The Dead King

Chapter 26 – Ice the House (Part 1)

At the corner of a rundown street in Tarenfall, stood a ratty pub for the common folk. Marin had passed the building once or twice in his search earlier that day, but never would he have imagined the crumbling brick establishment with boarded up windows could be a place to dwell at for recreation.

That was though, the location the blonde haired man had directed the two of them to after a chance encounter. The outside of the tavern didn’t deter the rabble of the city – it was packed with the poor district dwellers inside, who, in their poverty state, found the building to be on acceptable terms.

This was shocking to Marin, he had never been around or experienced a low class society as this one, and he swore to himself this was the lowest one could go. Despite his questionable memory, Sullivan Marin knew at least he had experienced his previous life on a more respectable elevation in society.

The sights he experienced now weren’t of a negative feeling, however. In his current state, he appreciated the fact that he could take in a new side of the world he had never been a part of before. His attire blended him right in, and from that, he could learn more about this impoverished lifestyle without disturbing the daily lives of those around him. He almost found it fascinating.

The blonde haired chain smoker guided Marin – he walked into the tavern, found seating in a corner, and gestured the masked king to have a seat. When Marin sat down, he drank in his sights, witnessing a bar of the lowest standards he had ever seen, one full of unhygienic patrons who packed the establishment like sardines in a can. Marin couldn’t smell, but he imagined a scent similar to a barn that housed animals.

Music played, but the melodies were drowned out by the shouting of patrons, yelling over each other to get the last word in. When one failed to do so, it was becoming apparent how common it was to smash the other’s skull with a drinking mug or any other blunt object resting on the table. The entire tavern lacked any sort of glassware, Marin gathered that anything made so frail would not last a single day.

All the chaos didn’t seem to phase Marin’s new-found acquaintance, who found the entire atmosphere of the pub to be a regular occurrence.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” He asked Marin, as he noticed the king staring at the volatile events unfolding around him.

“...No, I’m not. I apologize if I’m making that look obvious,” Marin admitted, trying to refocus on the man and nothing else.

“Don’t apologize to me, I don’t care,” he responded, pulling a new paper wrapped cigarette from a pocket inside his coat.

“So, who do I have the pleasure of conversing with?” Marin asked.

“The name’s Travis.” He brought the smoke up to his mouth, and produced a small flame at the end of his finger. He lit his cigarette with it, and shook the flame out.

Travis had just exposed to Marin he was a fire elemental. Marin wasn’t sure if that was done purposely – as a show of power or even a threat – but he wasn’t impressed or intimidated. Travis was acting confidently enough, but Marin wondered how much his attitude would adjust if he had any knowledge that Marin was an elemental in the top one percent of skill level.

“You vocabulary is of a higher class than your current get-up,” Travis analyzed. “The mask as well makes me think you’re in some sort of prince-and-the-pauper situation. Did these rogues steal some valuables from a rich noble as yourself, and now you’re trying to take justice into your own hands?”

Travis kicked his feet up onto the table. Marin stared at the soles of his pointed leather boots. Travis had a smirk on his face, a look of confidence that he had figured everything about him out.

“...That’s actually fairly accurate,” Marin had to admit. “My situation is a tad more complex than that, but it’s a fair summary.”

Travis nodded. “Alright, well here’s how this will go, mister rich noble. You’ll tell me what the Scarlet Eye have taken from you, and I’ll get your stuff back in return for a coin reward.”

“The who?” Marin asked.

“They’re the faction of bandits who you speak of. They’re known by the uniform they wear – red bandannas covering their face, and leathers, black as night, with a deep purple trim. I’m privy to their hideouts and secret auctions they hold of stolen wares.”

“I thank you for the information, but I’m not out just to recover my stolen item. There’s two I want dead, and I’ll see to it that it’s done,” Marin responded threateningly.

Travis raised an eyebrow. He removed his boots from the table, and leaned forward to Marin. “Now that’s a bit extreme, don’t you think? I’m not sure you know who you’re dealing with, the people in this order are equipped with skills that are beyond the knowledge of ordinary people, like yourself.”

Marin pressed a finger to the table between them, and frost started covering the surface, emerging from the tip of his glove. “I’m not an ordinary person,” Marin said flatly.

Travis squinted his eyes deep in thought as he watched Marin expose his ice element.

“I suppose I should fill you in a bit more with my situation before we discuss anything further. I am a wizard of Arkana. I journeyed here with a friend, and this order – The Scarlet Eye – as you call them, nearly killed him, and stole a valuable necklace from me. I have encountered them before in Tresdor, and had the chance to take them out then, but opted not to. I have regretted the decision deeply, and now, you’ll be able to help me track them down.”

The suave demeanor of Travis had partially melted away as he mentally processed what he had gotten himself into. The man had sized Marin up incorrectly, no fault to him, Marin was quite the rarity, but being thrown off so much had put him in an awkward situation.

Marin recognized he needed a moment to think, and sat back into his chair, patiently waiting for Travis to come up with a response.

“...You’re from Arkana?” Travis finally asked, taking a puff from his cigarette.

“I studied there, yes.”

Travis nodded, trying his best to regain his composure. “All I know about that place is that the elementals who come from there are the real deal. You might actually be a match for the order, if what you say is true.”

Travis knew not what power was truly behind the title of wizard, but he guessed it was of significance. Coating a portion of the table in frost from a single finger was a cute trick, but it was nothing to scoff at. He had no reason to believe differently than what Marin claimed, from that alone.

“I’ll happily pay you for your help in recovering my lost item and leading me to them,” Marin responded. “Beyond that, I can take of the rest. You’ll have no qualms with me thinning their numbers, will you?”

Travis shook his head. “I’m not apart of them. I could care less what happens. In fact, it’d be nice to see them get shaken up every once in a while. You speak of two specific members though. You’re aware they are hard to distinguish with the whole covering-their-face thing they got going on.”

“I’ll know them when I see them.”

“You have a whole face covering thing going on too,” Travis pointed out.

“It’s for different reasons, I assure you.”

“Okay… okay.” Travis nodded, understanding that Marin had some mysteries to himself as well. “I’d at least appreciate a name though, to know who I’m working with. Can you spare me that information?”

Marin nodded in return, shocked he hadn’t stated that yet.

“I am Sullivan Marin, you may call me Marin if you’d like. I have to ask Travis, are you helping me just for a monetary reward, or is there more motive than that?”

“Let’s just settle on gold being the reason for now, Mr. Marin. Say… twenty shiny ones. Shouldn’t be too unreasonable for a wealthy noble as yourself.”

“I think I can do that,” Marin responded. Based on the answer Travis had given him, Marin could tell there might be more than what he was letting on, but if it meant a path to recovering his invaluable cross pendant, almost any price would have been worth it.

It was entirely possible that Travis had other stakes in the retrieval of the Scarlet Eye’s stolen items stash, whether it be thieving from thieves, or justly recovering his own lost valuables. Marin couldn’t bet on it yet though, and frankly, it didn’t matter much to him.

Travis had been keeping eyes on his surroundings for most of the conversation, a hyper focus that Marin wondered how long he could keep up. It looked tiresome to be absorbing information not just from the stranger in front of him, but constant notes on the patrons around him.

He took another drag from his cigarette. “You have a base of operations somewhere? I believe our mention of that little roguish faction has caught wind to some of the guests here.”

Marin quickly turned around to see if anyone was gazing in their direction.

Travis immediately slapped the table, causing Marin to snap his neck forward again.

“Are you dense?” Travis yelled in more than a whisper. “Don’t go looking around as if – God, you really aren’t from around here.”

Travis had gotten enough of a reading from Marin, and deemed it time for them to relocate. The King was clearly out of his usual environment, and acted more as a liability than an asset in keeping them out of trouble.

“Time for us to ditch this joint. Keep your head down, follow me closely,” Travis declared in a dreaded undertone.

Marin knew at that point they had picked up unwanted attention. Travis was sharp, and far more perceptive than Gus was. It was hard to notice anything dangerous in a room packed full of rowdy patrons, but Travis had been keeping tabs on almost all of them. It was a talent Marin had to admit that Travis was far better at than himself.

Travis stubbed out his cigarette, and loosened his blonde hair from behind his ears, causing it to partially conceal his face. He got up, and Marin followed directly afterwards.

Step by step, the floorboards creaked beneath the two of them. The sound was drowned out by the ambiance of the tavern, and Marin hoped that it would also fair for their current actions of leaving.

The sights hadn’t gone unnoticed, unfortunately. Marin and Travis passed some large, thugish brutes who sat at the bar, and every one of them were beaming at the duo. Marin became anxious feeling all the eyes on him as they passed by.

Were these advocates of the Scarlet Order? Perhaps even members who had been tracking the King this whole time? Many of these ideas clouded his mind, and he prepared himself for an encounter at any moment.

In front of him was Travis. His brown leather coat was so dark, it nearly looked black. He wore tight jeans and cowboy boots. A chain or two hung from his sides. Marin was taking notice of this for the first time. If the skinny man had a bit more muscle on him, he’d fit right in with these brutes they passed by.

Then something terrible happened that interrupted his thoughts.

One of the thugs grabbed Marin’s arm in a tight manner despite his hasty walk. This caused Marin’s body to jerk back.

Instinctively, Marin used his ability, Slow Time. This gave him more perceived time to think of a course of action than what he would normally have.

The grip was so tight, he believed that his bones would snap. His decayed body couldn’t hold up to such raw muscle, and his number one priority above all else was preserving the broken-down vessel he piloted in this mortal world.

Marin still didn’t understand how it worked, but understood it was vital nothing happened to it, since it couldn’t heal. What this man was doing risked the entire function of Marin’s left arm.

After weighing several options to respond with, he realized there was only one safe bet, and it was a path he had been trying to avoid this whole time.

The world zoomed back into normal time just as ice coated the man who had assaulted him. The ice continued to travel, similarly to a ripple of water on a tranquil pond, freezing every patron in the tavern.

The smoky frost crackled as it traveled up the bodies of every person. Some were in the middle of dancing, or walking around, and the ice caused their joints to freeze in that current motion.

The entire event lasted just two seconds, but after that short amount of time, the tavern became silent, and unmoving. What was once a bustling hotspot of activity became a peaceful museum of human-like figures on display.

The ice hit everyone – every person in the joint, that is, besides Travis and Marin himself.

Travis gawked, his head snapping in each direction as he processed what had happened. He turned around, and watched Marin as he slipped his arm out of the thug’s frozen hand.

“Oh my God,” he uttered. “Go, go!”