Now what?

With my clothes ordered and fitting nicely against my skin, I had one last stop before I would retire back under my bridge. Only a few days before my clothes order would be finished and I was to meet with Tront's people. The idea of delivering his.. package still concerned me greatly. Whatever he had planned wasn't something I wanted to be a part of. At the same time though, he had promised to get me in contact with Cecilia. I didn't know what to do, who to talk to. With one last stop, maybe I had one last chance to hear some rational thinking.

Making my way through the streets once more I quickly came upon a group of familiar guards. This time harassing a merchant and his son. Their ever robust leader in the older man's face as the son was backed up against the wall by his throat. I felt my hand tighten against my blade before catching the son's eyes. Scared. Wide and terrified, yet he shook his head watching me. A silent plea to not intervene. Even though every fiber in me wanted to at least kick their asses this time around, his eyes told me to hold. It's only after my grip loosened that I truly saw why. The fat fuck invading the older man's space held his hand to the man's face. In it formed a small bit of smoke.

The vapor melted off of his hand and dissipated quickly. However, that wasn't what held my attention. As the older man was **** to inhale the vapor he started to gasp and cough. Almost immediately the skin around his lips began to crack and bleed. His face ran with blood before he was finally allowed to fall to his knees. Coughing and spitting blood onto the stone floor. The commander stood over him as he hacked up his own blood. Covering his mouth as tears rolled down his cheeks. His son **** to watch on in horror. The commander wiped the coughing blood off his foot on the man's leg. Though I couldn't hear what was said, the younger man still glanced at me pleadingly.

With the old man sufficiently tortured the Commander left with one final remark. One I unfortunately couldn't hear, but he left him regardless. His guards backed off as well but not before striking the younger man. Knocking him to his knees as well as they left. Either as a last act of cruelty or simply so he couldn't retaliate.

With each man broken down the Commander and his goons left. Parading down the street as if they were invincible. I hadn't noticed but my knuckles had locked around my sword once more. They cracked and popped as I slowly let go. Decided to focus on the pair rather than murdering the assholes. A thought I hadn't realized had become alarmingly attractive. The idea of murdering someone was once something I'd never thought possible. Yet… damn if it didn't sound good now.

I waited until the Dick Squad had left and made my way over to the pair. The son had joined his father. Cradling him as he coughed and cried. Now finally able to see what happened to him. His skin had… it looked burnt. Charred. Cracked and ugly. His lips were burned almost to a black charcoal. His blood seeped through the cracks and his fingers. A disgusting wound that if **** any longer would likely kill even the best. Yet to use it on an old man? His grey hair matted in his own blood and spit as it hung in front of his face. Kneeling down next to them I dug through my bag. Unsure how much to give, but needing to do something before the old man succumbed to such a nasty spell.

“Find me a cup. Now. Now!” The man stared at me confused before finally catching on as the bottle exited my bag. It took him a moment to run into their shop. Reappearing a short while later with a wooden cup about the size of a coffee mug. I poured about half of the mugs worth before offering it to the man. “Drink, it'll probably hurt like a mother fucker, but better than this.”

For his part, his eyes were alert. Panicked and terrified and in terrible pain, but he understood well enough. I winced at the sight of him drinking. His lips and blood sticking to the cup, but he drank it down nonetheless. After a moment his back arched and he screamed in agony. His skin stitched itself together as the charred burns sunk into his flesh before disappearing. I couldn't imagine the pain he felt in that moment. Having his lips reform in some horrible way. Thankfully his secondary **** only lasted for a few seconds before he slumped down once more. Being **** to catch his breath. As he did he reached up and grazed his fingers along his lips. Breaking down in tears as he found the **** to be done.

“Than…k you…” His pained and raspy voice let out. His hair was still matted in blood but the moment passed. After a while his gaze turned to his son who helped him to his feet. The younger man, maybe a few years younger than myself, helped him back into their shop. A simple store front selling brass trinkets and jewelry. With the men escaping into their sanctuary I decided to move on. That was until a voice called out to me.

“Wait! Please, wait.” The younger man again. This time with a handful of jewelry. He clasped my hands and put them into my grasp. Thanking me profusely before rejoining his father inside. After a moment I opened my hand and looked at what he had given me. A handful of different items. Rings and necklaces and bracelets. Likely whatever he had managed to grab on the way back. I couldn't guess the cost of what was laid in my hand, but it couldn't be less than multiple hundreds.

I stored the items into an internal pocket in the bag before moving on. Keeping one of the items out. A bracelet with a braided wrap and turquoise stone in the center. Held by ornate leafing. I placed that into my pocket before finally moving on. Still thinking of the last person I needed to see before meeting Cecilia and dealing with Tront and his scheme. Yet… my mind felt significantly clearer.