The Shadows Beneath the Revel

In the bustling city of Maegwyn, the annual Luminary Revel was approaching. The streets were adorned with colourful lanterns and lively banners, creating an atmosphere of joy and anticipation. However, hidden in the shadows was Alidinia, a young assassin who was now the focal point for every official in the city – and none of those officials cared for Ali’s wellbeing. His days in the light were numbered, and instead he had retreated to the shadows.
Jaded and desperate, Alidinia had sought refuge in the only place he realistically could: in the elaborate apothecary called the Bottle Shop; dominion of a curious creature known only as Flush. Flush too had been a part of the disastrous job which had gotten Ali into such trouble, but for Flush it was only one of his aliases which had been destroyed – not a life. Flush could continue as a pharmacist, and if anything, business was booming.

The Bottle Shop was, on the face of it, a glorious if little known magical world of medicines and remedies which was utilised by a hugely varied clientele. It was situated at the cross-roads of the finer parts of the city and the slums, open to all but understood by none. It was a dark yet colourful haunt for the strange being called Flush where he could ply knowledge of obscure potions and remedies – as-well as the dark art of ‘draughts’, which to most people meant poisons. Alidinia had learned a lot about poisons from Flush, but all of that skill was now going to waste. Flush looked over at Ali from the far side of the ‘cauldron’, which was the even darker underbelly of the shop where the varied elixirs were cooked up.

“You could help me around the shop rather than moping, Alidinia. I sincerely doubt that any of my clientele will recognise you for the noble-killing fiend that you are.” Flush smirked, clearly enjoying the jibe.

“Are you enjoying this perchance?”

Flush tipped their head. “It was my failure too.”

“No. It was Lord Trast’s failure. You were unaffected.”

“Lord Trast was a profitable alias and promised even more profit once Bane was dead. That door is now well and truly closed.”

The door to the Bottle Shop opened and triggered the tinkling of a bell. A new customer. The timing was immaculate, and Ali smiled.

“Sounds like another door has opened for you, but not for me.”

Flush tipped their head again. “You are young, Alidinia. Your time is long.” With this, the creepy pharmacist rose up the stairs and left Ali to his wallowing. He scanned the dimly lit interior of the shop: shelves lined with bottles filled with mysterious liquids and dried herbs, all filling the air with a pungent aroma. Despite the frustration and the eerie surroundings, he felt a strange sense of comfort in this place. After all, it was where Flush had trained him in the art of draughts, and it was through that skill that he was still alive at all. He stood, dusted himself down, and went about some work, if nothing else because it would keep him busy. As a starter, that was enough.

---

As the Luminary Revel drew near, the city’s excitement grew. The festival, celebrating the first full moon of the Father, was a time of music, dance, and vibrant lights – celebrating the god who was lost to the world, but who still hung in the sky and watched over proceedings. Alidinia had never been one to really get overexcited about such events, principally because he was usually busy with the business of killing, but with his movements restricted, he took an interest.

Through the windows of the shop he watched the celebrations gathering pace, the streets lined with colourful streamers and flags. Those who came into the shop had an extra spring in their step, and there was a visible countdown to celebrations in the square outside where painfully crafted statues were knocked down, one a day, the direction of smash scatter being pored over by eager onlookers. After all, the Father was the god of fortune, and the smash scatter could – apparently – tell a lot about the fortunes of the coming year.

“That is a stupid tradition.”

Flush smiled from beside him. “Why?”

“How can the random scattering of broken pottery give any indication of the future?”

The strange pharmacist steepled fingers. “You may well be right there, but perhaps it is not the truth of that auger that is important.”

Ali turned to the pharmacist. “What do you mean?”

“Well, perhaps it is not the truth which is important. Perhaps it is what people believe in the scattering which is important. If people leave a scattering with a smile on their face, is that such a bad thing?”

“I mean…” Ali ran a hand through his hair. “It’s still stupid.”

“Perhaps. But it’s probably not the most stupid tradition that attaches to this event.”

Ali stepped away from the window and back into the colourful shadows of the pharmacy.

“What could possibly be more ridiculous than this?”

Flush turned, not a hint of a smile on his face. “The letting.”

“The letting. I’ve never heard of it.”

The pharmacist nodded and perhaps sighed, which was unusual for him. “That’s not surprising. It is a middle-upper-class thing. At the height of the festival, when the Father watches over the city from up high, there is a sacrifice. Human vessels are laid out upon stone alters and cut, which lets their blood. Salves are used to stop the cuts from healing, and the poor souls, quite literally, are drained to death. It is most brutal, even for someone who is used to the Free Cities treatment of slaves.”

Ali turned and spat on the floor. “That is disgusting. What possible reason could they have for doing that?”

“Whatever the reason, it is lost to the wisps of time. But there is something worse than all that too.”

Alidinia shook his head. “What?”

“The victims. They are always northern. It is your people who are being let, Ali.”

 

---

Determined to uncover the truth, Alidinia began to navigate the labyrinthine alleys of Maegwyn, guided by Flush’s surprising knowledge of dark alleys and corridors which penetrated right to the heart of the city. The bond between the young assassin and the enigmatic pharmacist deepened as they relied on each other’s strengths, united by a shared disgust of this practice. Alidinia discovered that Flush had once been deeply ingratiated with the elite, which is where this knowledge was coming from. In fact, it was his refusal to provide any more of the anti-clotting salve which had got him turfed out from that heady position.

Flush’s past experiences provided valuable insights into the inner workings of the elite and their dark secrets. He shared with Alidinia stories of power struggles, betrayals, and forbidden rituals. Despite his outward appearance, Flush possessed a keen intellect and a deep understanding of human nature, which proved invaluable in their quest.

It was one such sharing evening, and Flush had just finished regaling Ali with a story of how one noble had just cut off the fingers of his brother simply because the sibling had looked at the noble’s favourite serving girl funny. It seemed entirely disproportionate and Ali feared the story was about to take a turn for the worse.

“How do these people get into positions of power?”

Flush stared off across the pharmacy, tapping his chin. “I don’t believe it is the corrupt people who end up in power – or at least not always. I believe that the power itself has a corrupting influence.”

Ali chewed his lip. “So you think that you would have done the same thing in that situation?”

“I hope not, but I’ve never been in that situation. We can’t offer conjecture with any certainty.”

Ali shook his head and paced back and forth. “Are you suggesting that there’s no point in fighting this butchery?”

“On the contrary, young Alidinia. Just because a thing is likely doesn’t mean we should accept it. After all, I was able to refuse my part in this disgusting ritual. The fact that others are not able to pull themselves from the dark lure of power is simply a function of weakness. And weakness should always be punished.”

As the Luminary Revel approached, Ali and Flush devised a plan to infiltrate an elite gathering and stop the ritual. If Ali’s master, a man called Employer, got wind of this foray then he would be furious, but though Alidinia was very much on the watchlist, the excitement of the Revel was intoxicating and he was sure that he would be unseen. The noble class were too wrapped up in their letting to notice a young assassin walking in their midst.

Of course, his northern look was a particular disadvantage, but once again, Flush had an answer. The cream on his face was sticky and disgusting, but it certainly had an impressive effect. The red tint to his skin was all but gone.
With his disguise in place, and with Ali’s assassin training, he would blend into the crowd and gather information before descending on the letting event and punishing those foul nobles who found such pleasure in pain.

“Will it work?”

Flush shrugged. “It’s better than the last plan you came up with.”

“Yes, but that one was a massive failure.”

Flush put fingers to lips and stared into nothingness. “It was not a complete failure. What you wanted to achieve, you achieved. The problem lay in what Employer didn’t tell you.”

Ali nodded firmly. “Then let’s do this.”

---

On the night of the Luminary Revel, the city of Maegwyn was alight with enchanting colours and jubilant sounds. Alidinia, blending into the crowd with the help of Flush’s potions, prepared to confront the filthy elite who had always persecuted his people. Though the ritual of letting was carried out by a number of rich families, Ali had discovered that due to a shortage of north-folk in the city, a collective event was taking place at the grand Luminary Tower.

As the night drew closer to the peak full moon of the Father, Alidinia infiltrated the gathering of the city’s elite in the grounds of the Luminary Tower. He moved silently over roofs, as had become his talent in this city, his assassin’s instincts guiding him along the least exposed path. With the silent steps of a master craftsman, Ali approached the ritual site, determined to stop the dark ceremony at least once and to punish those who indulged in it.

The ritual site was hidden in an internal courtyard at the Luminary Tower, a place Kael had never ventured before. The Luminary Tower was established by one of the emperors who was obsessed with astronomy, and though the place was now not in immediate imperial hands, it was still an elitist establishment and therefore not somewhere Ali had ever previously ventured. The unfamiliarity was heavy on him and the air was thick with tension as the elite gathered, their faces covered with grotesque red masks. Ali observed their every move, noting the intricate symbols and chants they performed.

The worst of it though was the young girl at the heart of the courtyard, tied down tied and straining against the bonds. She was entirely naked, and if he had a guess, Ali guessed she was no more than fourteen summers. Looming over her were three masked revellers who had something of a clerical look to them, their robes bleached white and rich despite the plainness. Ali had never seen a cleric of this sort before, but there was much to the world that was unknown to him. This was just one more thing.

Just as the ritual was about to reach its climax – knives held over the victim, ready for the letting – Ali struck. Using his agility and precision, he disrupted the ceremony with a handful of expertly placed arrows, scattering the gathered elite. Outside in the streets, the city’s inhabitants, unaware of the foul ritual being carried out within, continued to celebrate, their laughter and cheers masking the chaos unfolding in the courtyard of the Luminary Tower.

With the chaos unfolding in the ranks of the elite, a handful of nobles bleeding out themselves on the floor thanks to Ali’s arrows, the assassin slipped from the roof and slipped into the shadows. One of the grotesque red masks had been dropped, so he slipped it on and then stepped into the chaos of the courtyard.

Guards were flitting round the edge, peering up at the roof for the assassin who was up there – but Ali was no longer up there. He approached the central altar where the priests were still looming over the poor girl, knives in hand. Most of the elite had fled the courtyard now, so really it was just him and the three priests. Two of the clerics were happy ordering the guards about, but the third gave him a look.

“I recommend getting safe.”

Ali simply shook his head. “If I were safe then I wouldn’t be able to do this.” With the skill he had honed over the years he flicked a hand at the priest to which the cleric flinched. But there had been nothing in his hand, and with the momentary distraction, he grabbed a knife and slashed the bonds of the poor girl. She did not hang around and jumped with her release, slipping through the flailing hands of the three clerics who were now all focussed on Ali.

“What have you done?” The priests did not look happy with his intervention, and a large part of him wanted to punish them with death. But poisons were not easy to administer here, and he’d left his bow at the edge of the courtyard, so he resigned himself and ran. One guard lunged for him, but they were unwieldy in their armour and he slipped right underneath.

With the ritual thwarted, Ali and Flush retreated into the shadows with the poor young girl, watching the aftermath. The young girl had a blanket around her, but they would need to get into some proper clothes soon.

“How did you end up in there?”

The poor girl sniffed. “I got a job in a household as a maid. They said I was the best maid they had ever had, but just before this event, they stuck me in a dungeon. I think that’s what they wanted me for all along.”

Flush. “I fear so. Where are you from? I suspect you will not be safe in Maegwyn for that very reason.”

“Crucible. I’m from a town called Crucible in the far north.”

Ali almost shed a tear at that. That was his town, and it was a place he hadn’t been in the best part of ten years.

“I will take you back there. It’ll be nice to see the old place again.”

The trio sat there in solemn silence while the revelry and chaos developed around them. And then, once the Father had slid back into the shadows, they made their move back to the sanctuary of the Bottle Shop. But even though Ali was back in his prison, something was now different. He had a purpose, and that gave him meaning. Returning to Crucible would be a welcome adventure.