I stared into the mirror again, watching a stranger's listless eyes stare back.
Brown jacket, dark trousers, one size too large. Soot-stained shirt, slightly yellowed from the factory air already. My signature flat cap pressed tight over my fringe, black hair spilling just past my brows. Tired eyes, but sharp at least.
I didn't look like average Joe Damian anymore. I looked like one of Hallrigg's seasoned men, another invisible cog in the city's machine.
This'll work.
I strapped the newly cleaned revolver tight to my side, hidden just under the coat flap, out of sight. My hands lingered on the hilt longer than necessary, finding familiarity in the solid wooden grip. My inquisitorial blade was tucked in my boot, in its sheathed form. Balanced, accessible, familiar. The inquisitorial cloak still hung in my closet, untouched — at least for now. That one would stay out of sight for the time being.
The sun outside had dipped lower, casting orange streaks across the apartment floor through the single window above my bed. It was now evening, closing fast unto night. The Inner Rim always looked better at this hour. It just sucked that I couldn't sit here to enjoy it. Golden. Peaceful. Unfortunately, a façade.
I locked the door behind me and started walking towards the Outer Rim. My destination lay on the cusp of civility and entertaining chaos - the public market, where the street vendors gave way to something much more secretive yet exciting after sundown.
The Outer Rim began to feel more alive as I got closer. The smells of freshly cooked bread and a variety of grilled meats clashed against the stink of oil and sweat from my own person. Music played from a barrel organ, off-key but passable, and also quite welcome. Someone shouted about miracle tonics. A woman offered prayer beads blessed by the Emperor himself. Total scam in my opinion, but people bought placebos for a reason.
And people say this place has no charm.
But as I passed under the arched gate into the heart of the night market, the tone shifted.
Gone were the housewives and their shopping baskets. The crowd was younger now, looser and much more lively - mixed with a bit of disorder. Groups of working men leaning on crates, half-drunk and laughing. Scrawny boys with slicked-back hair selling black powder sweets, trying to make a profit off those same drunk men. Cloaked figures moving too smoothly through the masses - smugglers, pickpockets, soldiers off-duty, could have been anyone really.
A line of children caught my attention, as their cheering and rowdiness stood out, especially since they were playing on what seemed to be a carnival attraction.
Oh cool. Didn't realize people here had carnival games as well. Maybe it's whack-a-mole, that'd be nostalgic.
Looking closer, they were gathered around a small wooden booth with a painted sign overhead that read: "The Eastern Menace: Defend Your Empire!"
Inside the stall was a shooting gallery. Painted dummies - vaguely Eastern in caricature and descent - stood lined with rings drawn around their hearts and heads. Wooden rifles were handed to each child. A man stood to the right, with a comical top hat on and a pipe in his mouth. Collecting a copper coin each from the boys, he smiled heartily and started to shout enthusiastically, pulling a lever to start the attraction.
"Shoot the Heretic! Ten points for the heart, twenty for the head!"
Laughter and cheers echoed in the group. A little boy shouted as he hit bullseye after bullseye. After the attraction ended, he received a candy token and went off with a bright smile.
Oh. So much for whack-a-mole.
My stomach tightened a bit, seeing such a sight.
They're learning to dehumanize before they even learn to shave. Fun-sized indoctrination, for all the young future soldiers to enjoy. I'd say it's dystopian, but that wouldn't even be irony at this point.
I moved on quickly, trying not to think about what that game taught them.
I had only taken a few more steps when a cackle reached my ears.
"You!"
I turned my head, trying to find the person who was speaking. Looking towards the alleyway I was supposed to turn to, I saw an old lady outside a disheveled tent, with a few gaps in her teeth and some jewelry on her neck.
"Yes, you with the tired eyes and the sin in your soul!"
The old woman sat beneath a faded red tent, draped in beads and glittering necklaces, her skin like old leather and eyes like melted silver. She had a smile on her face, as if she had found a coin under a rock.
Oh, it's the old crazy lady Hallrigg talked about. Just my luck, huh.
She pointed a long, crooked finger at me while talking to me in the same raspy voice I'd expect.
"Come, boy, first reading is free. Your fate's been screaming all evening and your soul's lost in a sea of blood."
With a big polite smile on my face, I replied steadily.
"I'm good," I muttered, already turning.
"Ahh, don't be shy, boy. Even lost souls and degenerates like you deserve a glimpse behind the curtain!"
That's one way to-wait, fucking excuse me?
With a twitching eyebrow and a strained smile, I replied in a rough tone.
"Okay, old hag, you've got my attention."
With a smile, the old lady led me into her tent. It smelled like incense and old paper. I sat across from her, arms crossed in a clearly annoyed expression, which I hoped she would pick up.
Whether or not she picked up my attitude, she ignored me. Instead of tarot cards, which I had instinctively assumed she would use, she reached into a cracked wooden box and pulled out… stones. Small black ones, about six, each carved with strange, angular symbols on each side. Some were chipped, but I could see there were five symbols on each stone.
"Divine stones," she announced. "Passed from the monks of Mount Caelum. Or maybe from a circus, who knows really. But they will divine your future, or past. It's up to you to figure that out." She said with a shrug.
"Real reputable," I said flatly.
Without asking for my permission, she grabbed my hands into her own. She brought out a small knife, and again without asking my opinion, pricked my finger, letting some droplets of blood fall into a ceramic bowl in the center of the table. She then used my same pricked finger to smear the blood all around the bowl, making sure all of it was marked, before letting my hands go.
That stung.
She smirked and dropped the stones into the ceramic bowl, letting them coat in my blood and shaking it like dice before throwing them across the table out of the bowl. They clattered and rolled, coming to a jagged stop in odd formations.
She narrowed her eyes.
"Hmm, interesting..."
Watching her look at the stones, I wanted to rush her to finish the divination. Although I didn't believe in such things from some backward old hag, my blood was still involved, so I was a bit squeamish to know the results.
"A Raven and a Dove, intertwined in an eternal dance. The broken seal. The dagger of betrayal. The eternal night. And the eye that sees but never blinks. That's… concerning."
A Raven and Dove? I'm guessing I'm the Raven, but who is the Dove? The rest, I'm at a loss. Maybe the eternal night is in relation to my Divinity? And the eye that sees but never blinks...
The same catchphrase that kept repeating in my dreams popped up again. This time the same pang didn't come with it, but the dread was as present as ever.
They're coming.
With a face that hid nothing now, I pushed her to give me answers.
"What's that mean? I'm going to lose my house in a fire?"
With a more serious expression, she answered me in a sombre tone.
"Worse. You're going to lose yourself. And someone will take your place. Or maybe they already have?" she said, with a slight eyebrow raise, expecting me to answer that question.
"Very dramatic." I responded with a sigh. I was worried about what she said, but I would just confirm with Charlotte later to see what it was about.
She leaned closer, the same serious expression never leaving her face. "Your path forks into two directions. One leads to power. The other to ruin. And someone watches you. Something ancient."
Now it was my turn to raise my eyebrow, as I responded in a questioning way.
"You get all that from pebbles?" I asked, purposefully demeaning her in revenge.
"Divine stones!" she snapped. "They are-"
"Bought from the pawn shop near Fisher Street."
Her eye twitched, and her expression was now more equivalent to an inflated puffer fish.
There was a beat of silence before she huffed and extended her hand.
"Reading's over, that'll be two silver."
With an exasperated expression, I pointed my finger at her in accusation.
"You said it was free!"
She now put her hand out, palm open for coin.
"I lied. That's how you get customers. Now cough it up, boy."
With a smartass smile, I responded quickly.
"Then I lie too. I'm broke."
She stood abruptly, pointing to the door. "Out. Now."
With a middle finger - something that fortunately didn't apply here - I started to leave toward the makeshift door.
"Fine. Scam artist."
"You're cursed! I curse you and your cursed future!"
I ducked out, brushing the tent flap off my shoulder, with a side-eye towards the old lady, who was still staring at me, but now without the anger. It was more concerning, as if she was thinking quite heavily.
I chose to ignore it, adding it to her being batshit and old.
Add it to the list.
I was muttering curses under my breath and kicking stones when I felt a soft tap on my shoulder.
I tensed, half-turning - hand instinctively brushing my coat.
But it was just her.
Of course it's just you.
Mary Magdalene herself.
Hooded, black cloak wrapped tightly around her slim frame. Her hair was hidden, and only the bottom half of her face showed. Still, her beautiful eyes were unmistakable - vivid and bright like starlight in water.
"You've got ash on your cheek," she said softly, closing the distance a bit.
"…Mary?" I asked, moving my flat cap higher to show my face better.
She nodded. "Hello to you too."
There was an awkward pause. Her tone was reserved but warm - weirdly somewhat excited. Again, I chose to ignore it and continue.
"You look... different. What's with the get-up?"
"So do you. And what's up with your disguise?"
"I could've sworn I told the Regent to tell you to stay put."
"You did." She replied as if I was asking stupid questions.
"And yet here you are."
She shrugged. "I found where you lived. Wasn't hard really. I wanted to make sure you were okay, but then you weren't there."
"I'm fine. And how exactly did you find me?"
"You don't look fine. And a woman never reveals her methods." I could see a small smirk form at her mouth, and her eyes seemed to gleam a bit brighter.
Don't do this here. Not in front of everyone at least.
"Mary," I said, lowering my voice, "you can't just walk through this part of the city. You have no idea how people behave down here."
"I'm not a child."
"I didn't say you were."
"You're acting like I am."
I looked away. She had no idea. I wanted to protect her, yes. But it wasn't purely from goodwill.
I was ordered to.
"You want to come with me, fine," I said finally. "But you keep your hood up. Don't speak unless I say so. No names. No eye contact. No mistakes. If I tap on my right shoulder, use your eyes to see if someone's lying, but that's it. Is that clear?"
She gave a tight nod, lips pressed together in a small smile.
"You know, you could've used your angel eyes to check if that old hag was lying."
Mary raised a brow. "Did she scam you?"
"She tried. And failed."
"…You're not very good at taking readings."
"I'm not very good at paying for them."
Her smile seemed to gain more warmth, and she started to follow me as I began to walk.
I turned to the alley behind the tent. A dark passage twisted between the decaying stone and wood buildings. It reeked of dampness and smoke.
"This way," I said.
We ducked into the alley.
I knocked in a pattern, just like Hallrigg had instructed. A narrow slit opened at knee height, and I slipped a silver coin inside.
The door clicked open a moment later, swinging into darkness.
The smell of dust, candle wax, and secrets flowed out to greet us.
Mary glanced at me.
I nodded once, and together, we stepped inside.
The Empire trusts only the unseen.