The Girl Who Sold Magic

[TheWordsOfTyr]

With a thunderous crash, the wine glass shattered into a thousand pieces, joining the jagged snowfall on the floor, gathered like dust on a shelf.

"Shitfaced bastard!" Expelled in one breath came the frustrated voice of a small woman.

"Running out of creative ones?" A bemused man responded, sliding across another expendable glass. "Freddie deserves something a bit more inventive."

Nessa reached up to the table, perching on the tips of her toes to grab it, testing its weight for a moment before chucking it with all the emotion she was willing to spend for the night. Like the others, it shattered against the wall, leaving a larger mess for Jimmy to clean up in the morning.

"Fuck." Was all she could muster this time.

Jimmy held up the next glass expectantly but Nessa lifted a hand to wave him off. Rather than put it away, he uncorked a nearby bottle of wine and poured her a tall glass of liquid courage. With the theatrics over with, Jimmy collected his frosted tumbler of Ionan whiskey and enjoyed a long sip, watching the Gnome stew in her frustration.



"So, how ye finding Queensedge?" Jimmy smiled, ignoring the carnage.

"It's, uh…" Nessa trailed off, climbing onto a stool to take her glass as she moved her hair out of her eyes. "... I'm getting used to it. Nothin' like the Federation."

"I think we all are. It's only a matter of time though." He nodded to himself, offering her a kind smile.

"I like working at the bar though, don't get me wrong on that. Despite what went down between Freddie and Flo, it's way better than what I used to do." Nessa forced a tired smile. "Wouldn't be… eh, I can't think of anything. Just pretend I said something sweet like usual."

Jimmy let out a barely contained laugh, leaning back and taking another gulp of the amber gold as it subsided.

"Ye don't have to do that, ye know. You're pissed off. Stay angry!"

"But you make it so easy to smile! Ha! Still got it…" She beamed for a moment before offering a genuine response. "I don't have to do anything. But not enough people do..." Nessa rested her chin on her hand, pursing her lips for a minute.

"Yeah, yeah… It's appreciated all the same. So, eh, What did ye do before us?" Jimmy cocked his head to the side.

The question struck her like a bell's clapper, sending a dirge of dread through her entire being as the warm interior of Jimmy's home melted away like a hallucination.



"Where is it?"

Nessa blinked, eyes darting around frantically as she found herself in a place she knew all too well. Where her friend once stood was a large, imposing figure, hair tinted black and eyes lacking a soul.

"Don't leave me in suspense, Alnessa." The apathetic voice washed over her.

"I… I got it!" Nessa squeaked, digging a fist into her little bag of tricks on her hip.

She produced a large vial, holding it up to the looming figure. Its contents shimmered in the gloomy candlelight with cruel purpose.

"There's a good girl." The large one responded, grinning with yellowed teeth as he lifted the vial from her fingers. "Such potential… contained in such a small, fragile shell…" He waxed philosophical, eyes on the vial but words pointed at the Alchemist.

His words settled softly onto the flickering embers of Nessa's spirit like a damp blanket, eating away just that bit more of her self esteem.

"Consider yourself paid off for a while. Congratulations."

"Wait what? Paid off? You… you promised me gold!" The Gnome took a step forward, her grubby little hands balling up into fists.

"Gold you no longer owe me, you ungrateful whelp." He snapped back at her, teeth bared like the wolf whose pelt rested beneath his feet. "Gold you would have just ended up paying us regardless, need I remind you."



As his eyes met hers, she shrank right back. They pierced her like daggers, reminding her exactly of the size and strength difference between the two.

"I can't… can't pay you back if ... What am I supposed to eat?"

"You're a 'Mage', conjure something." He waved her off with a sarcastic chuckle, sitting back into his elegant chair, staring into the vial all the while.

She looked down at herself, shuffling her feet forwards and back as a thousand thoughts ran through her mind. A bubbling hatred boiled to the surface, serving as kindling to her soul. The embers of which flared up with a sudden spark, she grit her teeth and summoned her first bit of courage in a long time.

"N-no."

He raised an eyebrow, his attention drifting dangerously over the young Gnomes head.

"Excuse me?"

"I said no! I'm not taking this bullshit, give me the money I'm owed." Nessa took another step forward, keeping her gaze fixed on him.

With his movements slow and deliberate, he shifted his weight in the chair. Sitting upright and tilting his head to the side, arms coming down to rest on the armrests and legs uncrossing to let his boots rest on the wooden floor.

"You're in my house, Alnessa. A guest, for now. That is subject to change." He stared her dead in the eyes, finding her unflinching for once.

"And... I'll be happy to lift your burden of hospitality as soon as I get my money. I… I don't gotta take your shit, I got friends now. I-"

"You watch your fucking mouth, you miserable little fraud." He snapped, spitting the words with venom. "I want you to think real hard right now, you glorified doorstop, real fucking hard about how much your 'friends' will appreciate you dragging them to me to solve your mess for you."

As he spoke, he loomed above her even from his seated position like an omen of doom itself.

"So pick your next words very carefully. Do you have friends?"

The threat was clear as day to her. Faltering first, she broke his gaze as she retreated a step while her heart thudded away with fear like a drum.



"Those 'friends' didn't feed you, I did. Those 'friends' didn't hide you from the Federation, I did, and cheaply too. I saved you, you ungrateful bitch, and you belong to me until I say otherwise. You're alone, girl. You always will be… Unless you do as you're told." He leaned forwards to stand. Her hand jerked to the clip of her satchel and flicked it open. The panicked reaction drew a slow, unpressed laugh from her opponent.

"Oh you want to try something, do you?" He glared at her. "Well you better reach in quickly and hope you grab just the right 'spell'. That's all I'll give you. You'll get one throw before my knee drives your empty fucking skull into the ground and I crush you against the wood like the ant you are."

Nessa's hands shook as they hovered above the bag. He knew all of her tricks, every bit of magic she could fake, all except one. But was it ready? What if she grabbed the wrong vial? Anxiety gripped at her throat, chest rising and falling rapidly as the fear set in firmly. Her palms clammed up as she clenched her other fist, breathing harder and harder as seconds turned to minutes.

"Nessa?"



"Nessa!"

She snapped back to the present like a slingshot. She immediately brought her empty hand to her forearm to steady her shaking glass of wine. Her grip nearly snapped the stem in her hands as her fingers continued to clench against it. Forcing a long breath out of her nose, she slowly opened the vice that was her curled fingers, bringing her eyes up to meet Jimmys as he raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Tough question, was it?"

"Oh, I, uh… I sold magic." She forced a smile, setting the glass down as she released her wrist.

"How do ye sell magic?"

 

[TheWordsOfTyr]

Rain played gleefully through the streets as the night crept on. Puddles splashed amongst themselves as those outside sought shelter with raised coats and ducked heads. Within a rickety brigand-infested tavern, a proud Ionian made every drink like it was his finest. A third glass of wine and a fifth tankard of rum were placed like bags of gold before a grey skinned Elf and a golden haired Gnome. The aged, one armed Elf took the rum as he swayed with the melody that filled the room, raising the drink towards the accordion player passionately attempting to earn his coin. The gap-toothed Gnome swayed too, smiling brightly next to her friend, despite the hostile surroundings. Frank chuckled to himself at the scene, the two's love of the music inspiring a similar drunken sway from the more inebriated thugs about the tavern. The innkeeper's joy-filled grin held on his lips for a few moments before he reached above himself to knock his knuckles against a small cowbell that hung above the bar.

"Last call." Frank announced, his boisterous voice sweeping across the tavern like a tidal wave.

A resounding groan from wasted cutthroats pulled a cheerful laugh from the Innkeeper. He waved off their dissent dismissively.

"You've got your whole lives to drink. Go to bed and save some for tomorrow, eh? Let the ale age." He placed his hands on the counter with a challenging raised brow.

A few irritated murmurs protested still but the drunkards would indeed leave tonight. A blessing Frank would hold dear to his heart every time he received it. He turned his gaze to the two music lovers, giving the Gnome a knowing nod that she reciprocated.

"You and your friends' enthusiasm is infectious, Miss Turncatcher. Even saw ol' Ollie tappin' his foot to the music so I did! 'Bout time these miserable bastards enjoyed themselves. Take your time with your last round, spots reserved for ya." Frank patted the spot in front of them as he leaned back up to his full height, grinning down at them like a giant.



"Anytime." The Gnomette smiled sweetly before swivelling in her stool to face her companion. "... Was good to see you again, Cyrak."

"Of course it was." He took another mouthful of rum before flashing her a sly smirk.

Nessa snickered and lightly punched the elf in the ribs, muttering 'horses ass'. Picking up her wine and taking a healthy sip, she looked him in his golden eyes. Her expression showing how she meant it and his own saying what his words did not. The feeling was mutual.

"You never said why you came to Queensedge. You don't usually take risks like this." Nessa leaned back against the bar, resting her weight on one elbow.

"Ah, worry not. They learned their lesson about tryin' to hang me here." He leaned onto his elbow to whisper proudly.

"Yes, you told that one before. Twice. If you're gonna start another tale, go for one from this century." She rolled her eyes.

"But it's a good one! Fine, fine…"

The Elf set his drink down. Muttering a few curses below his breath as he started to pat himself down.

"Well, about what you were asking. Here for you, I was!" Cyrak announced, producing a letter from his large flowing red coat.

"Y-... For me?"

"Aye! Been a while but I'm still checkin' your old place in The Hammer." He handed the letter to her.

It was addressed to a shop that didn't exist anymore and to a name she hated. She didn't even need to open it to know who it was from. There were only two people she loved enough to keep in blissful ignorance of her mistakes.

"Damn it…" She muttered, the wine on her tongue turning sour as she turned the envelope over in her lap.

She swivelled back around to face the bar and down her remaining wine like it was a shot, her expression shifting drastically as every one of her senses showed her why you don't chug wine. Once she recovered from her little stunt, Nessa went to break the seal on the letter with her thumb but hesitated. Cyrak leaned sideways on the bar, putting all his weight back on his elbow and resting his hand on top of Nessas.

"Sleep on it. It's far too late to read anyway. It's bad for your eyes or so I hear." Cyrak said softly, attempting to meet her gaze with kind eyes.

She shook her head slowly, giving a weak but genuine smile.

"I… should write them again soon." Nessas eyes fell once more, unable to raise past the Elf's shirt.

"I didn't speak to my parents for… almost decades at a time. You're not as bad as I." He sat up, putting a kind hand on her shoulder.

"Decades are nothin' to you. At least they knew what you were." She hunched over further, staring back at the letter.

"And yet... they still spoke to me. Parents are like that. Good ones anyway. They love ya, no matter what."

"I know, I know… I just… don't wanna tell them I failed." She lifted a hand up to her forehead, running her fingers through her tangled mess of a bun.

"You haven't failed shit, Ness." He said sternly as he finished his rum.



She was silent for a few moments, eyes scanning over the elegant handwriting that must've taken her father at least a few tries to get right. Putting her elbows on the counter, she closed her eyes and rested her head on her palms as creeping thoughts clawed their way out from the back of her head. The truth of the city's cheeriest barmaid bubbled to the surface as her resting smile sank like an anchor. Nessa's lower lip quivered and the Gnome's bright aura cracked. A single drop of liquid pain rolled down her cheek and peeled free from her flesh to plummet onto the wood below.

"I fucking hate this city." She whimpered bitterly.

The Elf's shoulders sank as he watched his friend stew in all her frustration. He tried to think of the right thing to say, his mind drawing a blank. He was forced to just observe the weak yet pained breaths of someone holding back a flood with what little wine dampened strength they could muster.

"There's a spot on The Redeemer... if you want it." Cyrak watched her as his words passed through his lips.

At first it seemed like she didn't even register what he said, simply keeping her eyes forward while her fingers fidgeted with a loose thread on the back of one of her gloves.

"I want to stop having to move all the time, Cyrak. Sailing is the opposite of what I need." She finally spoke, voice weak with the burden of having nowhere to call home in years.

"A Ship is just a home you can take with you, Ness, and the crew its family. If you hate this place, don't make it your home. Don't force yourself to call that group of thugs you work for a family. At least let me take you to Hera. The Fanged Queen and I have close ties, they won't be able to find you there. I promise." He continued, ready to plead with his gaze if she lifted her head.

"I'll… think about it." She patted his leg to show the offer was appreciated.

He was right and she hated that. If she stayed here out of stubbornness, she would be spending the rest of her life in a bar that had a gun under every table, surrounded by monsters of men that could turn on her at the drop of a coin. Cyrak dipped his head forward a bit as he turned away from the bar and stood up slowly. He took a moment to steady himself before turning back to her.

"People will always appreciate a lighthouse in a storm, Ness." He gave her a soft smirk as he put his hand in his pocket. "It's storming out." He tipped his head to the Innkeeper and started walking off.

"I'll be around for a week. I'll take your reply back with me if you get it done by then! And come find me if you need someone to speak to about Flo… Sorry things didn't end well between the two of you. Get some rest, yeah?" He called over his shoulder as he stepped into the street.



Nessa looked back to the envelope, wiping her eyes in her dirty gloves. With a deep breath she broke the seal and opened it up. Peering inside, she saw a small lumpy burlap pouch and a letter. She recognised it instantly. Nessa pulled out the pouch and waved down Frank as he passed by, big hands full of dirty tankards.

"Hey, hey Frank! You know how to do coffee here?"

The Ionian looked down at the glassy eyed Gnome curiously but nodded all the same. Before he could say a word, the burlap pouch of coffee beans was pushed into his chest. Raising a brow, he simply smiled and complied; the rare chance to make Federi coffee superseding his declaration of 'last call'. Nessa sat back into her stool as a fiery blush warmed her cheeks. Turning her attention back to the letter, she unfolded the paper and started to read, immediately cringing at seeing 'Nessy' written in fancy calligraphy at its top. She scanned through each heartfelt word from the two old Gnomes in Anspool, a soft smile crawling up her face as her parents filled her in on inconsequential details that meant the world to her. A neighbours new cat, her cousins commissioning a fancy guild in Kester for a masterwork, her mother taking on a new apprentice in her workshop, her father's latest alchemical formula. It all made everything feel so normal. A warm but painful pit grew in her stomach as she kept reading. The questions. About her shop, about her 'new home', about how the Danician's treat alchemy, about how she's doing. All questions she knew she'd have to lie to answer, the very prospect of which made her choke up.

"Here you go." Frank set a steaming clay mug in front of the Gnome.

Nessa blinked at him before looking at the coffee.

"Oh… I'm impressed! Smells just right. You're a star." She beamed up at him as she took hold of the carved mug with both hands.

"Tried me very best for you, Ness. Don't let that keep you up too long now. We all need to rest." He bowed his head to her with a kind smile.

Nessa returned the nod and took a tentative sip from the coffee, closing her eyes as it tasted exactly as she remembered. The nostalgia hit her like a truck and caused the budding tears in her eyes to start to stream down her face as she was brought all the way back to her teens, far south and living in the cold shadow of the Ten Locked Gates.

"It's perfect, Frank." She cleared her throat and attempted to blink the tears away.

"Tastes like home, eh? 's what I always loved about that Free Isles Red you had there. Never had a house or tavern in me life that felt like me home… but no matter where I was, when I had a glass of the Isles in me hand I was exactly where I belonged." Frank got a distant look in his eye as he smiled to himself.

Looking back at Nessa, he patted her on her head as he turned to walk away, going back to his closing time clean up. His words resonated with her more than she even thought possible.

Nessa faced the letter again, taking another sip of home as she neared its end.

"We hope you enjoy the little gift. Be sure to not drink it too late though! You promised me no more all nighters! Your mother insists this is exactly the kind you loved before your journey to Danica. She knows you always worked your best when you had a cup in your hand! But of course, you're our daughter, all of your work is your best. Even your worst. Always remember that, Nessy. No matter what, we'll always be proud of you.

We love you, Alnessa."



"I'm trying, father..." She whispered softly.

Nessa lowered the coffee, letting the half empty mug warm her cold hands as tears dried on her cheeks. The rain outside the shoddy door pounded against the cobblestone streets, the few drunks remaining murmured incoherently to each other, the floorboards creaking under every giant Ionians step. So small and surrounded by such strange people, Nessa chewed on her bottom lip as she stared into the black void that was her parents' coffee.

"Maybe I do know what home feels like…" She muttered to herself as her mind drifted into the past.



A soft smile here, a laugh there.

A compliment traded, one given for free.

A drink brought with pride and drank with reverence.

A few Aethirians and their staff, sharing a few genuine smiles after a job well done.

A balcony where she could see forever, the smell of a perfume shop.

The taste of red wine and the bright smirk of the red head that warmed her broken heart.



"Yeah, maybe I do…" Alnessa smiled.

 

[Heathcliff692]

Rain played gleefully through the streets as the night crept on. Puddles splashed amongst themselves as those outside sought shelter with raised coats and ducked heads. Within a rickety brigand-infested tavern, a proud Ionian made every drink like it was his finest. A third glass of wine and a fifth tankard of rum were placed like bags of gold before a grey skinned Elf and a golden haired Gnome. The aged, one armed Elf took the rum as he swayed with the melody that filled the room, raising the drink towards the accordion player passionately attempting to earn his coin. The gap-toothed Gnome swayed too, smiling brightly next to her friend, despite the hostile surroundings. Frank chuckled to himself at the scene, the two's love of the music inspiring a similar drunken sway from the more inebriated thugs about the tavern. The innkeeper's joy-filled grin held on his lips for a few moments before he reached above himself to knock his knuckles against a small cowbell that hung above the bar.

Click to shrink...

Ah, a scene straight out of a fantasy tavern tale! Despite the rough surroundings, there's a sense of camaraderie and joy in the air, fueled by music and good spirits (both the drink and the mood!). It's like a moment of respite in the midst of chaos.

 

[TheWordsOfTyr]

Nessa found herself wandering the docks of Queensedge with a fake smile on her face. Without the usually so dramatically timed rains of Io to mimic her mood, she made her way along the lower of the tiered piers. Stopping on a small outcropping of wood, the little Alchemist looked to her side and rested her scarred hand on the splintered wood of a support beam. Deciding this place was as good as any, she plopped herself down and let her legs dangle off the edge above the water below. She sat there for a long time, just watching the water ebb and flow back and forth as the sounds of the city of sailors surrounded her. Hundreds upon hundreds of stories carrying on without her, a strange comfort found in the forgotten lives held in the faces of strangers she'd never forget.

"On a scale of doomed to the greatest that ever was… How's our odds?" She asked the city at large, kicking her legs softly.

She reached for a stray pebble on the dock behind her and clutched it tight. She tossed it forwards as hard as she could, grunting softly in exertion. With a resounding 'plunk' it disappeared beneath the gentle waves. All the way down to the bottom of the bay it sank, resting there, perhaps never to be touched again. Forgotten.

"Yeah, I figured." Nessa hunched over, resting her elbows on her knees. "Nessa of the Redeemer… Buried at sea, corpse fed on by the gulls. This is why I can't have anything nice."

A set of stumpy feet marched along the docks, the jangling of gold and excess adorning a large red coat that preceded a burning grin on the back of the Gnomes head.

"Is that a little Nessy I see?" A booming voice called out.

She snapped her head up, eyes widening somewhat in vague recognition. She spun around. A grey skinned Dwarf stood, the posture of a pious man mixed with the gallant extravagant dress of a fellow who wanted to show off his ill gotten gains.

"Sal?" She rubbed her eyes for good measure.



No illusion this time, a grin with twice the boldness of her own stared at her with his hands on his hips.

"None around with a smile so heavily laden with purpose for you, young lass." He folded his arms as he stepped closer, standing beside where she sat. "Looking far too down for the shining star of Anspool."

She let out a soft scoff as she looked down at herself, a tired smile resting on her lips.

"I'm just bein' pouty. Missed you, Sal." She straightened her back, resting her weight on her palms. "Been busy."

"As have I, Nessy. Seems we've both had a change of employer." Salazar pat her on the back with a big meaty hand.

"Ah, fuck… you show affection like a damn Ogre. I got small bones, y'know!" She let out a soft laugh as his cheer forced its way into her clouded mind. "Yeah… I really have. You're not with the..?" She trailed off, giving him a knowing glance.

"No, no... I've found a much better paying employer." He folded his arms, resting his shoulder against the support beam as he leaned against it. "Living among the Free Isles now?"
"Oh, nah… Just here for a spell. Signed on aboard Cyrak's old ship. Remember him? We'll be leaving soon so lucky you found me, huh?" She gave a small shrug, still feeling his grin on her but looking back out to the waves.
"Lucky indeed." He bared his shining teeth to the coast, a golden canine glinting in the light of Soeul. "You want to talk, lass? You look like you want to read me your little book of formulas again. Ye really have that much news?" He let his grin lower to a content smile, knowing the woman too well to attempt to meet her eyes.

"No… I talked enough today. Right now I just want to lay down in a field for a couple days… pick some herbs…"

"And one glass of cheap red." He finished, tapping the side of his nose in a knowing gesture. "Still take it for the shakes?"

She lowered her head softly, crossing her legs as she allowed herself to relax just a little bit.

"Yeah… I hide 'em better though."

"I'd have hoped it'd have worn off by now, it's been… bloody years, lass."

"Yeah, well, it hasn't." She snapped, a sudden flare of defensive anger that surprised the two of them.



She quickly shrank from his eyes, turning back to the view before her as her hands clumsily fiddled with each other. When she spoke again, it was barely a whisper.

"I'm… sorry…" She muttered like a guilty child.

"It's alright, girl." Sal said softly, his voice calm as a choir of angels.

Another set of boots thumped up alongside Sal, a gruff looking human, face clad in a black bit of cloth that hid the lower half of his face. He silently looked between Sal and the Gnome, asking one very pointed question with his cold eyes. Sal bowed his head in response, looking back to the unaware Gnomette.

"What'd I always tell you? You need never apologise to me, Nessy. The Gods are watching over you, they are." Sal continued, watching the newcomer slowly draw a pistol from within his coat.

"Thanks, Sal… I guess I'm still just a little sensitive about…" Nessa began, her words trailing off as her eavesdropping ears perked up.

She could hear it plain as day, the slow metallic drag of a hammer being cocked as quietly as possible. Her fidgeting hands clammed up as her whole body was gripped by fear in an instant. A thousand different emotions all smacking her at once, a type of pain and terror that would have forced Nessa to hold still and take the bullet in a morbid paralysis had this been her mere weeks ago. In the half second that she had to process all of this, her left hand found purchase in her belt of vials. The fake-mage had no idea what the potion could be and didn't have time to consider it. She pushed on the bottom of it with her thumb to slide it out of the leather strap. Nessa gripped the crystal container tight and flung it behind herself as hard as she could. The vial smashed against the nearby wall of a building and a thick, black cloud of smoke erupted out, surrounding the three in an instant. Nessa scrambled to her feet, holding her breath as she heard a shot ring out next to her head. She gripped her ear as the piercing whine screamed at her. Disorientated and terrified, she picked a direction and ran as the two coughed and sputtered in the smoke behind her. As it started to clear, carried away on the seaside breeze, the gunman spat his words with a Federation grit.

"Little shit! Where'd she go!?"

"That'd be your job to find out, wouldn't it?" Sal coughed out a grinning reply. "I'll return to him, tell him the good news."

The gunman glared at the Dwarfs smug assurance before turning his head to hear the wood creak under tiny footsteps on the upper pier above him. With a curt nod to the Dwarf, he started off after Nessa, not returning the friendly wave of farewell Sal offered behind him.



Nessa's legs burned as she sprinted onwards, panicked eyes darting about as she searched for any face she recognised, anyone she could hide behind. Plucking a tried and tested potion from her repertoire, she chugged the horrid brown sludge. As the potion went to work, her skin turned a woody brown, lumping together and cracking like the aged bark of an old oak tree. Panting through her mouth, she looked down towards her vial belt, praying she had some other vials at the ready. She continued onwards along the empty, tiered docks of Queensedge east side, seeing only one left. She started to pull it out as another shot rang out. The bullet ripped into her tiny shoulder, the force of the impact sending her staggering to the ground. The Gnome impacted the wood hard and rolled from the force as the vial slid from her hands around the corner of a building into an alley. Her head struck that very same corner, bursting her brow and sending her vision into a blurry daze. Carried on by a mix of frantic willpower and alchemical alterations, she crawled hastily into the alley after her potion, hearing the hate-filled voice of her pursuer.

"Found you, you slippery little fuck!" He called as another shot struck the edge of the building, just behind her leg.

Among the ringing whine of the lingering gunshot, her pained ears still managed to pick up the approaching footfalls of her attacker like the thundering drums of the apocalypse themselves. The little Alchemist looked to the potion and, in an adrenaline filled haste for time she didn't have, she swung her fist down onto the crystal, smashing the vial and coating her fist in the wax-like contents in the process but not without getting shards of the vial stuck into her skin. She crawled a few inches further into the alley, the searing pain from her bleeding shoulder spiking with every moment as the bullet wedged itself further into her flesh. She practically dragged herself behind a crate for a moment of prolonged safety. Nessa brought her hands together, snapping her fingers next to her hand coated in the strange melted-wax substance. The flint pieces sewn into her gloves struck against one another, sparking a bit but not catching. She snapped again, once more nothing. The Gnome felt the thumping boots of the gunman approach in sync with every fifth beat of her pounding heart. As he rounded the edge of the crate, Nessa's final snap sparked, the flame catching along her palm. The substance ignited all at once, coating her hand in a burning flame that left her unscathed.

"Hold still, you miserable-!" He began as he levelled the pistol at her.

Acting now or never, Nessa lunged forward with all the energy she had left, grabbing at whatever she could on the man with her burning hand. Due to his own arrogance in having bent down to execute the cornered Gnome, Nessa managed to slam her hand against his face, gripping it as hard as she could to mush the flames and shattered crystal shards into it. He let out a cry of shock and pain as the bandana around his mouth was burned into his flesh, along with a grubby hand print from his victim.



Once the initial shock of pain passed, the gunman jerked his arm across himself, bashing the young woman across the face with the grip of his pistol and knocking her arm away from him. She was almost thrown to the side by the blow but still focused as every fibre of her being shifted from flight to fight. She threw her burning hand back towards him, this time grabbing at his gun arm when he went for another swing at her. Her lashing hand caught his wrist, the flames forcing his hand to seize up and drop the pistol to rip it away from her. Roaring in pain through gritted teeth, he swung his foot forwards to kick the woman back into the planks.

"Worthless little freak!" He spat as he squatted down to pull a knife from his boot. "I'm gonna fucking gut you."

Nessa felt another wave of panic shoot through her body as she found herself on her hands and knees again. She let out a hacking cough as a result of the blow to her gut and started crawling again. Just attempting to get away from the man who stomped closer. Her eyes locked onto it, his pistol. Pushing forward, beyond her limit from the short scrap, through pain, terror and anguish she dragged the very world under her hands with her legs carried limply behind. She reached out for the weapon, fingers so tantalisingly close.

"No you fucking don't!" The man barked, grabbing her by her ankle and reefing her closer to him.

As she was dragged suddenly along the splintered planks, Nessa rolled herself onto her back and swung her free leg up wildly at the human. Her foot struck his burned hand as it gripped at her other ankle, drawing another roar of pain from the assailant and forcing him to drop her. He swung his blade in response, slashing the Gnome along her wood-coated shin as her leg recoiled. The fake-mage pushed herself away with her elbows and feet to avoid another slash and Nessa sent one last hopeful attempt behind herself with her flaming hand. The gunman reeled his arm back to lunge forwards and plunge his blade into the woman's heart, but as he stepped closer the Gnome felt her hand come into contact with something metal. She gripped it tight and pulled it to her chest, one of her grubby fingers finding the quickly heating metal of the trigger and squeezing as hard as she could with her eyes tightly shut.



The shot rang out, a singular bang that froze Nessa solid as the kick from the gun blew itself out of her hands, clattering across the wood behind her. The Alchemist kept her eyes shut for a moment as her ears continued to ring, awaiting the searing pain of unforgiving steel plunging into her gut. Instead she felt the planks she lay on quake as a body hit the floor. She cracked an eye open, staring at the upturned boot of the laying man. Nessa's eye twitched, the reality of her actions settling into a pit in her stomach as her eyes burned the man's twitching, bloody face into her memory. The powerful pistol at this close range had half blown his face off. The mess of gore and bone, scattered brain matter and burnt flesh that was the face of someone she once knew, even in passing, etched itself onto her soul with a burning quill. A memory that would haunt her to the end of her days. It came first with a short exhale of breath, a quick push to empty her lungs entirely, then a deep breath in to ready her throat and finally a loud, piercing scream as Nessa cried out in horror. Frantically, she began to hyperventilate and kicked her feet against the wood, scrambling her wounded body back away from the corpse as it shook and twitched in the throes of death. Her back thumped into a crate behind her as she ran out of space to flee from her own sin. Hugging her knees close to her chest as the screaming pain of the hole in her shoulder blade sparked up with every strain of the muscle, Nessa continued to break down. She tucked her head downwards, wide eyes staring at her shaking hands as the flames that coated her fist died out. The fake-mage started to gently rock herself back and forth, muttering incoherent words in Gnomish as tears streamed down her cheeks. The bleeding, the pain, the self-preservation fueled frenzy, it all disintegrated in her mind as all she could focus on was the life she had just taken. Her stomach churned, a burning in her throat that she recognised signalling her to move. She threw her weight to one side, doubling over sideways to involuntarily spill her guts onto the ground. The sickening taste and sight of her own bile barely even registered as she weakly dragged the back of her hand across her chin and slumped back against the crate. With the potion now among her earlier meal on the docks, Nessa's skin slowly started returning to normal, if a bit paler. With it came the no longer numbed sensations of pain that rocked her body. Clenching her teeth tight, she rested her head back against the crate, attempting to look anywhere but at the corpse. Unsure of what to do next, she did the only thing her body could decide on. She sucked a haggard breath in, the air coming in waves in between the hics and sobs of her ongoing outburst and then let it out, equally as shaken.

"Port Militia! Show yourself!" An authoritative voice ordered.

The Militia! Had she heard it minutes ago, she would be overwhelmed with relief. But now? All they would see is a burned corpse as a culprit. Nessa knew there was no way she could explain things. Not now. Her body screamed at her, absolutely refusing to let them get this far and stop. The Alchemist gripped at the edges of the box, running on little more than willpower at this point. Clawing her way to her feet, Nessa steadied herself on the crate and attempted to orientate herself. Picking any direction but the way she came, she pushed off the box and settled into a staggered run further into the city. Hitting into walls as she came to turns, grabbing onto anything her height for support, she pushed herself beyond any limit her body could handle. Leaving a trail of blood and tears, the Gnome's mind shut down completely as she was carried onwards back towards the Redeemer, or as close as she could get before her body gave out.

 

[TheWordsOfTyr]

The Gnome was not well. A pit had settled deep into the Alchemists core and twisted itself into an ugly knot. The day had been a painful one, a mysterious note putting a blade to everything she held dear. A final favour from Salazar; a Dwarf who claimed to be playing both sides. Banebridge had found them again and was coming himself to reclaim his lost 'pet'. She was running out of time. Yet this was not what came to the mentally exhausted woman as she sat there staring up at the wooden planks of her cabin ceiling. Eighty six. She counted eighty six planks for the eleventh time as her own words played back in her head. She would have to flee again. Abandon all of them to save her own skin. All her harping on about family, love and being there for each other. One big stinking ball of bullshit that dripped with hypocrisy. Every promise she made this crew that she had the gall to call a family was knelt before a chopping block. Ready to be broken one by one. Every second that passed the chisel of guilt dug deeper into her heart and chipped away at Nessa's soul. It dug into the stone of her mind and chipped off the loving words carved so painstakingly by her new family one letter at a time.
"A fraud. Even now." She expelled an empty breath.

Her eyes dragged listlessly across the room towards the lone candle on her writing desk, a sea of blurred faces filling the darkness of the room. Some of them she could swear were real. The eyes of enemies and friends staring her down as she sat against the wall on the uncomfortable floor. She knew she needed sleep but she was far too wired to even make an attempt. Fear still held her in its thorny grip, screaming at her that if she closed her eyes they would never open again. That the monsters that lurked in her past would slay her in her sleep. She slowly reached to her satchel, dragging the clinking bag of tricks closer to dig through it. Without moving her eyes off of the flickering flames of the room's only light source, Nessa felt around for the right 'spell'. She pulled out vial after vial, lazily moving it into her peripheral vision and returning it to the disorganised pile once she identified it as the wrong one. Eventually she found it, her experimental concoction. An hour of pure and total numbness of the mind, heart and soul. A fine pairing for the current state her body was in.

The cork rolled across the floor as she dropped it, bringing the vial to her lips as its contents' sterile stench flooded the room.
"What's that? Can I try some?" A child's voice asked, placing their grubby little hand on Nessa's before she could raise the vial.
Slow on the draw, she paused before drinking. Nessa looked at the child that had appeared beside her. A young girl that wore her own face. She was hallucinating now. Wonderful. Nessa shook her head, trying to cast out the guilt. The child was gone when her vision refocused, faces still moving at the edge of her vision in the greyness of her room. The potion should have tasted sweet if Nessa's notes could be trusted, but all her lips could feel was bitterness. She stared at her creation with disgust and lowered the crystal from her face. The cork was plucked from the floor and replaced into the full vial. Even when escape was in her very hands, she refused to let herself rest. Her own weakness continued to make her sick as her eyes scanned over the scars on her hands. Those self inflicted and otherwise. A boiling hatred for everything that she was marring her face as every crack, burn, cut and deformity was counted and memorised meticulously. Hundreds. Hundreds of experiments, double checks, and mistakes that forever marked her. Clutching the vial tighter, she suddenly exploded into an emotional rampage as she raised her arm for a violent throw of the crystal container.
"You're just gonna have to clean that up, you know." Another shade spoke, leaning against the door frame she was about to aim at. Wearing the face of the tender heart of the crew and the woman who had stolen Nessas; Amara. It gave the Gnome a gentle smile that took every ounce of wind out of her sails. She dropped to her knees, the vial rolling out of her hand across the wooden floor.

She let out a haggard breath as the expression forced her to face every reason why she didn't deserve to receive it. She was jealous of so much, but most prominently of her smile. It was so real, so genuine. It brought so much more joy to the world than her own and she wanted that so badly. What was worse was how little she felt she deserved to even remember her smile. After all, what could a walking robe of lies, cheap tricks and fear do to deserve such a shining light to grace her miserable mind. Eight. She could see eight nails in the planks below her.
"Lift your head. Look at me." A raspy voice spoke next.
As tears welled up in her eyes, the exhausted Gnome lifted her head from the floor. She clutched at the ground and pushed against it with her weak little arms. She attempted to face the next spectre her soul had summoned in the haze. A feral beast of the wilds, the hallucination formed the masked face of Raksa. Another of the Redeemers crew. It stared down at her with an unreadable expression, an utterly bizarre combination of manic cheer and a cold stare. A person who was everything she tried to be and did it better than she ever could. Who, as far as she knew, mastered their craft. That of the beacon of optimism and one who could circumvent any situation through his wits alone.
"I… can't. Stop. Please." Nessa begged with herself, unable to understand what any of it meant.
"We did say we'd be here for you." Another one chuckled, the sultry smoothness of the new voice drawing her attention.
Another crewmate stood, leaning back with the smug stance of someone who thought they were immortal. Rosair placed her hands on her hips and looked directly into the Alchemist's eyes with her lone one; seeing her truly and fully. One who made Nessa's heart flutter every time she glanced her way.
"What… do you want? I can't... fight this. I can't… Too dark. It's too dark... " Nessa sniffled at the spectres, cheeks dripping liquid bitterness onto the floor below as she started to repeat the last two words.
"Yes, you can." A voice said firmly.
The statement came from another mirage. Leaning on her writing desk, running their finger along the feather of Nessa's quill was a figure that wore the face of the Captain Nessa owed the world to. Cyrak, a best friend. An avatar of every hope she had in life. The living personification of the freedom and adventure she craved.
"You're a beacon, Ness." Cyrak said, waving his hand slowly over the dying candle light. "Light the way."
"I… can't light up the whole world… Too big… it's too big." Nessa pleaded.
"Didn't say that, did we?" The voices responded at once, all of them swarming her from every side.
In a moment, the faces in the dark melted away, the haze focusing her gaze on the writing desk as her rolling vial clinked softly against its leg.
"Start small..." The Gnome muttered, blinking to clear her puffy, red eyes.

Nessa staggered to her feet and lurched towards the desk. She fought through every bit of exhaustion that seemed suddenly so eager to claw her back to the floor. The demon she had to face stared at her from the desk, formed fully in the shape of blank parchment. The root of all of the hypocrisy she spouted to her siblings of the sea. A lie she had been keeping up for so many painful years. The core of the pit that weighed her down like a tonne of steel. Nessa reached the desk, shutting out the world as she took her seat. No matter what else happened on the ship that night, Nessa was going to face this or die trying. It truly was a night to face monsters. This one of Nessa's own creation. It was time to finally end the lie that was Alnessa Turncatcher. The fake-Mage reached for the quill, wiping her eyes with her free hand to avoid staining the page with tears. Seven. There were seven vials in the rack on the desk.

"Dear Mother and Father,

It's been a while since you've heard from me. If Cyrak had been actually delivering these for me, it should've only been a month since my last letter, so that might be confusing but bear with me. You also might be wondering why he isn't delivering this one. That's because I found out he reads the ones I send through him and… I need this one to be private.

I am unwell.

In reality, it's been about six years since I've seen you and about five years since we last actually spoke. Everything since has been a lie. The Alchemical shop isn't going well. I was chased out of The Hammer years ago for scamming people with Alchemy I passed off as bottled magic.

I'm sorry, Father. I made a fucking disgrace of your art.
I'm sorry to both of you. I made a fucking disgrace of your daughter.

Ever since Danica I've been living from copper to copper. I was on my way home when a man in the Federation made me an offer. He would hide me from the debt I was in. But more importantly he gave me a way to avoid having to come home and face the reality that I failed you. You wouldn't have been mad. I know that. You still would have loved me. I know that. At the time I was just so scared of disappointing you. I was so weak and afraid and I let myself get taken advantage of. I sold myself into 'his service' or so he called it. I was a slave. That was my life for three years. Doing the bidding of a Monster. I'd still be there now if it weren't for Cyrak. Don't be angry with him for not telling you, I made him promise to keep silent.

I'm still pretending. I keep telling people I'm a Mage, keep faking spells with alchemy in a sad attempt to make myself feel less pathetic and small. I've been running since I got away. He's following me and I can't come home or he'll find you too. I won't lie to you and say I'm safe. Something bad is about to happen and I don't know if I'll come out of it… but I'm with better people. Now at least. I went from job to job for a line of bad people all around the Dotted Sea, getting each to hide me from the last while making myself valuable. I can't sleep. Not much at least. Every time I try I think about the things I've done and it makes me sick. I found a type of wine that works for my shaking. Needless to say, it's become its own problem. It's at least half a bottle a day or I start shuddering and, in the worst cases, throw up. I'm a mess. A fuck up, a mess and a fake and I spend every day clutching my head, just wanting everyone to stop talking as I feel every person I trust wanting to leave me like they all do.

It's not their fault. It's all in my head. But knowing that doesn't help though. None of their reassurances stick. None of their kind words can ever be carved in stone, only written in sand. Gone when the tide comes in.

I hate myself for it. I hate myself for a lot of things.

But something changed.
I signed onto a ship.
Cyrak's ship.
Your little ground-hugger is a sailor, Mother.

And I'm good at it too, or so I'm told. I'm with a crew of good people. Real good people. They want me to be good again. To be whole. And they're trying so hard to piece me back together. I'm seen here.
I'm heard here.
I'm big here.
I'm real.
I'm worth something.
I'm capable.
I'm an alchemist.
I'm crew.
I'm family.

I'm Nessa.

And they like Nessa. At least I hope they do.
Not just that, they love her.

And I love them. All of them.

I'm not scared around them. I don't have to smile all the time. I don't have to walk on eggshells for the first time in years and it's almost overwhelming. They gave me a home. One I'm not gonna let go anytime soon. And one that I don't think is gonna go anywhere anytime soon. I don't know when I should have sent you this letter. Maybe years ago. Maybe I shouldn't send it yet. Either way, I couldn't keep lying to you both. Not if I wanted to look myself in the mirror again. Not if I ever want to be able to feel like I deserve this family.
Not if I ever want to be able to answer the question of how I can be surrounded by people who are so wonderful when I am so… me.

I don't expect you to forgive me. You both raised me so much better than this. You put so much love and effort into me and I wasted it on jealousy and greed. I don't expect you to understand either. I was stupid, irrational and afraid.

There's a silver lining to those lost years. You did always remind me to look for those.
I've met so many different people from so many walks of life. I've seen so many places around the world, exotic and rare. I've experienced so much and learned so much in such a short space of time.

I've learned that there is such darkness in the world. Such capacity for evil and cruelty that even the darkest and grimmest of stories could be read to children with levity. Such pain in people's hearts that could bleed the sun of its light. That there are Monsters beneath some of the warmest smiles.

But I've also learned that no matter how dark the Monsters make it. No matter how much pain they cause. No matter the level of cruelty and evil that they can wield like a mace…

They never win.
They fail.
The world doesn't allow them to win.
No matter what, they always lose.
They will just keep failing.

That is because there is something so much more powerful than pain. Stronger than sadism. Something that beats back darkness at every turn with ease and renders cruelty a feeble shell of itself. Something that cannot be broken. Something that is a fundamental part of the world and the people in it that cannot be removed, killed, broken or destroyed.

Love.

Love and Hope win every time.

Mother. Father.
I'm not just not an Alchemist in The Hammer.

I've met a woman.
And I hope you want to meet her someday.

I love you.
Nessa."