Noah tried not to look like too much of a tourist as he followed Corban and Alina through the streets of Banesbridge. There really wasn’t much room to maneuver on the tightly packed bridge. They squeezed along the edge of the path, barely scraping past walls made up by all too many shops that had been stuffed into a space much too small for them.
There wasn’t much space for the crowd to part before Corban. But, to Noah’s surprise, they did their best. Corban seemed to have at least a fair amount of respect from the residents of Banesbridge. It was hard to say if that respect was directed toward Corban himself or the armor he wore. Noah supposed it didn’t matter.
“Here we are,” Corban said, ducking into a thin alley.
His apprentice followed suit.
Noah squeezed in after them. It was no minor miracle that Corban and Alina were able to make it anywhere in Banesbridge dressed in their heavy armor. Every single one of the alleyways seemed a thousand times too tight for them.
Lee sniffed the air behind them. “I smell oranges.”
Noah didn’t smell anything but the unique stench that came when you jammed all too many bodies together mixed in with a few other things he didn’t want to think too closely about. There were a number of drawbacks that came to living in such tight quarters, and it didn’t look like Banesbridge had solved them.
“Where exactly is here?” Noah asked as Corban rapped his knuckles against a wooden door embedded into the side of the building they’d stopped beside.
“You were saying you wanted a mask, weren’t you?” Corban asked. “I can’t think of a better place than this. She’s one of the finest craftsmen in all of Banesbridge.”
“And she’ll keep you occupied for at least an hour or two,” Alina said with a snort. “She’s sticker than a slime.”
“Wait. Don’t we have to sell the fang thing?” Noah asked. “To get crystals?”
“I can do it,” Lee volunteered. “I don’t need much right now. You’re the one with no aura.”
“Thank you, Lee,” Noah said. He pinched his brow.
Corban knocked on the door again. Then he glanced over his shoulder at Noah. “Lee’s suggestion is good. We’ll take her to turn the fang in. And… trust me. You’re not going to be out of there anytime soon. Might as well save time and split your tasks.”
Noah looked to Lee. She shrugged in response.
“I don’t care. Just get me some of the oranges she’s keeping in her shop. I’m hungry.”
“Okay,” Noah said. He paused. Then his eyes narrowed. “No wasting the crystals on food until you bring me my half, Lee. I do not want to find myself in debt because you’ve spent everything on a bunch of snacks.”
“I won’t spend too much.”
That wasn’t a very promising line, but it was probably the best he was going to get from her.
“Make sure you don’t.” Noah walked over to the door and squinted at it. “But are you sure she’s home?”
“She’s home,” Corban said with a grumbling sigh. “Here. You knock. She’s been pissy at me for months. Old bag.”
How would me knocking change anything at all? It kind of feels like I’ve been pawned off onto some batshit crazy old lady.
A distant coil of gold slithered at the edges of Noah’s vision. He blinked it away. Then the corners of his lips twitched. If there was anyone suitable to get pawned off onto a nutjob, it was probably him.
Noah raised his hand and knocked.
Before he could even try to hit the door twice, it shot open. A wave of musty air drove into Noah along with faint orange torchlight from within the store. It illuminated what must have been dozens of rows of costumes, all of them meticulously placed upon wooden dummies.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
A woman’s boney hand grabbed Noah’s wrist. Surprise flickered through him. He could have dodged the hand if he’d wanted to. The enhanced reflexes the Fragment of Self gave him were more than enough for that — but this old woman was fast.
Far faster than pretty much any other normal mage he’d met.
Noah wasn’t granted a chance to say anything. Just around the time he’d registered the hand clutching his arm, he found himself yanked into the musty shop.
The door slammed shut behind him with a resounding bang.
Noah’s runes sputtered, but he pushed them back down. He wasn’t about to transform some poor old woman into a splatter on the wall because she had a bit of an attitude… though yanking him around was a great way to make that happen.
“Egads. You’re a mess.”
Noah turned toward the source of the voice — and the hand that was still clutching his wrist.
A short woman stood before him.
She didn’t meet Corban’s implications in the slightest.
The woman, though thin, couldn’t have been any older than Noah. She had long black hair that framed her narrow features in a flowing wave. Her eyes were like glistening purple amethysts, boring straight into Noah’s skull without any regard for the flesh that dared lay in its path.
She wore what may have been the oddest clothing that Noah had ever seen. It was something in between armor and a dress, interweaving between the two different elements seemingly at random.
The chestpiece was a patchwork of midnight blue gossamer silk and thick, heavy sheets of black metal that couldn’t have possibly clashed with each other more if they’d tried. That strange pattern continued down her arms and legs, only coming to a stop at her neck, where a stiff popped collar rose up like that of a cheesy vampire.
“Oh,” Noah said.
That was just about all he could muster.
“Oh,” the woman said. “Not much of a name, is it? Rather boring. But I couldn’t be surprised at that. Not when you’re wearing the cloth equivalent of a dog’s fart.”
Noah looked down at his tattered clothes. Then he looked back up at the woman. “That isn’t my name. I’m Noah.”
“Not all that different. Just one or two extra letters,” the woman said, pursing her lips and giving him another once over. “Corban brought you here.”
It wasn’t a question.
“He did,” Noah said. “I’m looking for—”
The woman’s finger snapped up. She didn’t quite touch him, but the intent of the emotion was clear.
“Hush,” she said — just in case it hadn’t been. “You do not come to me and demand. It is a rare beggar that knows what it is they need. Do you wish to fish? Or do you wish to eat?”
Noah stared at her. “Neither?”
“Good. That is a good start,” she said. “My name is Eliana. I will be your healer for today.”
“Healer?” Noah asked. “I think you might be misunderstanding something. I’m not here for healing. I need a mask.”
“Oh, yes,” Eliana said with a grimace. “You most certainly do.”
“That was just rude.”
“No,” Eliana replied, striding over to a mannequin dressed like a pirate and plucking the captain’s hat off its head. “It was honest.”
“This might be a surprise to you, but it’s more than possible to do both of those things at the same time.”
A small grin flickered across Eliana’s lips. She held the pirate hat up to Noah and paused, cocking her head to the side. Then she winced and hurriedly placed the hat back on the mannequin.
“Well said. But I will choose not to. Neither of us have much care for pleasantries.”
“What makes you so sure?” Noah asked, tilting his head to the side. “I think they’d be considerably more… well, pleasant. More than enough shit in the world as it is. Doesn’t need any help.”
“Because choice is one of the few things afforded to us,” Eliana replied. She flowed over to another one of the mannequins, this one clad in a beautiful ball gown. She studied it for a moment. “You may choose to pretend not to be an asshole. But I will choose to be one for no reason other than the fact that I find it enjoyable. Do you have any other questions?”
“Yes,” Noah said. “A lot of them, for that matter.”
“Feel free to stuff them up your back end,” Eliana informed him with a charming smile. She stepped past the gowned mannequin. She reached for a thick scarf wrapped around the neck of another one, then paused to look back over to Noah. “Scarf?”
“No,” Noah said.
“Figured,” Eliana said. “The broken ones never like scarves.”
“Look, my clothes are just a bit tattered,” Noah said wearily. “I understand your whole shtick. And by all means, you’re welcome to it. You made a fair point. But I’m literally just here for a mask. That’s it. Some new clothes would be good too, but I’m not interested in anything else. So could we cut to the point?”
Eliana stared at him.
Then she burst out laughing. “You need far more than clothes, No-Oh. But clothes would be a good place to start.”
“And what else is it you think I need?”
“I thought I told you where you could stuff your questions. They always make my work harder. But you’re interesting enough that I suppose I can temper myself for long enough to answer a few. To start with…” Eliana cocked her head to the side, putting a finger on the side of her cheek in thought. “Probably something to fix up that patchwork mess of a soul of yours before you split into a thousand splintered fragments.”
Patreon (50 chapters ahead!)

