Pillar

Chapter Fourteen

Walking from the Garden District, the gate sliding closed with a soft clang of iron on marble, Vivian looked down at the Housing District below the bridge. People were standing around iron pit fires, charring meat over spits on their front porches. Men smoked while women walked to and from the buildings, usually in groups. The teenage girls hung out in the shadows with the guys, animatedly talking and gesturing over something that must have been epic to see. The teens she was watching from above laughed, and Vivian laid a hand down on the stone sides of the bridge.

“Must be nice,” Vivian said, fighting back her glum attitude. She was tired and hungry. The Rekham sausage had done little to her day without food, and her stomach grumbled. “Maybe the Sound of War still has some Dragon Fish stew?”

Walking along the bridge in the warm night air, Vivian watched as the lantern-lighters walked from pole to pole with their long torches, slowly chasing away the shadows to the alleyways and the hidden pools where man dared not tread. Stepping down the stairway in the Market District into the evening crowd, Vivian suddenly remembered that she had something to look forward too!

“My tattoo!” She gushed, throwing her hands up in glee.

Turning, she started walking against the crowd entering the Market District, pushing her way into the River District. She smiled at the blade merchant who was closing the overhang that covered his table and whistled to Bo and his brothers, who were packing up their salted meats and cheeses.

“There you are!” Bo laughed, Jeremy chuckling along with the messy-haired youth. His leather jerkin and thickened padded linen reached down to his wrists, where a hand bearing a single ring of copper rested on the pommel of a short sword.

“Been looking for me?” Vivian asked, wrapping her hands together behind her back as she approached, her staff held parallel to the ground by her wrists.

“Jack has,” Jeremy chimed in, his shaved head gleaming in the flickering torchlight of one of the high lamps. “Hey Roger, get Jack and tell him Vivian’s shown up!”

Roger, who was sitting at the stand with a pint of a sudsy drink, looked up and rolled his eyes. “Fine, but just because of that last sale you did.”

“Sale?” Vivian asked, her eyes dancing between the hunters.

“Yeah, the fishmongers had almost nothing worth pitching, so we made a killing today!” Bo said, thumping his chest hard. “I’m going out into the woods tomorrow to lay some traps so we can start restocking on rabbit meat. Our Rekham steaks are sold out, as are our boar ribs, sausage links… pretty much everything but our legs of goat and lamb, and jerked bear strips.”

“Let me have a few, I’m starving,” Vivian said, reaching into her satchel.

Both men waved their hands dismissivly. “No, you gave us quite the wonderful hangover this morning, so the least we can do is comp you a meal from time to time. Just don’t take advantage of our good nature.”

“Unless you’re looking for someone to spend an evening with, then Bo won’t mind.” Jeremy laughed, ducking as Bo skillfully pulled a dagger and flung it at his friend, who moved fast enough for the steel to sink into the wood of the stand and not the flesh of his arm. “Ooh, touchy about your feelings then, eh, buddy?”

Bo flushed, turning to look Vivian in her pale red eyes only to swallow a sudden lump in his throat. “S-so yeah, Jack said he should be ready to tattoo you anytime. Let’s go see if he’s busy!”

Vivian, feeling gracious, accepted the strips of salted bear jerky from Jeremy as she and Bo walked around the same fire as the night before, this time stumbling upon the tattooists and several sailors all trading stories while getting smashed on a barrel of ale bearing the Sound of War’s brand on the side. They all gave a shout of cheer when they caught sight of Vivian, who flinched at the loud noise.

Cocking her hands on her hips, she nodded to the barrel. “Who paid for the barrel?”

“You did,” Jack said, walking into view with his odd cane in hand. “I added it to your tab, which is getting steeper the longer you keep me up.”

“Sorry, I got drafted by the Royal Guard,” she said, earning a chorus of boos and hisses from the sailors and thugs, “and helped investigate something.”

“What they need a wizard for?” Jack said, setting up his stand with the jars of blue-green pigment and ashy black ink. “The higher-ups aren’t on good terms with Bleak, what with his criminal past. They try to get you to fill a job fit for his shoes?”

“No… yes… I don’t know!” Vivian said, dropping onto the bench and leaning back. Staring up at the roof, where pinned animal hides covered in faded tattoos decorated the wood, she just sighed. “Today’s’ been a long day, and they have drafted me to help with their investigation. As a contractor.”

Jack whistled. “Badge and everything?”

She looked up at him. “You know about that?”

“Working in a service industry where your customer is stuck to his seat for an hour or three leads to secrets spilling forth. I worked on a contractor about… Oh, must’ve been six winters now. Big fella carried a two-handed blade as thick as the workbench and if the table up front. Total bruiser, dressed to impress in heavy plate mail with chain shirts and leggings underneath. We had a bad troll problem backed up by a coven of hags. They were causing our crops to wither, demanding tribute for healthy fields.”

“And this bruiser went out and killed them?” Vivian asked, impressed.

“He went out and got torn apart. Killed five trolls and one hag before they ripped him limb-from-limb. They took some driftwood and vines and lashed his body, what was left, up on a pole jutting from the river just outside the wharf overnight.”

“That’s horrible,” Vivian said.

“That’s what a contractor does. With the trolls’ numbers quelled and one hag’ dead, the other two moved on to greener pastures, while the trolls dispersed. The brothers that have squatted under the bridge are the only remainders of that group.”

Jack took a rag and wiped down her arm with what smelled like kerosene, prompting a look from him. “A shot of Fyr, cleans the arm of any dirt of grime while numbing the flesh a little. The mark you want is big.”

“If you use the needles, I enchanted, it won’t be a problem,” Vivian replied with confidence.

“Right,” Jack said as he set the bottle down and settled onto a stool next to her. “Lay your arm out, yeah, just like that. Don’t tense up, and don’t move your hand until I say so, alright?”

Vivian raised one slice of jerky to her mouth, tearing away a chunk to chew on. “Got it,” she said around the bear flank. “S’cool if I eat?”

“Nice of you to ask beforehand, but yes. Just keep that spicy junk away from me or my eyes will water,” Jack said as he dipped his needle in the black paint. “Here we go!”

A slight pinch pressed its way into her arm before she instantly felt drowsy. Focusing on the burning rush coming from the multiple stab wounds, the itchy feeling the crawled up along her arm from the initial marks. Jack was quickly marking with his needle, blotting the area with a cloth after pulling away from the skin. Vivian almost smiled. It was almost… relaxing. She could feel a rush of calm overtake her and she just laid there studying the ceiling as Jack slowly wove a tapestry on her forearm.

“You know,” he said conversationally after what must have been an hour. “Most people will talk to me while on the bench. Tell me about your day.”

So, Vivian told him, starting with her work here in his shop to Ezra’s casual refusal to enchant his weapon. She groused over the job she’d done for Kiara and grumbled even more when she realized she’d left with the job virtually finished without being paid. Jack laughed at that.

“I know Kiara Tyrik, she’s good for it. Just stop by her shop tomorrow and she’ll hand over the coin,” Jack said.

Vivian then said that she had to keep in mind Ms. Hanko’s request for her to consider helping her to build’s foundation, which would require her to get a book on the Quartz Emir’s runes. She spoke at length about the snotty girls she’d met in the Garden District, earning a whistle from Jack.

“You really went in there?” He asked.

“Yeah, so?” Vivian replied.

“I’ve lived here over forty-two winters, and I’ve never been to the Garden District. You’ve been here less than a month and you get invited up for… what was the reason again? Couldn’t have been a social call seeing how you dealt with the brats.”

She chuckled and told him about the deaths in the River District, and how she’d spent the better part of the day identifying the key factors regarding the corpses. Jack was silent during this, dipping his needle in the black-coated jar several times every few pokes. When she got to how the bodies had risen as vessels, Jack stopped and lowered his voice, leaning in over her.

“Best keep your voice down, don’t want to startle the natives,” he whispered before righting himself.

She nodded drunkenly, riding high on the calming effect of the needle’s enchantment. It was making her mind fuzzy and her thoughts slow, and easing her to sleep, which she would have succumbed to had she not been on the uncomfortable bench. When she commented on it, Jack laughed.

“An added benefit to not installing padding like my students say I should,” Jack said. “Alright, now I’m going to add the powdered gemstone.”

“Just follow the diagram, please.” Vivian pleaded.

“Look up at the designs on the ceiling, those are all done by me. Not one of them has a flaw. Just look for one while I work on your arm.”

Vivian did, scrutinizing the various pictures of Frilled Drakes coiling down along waves, their massive jaws open with flames erupting out onto the shields of several armored warriors holding steadfast. Between that and dozens of pictures of skulls and sirens, Vivian couldn’t find a single flaw in the pictures. They all looked classical, well colored, with solid line work and shading that made them almost three-dimensional.

Jack was a true artisan at his trade.

As Vivian was about to comment, she felt a cold towel press over her forearm, stinging slightly. “Don’t worry,” Jack said. “Just a mixture we used to moisturize the skin and speed up the healing.”

“You’re done?” Vivian asked, her head lowering from the clouds.

“Yup, and your work on the needles was fantastic. I didn’t have to stop and switch to a new set the entire time,” Jack said, smiling down at her. “Just lay there and eat some jerky for a few minutes while I gather up some supplies for your aftercare.”

“Aftercare?” Vivian repeated, looking down at one stick of jerky with a rumbling stomach. She bit into the peppery flank and chewed it slowly, savoring the charred meat. When Jack returned from the festivities outside the shop, he had a small jar.

“This is a Jasmine lotion, rub your tattoo with it twice a day and clean it using cold water. Keep it covered in linen wraps until it heals, and try not to bump it into thing. You bruised something fierce.” Jack explained, taking her arm and holding it up for her to examine.

Perfection.

It was her diagram, perfectly drawn out and then mirrored to create something that looked like an abstract key going down towards her wrist.

“I want to test it,” she said, licking her lips.

“Test what?” Jack asked, a roll of linen bandages in his hand.

“Just follow me,” she said, standing up to walk to the party taking place outside the shop. She found everyone in good spirits, with Bo having slung his arms over Jeremy and Roger, all three grinning as they passed a bottle between each other. Ezra was sitting off to the side enjoying a wedge of cheese from a large wheel, a mug of ale resting on his knee. He smiled and waved at her, earning a smirk from the wizard.

“Hey! Who wants to make a silver?” She shouted above the general chaos of the revelers.

A woman with powerful arms and a bandanna covering her head raised her flagon. “Over here, little girl! I could always use some change!”

“Well, I’d love to offer you some!” Vivian said with a smile, reaching into one of the tattooist’s money pouches despite their cry of disapproval. “A silver says you give up in a bare-knuckle fist fight with me. No weapons, meaning I’ll take off my rings and leave my staff.”

“You’re challenging me to a fight foreigner?” The woman laughed, tossing her golden locks over her shoulder. She wore a short-sleeved tunic and a pair of leather breeches, a knife in a holster strapped around her left thigh. She pulled the short knife and tossed it to the side. Cracking her knuckles as the tattooists gave her and Vivian a bit of room for their tussle. Vivian pulled off her rings and handed her staff to Jack, who looked worried.

“Vivian, what are you doing?” Jack whispered.

She smirked. “Paying a silver to test a theory… or practice my healing spells in the morning.” 

“That chest plate coming off?” The woman asked, earning a surprised squeak from Vivian, who’d forgotten about her boiled leather covering.

“Uh, yeah, I guess. Try to aim for my face though, I have a chest wound from a troll that’s still healing over,” Vivian said as she reached around and began undoing the lacing of the back piece. “He got me pretty good, and I’d rather it didn’t open up.”

“Right, so c***k you in the face, got it!” The woman laughed, taking a swig from her flagon of ale, earning hoots and hollers from the revelers.

“Don’t let Jenna scare you V, you can take ‘er!” Bo shouted, earning laughter from around the gathered friends.

Jenna, the muscled woman with shoulder-length hair beneath a bandanna, looked over at Bo and smiled. “That’s right, darling, keep rooting for the skinny girl. Maybe she’ll come crying to you once I rough her pretty face up!”

Vivian let her boiled chest plate fall with a resounding thud to the floor, leaving her with linen wrappings from her midsection over to just over her generous bust. A faint brown stain marred just below her ribs above her navel, giving Jenna a moment’s pause.

“You sure about this girl? I mean, I know I may not look it, but I scrap with angler and sailors all day, every day. And I will not pull my punches just because you have a larger bark than your bite.”

“I want you to focus on my face, otherwise I’ll be fine. I’ll look at it as a learning experience to learn when not to punch above my weight.” Vivian said with a smirk, earning chuckles from the men.

Jenna scowled. “Okay, you really want me to kick your scrawny ass, don’t you?”

“Bring it!” Vivian said.

Jenna started off at a slow pace, breaking into a trot as she closed the distance between herself and Vivian. Vivian raised her recently tattooed arm and frowned. Against her dusky skin the metallic blue lines began to flare to life and raced along her skin, forming one half of the abstract key. Everyone let loose a breath as a whoosh of energy dropped around them, washing over them like an upended tub of water.

All broke into whispers, then more than Jenna’s stride faltered and she fell to the ground with a groan. Vivian smiled, holding up her hand as she stared at the glowing runes on her arm.

“What happened?” Kaden asked, stepping forward to turn Jenna over. He gasped when he saw her, withered like she hadn’t had food or water for days. Groaning and smacking her chapped lips together.

“W-water…” she begged.

“Sure, once you admit I won,” Vivian said.

“S-sure, whatever y-y-you say, girl. Ain’t going to m-mess with you again,” Jenna rasped, bring up a withered hand to cough into.

“Alright, second half of this test,” Vivian said, pointing her arm palm open at Jenna. Kaden moved to get in the way, his lone eye glaring at her. “Just move, I’m going to fix her.”

Kaden frowned, but stood down. Pulling on the gathered energy stored in her tattoo, she sent out an invisible pulse into Jenna’s prone form, filling out her dried limbs and cracked lips to their former glory. The woman blinked before pushing herself up. Looking at her hands, she looked up at Vivian with a shaky, scared expression only to flinch something small struck her chest, falling to the cobblestone with a clatter.

Vivian was gathering her armor and tying it back on as Jenna picked up the silver coin. “But… we didn’t even fight!”

“Yeah, we did. Someone stronger than me showed themselves and threatened me, and I handled them without having to use my staff or rings, which may not always be around when I need them,” Vivian said, pulling the last buckle tight to seal her chest back up in the protective shell, “you needed to think of this as a real fight, and you did. That made the trial fair, in my eyes”

“That was horrible!” Jenna said, shivering despite the warm night and crackling fire set in the bronze brazier. “It felt like I was dying of thirst and that I had gone weeks without sleeping or rest.”

“Well,” Vivian said with a sad smile. “Thanks for the fight. Spend the silver wisely.”

She thanked Jack, who was staring at her with a calculating glint in his eyes, and nodded to Ezra and the hunters, before Vivian set off towards the Market District, chewing on her bear jerky as she slowly made her way along the empty roads, passing between the shadows at the end of each area of luminescence shed by the lampposts.

Looking up at the night sky, Vivian smiled at the expansive sight of the azure moon and its sun, dominating the heavens.