Chapter 002:

A Silent Swan Song

It is well past midnight when a sudden loud noise wakes me up from another dreamless sleep.

“What the hell.. are they still setting off fireworks right now…” I mumble.

What time is it anyways?

I blindly pet around me until I find my Magitek Device poking the bone of my right hip. In a bit of an awkward manoeuvre I eventually get it in front of my face.

3:34 AM.

Which means that all the firework shows have been over for at least three hours now.

That’s kinda strange. What-

This time I am interrupted by an even louder crash, followed by sound that vaguely sounds like glass breaking.

Wait a second.

I sit up in my bed.

The sounds do not come from outside, but rather…I look towards my right, in the direction of my door.

I am already halfway across my room before the realization can even hit me fully.

However, I don’t make it to my door right away for in my haste I slip on something on the floor causing me to fall down.

My vision turns red and it isn’t until I pull myself up on my elbows and look down that I realize that I have fallen face first unto one of my t-shirts.

It is the shirt I bought at the Artificer convention last year with grandpa.

My vision turns blurry for a second as my eyes begin to well up with tears.

C’mon Cas. There is no time for that now!

I push myself up from the floor and with two large steps I am at my door which I fling open with more force than necessary.

Please be alright. Please be alright. Please be alright.

I always thought that when situations like this happen people would get into this state of hyper focus and that only one thought would be on their mind.

However, right now, as I am running through the dark unlit corridors of my house, a million thoughts are spiraling through my mind all at once.

What is happening exactly? Are my grandparents okay? Is grandpa okay? What if he-

My thoughts are interrupted as I bump into something as I round the corner. I open my mouth to scream, but before a sound could even pass by my lips, a hand clamps over it. Automatically I start trying to fight of whatever has its hand over my mouth.

“Casey, for the goddess’s sake, stop squirming!”

Wait, grandma?

“I am going to pull my hand away now, but I need you to be very quiet, understood?” she ferociously whispers in my ear.

I nod.

As soon as she releases me I turn around and whisper to her, “What is happening? Where is grandpa?”

“Listen carefully child, there is no time for explanations. I just need you to stay upstairs. Go hide somewhere and whatever happens don’t come down.”

“But-“

Grandma harshly shakes my shoulders, “Do you understand me?!”

Again the only thing I can do is nod my head. She releases my shoulders and without sparing me another glance, turns around and runs down the stairs. My eyes follow her until her silhouette disappears around the corner.

It takes a couple of seconds for me to snap out of my daze and start looking for a place to hide.

I end up in front of a pantry closet in the hallway next to this one.

I step into the closet, turn the lock of its door, and then promptly collapse unto the ground as my legs give away under me.

What the hell is going on? Is someone robbing the store?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I need to calm down before I am gonna pass out.

I close my eyes and start focusing on my breathing.

C’mon Cas, you got this. In and out. Deep breath. In and out.

After my breathing has somewhat stabilised a bit I open my eyes again.

Okay, now what do you see around you?

The first thing I notice is that I can’t fully stretch my legs in front of me due to the fact that the pantry is stacked with boxes. On the ground, on the shelves, just everywhere.

Wait a second..

I get up on my knees and reach out to the one closest to me and look inside it.

I knew it. These boxes are filled with my grandfather’s old stuff which means that maybe..

I go through three other boxes until I find what I am looking for.

A Graphein.

By the looks of it it seems pretty old, but it will do for now.

Now… what kind of Artifact should I create? How can I figure out what is going on downstairs without going down there myself?

Considering it is nighttime I won’t have to go into that much detail for it won’t be visible anyways. Also a permanent, stable object is not needed… in that case a Level 2 Artifact should suffice.

But what should it look like?

It has to not stand out and be small too…

Okay, I got it.

I hold the Graphein in my right hand, between my thumb and index finger, in a grip that comes more natural to me than breathing does.

Before I start with the process of creating the Artifact I send a quick message to the Graphein.

I honor you and I thank you.

In my mind I begin visualising in as much detail as I can in this moment, the outline of the Artifact I want to create, making sure everything is exactly the way I want it to before I continue.

Whilst still holding the image in my mind, I bring my attention to that deep inner well within my being, the source of my life stream, and with my mind I then pull.

A warm current starts to shoot from the center of my body, up through my chest, and then down my arm, where it eventually finds its way out through the tip of the Graphein.

Slowly, but surely as I start drawing in the air, the outline of the image that I am holding in my mind starts to become visible.

Now comes the hardest step.

This will be a temporarily Artifact, so for this one I won’t have to split my life stream permanently. However, I still have to focus on maintaining the flow of the current which, considering my mental state right now, will be a difficult task.

C’mon, Casey now is not the time to start doubting yourself.

There is no time to create another Artifact.

You only have one chance.

One shot.

Who knows what has happened to grandpa and grandma in the time you have spent sitting here in this closet.

I take a deep breath and begin with the last step.

With a final push of my mind the Artifact starts to become more and more densified until it eventually reaches the opacity I want to.

In front of me a regular mullookkaaran house moth has come alive. Well, it’s not really alive considering it’s body is made from mechanical parts, but it has to do for now.

I shift a part of my consciousness into the Artifact so that I am able to receive information through its senses.

To say this takes some getting used to would be the understatement of the year. Everything is much sharper, especially my sense of smell and instead of my ears being located next to my head they are somewhere much lower around my abdomen area.

But I have wasted enough time already.

How much of it has passed since the moment that unsettling sound woke me up?

Five minutes? Ten?

Who knows what has happened to grandpa and grandma by now.

I have to hurry.

As I unlock the door of the pantry to release my creation into night I give it only one command.

‘FIND GRANDPA!’

With a surge the Artifact moves forward, flying by my head, whilst frantically flapping its phantom wings.

Just like my grandmother, its silhouette quickly disappeares around the corner. Only this time I don’t stay behind for I can see and feel everything it perceives.

Its eyes are mine now.

The moth flies through the dark unlit corridors of the house, down the stairs, past the kitchen, and then down another set of stairs again until it suddenly comes to a halt.

It has reached its target.

It takes a couple of seconds for my eyes to adjust to the brightness of the room, but the moment they do, I can’t help but let out a pained cry back in the pantry.

I almost can’t believe what I am looking at.

My grandfather’s workshop, a sight once so familiar, a sight I once knew better than the palm of my own hand, has become nothing but a stranger to me.

The front window and door are completely shattered, and scattered all over the floor like a sea filled with orphaned stars, lie what is left of the contents of the bookcase. Rolls of parchment paper, normally kept on the top shelf, now ripped to pieces, covering thrown over desks and tables.

My heart tightens painfully in my chest as I spot the big astronomical clock which once stood so tall and proud, as it now lies defeated with its face down on the ground.

One of the overhanging pendant lamps has also been completely smashed to smithereens.

Then my eyes finally find the person I am looking for.

My grandfather.

He is half kneeling on the floor, whilst grandma has one arm protectively slung around his shoulders. His clothes are disheveled and there is a little bit of blood dripping from his mouth, but other than that he seems okay.

I let out a sigh of relief.

If he is fine, that’s enough for me.

Then I notice that my grandparents are not the only ones who are present in the room for my grandmother seems to be speaking to someone.

I let my gaze shift over and find that standing in the front of the shop near the counter are five men who all are wearing a variation of a pair of black slacks and dress shirt.

That is, except for one.

This man is the only one who is not wearing any black. Instead, he is wearing a white pinstriped suit with mauve colored detailing with on his head a fedora hat embellished with a huge feather sticking out from the side, effectively obscuring his face from my view.

There also is something…different about his presence compared to the rest of them.

The longer I look at him the more it makes the hairs stand up on both my bodies.

There is something.. off about his energy. His very presence.

Of course, he is the one my grandmother currently is talking to and judging from the expression on her face it isn’t exactly going well comsidering her lips are curled back into a snarl and her eyes are practically spitting fire.

My mind is not able at first to comprehend the sensory information that is coming through the moth Artifact, but after a few moments of adjusting the sounds slowly start to make sense and I am able to tune into their conversation.

“-can’t do this to us!”

“I have given you more than enough chances, Agatha. Time has simply run out.”

“If you take our house away you are taking away our only way of making an income. You are basically sentencing us to death and you know it.”

“You should have thought about that before you decided to borrow money from me.”

“What about my husband? How are we supposed to pay for his medicine then?

“That is not my problem, sweetheart.”

Hold up.

Wait a second.

Wait a goddamn second.

Grandpa’s illness has returned? Losing our house?

What the actual fuck.

Why did I not know about any of this?

“There must be another way. If you give us more-“

“I thought I had made myself clear. You have until the end of this week to give me the money, and if not, this place of yours, including this shop, will be mine.”

“Please-

In a sudden flash the man has grabbed my grandfather by his collar and has thrown him to the side of the room where he smashes his head on the side of a table causing him to collapse on the floor next to it.

He doesn’t get back up again.

He then grabs my grandmother’s chin in his hand, but before I can see what he is saying or doing to her next, I pull my consciousness out of the room causing the connection to break to the Artifact and for it to dissolve.

No way in hell I am gonna sit here in this closet, hiding, whilst my grandparents are in danger.

I fling the door of the pantry open and burst into the night as I start running through the dark corridors of the house.

Of our house.

Over my dead body will I let them take this away from us.

Not when it is all we have left.

All I have left.

My eyes quickly flicker to the kitchen as I dart past it on my way to the workshop.

It still smells like cinnamon.

It still smells like cinnamon.

It still smells like cinnamon and flames and please don’t leave-

The second I enter the workshop I throw myself at the guy who is still holding my grandmother’s chin in a vice grip. But before I can reach him I am hit by something that flings me to the side where I crash into the wall.

I am on my hands and knees and cough up blood.

“Well, well, well… what do we have here?” a voice speaks from somewhere above me.

I spit out some of the blood that has pooled into my mouth on the ground and look into the direction of where the voice came from.

“What the hell do you think you are doing to my grandparents?!” I say roughly whilst glaring up at him.

He releases my grandmother from his grip and slowly stands up while reaching into his breast pocket.

I can’t believe it.

This motherfucker has the nerve to light up a fucking cigarette.

As if this is all just some joke to him.

As if we are nothing but mere toys for him to play with.

My chest starts to burn and beneath me my hands clench into fists.

“I think you already know the answer to that considering you overheard us talking earlier right?” He says, exhaling the words through a thick curtain of smoke. “We are simply collecting what is due, but I guess your grandparents over there are good at keeping secrets from you, aren’t they?”

He starts to walks over to me, his steps slow and lazy but full of hidden meanings.

He casually looks me up and down. “Hmm, interesting,” he says after a few seconds.

I don’t know how I feel about the look in his eyes.

He strangely… almost looks excited.

Like a child who has stumbled upon a favorite toy he was not aware of he even had lost in the first place.

“That spell you used earlier was some advanced type of Stargazer magic wasn’t it?”

He glances at my grandfather, who is still lying unconscious on the floor near the table. “It seems the apple has not fallen far from the tree after all.”

Grandma suddenly starts shouting in a panicked voice, “Get away from her! I already told you we will find a way to pay it all back, if you just give us a little more time-“

He interrupts her by asking me, “So what age are you? 16? 17?”

I continue glaring at him. “Why the fuck do you want to know?”

He clicks his tongue and slightly shakes his head as if he is disappointed. “Why is it that people always try to make me turn out to be the bad guy?”

He takes another drag of his cigarette. “Can’t you see that I am trying to make you an offer here?”

“Don’t listen to him! He cannot be trusted-“

I ignore my grandma as I ask, “What kind of offer?”

He chuckles softly. “Well, it seems the gods are on your side this night. It turns out that I have need for someone like… you.”

“Someone like me?”

“Young. Capable of a certain level of magic. And…” He pauses for a second. “…hungry.”

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

He looks me straight in the eyes. “What do you say… one single job and consider all of your family debts paid off.”

My grandmother starts shouting again in the background, but somehow her words are not reaching me right now.

Instead I am totally rooted to the spot by what I am seeing in this strangers gaze. Or what I believe I am seeing.

Because for one second there I thought I saw a flash of something like sorrow flickering across his face.

But that doesn’t make sense at all. Why would he feel that in this moment?

Suddenly he grabs my hand and presses something into it.

I am so shocked that I can’t even react anymore.

He puts his cigarette out on the floor and turns to walk out of the door. Or well, what is left of it.

“You have until sunrise,” he says over his shoulder without looking around.

Then, with a wave of his hand, he and his men disappear into the dark of the night, leaving in the same way they have arrived.

Like a flock of birds rushing towards the ground, moving in powerful unison.

Wings spread and teeth bared.

I have a feeling that death is not something that scares him or his fellow men.

They do not need to run from the shadows.

I mean, why would they?

When the world they live in is one absent of light, void of sun’s flames.

They do not belong to the day, and they do not belong to the night.

They do not serve the darkness nor the flames of light.

They are all that is untethered in this world and not even a timely slow dance with one of Death’s Maidens could change this.

Their fate is their own.

Immediately after they have left I rush over to my grandfather who still has not woken up.

“Casey, move to the side please. Let me check him,” grandma says, coming over as well.

She mutters something underneath her breath, and lifts up both sleeves of her blouse giving me a rare view of her pale scarred arms indicating her position as a retired healing mage, as she calls upon on her magic.

From the way she is moving you can’t tell at all that she has been out of practice for years now. She is still as precise and efficient as ever.

I have to say that from all the magic that exists in this world healing magic is the one that scares me the most.

Not because of the whole carving yourself thing and the fact that using your own blood is required in order to use this kind of magic. No, it has more to do with what they represent.

Of what they stand for.

I don’t even want to go there. Not right now.

Preferably not ever.

After a few more moments of working on grandpa she sits back and lets out a sigh of relief. “It seems he has broken a few ribs and has a mild concussion, but that’s all.”

Grandma looks at me with obvious relief in her eyes. “He will be okay, Casey.”

Now that I know he is gonna be okay, all the emotions and other things that I have been suppressing ever since that first noise woke me up from my sleep earlier, start coming to the surface.

“Grandma, why didn’t you tell me that you borrowed money from those people?”

“It isn’t any of your concern, Casey.”

Rising to my knees I start screaming,” The hell it is! Grandpa could have died tonight! We are on the verge of losing everything! You should’ve-”

Whatever words were supposed to follow then will never see the light of day, as my grandmother suddenly strikes me across the face, stunning me into silence.

“Never speak to me like that again, Cassandra.” she says with a voice devoid of any emotion. “You should know better then to address your elders like that.”

I bite my tongue and blink desperately as to try to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill from my eyes.

“Now, I need to take your grandfather upstairs so I can do more healing. You stay here and clean this mess up. Only come upstairs after you have calmed down, you hear me?”

I want to scream, rage, and release the force of a thousand stars unto her.

But I know better. I can be better. I can be-

I fold into myself.

I fold and fold and fold, until that raging sea becomes silent, becomes holy.

Becomes clean and quiet.

Until I become something people can swallow.

Until I become

-good.

“Yes, grandma.”

With a quick sweep of her hand she carefully lifts my grandfather into the air in front of her.

Again, I watch as her silhouettes disappears from my sight as she and my grandfather go up the stairs.

I am not even sure why grandmother wants me to clean this up in the first place.

It’s not like it will erase what has happened. It’s not like it will do anything.

But I guess that’s just how she is. I mean, as long as you don’t look at it, it isn’t there right?

To her, the past is not something to think about. To talk about.

To her, it looks like telling me to clean up the mess in the workshop, as if everything will go back to normal once the sun has risen. As if grandpa will resume working here tomorrow, as if his illness has not returned, as if we are not on the verge of losing everything, as if she has not been lying to me, as if she has not been lying to me, as if she has not been lying to me

As if she has not been lying to me.

She is always living in either the present moment or somewhere in the future.

In my opinion, eternal erasion of the past can only lead to one thing.

Eternal despair.

If you make anywhere but the past your home, you are only fooling yourself into thinking you are free from its chains.

For the past is everywhere you are. You cannot escape it.

But hey, where is the fun in that right?

So let’s run.

Let’s try.

Tonight, I will break those chains.

Tonight, I am a bird reverting back to the ground.

I am flying back to my grave.

I told you before right?

Nothing can confine me any longer.

Home. Unbound.

I taste the taste of freedom and it is as sweet and bitter as the Uunmak cake of my grandfather’s story.

It is as bitter as the swallowing of years of unspoken words and the blood that flows with it as their jagged ends rip out pieces of my tongue in their unwavering march down.

It is as sweet as the promise that lies in the complete ruination of one’s world and one’s self.

There comes a day when you will be more shard than bone.

When you will realise that those shards are your bones.

When to be broken, when to break, will be your homeland.

Not by force. By choice.

And I have made mine.

Let a silent swan song be my legacy from this moment on.

I manage to clean up most of the mess in the shop, but unfortunately not everything could be salvaged. Also, I have totally lost track of the time. I am not sure if I have been in the worksop for fifteen minutes or if it has been closer to an hour.

The bloodstains on the hardwood floor catch my eye as I stand up to stretch my back.

Has grandpa woken up by now?

Maybe I should just go see them.

Usually it does not take long to walk from the workshop to my grandparents bedroom as it is located on the second floor of the house just above the kitchen.

But now, with every step I take on that familiar path towards them, the hands of time only seem to pull me further away.

Isn’t it funny how humans can spend their whole lives trying to overcome time’s inevitable passage?

I mean, who can blame them?

When the people who obsess most over time are also the ones who have lost the most.

I certainly fall into that category as well.

However, to me, the most interesting people in the world aren’t those who have lost the most, or those who still have more things to lose.

No. It are those who have absolutely nothing more to lose.

To be utterly bound and utterly free at the same time is something that fascinates me to no end.

How does one live like that?

How does one live like this?

Maybe we all are nothing but prisoners here. Held captive by the cruel, unforgiving hands of time.

He who relentlessy marches forward. He who never wonders where he has been or where he is going.

But most important of all; he who never stops for anyone.

Not even for himself.

Still we humans try to foolishly get him to stop walking.

But that doesn’t necessarily have to make us fools I guess. It just makes us…human.

I wonder, what does it take, to stop the hands of time?

With these thoughts still weighing heavy and spiral spinning through my mind I reach the entrance to my grandparents bedroom.

I lift my hand to knock on the door, but stop mid air.

Even though the sound is muffled by the door, I still am able to recognize it.

My grandmother’s cries.

It seems my grandfather has regained his consciousness as well for his voice soon follows after.

I knock on the door. “Can I come in?”

It becomes quiet for a few seconds until my grandmother eventually answers. “Of course, my child.”

I open the door and enter the room.

My gaze falls upon grandpa who is sitting up in their bed with his back resting against the wooden headboard. Next to him is grandmother, sitting in a chair on his rightside as she holds his hand.

Grandpa pets the empty space on his left side. “Come sit here, kiddo.”

I walk over, sit beside him and grab his other hand in my own.

“How are you feeling?”

“The only thing that has taken a severe beating this night is my pride. For the rest your lovely grandma over here..,” he says, giving her hand a light squeeze. “…has already fixed this old man up so don’t worry too much. I am fine.”

Grandmother looks at me and says, “Casey, I want to apologize for earlier. I shouldn’t have done that. It’s just that…” her voice trails off as she shares a look with grandpa. “I was just so taken back by everything that has happened tonight. Sweetheart, you have no idea what that man is capable of. That offer he made you isn’t what you think it is. He will only manipulate you into working for him for the rest of your life whilst making you do the most awful, awful things.”

She takes my right hand into her own and looks at me with the most serious expression on her face that I have ever seen her make. Even more then when grandpa was sick. “Listen to me child. If you accept his offer you will be signing your soul away. You will be signing your own life away. It is nothing but a contract with the devil.”

Her hands start shaking. “Cassandra, promise me you won’t do it. Promise me that you won’t go to him.”

“I know you just wanted to protect me and I am sorry for yelling at you too. I promise that I won’t leave you or grandpa.” I give her hand a squeeze. “No matter what.”

She gives me a watery smile. “We will find another way to solve this. I have already contacted my Nukrep to see if she knows some people that might be able to help us.”

“Don’t worry, grandma. We have survived much worse than this as a family. So there is no reason that we won’t be able to get through this as well. Besides, didn’t you always used to say that as long as you have faith things will find a way to work themselves out? So trust in that. Trust in the gods and the universe.”

I let go of her hand to cover my face to stiffle a yawn.

“This all must have been really shocking for you. Why don’t you get some rest and we will talk this over again in the morning with a fresh mind.”

I give her a small smile and give her hand another squeeze. “Yes, that sounds a good idea.”

I stand up and give each of my grandparents a kiss on the cheek. “Tu mulak anat suyuk yo haan.”

My grandmother’s eyes well up with tears at the traditional parting words. “You too, my child. You too.”

I give them a final smile and then simply walk out of the room.

As if I am not lying to them.

As if they are not lying to me.

The walk to my bedroom could not have been more different than the walk from the workshop to my grandparent’s sleeping quarters.

That one felt impossibly long, but not now. Right now, my mind is already there. It has already reached the end.

It saw what was needed to be seen and it murmured:

the garden is dead and all the flowers are burning

we are here and we are already gone gone gone and

I arrive at my bedroom door before I even know it and, without even noticing it, I have already crossed its threshold and stepped inside.

Once I have closed the door behind me I immediately grab my backpack and begin with packing.

However, I am not sure what I should bring with me.

I mean, I don’t even know what it is that I exactly am packing for.

In the end, I decide to bring only what is most important to me.

My graphein, notebook and some clothes.

Now the only thing left to do is to write a note for my grandparents so that they don’t freak out too much.

I grab the paper of one of the many unfinished sketches that are lying all around my room and turn it around so I can use the back.

I try to not look at what’s on the front and begin writing.

Dear grandpa and grandma,

I have decided to take that man’s offer.

We just can’t afford to lose our house and the shop.

This is our best bet.

Please don’t worry too much about me.

I am your grandchild aren’t I?

You have taught me well so I will be fine.

Please take good care of yourself for me.

Love always,

Casey

Ps. Grandma, I am sorry for breaking my promise to you.

Hope you understand.

Okay…now where should I leave it?

Somewhere it doesn’t get lost in the mess in my room and somewhere where my grandparents will able to find it very easily.

That means certainly not on my bed, closet, or anywhere on the floor.

I almost turn around in a full circle before my eyes land on the desk that stands in the corner of the room, right next to the window.

Perfect.

I walk across my room, side stepping piles of clothes, unfinished designs, and discarded dreams.

I lay the note on top of the desk, fingers gliding over its ridged wooden surface.

When I found this desk at a secondhand store a couple of years ago its surface was still smooth.

But now, after spending almost every night behind it since then, its surface has become worn out and turned into a barren landscape.

This is the place that witnessed the birth of many of my dreams.

And now it will be the one to witness the death of them too.

For it is time to lay them to rest.

It is time to finally grow up.

I have entertained myself long enough with those unrealistic desires of mine.

To participate in the World’s Fair and to actually win it and become Head Inventor?

The Princeps Inventus of the world?

Fuck.

I really fooled myself into thinking that I could be the one to create the next big thing.

That as long as I would focus on making those visions in my head come to life, it would all be okay.

That if I only worked hard enough I could surely make it happen.

My inventions would surely change the world.

But it has been years now and I am no further than I was on that day that I bought this desk home.

I have not managed to successfully bring a single one of my visions to life.

Every single attempt, every single project has resulted in nothing but failure.

Reality has been calling me for awhile now, but I did not want to listen.

Maybe it’s time to finally come to terms with the truth.

I am nothing but a mere child desperately clinging to some distant dream once dreamed in those early days of childhood.

I considered the fact that the realms of fantasy were my dwelling-place to be a good thing.

Now I realize that it was nothing but a facade for the cold and bitter truth.

I was merely running away.

On the days where my reality seemed too much to bear I always liked to imagine myself participating in the World Fair.

I would win and I would go on to change the world.

This thought, like a star-spangled mantle gently wrapping itself around a new born child, protected me against the cold winds of my unhomely home.

I have spend too long warming myself in the fires of my illusions.

Now I see, that if you are not careful, they may be the very ones that can smother you as well.

For the longer I spend in the flames of comfort the harder it became to see clearly.

I was blinded by the smoke from the same fires that have kept me warm.

If I would not have stopped this, my mind for sure would have ended up wandering for eternity, lost in the fogs of my own imagination.

I was nothing but a wayward dreamer who had lost his way home.

But now I can see clearly. I can see it all.

The only things that are important are the ones that are real.

And in this very moment, what’s real is the fact that we are on the verge of losing everything.

Losing our home.

Losing the shop.

Losing grandpa.

This is why I have no regrets as I climb out of my window, leaving behind the only home I have ever known.

It is a small price to pay if that means that it will remain in this world.

If that means that at least I have something to return to.

I take a look at what is scribbled on the paper the guy gave to me. It only has three words on it.

The Crow’s Nest

I have never heard of it before, but that doesn’t sound all to cozy if you ask me.

I take my Magitek Device out of my backpack and pull up the Holographic Map feature where I put in the address.

A red dot appears somewhere at the very edge of the city, near the harbors.

Above it the name Hyksengade District hovers and according to the map it is around a 45 minute walk from where I currently am.

Hyskengade District…that does sound kind of familiar. Where did I hear that name before?

After opening the local Web Portal and typing in the name a short blue wall of text pops up in front me.

The Hyksengade District (01)

Located in the north western part of the city of Nova Oriande.

Originally this city was built around a harbor and it is said that this district was the first ever to be created. Because of its proximity to the harbor the area has attracted both prostitution and migrant populations. Still to this day these are the features it is best known for. All kinds of forms of night entertainment like pubs, bars and nightclubs are its most popular hallmarks. This area used to be one of the most prosperous parts of the city, but that all changed with the coming of magic technology around a century ago. Now this is nothing but a mere dwelling-place for lowlife, criminals and various gangs.

Ah, shit. I know where I have heard this name before.

Last month the name of this district was all over the news. I believe they mentioned something about a man who was affiliated with the Sternenmeer Clan, one of the largest mafia families of the world and responsible for running a large number of underground crime syndicates. He was found dead in the Hyksengade District. Apparently it had something to do with a feud among factions within the group.

Don’t tell me that of all people my grandparents got involved with gangsters?

Well, I guess it doesn’t matter what kind of people they are anyway.

I have already made my choice.

There is no way back now.

Am I making a mistake or am I setting myself free?

(Some things are meant to be bound.)

Am I making a mistake by setting myself free?

(Am I one of those things?)

Who knows.

All that is left to do now is to look ahead.

I hoist my backpack higher on my shoulders and begin walking.