The Land of Flames

The next few days were dull. Yes dull was the only word that I could say to describe them. Since I had a week to get this mob boss the item all I had to do was go through to find more about it.

I had to at least go around collecting information about this "Silver tear" thing before I did the shitty heist. The first was mostly spent inside the apartment from mostly digging through the mail, internet to gather information.

Artifacts themselves were particularly common so it shouldn't have been hard to find information on something like this but the damn internet was so shit that it took goddamn 5 minutes to load something that shouldn't have taken even a second.

But that wasn't the only shitty thing about the next was that I found about 30 different items named silver tear that had a connection to Musspell at least and hundreds more that were known at least.

It would take me about a whole day to go through all of these articles or so called information about this item.

Like I was seriously stupid I really didn't ask much about this Silver tear from that owl that I could even conduct the heist.

I seriously wished at times like these to be able to turn back time so I would be able fix stuff like this but it wasn't meant to be.

Taking a deep breath I focused on what I could do to correct the mistake I had made. I couldn't contact them since I didn't know their contacts or something and I couldn't be sure that they wouldn't have moved their base by now or even would be there.

"Should I use a familiar?" I questioned myself. It was a valid question since a familiar would probably be better and would get to the location faster and could ask about the general look and ability of the artifact from Mr. Zeed.

Of course it might make my location obvious. Ahhhhhh, why couldn't magic be more convenient like seriously one spell could ruin everything.

The decision weighed heavily on me. Sending a familiar was risky, but so was going in blind. I had to make a choice soon, or else I'd be stuck here sorting through this mountain of useless information for days. Every hour wasted was one step closer to Zeed sending his goons after me if I didn’t deliver.

"Alright," I muttered to myself standing up from the table I had been sitting on. "Let's consider the pros and cons."

Sending the familiar meant potentially tipping off Zeed or worse, one of his enemies. But it also meant getting the details I desperately needed. I couldn’t exactly do this job without knowing what the Silver Tear looked like or what it could do. Knowing Zeed, he wouldn’t be forgiving if I brought him the wrong artifact. That would likely mean a bullet in the head — or something worse, knowing the circles he ran in.

On the other hand, I could just brute force this research. Keep grinding through these articles until something useful showed up. But that was dangerous too. Time was running out, and the longer I spent here, the more likely it was that I’d miss my chance to pull off the heist smoothly. Or worse, someone else might beat me to it.

I stared at the cluttered table where I’d spread out my notes and opened tabs. The flickering laptop screen taunted me with its agonizingly slow progress. I slammed it shut in frustration.

"Screw this."

I immediately unbuckled my cuff and pulled it down to show the intricate tattoo-like design in my forearm.

For some reason this brought a smile to my face since it brought nostalgia. I could still remember mom screaming at me for getting a tattoo since my family wasn't big on getting tattoos and for that reason didn't like it to allow getting familiar.

"Der Geist, der durch die Unterwelt wandert, das Geschöpf, mit dem man sich anfreunden kann, ich nenne dich Amon, meinen ewig gebundenen Diener."

A chilling filled the room as soon as I uttered the last syllable. Shadows danced and twisted in the corners, converging to form a dark mass that slowly took shape. Emerging from the gloom, a creature that could only be described as part dog, padded forward, its eyes gleaming with a sharp intelligence.

Amon. My familiar.

"You called?" Amon spoke in a quiet whisper that would have been impossible to hear yet I heard it clearly.

I took a deep breath. “I need your help,” I said, the words feeling heavier than they should. “I need to locate someone. Mr. Zeed. He’s got information about an artifact called the Silver Tear. Can you find him and ask him for details? Just tell him I sent you."

Amon tilted his head clearly annoyed by my request. "Tch, fine I will help but you should know the price?"

"Yeah, one medium rare steak."

Amon gave a small chuckle that made himself seem like a cute pup rather than a hellhound he should be still seeing the face just made me sad.

"Good. Don't forget the garlic butter this time," he spoke in jest before dissolving into the shadows.

The room returned to its usual dim light, and the chill left with him. I rubbed my arm absentmindedly, the tattoo still faintly glowing from the summoning.

While it would be seen as lazy to not go back myself but I just didn't want to walk around too much and sending Amon would be less taxing.

As I waited for my familiar, I walked to the kitchen and made myself a cup of coffee that I could drink and pass the time reading on the new research on the mechanics of a basic shield spell.

The coffee was hot not preferable for drinking on such a planet but addiction wouldn't allow me to leave it alone.

I sipped my coffee and felt the warmth spread through me. It calmed my nerves, at least a little. I glanced at the clock. Amon would need time, but not too much. He was efficient, even when he took his sweet time about it.

As there wasn't much I could do except wait for Amon I decided it was better to busy myself otherwise I would be too stressed. That was when I saw the notes on a spell that I was working on peaked out from my suitcase and had a bright idea to review them.

Magic, was interesting to say the least. I couldn't say I was amazing at it but I was good enough to get the job done.

The entire system was based on the idea of knowledge. Essentially, magic is the act of bringing about phenomena—that either exist naturally or can be created by drawing upon knowledge.

One could call Magician Scientists that wanted to improve on the world around them, manipulating the very fabric of reality by understanding its underlying principles. The more one knew about something, the more powerful their magic became.

Magic as whole could be powered by Mana or many would call Soul or Life force that everyone naturally produced.

I could feel my mind wandering as I stared at the notes. Theories and formulas on enhancing shield spells swirled in my head, mixing with thoughts of the Silver Tear. Was it worth risking my life for some artifact? Then again, there wasn't much choice when someone like Zeed gave you a deadline.

I took another sip of coffee, allowing myself to relax a bit. Just as I was starting to focus again, I heard a sharp noise behind me—a low growl, followed by a cold breath on the back of my neck.

"AHHH!"

I nearly jumped out of my skin, my heart racing. I spun around to find Amon sitting calmly on the counter, his head tilted to the side with an amused expression.

"Did you enjoy your little break?" Amon asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

I exhaled slowly, trying to steady myself. "Do you have to do that every time?" I muttered, rubbing my chest to calm my erratic heartbeat.

Amon only smirked, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. "You should expect it by now. Keeps you on your toes."

"Yeah, yeah. So, what did you find?"

The amusement faded from his expression as he spoke. "I found Mr. Zeed. He wasn't pleased, but he gave me the information. The Silver Tear is rumored to be an artifact created by Corazon."

I froze, my mind racing. Corazon? The Corazon? The name alone sent shivers down my spine. He was one of the most famous—and dangerous—artifact creators in history. If the Silver Tear was truly made by him, then this wasn't just another heist. This was something far more significant, and dangerous.

"Corazon, huh?" I said slowly, letting the name roll off my tongue. "You sure?"

Amon nodded, his expression serious. "That's what Zeed believes."

I leaned against the counter, my mind trying to process the information. Corazon's name had been attached to dozens of artifacts over the years, but very few were ever confirmed to be his. If the Silver Tear really was one of his creations, it meant this job was far more dangerous than I'd anticipated.

"Great," I muttered, rubbing my temples. "Just what I needed. A famous artifact with a deadly backstory."

Amon chuckled softly, his form shimmering slightly as if he could vanish at any moment. "You always do get yourself into the most interesting situations, don't you?"

I couldn't help but laugh at that. He wasn't wrong. My life had never been simple, and this heist was shaping up to be one of the more complicated ones. But at least now, I had a lead.

"Thanks, Amon," I said, reaching for my notes again. "I owe you that steak."

"Damn right you do," he said with a toothy grin before fading back into the shadows.

As the room returned to its normal state, I stood there for a moment, collecting my thoughts. Corazon… What had I gotten myself into?

Maybe I needed a fresh perspective. The area where the Silver tear is located should be in the southern district about a kilometre from here.

Picking up the coat and checking my Rune to see it was working and I still felt the slight breeze, after which I walked out into the blazing streets of Logi.

The streets of Logi were unforgiving as ever, with air so dry it physically hurt to breath and a smell of burnt tar and flesh in the air.

Only Formorians were out in the streets although that wasn't too unbelievable since this was their planet they would have adapted to the heat a long time ago.

My first order of business was to head to the Southern part of Logi since the silver tear was located there.

From my research or more correctly listening into conversations that part belonged to the Ricmod family and at least the current most famous person from that was someone named Goda.

A long breath escaped my lips as my head still spun from what I had now known about Corazon. This life never cut me any breaks but this was just stupid. Yet, there was nothing to bitch about. Life was life, and I'd better play the hand I'd been dealt.

With every step closer to the Southern district, it felt heavier, as if I was walking towards my grave. I couldn't help but feel this wasn't going to end well. But then again, did anything ever? Life has an ironic way of showing you no matter how hard you try, you're just another speck in the universe, bound to be forgotten.

Eventually I reached the Southern part of Logi yet the sudden change hit me as even though Musspell wasn't the most advanced planet in the galaxy but the southern part was a new low.

The Southern District of Logi felt like a different world entirely. Crumbling buildings leaned into narrow alleyways, The air here was even worse, thick with the stench of decay. I pulled my collar up, trying to block out the smell, but it was useless. The scent clung to everything like a second skin.

As I made my way through the district, I kept my eyes open for any signs of the Ricmod family. Their influence would be huge in this part at least and it didn't take me long to find something that at least I thought would be exactly that.

The streets were filled with people yet these ones had one major difference from the normal citizens that I had met before and it was the clothing which was more like random pieces that barely fit were just worn to protect themselves.

The people here, ragged and weary, moved without purpose it was a familiar feeling. Something like nothing mattered and no matter what you did everything will remain as it is.

Looking around made me feel nauseous and to avoid it I kept my head down.

"Focus." I began to mutter like a mantra.

I continued deeper into the district, glancing at the crumbling buildings that lined the streets. Graffiti adorned the walls, most of its symbols and markings I couldn’t understand, but one symbol kept repeating—a jagged crescent moon crossed by a sword. The Ricmod family’s crest, no doubt.

From what zeed had sent over the past day was that the item would be in the main building that was in the middle of the district and that it was protected by armed guards other than that nothing should be there that the items would be kept in the wall.

As I turned a corner, I spotted a small bar tucked between two dilapidated buildings. The sign above the door was barely readable, but the neon lights flickering in the windows told me it was still open for business.

Maybe they could point me in the right direction.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door and stepped inside. The smell of stale alcohol and sweat hit me immediately, and the dim lighting did little to mask the grime that coated every surface. A few patrons sat at the bar, nursing their drinks, while a couple of others played cards at a table in the corner. They all looked up as I entered, sizing me up before quickly losing interest. Good.

I walked up to the bar and nodded at the bartender, a burly Formorian with sharp, black eyes and grey skin. He barely glanced at me as he wiped down a glass with a dirty rag.

“What’ll it be?” he grunted without looking up

"Information," I replied keeping my voice as monotone as possible. "Specifically about the location where I can find the center mostly building. I want to take pictures as a tourist."

I immediately showed him my phone.

The bartender's eyes flickered towards the phone for a split second before narrowing. He wasn't buying my tourist act, but that didn't surprise me. Still, I needed to play it cool. I forced a smile, trying not to let my unease show.

“Tourist, huh?” he muttered, setting the glass down. He leaned in closer, the smell of cheap booze and something far worse hitting me full force. “Tourists don't usually come to this part of Logi. Especially not lookin' for the Ricmod family.”

He knew exactly what I was after. The question was, how much was he willing to share?

Before I could say anything an arm came up behind me and stopped on my shoulder.

"Well, I can show you where you want to go." A voice came from behind me specifically two steps from our positions I could kick him.

The grip on my shoulder wasn’t firm but sloppy, the kind that came from someone who was more drunk than dangerous. I turned slowly, ready for anything, but what I saw wasn’t the threat I expected.

The man behind me was not a Formorian, but a Bregmian—one of the amphibious races that lived on the water planets. His skin was a sickly blue-green, mottled with patches of dryness, and his eyes, large and watery, struggled to focus on me. He was clearly drunk, swaying slightly as he tried to keep his balance. His clothes were soaked in a mix of alcohol and something that smelled like brine.

"Hey…you lookin' for…what was it?" He squinted, trying to remember his own words. "Ah, yeah, centre place. Big buildin’.” His speech slurred badly as he hiccuped. "I can show ya…yeah…know every…where."

I could hear the bartender sigh from behind me. “Don’t listen to him,” the bartender growled. “He’s three sheets to the wind and always is. Leave my customers alone, Revek.”

Revek, the Bregmian, blinked sluggishly and then turned to glare at the bartender. "Hey! I ain’t… ain’t causin’ no trouble! Jus’…helpin' a tourist." He gave me a sloppy grin, showing off sharp, yellowed teeth. “We’re all frien’s here.”

“Sure we are,” I muttered, trying to gently remove his hand from my shoulder. But he clung on, stubbornly refusing to let go. I glanced back at the bartender, hoping for some help.

The bartender rolled his eyes. “I’d recommend getting away from him before he pukes all over you. Happens at least once a week.”

“Hey!” Revek protested weakly, clearly offended. “I only puke on people who deserve it!”

“Yeah, and last week that was my best customer. So, either help this guy out or get lost, Revek.”

Revek blinked at me again, his alcohol-fogged brain trying to process the situation. “Right, right…helpin’ out,” he muttered to himself, finally letting go of my shoulder. He swayed on his feet for a moment before pointing a wobbly finger in the direction of the door. “You follow me…I’ll… I’ll show you where…where the Ricmods are. I know ‘em, y’know. Know 'em real well. They'll listen to me…"

“Fantastic,” I muttered, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

Before I could decide whether to actually follow this drunkard, the bartender gave me a sympathetic look. “Look, if you’re desperate enough to follow this guy, you’re probably desperate enough for a drink first. On the house.” He poured a shot of something strong and pushed it towards me. “You’ll need it.”

"Sorry I don't drink." I immediately replied and walked behind Revek.