had doomed four people into slavery? Only a sliver of comfort resulted from his resolution to make their sacrifice count by conquering this foreign landscape. Intiv wandered into a very poor looking bar full of Eypharians but with a human bartender and three other humans scattered around at separate tables. The “bar” was actually a very large tent filled with tables and chairs. Glancing back outside, Intiv now noted that it was located in a large clearing in the city where a building probably once stood. The young hypnotist quickly created a plan to ascertain information about the city and perhaps a safe place to spend the night. The streets of an unfamiliar city are not appropriate sleeping spots after all. Intiv would beg his way into rooms like he had in the past, but he would not put himself in a situation like in Sylira. He had grown too passive and had been too obvious with his abilities. In Ahnatep, subtlety and aggression would keep him from repeating the same errors and allow him to achieve success. Intiv’s face had become familiar in many Syliran places and the missing Mizas or inexplicable actions that followed in his wake created a trail straight to him if anyone cared to follow it. Skilled magic users with unassuming appearances had also caught Intiv red-handed on five occasions. While he escaped unharmed, five such people knowing Intiv’s ability essentially killed any ambitions he had. Their knowledge coupled with so much suspicion made targeting influential people a possibly fatal mistake. He would not make the same errors here. He had been clumsy with his execution and his goals were much too low. In Anhatep, he would gain power and do more than just survive. Enhancing Tesraha’s guilt and planting half-merciful thoughts in her head had already violated his new vow of subtlety, but she spent very little time in Ahnatep and being sold into slavery was not a risk worth taking. He must have been standing there for a while thinking because the bartender, who was really just a man sitting behind a long line of shoddy tables, called over to him angrily in Common, “You gonna buy anything?” Intiv walked over to him and sat down in a chair that sported three legs of different lengths. Intiv rubbed his nose instinctively as the smell of the drunken patrons and stale beer assaulted him. The only pleasant aspect of the tent was the chatter in the background. Intiv could speak Arumenic and had spoken with many Eypharians back in Sylira, but the language seemed even more exotic and beautiful as it passed through the warm night air. Every syllable forming words that then formed what sounded like poetry. Intiv quickly decided the ideal facade. He glanced up at the bartender. The man wore cheap brown clothing that had dark stains all over it. The man looked old with gray hair and a bushy beard that held flecks of unknown solids. The deep valleys that covered his face made his small eyes hardly discernable past a perpetual scowl. Where he had used cunning and wit to overcome Tasraha, he would use cynicism and scorn here to win over the elderly man on the other side of the counter. With a tone of bitterness in his voice, Intiv started to speak, “This city... its rea-.” The man behind the bar interrupted him, “I... will... wreck you if you don’t buy something... now.” The bartender carried no weapons, but Intiv was smarter than to think the threat carried no validity because of it. The hypnotist pulled a gold Miza out of his boot and placed it on the table. The bartender raised an eyebrow and picked up the coin to examine it in the lamplight. “Where’s your cup?” He grumbled while picking pieces out of his beard and tasting some that were probably food. “I don’t have one. I haven’t been in the city for more than an hour.” “If you don’t have a cup and straw... then why the hell would you come to a drinking establishment.” He started to respond but stopped himself. Things were not off to a good start. He felt off of his game. The people around him weren’t easy to understand through glances and overheard conversations. Syliran people were like books to him, but these people seemed written in a different language... one he could hardly decipher. The book analogy was poor though because the language wasn’t the reason for the failure. To put it more appropriately, it felt like their minds were an instrument he didn’t know how to play. Even the humans were different here. Intiv had met bartenders who outwardly seemed identical to the one before him, but he had always been able to know exactly how to proceed after the first few words... He was lost and frustrated. “At least the stairs here aren’t slippery right!” He sputtered and grinned before realizing how meaningless that would be to the man in front of him. The bartender behind the bar sighed and walked a few feet away pretending to be busy. He whistled, content with the gold Miza he had earned for nothing and sure that Intiv wouldn’t dare try to get it back. The tent emptied out as minutes past. It must have been nearly midnight at the time when Intiv decided to leave. If he were back in Syilra, he would have gathered information from the bartender about one of the men remaining in the tent. Then he would use that information to gain the man’s trust. Perhaps throw in a lie about how they are from the same city and seal the deal by exaggerating any positive regard through hypnotism. Today was not the day to slip back into old habits though. He asked for directions into the shadiest part of the city and left for what the man called “The Pillars of Dust”. Spending time talking to uninteresting figures seemed familiarly boring... as if he had read it countless times. Intiv got lost on his way to this “hell” and tried to ask for directions. The Eypharians he approached responded with cruel laughter or bitter contempt. Most of the humans he saw ignored him and even the slaves seemed nervous to answer a question that wasn’t from their masters. The marble or sandstone structures were each a testament to an older time. The floral murals and paintings coupled with the occasional gold ornament or decoration made the city one of utter beauty. Even the most rundown buildings, which there were few in the parts of the city he traversed, were impressive. Not many people were on the streets at this hour, but some life remained in courtyards, gardens, and patios. Intiv finally met someone who gave him directions to the infamous Pillars of Dust. Luckily, his wandering had left him relatively close to his destination. Soon, the majestic buildings began to lead into an area filled with half-buried structures. Beauty was replaced by mystery and shadowy figures moved in the pillars’ shadows. He had just devised new plans and means of getting what he wanted. His old tactics of sculpting his target’s minds into letting him live off of them were pointless. He had been using a tool to gain power over people to merely survive off of them. Here he would allow them to survive. The crescent moon offered little light. The area felt quiet despite voices coming from every shadow. A raspy, tired voice sang out into the night next to him. Looking over curiously, Intiv saw the form of a woman barely visible against the darkness behind her. The woman pushed herself off the pillar she was leaning against and took two strides forward. Her clothing made it safe to say that she was a prostitute. The woman’s strides turned into steps, which turned into awkward shuffles. She swayed feet away from Intiv before collapsing near his feet. She seemed unconscious but very much alive. She would be fine on the ground. After a moment of hesitation, he walked away. Intiv wandered over to a pillar and sat down with his back resting against it. He had acquired another piece of cheap cloth to use as a blindfold, but instead of putting it over his eyes, he placed it over the lower part of his face, essentially concealing his identity. Many shady people wandered from one patch of darkness to the next while others strolled down the wide passages and alleyways between them. An Eypharian emerged from the darkness behind Intiv. The fellow had three whole arms and one that was cut off at the elbow. The amputee scanned the surrounding area for a while nervously. The movements of his head were jerky and quick like he was trying to break his neck with each turn. The Eypharian finally noticed Intiv after many minutes of muttering to himself and fidgeting nervously. He was clad in rags that were once fine clothing. The man talked at Intiv slowly but urgency filled his voice, “Dusker... Dusk Eater... Scorpion... or... Lark?” Intiv raised an eyebrow to exaggerate his incredulous stare. After a second of thought, decent Arumenic, “Maybe you should get some sleep.” The Eypharian laughed but it quickly turned into a sort of sob, “No no no no no. You’re new here. Those are- nice accent by the way – types of people. If you want someone beaten, you hire a scorpion. If you want someone to beat you, you hire a lark. If you want to forget a run in with a scorpion or you got your heart broken by a lark, you go find a dusker. After that, you’re a dusk eater.” The Eypharian talked so quickly that Intiv had trouble keeping up, but after a moment of mental sorting, he responded, “So what does that make you?” The Eypharian began to sigh but stopped realizing that it was a fair question given the circumstances, “I’m a dusker. Well, I used to be a dusker, but now I guess most people would call me a dusk eater. I got high on my own stash and lost everything. I’m not addicted or anything. I’m looking for a fix right now for cheap because I can’t afford the normal prices at the moment. All I need is one more fix mirage. Ha! Mirage, mirage, mirage. I’m not addicted though... I just like to get....” He drifted off. Intiv didn’t have many plans to gain power in Ahnatep after his failure in the tent, but something more original began forming in his mind. A grin spread across his face. A whole plan unfolded before him that seemed to have great potential. The addict was about to leave when Intiv, hardly able to contain his excitement, addressed him, “I can give you something better than...” Intiv tried to remember the name of the drug. “Mirage!” He blurted out proudly. It was the Eypharian addict’s turn to give an incredulous look, “Better than Mirage? I’ve tried it all my friend and nothing comes close to Mirage... The feeling its... its...” Intiv interjected before the man could go off on some tangent about his obsession for a few hours, “You mean you’ve never tranced?” Intiv’s prey shook his head and Intiv gave himself another pat on the back for coming up with a name that sounded illicit. He had gotten the hang of using trances back in Sylira. He figured if he could influence people’s feelings and emotions then he could mimic or surpass some drug. Intiv stood up and grabbed one of his new victim’s arms. After a moment of pulling, the Eypharian followed him back into the pillars’ shadows. Intiv could tell his new friend had very little patience so he made it quick, “I once knew a... hypnotist.” The addict leapt to his feet at the word. People are paranoid here too. The young hypnotist had to keep him here, “Wait! I’m not a hypnotist. A friend of mine was and he taught me how to use these glyphs. Trust me. They’re great.” Intiv already had been unleashing his Djed, planting seeds of trust that fed on the man’s desperation. The Eypharian sat down. His movements, gestures, and expressions revealed his doubt, but Intiv knew he had succeeded. The hypnotist pulled out a page of his notebook and placed it between him and the impatient recipient. Intiv lied, “This is a glyph my friend wrote that has the power I’ve been talking about. Look into my eyes now and let accept the power. The glyph’s power is flowing through us...” Intiv felt his control expand exponentially as the man across from him fell into the trance state. Intiv could now mold and shape the druggy’s mind as he pleased. Using the techniques he had been trained in, he created flashes and momentary hallucinations of bliss while amplifying them with suggestions and furthur emotional manipulations. The hypnotized subject let out a groan as the trance offered him new things that Mirage never had like hope and an artificial sense of belonging. Flashes and feelings flashed in greater and greater frequency and intensity like a strobe. The hypnotist began to feel a bit of a rush as he stretched his abilities further than ever. Intiv began to lose track of time but he quickly ended the display of hypnotic prowess when his eyes began to feel fatigue. The Eypharian got up slowly and brushed the sand off of his legs. He said through a tired smile, “That was great. Hey, you and I are going to make it big here. Where are you staying? It doesn’t even matter. You might not believe it but I have a pretty nice place from all the money I made selling Mirage a couple years ago, and tonight you are staying with me. We will talk business in the morning.” Intiv stood up, grabbed the paper covered in meaningly scribbles, and followed his host for the night out of the area and back into a much nicer part of the city. Intiv made inquiries about the social structure of Ahnatep. Most of it he already knew. Eypharians were in charge and held all of the power. The highest person up was their queen, Bashti. The Eypharian, whom Intiv didn’t bother to inquire the name of, educated the foreigner about all of the drama that the royalty created. Intiv drained every bit of knowledge from history to politics to cuisine, making special note of the names and roles of important figures. The duo ended their trek in front of a building that Intiv assumed was the dusker’s home. They entered and the three-armed Eypharian designated a plush couch that would be Intiv’s bed for the night. The room’s decor was lost in darkness. The hypnotist, satisfied with his new hypnotic confidence and success, drifted off into placid dreams. The information he had gathered would prove invaluable in a foreign city and the soft bed added a nice bonus. Intiv was gone in the morning and the Eypharian had no way of pursuing him thanks to the blindfold turned facemask.