After nights of reckless laughs and sleepless nights, Leonidas, along with everyone else on board, finally arrived in the small harbor occupying the outskirts of Torchmire. Kalvin finished unpacking all the bags and Leonidas paid a hefty amount to one of the dock owners for the ship’s stay. It cost him nearly four golden ingots for a ship that size, which was not an every day price a normal worker was able to afford.

In comparison to their previous travel stop, Torchmire’s harbor was vastly smaller than Bonemount’s. A large town such as this has no room for docks and planks to be crowded on the rigid, rock-covered shore. The harbor’s dock was almost like a cove, caving into the grasps of flatland and thick plateaus of tiled rooftops and gravel roads. Sea winds swooped into the dock, cooling the sweeping air of oncoming streets and shops scattered about.

A vast array of mountains and valleys covered the horizon eastward. Past the chiseled rooftops of dock buildings, fields of green and gravy brown with no civilization but the colonies of small animals and nature’s tears made way for open land, farmland in particular. Rainfalls would grow life, and windstorms would destroy it. Patched roads were crafted for travelers and merchants, but folk who weren’t welcomed found it hard to live in a town such as this.

During the three nights it took them to arrive here, Rina kept her thoughts to herself. She spent most of her lonesome time observing and learning Leonidas’s actions. Of course, she wasn’t certain he did anything, but something in her gut kept pushing her for more and more answers. It’s like a piece of the puzzle was missing. A piece she just couldn’t find.

Kalvin jumped on the dock with a stretch that seemed to reach the clouds above him, “Ah man! Finally, land!”

Oscar tightened the bandanna around his forehead, gave Kalvin a preemptive look, and threw a bag of food over his shoulder. “Weren’t you the one most excited for the sea?”

“Well…” Kalvin shrugged, scratching the dry salt out of his stubble, “Too much of anything is no fun.”

Paris followed behind them. She had a mug of coffee in her left hand, and a sealed katana in her right. It wasn’t necessarily unusual to be carrying a blade around, but Leonidas never noticed her have any sort of weapon before. Especially one with so much energy and mystery.

“Excuse me, Paris,” Leonidas straightened his collar, his voice like a child’s question. “If I may ask, where did you happen to come by such a blade.”

“Huh?” Paris turned her head. Her attention span was low, and her mood didn’t belong to anyone except herself. “What, this? I stole it.”

Leonidas’s head jerked back at the unexpected response. His words seemed to cluster in his throat like a bundle of sticks in a fire, carefully burning without an escape. “And so I see. Do you know how to use a blade of that caliber?”

Paris wanted to ignore him, but her coffee was starting to kick in already, “You tryna’ find out pumpkin?”

“Pumpkin?” Leonidas stepped back. He looked down, realizing he was wearing all orange again. His hands shot up beside his shoulders and he began backing up, “I was just joking, of course.”

“Thought so,” Paris snapped back at him. She took another sip of coffee and picked up her pace to catch up to the others.

Faibel reached into a small travel sack and pulled out a dark book that lacked a cover. He was very good at multitasking, perhaps too good. He could walk and read at the same time, while simultaneously avoiding any oncoming traffic from horses and strangers walking beside him. How he did it—no one knew, or dared to ask.

As they walked through crowded streets, Kalvin hadn’t a clue where he was going. He was the leader of their Guild, but his sense of direction was as blind as a rock in the sand. Every now and then he would rub his chin as if he knew where he was going, then take another aimless turn, and repeat the cycle.

The streets in Torchmire weren’t too different from Worcester’s. They were just shaped a little differently, and had dozens more people in them. Instead of the usual block-like format of Worcesters streets, Trochmire just looked like a filled-out trail map.

Streets and roads seemed to have no sense of direction in any way, shape, or form. Twists and turns on the left, ups and downs on the right, staircases that led to nothing but open air, and houses seemed to be stacked atop of one another like a set of children’s toys. It was odd, yet the craftsmanship and the attention to detail were far greater than any of the architects back in Worcester.

Kalvin suggested they take a stop at the nearest bar. The main reason being for planning. The second reason being for a quick round of drinks before they set off to Nirvana.

As Kalvin flung the front doors open at a small bar in the corner of the street, he was taken back by the lack of customers inside. It was currently noon, so seeing anyone slamming drinks down would’ve been odd in itself. However, something else was off. Something he couldn’t quite put his tongue on.

This bar had no tables except for the massive one next to the barkeep. It was a large, crescent table stretching to both sides of the walls. Black stools evenly spaced themselves apart from each other, and the shelves behind the table only consisted of red and white wine, with empty wine glasses scattered throughout the remainder of the empty spaces.

A bartender stood behind the table with a mustache that was too slick and shiny to ignore. His silver hair was slightly curly, and he wore a spectacle on his right eye. His clothes were finely tailored to his body, and his hands had golden rings of sorts placed on each and every finger.

“Welcome.” His mustache curled with the tone of his voice. “What can I help you with?”

Kalvin could hear his own footsteps thud against the floor like hammers against planks. He took a seat at the crescent table, his face as puzzled and intriguing as Leonidas’s. “Do you have-”

“Yes.” The bartender cut him off instantly. “We have everything.”

“Really now?” Kalvin grinned. He then took a look behind the barkeep, noticing the bottle of red and white wine. Nothing less and nothing more. “I’ll have The Noblesse then.” He crossed his arms and gained a smug look on his face like an evil villain. The Noblesse was a drink that consisted of seventy-one ingredients and could rob a man from every penny he’s ever owned. It was a drink no one ordered unless they were packing some serious wealth inside their pockets.

The barkeep grabbed the bottle of red wine, shook it gently, and grabbed a plump wine glass from the shelves. The wine bottle tilted, and a clear red liquid poured out. “Enjoy,” insisted the barkeep with a healthy voice.

Kalvin knew he was about to embarrass this man like never before, his confidence as high as ever. He grabbed the wine glass and took a sip, keeping his grin firm, ready to taste red wine. As the liquid traveled down his throat, his mind began to race with delusions and thoughts of hysteria, energizing each and every pore on his body. The cold drink flushed down his throat so smoothly that he lodged for another sip, then another, then another. Is this what being rich tastes like? He thought to himself.

He finished the glass and started breathing as if he just ran a mile, “How did… I might require an explanation?” Kalvin relaxed in his seat, mind in awe.

The barkeep smiled, “As I said. We have everything.”

Paris took another sip of her coffee, noticing there wasn’t any left. “You got coffee in that bottle o’ yours?” She asked, her voice sounding raspy and tired.

The barkeep grabbed the bottle again and poured a steaming cup of dark-roast caffeine into her empty mug. He placed the bottle down, grabbed the bottle of white wine, and poured a hint of fresh milk into her mug.

Even Paris looked confused. “What are you? Some sort of magician? I ain’t like any of that funny business too much, but I’ll make an exception for this.”

The barkeep gave her an evil eye. “That blade on your hip dear, where did you come about it.”

Paris took a sip to determine the taste of her coffee. After confirming its rich dark taste, which she enjoyed from time to time, she smirked. “Stole it.”

The barkeep placed the bottle of wine back onto the shelf. “Hmm. Anything else I can do for you travelers?”

Kalvin exchanged a secret look with Oscar and Leonidas. This barkeep seemed far too suspicious for their taste, so dragging him into their endeavors might be the wrong idea. Leonidas seemed the most concerned of all. Considering he was in the worst position to be trusted, he tipped Kalvin off. “I think we should go.”

Kalvin nodded, “How much I owe ya?” He gestured towards the barkeep.

The man curled his mustache ever so slightly, “On the house. Although I must say, whatever it is you’re searching for, don’t get so lost in yourselves. Greed corrupts a man like no other.”

He was right. No matter how much Kalvin wanted to deny it, greed could indeed drive a man to do monstrous acts. Acts that no one dared to speak of. But greed wasn’t Kalvin’s wish. Greed was his enemy.

Kalvin got up from the stool; he was prepared to leave when another question sparked into his memory. “Where can we find—...” His eyes darted around at his group and the luggage they were carrying. “Say, four or five horses. Strong ones too. Quick if needed.”

The barkeep remained silent for a moment. He looked as if he was in deep thought, but his eyes were the secret weapon he needed. Even the spectacle on his right eye glinted in a strange way beneath the small lantern above him, “South of here. Stable of fine horses... Unfortunately, you’ll have to wait till tomorrow for good ones. The ones they got now are slow and old. And you’ll get scammed fairly easily. Best wait for the new ones.”

“You seem to know a lot more than a righteous barkeep normally would.” Leonidas raised an eyebrow.

“I know more than you hide.” He replied, delightfully.

Kalvin thanked the barkeep again and waddled out of the bar with everyone. “Let’s find a place to stay for the night,” He ordered, only getting Paris’s grumpy moans as a reply.

The barkeep patiently waited for their complete exit out of his territory, then fixed his direction onto a small wooden door in the corner. “Tesla!” He called out behind him. “Tesla!”

The small wooden door from the back of the bar flew open, and a man appeared out of the lightless room he was in. His hair was raven-black and long like hanging dark clothes drying off a rack. His eyes had black circles beneath them, and his clothes were so uncolored he almost looked like a shadow if it weren’t for his pale face.

“Whadaya want” The man named Tesla yawned.

The barkeep grinned, his mustache as lively as ever, “I found our long lost friend. Leonidas…”

…

Kalvin ended up finding a small inn on the edge of town by the docks. It wasn’t big by any means, but it would do for a single night. The rooms were small and cozy, and the view of the blissful streets at night added a gentle haze to the already warm feeling of the tiny room they bordered. Oscar, Paris and Kalvin went out drinking for the night. Faibel grabbed a book from the dozens he decided to bring along with him and Rina stayed inside, her thinking preventing her from going anywhere memorable.

Leonidas however, sneaked out for the night, without being detected. He brought his usual half-torn bag with shimbles, trinkets, and of course, the rift, tip-toeing to a secluded part of the crowded streets. An alley sparked into his view, and with the perfect enclosure of darkness and houses, he made his way inside it.

“Hello?” He tapped the sphere a few times, “Father?”

There was a slight pause for a moment. A pause of pure anticipation and a vestige of fear of what might happen. “Leonidas,” King Richard II replied, “How far away are you from Nirvana?”

Leonidas gained a devilish grin, “We’ll be there in just a couple days. I’ll take care of that bothersome girl tonight. She won’t interfere with my plans.”

The King sighed a great breath of air against the sphere, “Be quick. You’re too hesitant about getting rid of them…”

“Yes, father. I will not disappoint you again…”

“I only hope not… I’m in a restless mood today.”

“How ever so?” Leonidas asked with a tint of confusion in his voice.

The King clenched his wooden fingers against each other, making a scraping noise similar to chalk against a blackboard. “Beljuan was supposed to report back to me today. He’s a man that acts quickly. Seeing him late makes my stomach turn.”

“I’m sure he just caught a slow trip,” Leonidas chuckled innocently. “Don’t worry. Beljuan is one of your best men. He’s never failed a mission that involves a kill.”

“... Report to me tomorrow about that girl. And I better hear some good news along with it.” The King tapped the sphere and shut it off. His mind raced with anxiety, seizing his rest. His fingers ached to be around Cairo’s throat, and his eyes wanted nothing more but misery upon those who dared to match his gaze.