Heirot

Havi glanced at Laurius as if he hadn't taken a good look at him before. "Yes... I imagine everything seemed extremely bizarre for you." He walked a few moments more, and the conversation seemed about to fizzle out again. "Friendship is not really a priority there. Males are encouraged to have comradery with others in their harems, but it is frowned upon to build up more meaningful relationships. They could interfere or compete with prioritizing one's Yurivis properly."

Laurius thought for a moment about Havitharon's comment before saying, "Well, no competition here. Even if I wanted to marry Tenara, her parents would hardly allow it, and if they..." Laurius faded off. He most certainly wasn't in the running to marry Tenara, especially now. It had all been a ruse to begin with, just so her parents wouldn't think twice about letting her sail across the sea to Ighten to stay in his home. After this book adventure was over, they would likely go their separate ways. He and Ren would go one way, and Havitharon and Tenara would go the other, having no reason for their paths to cross again... He frowned deeply, only to shake off the sour thought to adopt a forced smile. "So, I guess you are free to make friends, if you like."

Ahead of them, an iron archway lit with a single lantern hanging at its apex framed the entrance of a bridge. A red-orange light burned up from the cavern below, glowing against the stones and calcified trees. Across the iron bridge was a staircase leading into a cave lit by oil sconces, and above them, looking like a shadow-cloaked specter, was the menacing, gothic architecture of the Citadel. Laurius slowed to a stop as they approached the bridge, looking up to the red-black sky, and the pale glow of the sun trying desperately to break through the smog. It was a faint red circle behind the Citadel's tallest peak.

"We're here," he said. "We've beat the sisters thanks to Tenara's vampiric father. So, let's make ourselves at home and wait for them to arrive. If they haven't showed in two weeks, we'll move on to Arroes."

Havi followed the man's gaze up to the sky and resisted an urge to cough on the sulfuric fog. People really lived here? He stole a glance at Laurius. He had lived in this place, alongside those sisters. His imagination did terrible things with that idea. No, he reminded himself, things didn't work that way on this world. Males would not have been gifted like prize studs to Yurivie like those sisters.

But even if that wasn't the case, why did he still get the impression that something equally disturbing had happened to Laurius at this place? Something wasn't right with him. The man wasn't speaking or acting like he normally did. Was he feeling subdued because he'd been forced into this mission? Or maybe he feared this place? More obvious than that was the face he'd lost his fortune and his home in a matter of weeks.

"Two weeks," he repeated the man's words, contemplating the smothered sun. "It is a long time to sit still. What is it that... friends normally do here for pastime?" He stumbled only a moment on the word 'friends'. Laurius had referred to him that way earlier, but he wasn't certain if they were. It seemed ill-advised to ask the man how to tell. When he had been direct with Tenara about not understanding love, it had hurt her to realize that he didn't grasp it. What if friendship was the same way? For now, it seemed better to assume Laurius was correct, and they were friends.

"Well," Laurius said as he stepped out onto the bridge, glancing down at the distant, fiery river. "It really depends on what you enjoy. There's a market in the basement—old cells turned into merchant stalls. You can get just about anything you want there, from something to eat to ingredients for spells. You can even purchase people, whether to sleep with or torment as test subjects. There are two taverns, one in the market and one in a tower at eye-level with the mouth of the volcano. It offers a pretty good view. Other than that, there are paths through the petrified forest if you need to clear your head, and a wealth of knowledge about every dark art you could possibly imagine."

Laurius waited for Havitharon on the other side. "I spent most of my time in the library for... multiple reasons. But, I don't imagine you'll find it very interseting given there was a kink thrown into your reading lessons..." He paused then, slipping his hands into his pockets. "I suppose I could teach you to pass the time. If you want the help, that is."

The Ivis tilted his head and contemplated the way Laurius's mind thought about things. It seemed like the first things that came to mind were markets and taverns. That made sense, since he was a merchant by trade. Then one of those things would probably raise his spirit. "Yes. Perhaps the market will have a way to fix your hair." Havi's mouth twitched slightly. He'd been in a dismal mood all day, but Laurius's offer made him feel lighter for a moment, like the pressure around them, around this mission, lifted just slightly.

Laurius's lips twitched into something, though not quite a smirk. He took one last look at the iron bridge, the petrified forest, and the red-tinted sky, as if he were going into a cave from which he might never return. Then, he took an ill-advised deep breath of poisonous air, and sighed out whatever worries were bothering him. The corners of his mouth tugged a little higher as he reached up to run a hand over his unevenly singed hair. "Yes, well, perhaps we can find you a better fitting ring to offer Tenara? Hm?"

He turned for the mouth of the cave that wove through the mountain toward the citadel at its top, and stepped into the dark. Thirty minutes later, they arrived at an iron gate leading into a courtyard that gave a perfect view of the red sky, the towers, and the hazy sun. A man stood at a stone gatehouse outside the iron bars, a quill in his hand and a book at the ready. "Good day," the man said, his chipperness in sharp contrast to the gloom around him. "State your business."

"I'm Laurius Marnigan," Laurius said, not hesitating in providing his true, full name to the gatekeep. "I'm a weapons crafter, sent by the crown to do research on a new project. You'll find I'm already in the registry, and I have a marker on file."

The gatekeep nodded as Laurius spoke. "Good, good," he said, and turned for a different book, opening it to a blank page. He took up his quill. "I'll need to verify it remembers you."

"Of course," Laurius said, and offered his hand to the man. The chipper man got a hellish glint to his eyes before jabbing the quill down on Laurius's finger, drawing a well of blood. Laurius hissed and pressed his finger to the page. The blood soaked in, absorbed like a sponge, and a rune appeared on the page, and his name, with his signature, beneath it.

"Welcome back, Graduate Marnigan. As always, since you are an alumni of the citadel, you have access to boarding in the student quarters, the library, and available laboratories," the gatekeep said. He slammed the book shut, and turned his gaze on Havitharon. "And who is your companion? Husband? Lover? Future Graduate?"

"Business partner," Laurius said, smiling.

"He'll need to sign the ledger," the man said, opening a different book to a different blank page. He readied his quill and held out his hand for Havitharon's.

Havitharon did not look pleased with the man. He had seen what the magic of this world could achieve when supplied with blood, and wasn't sure about making his own the catalyst for a spell he didn't understand. He cast a sharp, skeptical look at Laurius.

"It's fine," Laurius said, nodding toward the book. "He's just checking that you are who you say you are, and when we come back..." They wouldn't. "...you'll be on file."

"It's this or you get processed the old way," the gatekeep said, looking a little excited about that.

"What's the old way?" Laurius asked.

"Strip, search, interrogation," he said.

Laurius sighed, crossing his arms. "Just let him poke you."

Havi glowered menacingly at the guardsman, but stomped up to him and presented his hand for 'poking'. He wiped his bleeding hand on his pants with a derisive growl.

"And your name?" the gatekeep prompted, seeming unshaken by Havi's contempt.

"Havitharon Ruthe."

The gatekeep scribed the name into the book with the same blood Havitharon had given the book. "Interesting name," the man said. "I've never seen a demon like you. You must be the last thing the Almighty Verin produced before..." The man seemed to grow so sad then, and lowered his head. He whispered a prayer, and slammed the book shut before reaching for a lever. The iron gate began to rattle upward and open. "If you require any unique meals, Mr. Ruthe, please let the cafeteria know. We have a supply of fresh blood, a stock of men and women should you require intimate sustenance, and we can aquire a virgin, if a sacrifice is needed."

Laurius pressed his hand to Havitharon's back. "Yes, they are very accommodating," Laurius agreed.

"Do you need a map?" the gatekeep called as they passed into the courtyard.

"No, I'm fine. I remember the ways..." Laurius said, not entirely sure he did. But, he was alright with wandering around until it came back to him. "And we're in... To the market? Or would you like to see the rooms?"

Havi was holding his tongue firmly in check, but the 'services' the guard had offered him, and Laurius's familiarity with them, had rankled his interest in this place. If the merchant hadn't so clearly shown his dislike for the citadel, Havi might have turned his frustration toward him, but the discomfort he'd sensed in the man was still there, so he let his displeasure simmer without a target.

The last thing he wanted to know right now was what kind of horrors people like that sold at a market, but then he thought of how The Book might very well end up there. "We should see the market," he said seriously.

Laurius nodded and paused in the courtyard, looking around. There were people coming and going, some mingled in the corners of the stone area in groups. He remembered breezing through here, moving from one wing to the other. "This way," he finally said, and nodded towards an arched entry way to a stairwell.

The market sat three floors beneath the citadel. It was a maze of corridors and converted prison cells, each one dedicated to a specific merchant and their wares. The walls were lit by torches and colored glass lanterns, offering a dim warm glow to the space. It was crowded. Most of the people he had expected to be in the courtyard were down here, breezing in and out of shops. It was chaotic and loud with voices echoing off the damp, black stone walls. There was every manor of shop—herbs, potions, body parts, clothing, furniture, books, souls, meats, pastries, people. If you could think of it, if you could want it for anything at all, no matter how good or awful, it was there.

Laurius seemed to move through the market with blinders on, staying focused on the lanterns or the floor. He ignored the calls of the merchants to bring attention to the wares they offered, but took note of the types of things they sold. "We should find a forge and get a new sheath for your sword," he told Havitharon, raising his voice above the roar. "There used to be a blacksmith a ways off. Maybe the barbershop is still on the way..."

"Eyes," said a man nearby. "I've got a fresh shipment of them. Blue. Beautiful blue. Will make for good spellwork or replacement. Do you need any eyes, sir?" the man asked Havitharon, holding up a jar filled with blue eyes. They all swiveled to look at him, pressing up against the jar's walls.

"What? I can barely hear you," the Ivis complained as they wove through the maze-like bazaar.

Havi's arm twitched to strike when a jar of eyes was suddenly thrust toward him, but he was able to stop himself. These stone halls felt eerily similar to home, except on his world, there would never be this many people in one space, and he wouldn't be the tallest person in the crowd. He kept sensing eyes on him from behind his line of sight, and it put him on edge. Perhaps having a literal jar of them pushed in his face had snapped his last thread of civility. "Out of our way," he snarled at the jar's owner. He didn't even want to ask where all the eyes had been obtained.

The merchant didn't seemed bothered by Havitharon's attitude, as if it were a regular occurrence for him to be barked at. He simply turned to bother the next person passing through.

As they walked, Laurius noticed how Havitharon's horns almost scraped the ceiling, and how he had to duck just slightly when moving from one corridor to the next. So, when they came to the barber shop on the way to the blacksmith, and he noticed the ceiling was a foot lower than before, said, "Do you want to wait out here for a moment while I take care of this?" He ran a hand over his brittle, burned hair. "I wouldn't wander too far though..."

Havi hesitated, weighing the pros and cons of the being out of the crowd but squashed in tighter quarters. He muttered something to himself, bowing under the curtain that served as the door of the establishment and following Laurius in.

He might have chosen to wait outside had he known every eye in the room would be suddenly fixed on them. Every stylist there was either gaping at Laurius, the mess everyone wanted to fix, or staring at Havi, whose shiny but unstyled midnight blue hair hung nearly to his hips. One stylist literally abandoned his current customer to follow the others in wafting towards the two men.

"You've already got your guy, Arin! I saw this one first," his colleague challenged, shooing Arin back toward his client.

"I'm the best at restoration, and you know it. He needs specialized care. Oh, Goddess, and he's a ginger," the man cooed.

"Specialist, my ass. Get back over there."

Meanwhile, three other stylists peered at Havitharon and started doing some sort of ritualized hand signal tournament between them.