Act 2

“Any fool can sell merchandise on the buyers terms, but the best merchants know how to bring the customers to them on theirs…”

-Advice given by Zerenoch the Leader of the Frimbly Merchant Guild to her apprentice.

4993 A.D. First Day of the Second week of Autumn. A Half Bell before the Ninth Evening Bell...

“SELENA! I have a proposition for you!” Seymour cried out.

He had burst into the Grakoan court, cutting off and shoving aside the current petitioner, Seymour made a quick perfunctory bow to the godmother and residential ruler.

He was still out of breath from his run here, his face flushed and sweat dripping off his face from his exertions.

Seymour looked up in time to see a brief scowl vanish from Selena’s usually placid visage.

“To what do I owe the... pleasure of this interruption, I do hope you have a good explanation...Seymour.” Selena inquired, her tone frigid in obvious displeasure.

“Of course Mistress Selena, but time is off the essence, I need to speak to Him.”

Seymour used just the right cadence in his tone, one that conveyed layers of meaning to the understanding ear.

It was successfully received.

Selena’s eyes widened before they narrowed to slits, oh she was not happy, not at all, but if Seymour was going to have any shot at this he had no choice but to go over her head and talk to someone who had the power and resources he required.

He would have to pay the piper later, and burn many of his carefully amassed cards to succeed in his ploy, but what choice did he have?

Seymour thrust those thoughts away and continued his pitch.

It was time to sweeten the deal for her, he knew for sure she wanted him out now, her current reactions and the Grakoan political stirrings over the last month all clicked into place.

She must see him as a threat to her control, an unstable element that required purging, yet she could not simply remove him, such an action without due cause would undermine her rule and sow displeasure among the ranks, Seymour was popular after all, he had made sure to be so.

‘Too late now mistress, I shall profit yet with this trade.’ Seymour thought.

“I freely surrender my standing as lieutenant over the beggar and slick hander factions to show my sincerity in this proposal.” He proclaimed.

Seymour stood upright, both hearing and feeling his statement cause ripples of unease and uncertainty all around him, yet he kept his eyes locked on Selena, his head half bowed, for only her reaction mattered in this moment.

Oh she was taking him seriously now, she wanted to snap at the juicy bait he had thrown out, yet her instincts warned her that it was a trap.

Her body language spoke to just how much she wanted to rip the smile right off his pretty little, oh so smug face.

It was a trap, but one she could not help but throw herself into.

She couldn’t kill him, not without knowing why he was so adamant and how he was connected to Him.

Good, at this point she was already dancing in the palm of his hand.

“It concerns moving His plans to the next phase.”

There, now see how she squirmed in her seat, she hadn't been expecting that.

She had no choice now, her prime directive was being challenged.

Standing from her lounging sofa Selena rapidly strode towards Seymour, her heels clacking loudly on the cold stone floor.

She grasped the front of his tunic and pulled him close, the cloying smell of a powerful perfume assaulted his senses.

“How much do you know gutter brat?” she snarled into his ear.

Seymour felt the cold prick of a blade against his throat and chose his next words carefully.

“Enough to know what He wants, and.. how to get it for him.”

The blade tensed for a moment, drawing a red line across his throat, before it was withdrawn.

“Follow me” Selena said, her face now drawn into an impassive mask.

Seymour rubbed his throat, wiping away the streak of blood and followed her past her two hulking brutes to a back room, Selena’s office.

There, behind a slightly mildewed tapestry they entered a long dark tunnel, guided only by a small magitech lamp that Selena had snagged from a receptacle and held aloft as they hurried along.

They hurried through the tunnel, with Seymour's impatience rising every minute.

Were they going to be too late?

How much longer before others started hunting down Guppy?

Without her as the core the plan to keep Stalia safe would go up in smoke.

Finally, after traveling for what seemed an age they exited through a hatch into a shadowy garden.

The pools of darkness that spread everywhere were bred between the twin moons and an assortment of large hedges and trees, each cut into figures of beasts that leaned uncomfortably over any bystander.

Seymour did not have time to admire the scene though as Selena urged him onwards with a swift cuff to the head.

Crossing the dark expanse of a garden they soon came to a wall covered in long tendrils of ivy, brushing some aside with a gloved hand Selena fumbled for a few seconds before finding a stone that she grasped and twisted.

A quiet “poof” sounded as the air between the two atmosphere’s stabilized, then the concealed door silently swung inwards on well-oiled hinges.

Selena silently led the way up a narrow stairwell that wound upwards in a tight spiral.

Before long they came to another door that Seymour judged must be the fourth and highest level of the towering manor they had entered so surreptitiously.

There Selena knocked gently in a rhythmic pattern and waited, shortly a click sounded and she pushed the door forwards and entered the room that lay beyond.

Seymour cautiously followed, he was in the belly of the beast now.

Elegant carved wooden bookshelves lined the walls of the room, stuffed full of thick volumes of divers titles and topics.

Beautiful paintings, and elaborate magitech tools hung in the spaces between the massive shelves, or sat in gilded display cases at points around the room.

A massive beast skin rug, hunted no doubt from the northern climbs of Bailash, lay over a luxurious Tabolt carpet before a large dark wood desk, whose surface was altogether clear apart from some neatly laid writing apparatus and an open ledger.

Seated behind the desk was a middle aged man, yet he looked in the prime of his life, no grey touched his hair and his well-defined features were handsome and elegant.

Muscled, broad shoulders spoke of steady training and discipline, despite what the lavish clothes he wore tried to conceal, he was someone Seymour would clearly classify as a predator.

Observing the environment and man Seymour smirked briefly and made minor alterations to his pitch and plan.

‘Good, his all round overcompensation screams his greed for what he yet lacks, I got this.’

…………………………….

Avarice’s Descent, Inner Sanctum…

Guppy was escorted by the attendant into a luxurious office filled with creature comforts such as a crackling fireplace, and comfortable chairs before it.

At a small but elaborately carved desk sat the auctioneer Lyle writing a letter on a piece of parchment.

As Guppy entered, he looked up and gestured to a seat in front of his table.

“Please sit miss Bright.” His smooth and reassuring tone had her seated before she was aware of moving.

The doors gently closed behind her as the attendant left.

“Please help yourself miss Bright, sweet things are good for the nerves are they not?”

Lyle gestured towards a tray of goodies that lay upon his desk.

Guppy snagged a couple of small custard pastries with cute little animal icing decorations on top and delightfully devoured them, her actions drawing a bemused smile from the elderly man.

She was about to reach for some more when she realised just who she was in front of.

Guppy resisted the urge to sink into the chair's plush cushioning as she blushed and instead sat upright, trying to remember the manners her mother had taught her all those years ago.

“You wished to see me Sir Luther?” She enquired curiously.

“Yes, indeed I did, I wished to recommend a couple of our services to you. First, I advise you open a bank account with us, into which we can deposit your money, thirty-three thousand odd gold royals is not easily nor safely carried around after all.”

Guppy nodded her consent, at which Lyle opened a drawer and pulled out a black crystalline card that had hundreds of tiny silver circuits engraved upon it.

“Please drip a drop of your blood here.” requested Lyle as he indicated a circular groove in the center and held out a pin in his other hand.

Guppy accepted the card but not the pin, she already knew that the steel pin would snap if she tried to poke herself, at least the one this morning had, and she would rather avoid having to explain that.

Instead she bit her thumb to draw a drop of blood, this action drew a raised brow but thankfully no comment from the gentleman in front of her.

When her deep red blood hit the card it was quickly absorbed.

“Splendid, now please hand it to me for a moment.” Lyle asked as he extended a white gloved hand.

Guppy obediently handed the simmering card back.

Lyle then proceeded to insert the card into a largish black box that sat to the side of his table, he adjusted the dial on top until it read thirty-two thousand two hundred and held a green knob on the left while channeling his mana through it into the box.

The card flashed for a moment then dimmed again.

Lyle retrieved the card and handed it back to Guppy along with a small, but weighty velvet pouch.

“This card has been linked to both you and a private bank account, I have deposited the amount owing for your lots’ sale into it, less the one hundred gold royals in the pouch, the auction houses handling fee and the cost of your winning bid.”

“You may visit any Avarice or affiliated bank in the seven Kingdoms and withdraw money within the account as you see fit.”

“Furthermore, the card is useless to anyone but yourself and your unique magic wavelength. Only you can withdraw from the account by channeling your mana into it. Do you have any questions miss Bright?”

Guppy shook her head to show she understood and had none.

“The second order of business is to offer you a room here for the night.”

Lyle glanced at the clock which showed just a few minutes to the tenth night bell.

“The auction by necessity does drag on quite late, although the excitement and bright lights we employ do not make it seem so. It is nonetheless rather late for a young lady such as yourself to be out on the streets in safety.”

Guppy saw the time shown by the wall-clock and jumped right out of her chair in fright, quickly realizing her reaction could come off as rude she curtseyed and said.

“Begging your pardon good sir but my family was expecting me back a while ago, I'd not worry them any further and must be on my way home.”

When Lyle heard this he sighed and pulled a velvet rope, the double doors opened and his calgaree secretary came in, her liviered butler outfit bespoke that of a seasoned servant, neatly pressed and worn.

“Please show Miss Bright to the door Anastasia, and make sure she receives her bidded item. That will be all.”

Anastasia performed a half bow and silently motioned for Guppy to follow her.

Guppy curtseyed once more before following Anastasia.

She turned as she reached the doors, catching one final glimpse of Lyle as he pulled out a new piece of parchment and began writing upon it.

Guppy then quickened her steps to keep up with Anastasia, the calgaree lady was middle aged, her whiskers and muzzle trimmed with white, yet her steps were full of purpose and confidence and she moved with a deceptively fast pace.

It was not long before Guppy had received a sealed box and was ushered to the exit, the door closing firmly behind her.

Once more she trod upon the cobblestones of the road.

“Well that went better than I thought.” Guppy remarked to herself.

Hanging the bank card on a leather cord around her neck she tucked it into her bosom and out of sight.

“I’m really rich now aren’t I?”

She kicked herself, once more making sure that she wasn’t dreaming, the last few hours had been so magical she struggled to tell whether it had been a dream or reality.

Guppy raised the box containing the golden egg she had purchased, wanting to once more admire her purchase.

She pried open the lid, easily pulling the nails from the wood in her eagerness.

There, nestled in straw and balicog wool sat the beautiful egg she had successfully bidded for.

Guppy picked it up and held it to the light of the twin moons, their bright beams caressed the egg, causing the multicoloured striations of the shell to catch and reflect as she moved it around.

It was not a large egg, measuring just slightly bigger than her fist, and it felt cool, yet slightly metallic in its smooth hardness.

“Ouch!” Guppy almost dropped the egg.

‘Did it just prick me?’ she thought incredulously.

Yet there was blood welling briefly from her palm from three narrow slices, smearing onto the base of the egg she held.

Guppy blinked, the blood was gone, as was her wounds, no trace of either except a momentary image in her mind.

She chalked it up to another little piece of weirdness that happened around her that defied explanation, she was getting awfully comfortable with them she noticed, accepting in stride things that before would have previously freaked her out.

Guppy tucked the egg into her bosom as well before gazing upwards.

The sister moons shone down around her as she stood alone in the middle of the plaza, their rays felt invigorating, giddy even.

She felt, relaxed, and excited both, her blood fizzing in her veins.

Guppy giggled and began to skip and dance her way down the moon lit street, enjoying for once the prospect of tomorrow.

Who would think it would be a concept she looked forward to after so many years of toil and trouble.

Her hair flowed as she bounced and twirled, its own silver gaining subtle magenta highlights from the twin sister moon’s pale red and blue rays that were reflected and melded together therein.

………………….

Avarice’s Descent, Inner Sanctum…

Anastasia entered her master’s inner sanctum once more, coming to a stop behind a large chair that was drawn up close to the fireplace.

“You did not warn her?” She queried.

She was answered by a tired voice tinged with sadness.

“No, it’s not our place to dictate what happens, you know that. We all have our orders from the Master, and at the moment they are to not interfere.”

A silence settled for a few minutes before the next utterance sprung from his mouth, “She looks so different now does she not? A great pity...”

His words trailed off, devoured by the crackling of the flames.

A hand was then raised, appearing to the side of the chair, holding a sealed letter.

“See to its delivery, the usual place.”

Anastasia accepted the letter and glided on soft paws to the door.

“Good night Master Luther.” She uttered, before softly closing the doors.

The light in that room stayed on late that night, as an old man mused of possibilities and things past, present, and yet to come.