Chapter 48 for a prince 8

(Reskeme)

It was late evening with four nights until the auction. Reskeme and Michael strode down the cobblestone path using the meagre torchlight to guide the way. Finally, after nearly ten minutes, Reskeme decided it was time.

" I have business tonight. Want to meet me back at your house later?" asked Reskeme. Michael straightened his charred apron and glanced at him curiously. Reskeme sighed. There were only so many times he could make that excuse. Making an abrupt turn, Reskeme headed directly for the guild.

Reskeme strode with purpose, making it back with nearly an hour left before the guild shut its doors for the evening.

" What are you doing back so late?" asked one guard standing in front of the entrance to the guild elementals fury.

" I wanted to work on a project for another hour." said Reskeme, forcing a jovial smile.

"Very good! But be gone by one bell. Thats the guild master's orders for tonight." said the guard, smiling as he waved Reskeme in.

Reskeme froze at those words. How could he possibly get in during that time? No doubt the guild master was up to something nefarious. Walking down the empty halls of the guild, Reskeme headed straight for the merchants' hall. He had an insane, if not stupid, idea. Much to Reskemes dismay, when he entered the merchants' hall, all the shops had their drapes closed and metal bars covering the entrance.

Reskeme grumbled as he walked down the shadowy hallway, his vision piercing the darkness. It was as if the light of a cloudy day filled the room, giving Reskeme near perfect view of the shadowy corridor. Now, where would a rope be? For Reskeme's plan to work, he would need enough rope to be thrown over a wall. For twenty minutes he peered through drapes until he caught site of coiled rope in the alchemists' stall no less. What in Laurentia did alchemists need rope for? Reskeme failed to realize that not all herbs grew on flat surfaces. Some herbs like the swallow bloom grew in the scat of the northern cliff swallows, demanding intense difficulty to retrieve, like climbing sheer cliffs.

Reskeme shook his head in frustration. He glared at the steel bars spaced only a foot apart. Reskeme wondered how he could break the bars? He slapped himself hard on the head. What an idiot. He was a freaking mage! Reskeme practiced creating runes often for use in runesmithing. But lately, his battle runes and illusion magic were pretty useless other than to irritate his friend Michael. Reskeme glanced around nervously. He was ever weary that he needed to lessen his mana presence. All it would take was one of the other mages in the building sensing his channeling and Reskeme could get caught during a theft. Reskeme actually felt far more confident in creating runes after working with Michael so many days in a row. The sheer amount of runes in that journeyman's rune book were mindboggling.

Reskeme created a thread of mana that he wound tightly around the base of the first steel bar. He lightly drew his mana, hoping no one would get too curious. At least there might be people inside the guild for another half hour, so he should be fine. Reskeme squinted as his tightly weaved rune filled with mana. The metal bar smoked for several long minutes, Reskeme adding more and more mana until he was concerned someone actually might come and see what was going on. Reskeme pulled on the bar and with a small tug, it presented him with a hole. Reskeme reached out with his will and shatter the rune he had created.

Wincing, Reskeme gritted his teeth from the heat as the bar he moved his hand too far down the bar. He lifted his foot and stepped inside the room; the bar swinging from the top of the metal screen. Striding across the room with purpose, he hefted the heavy rope at the front of the room. Reskeme scrunched his nose as the pungent odor of herbs and spices drifted across the room. He shook his head. That wasn't important right now. Reskeme strode towards the opening in the bars, setting the rope on the other side.

Reskeme glanced to the counter curiously, and then to the shelves upon shelves of bottles, vials and back to the plants growing behind a clear glass wall at the back. Well, if he was inside already, why not? Reskeme shook his head. He decided the rope was enough for now but eyed the desk curiously, sure the coin box would be in there somewhere. Reskeme shook his head, climbing back through the hole in the metal bars.

He hefted the rope and made sure the bar was back in place. In the shadowy hallway, Reskeme headed back towards the work rooms. He ventured down the empty halls using his guild amulet to enter the courtyard leading to his and Michael's workshop. Reskeme hurriedly walked over to the exit from the guild. He then followed the wall until he reached the building. Reskeme glanced to the right, making sure he couldn't see the door leading outside. By Reskeme's best estimation, the guards shouldn't be able to see him, where he would need to climb over the wall.

Reskeme looked from the long coil of rope to the ten-foot stone wall. He then walked over and searched for something to tie the rope to. Other than the doorknob on the corner workshop, nothing was even close to adequate. Reskeme looped the rope around the doorknob handle, unwinding the rope until he reached the base of the wall. Reskeme held out his arm and threw the rope. With a loud thunk, the rope hit the wall. Reskeme winced, crouching in the darkness, listening. Other than his racing heart, nothing happened and flushing cheeks, there was nothing, not even the sound of late evening traffic.

Reskeme tried again! He failed, the rope smacking the top of the wall. Scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment, Reskeme spooled up the rope again. At least no one was here to see him. Reskeme hesitated on his next throw, wasn't it nearly an hour? If Reskeme didn't leave, the guards would come and make sure he left. Grumbling, Reskeme held out his arm and threw the rope up, allowing the rope to unroll with the throw. Much to his chagrin, the rope rolled over the top just like that. Well, now, he felt like an idiot. All it took was some technique. Reskeme smiled. He would keep that in mind for next time.

Slam!

He swiveled his head as the guard who had let him in opened the outer door and peered inside, his eyes passing right over Reskeme. Oh right! Reskeme hastily walked towards the guard.

" Sorry, be right there!" said Reskeme, rushing through the dark courtyard away from the rope hanging over the wall.

" Oh, there you are. You best be leaving. If the guild master sees you, I will get in shit." said the guard, grinning despite his words.

" Thanks for letting me finish my work. The weapons we are working on need to be ready by the time of the auction." said Reskeme.

" Oh really? What weapons are you making?" said the guard, striding next to Reskeme as they headed for the exit.

" A runed sword and a shield." said Reskeme, smiling at the guard. The guard whistled appreciatively.

" Now that would be something." said the guard, opening the outer door to the street.

" I can show you if you are on shift tomorrow night. But only if you would like to see them before we sell it?" said Reskeme, sure that a guard who liked him might give him more leeway.

" Really, a rune sword?" said the guard excitedly

" Well, the shield is complete, but the sword still needs some work." said Reskeme.

" How about I let you work an extra hour tomorrow night and you show me and my friend out there this rune shield?" said the guard, the older mans face lit in a grin like a child getting a naming day gift.

"Thats a deal!" said Reskeme as he stepped outside. Reskeme wiped his sweaty right hand on his dirty trousers and held his forearm out in a Laurentian salute.

"Laurentian?" asked the guard, grinning as he braced his own arm to seal the deal.

Reskeme nodded and smiled. He always forgot that the greeting was distinctly a Laurentian custom.

" Well get going, and be careful its late." said the guard.

Nodding his head and smiling, Reskeme waved at the two guards as he strode down the street. Reskeme didn't glance at the rope dangling into the dark street just around the corner. He rounded the bend and kept walking. Reskeme then turned back around and went to lean against the wall just out of the guard's line of site. He waited for over a half of an hour, listening, trying to catch what the guards were saying. Reskeme could hear exited whispering, but couldn't make out anything distinct. Damit, oh well. Reskeme shook himself. There was no time to get too friendly with the guards.

Reskeme grabbed the rope and pulled. The rope tugged tight. Breathing deeply, Reskeme placed his feet on the wall and climbed. His tattered leather boots scuffed as he climbed the sheer stone wall. Reskeme winced, breathing deeply through his nose as the thick fibre of the rope bit into his palms. His weight pushing him down, Reskeme strained to pull himself to the top of the short wall. If this had been several months ago, Reskeme would have succeeded much easier. Sure, he had gained a lot of muscle, but now he also had a lot more weight to lift. Reskemes five foot seven frame now had substantially more muscle. He was not bulky like a lot of the heavy infantry but lean with the outline of corded muscle like the scouts. After his work in the army and then his work with Michael, Reskeme was definitely growing muscle. If this kept up, Reskeme would catch the girls' attention. He shook his head. Who was he kidding the only girl he liked like that had betrayed him?

Reskeme banged his knee on the stone wall and let out an unexpected yelp as he reached the top of the wall. Over Rekeme's panting, he heard a voice.

" Whats that?" asked the familiar voice of the guard.

" Probably just a stray dog again." said the other.

" I'm going to go look you, wait here." said the first familiar sounding guard.

Hands throbbing, Reskeme crouched and pulled the rope still dangling into the street up to him. Reskeme swallow and lay flat on the top of the wall. He stopped pulling on the rope just in time, keeping the handfuls of rope in hand as he lay perfectly still. The guard he had just met rounded the corner, his hand on his sword. The man looked up along the wall, his eyes passing right over Reskemes shadowy form. Please don't see me! That's right, look past. Reskeme's heart skipped a beat as the guard kicked a wooden trash bin on the edge of the cobblestone street and walked back around the corner.

Letting out his bated breath, he slowly lower the rope inside the courtyard where it was tied. Reskeme dropped the rope. Hearing a slight thunk. Reskeme leaned over and dangled into the courtyard hanging from the top of the wall. If his guess was right, he would only need to fall about four and a half feet. Feeling like it was a horrible idea, Reskeme let himself fall. He immediately regretted it, his knees striking in the wall as he crouched. Knees burning from the pain, Reskeme held a pained should. Reaching down, Reskeme felt his burning knees for blood. Luckily nothing felt wet, so his apron must have protected him from a cut if not bruising.

Reskeme stood, ignoring the stab of pain in his bruised right knee as he reached for his illusion amulet. From now on, it wouldn't matter if he was a member here. If they caught him, Reskeme would be in deep shit. The amulet slid from over his neck for the second time since Kellar had made it for him. Reskeme instantly picked up on the fact that his skin changed from a light brown to a deep red pitted with black spots like freckles. Reskemes pushed away a lock of white hair from his face needing to concentrate..

Several times now, Reskeme had practiced the same runes he had placed on the sword. Hopefully, this time, he would have more success. Now Reskeme was going to risk his life, or at the very least, his job on his runes. But before that, he realized he needed to hide the rope. Crouching with a wince, he rolled up the thick hemp rope and untied it from the door labeled 1. He then strode to room twenty, using his amulet to open the door to his own workshop. After placing the rope under a box of steel bars in the storage room of his workshop, Reskeme decided he should get to work.

Reskeme channeled a thin layer of mana once, twice, three times, and finally the fourth layer. His veins burned, but Reskeme stayed connected to each layer of mana and willed them all to blend in with his surroundings. In the darkness, Reskemes limbs faded slightly as though there was a fog around him. Hopefully, that would help him stay hidden. If not, Reskeme would have time to regret his poor decisions in the stockades with a torn up back.

He crept to the door leading deeper into the guild and walked down the hall. If Reskeme was lucky and acted fast, he could place his illusion amulet on and try to lie his way out of the situation. Reskeme crept slower as he approached the ominous room guarded by two guards. It wouldn't do if they heard the scuff of his leather boots on the hardwood floors. Before even reaching the corner, Reskeme paused. Well, now, that wasn't good. Something distinctly malicious washed through the hallway. The sensation was light like a midsummer breeze but ominous like the calm before a raging storm.

Or at least that is how Reskeme was going to describe the sensation to the spy tomorrow. Reskeme peered cautiously around the corner, taking his time in case the guards were looking. From his experience in the army, someone easily noticed any sudden movement, even in the darkness. Standing next to the door, the guards were partly out of sight. Inset several feet into the leftmost wall, the door frame mostly hid both guards from Reskemes position. Reskeme frowned at the two men. Vern was on the far side next to another guard Reskeme couldn't name. Both guards stood ramrod straight, as though they were expecting someone.

Reskemes blood ran cold as a muffled blood-curdling scream tore from the small gap of the door behind the guards. The guards glanced at each other, their faces cold and dispassionate. Reskeme's heart raced at the sound. Reskeme swayed on his feet, bile rising in his throat. The screams were a part of his nausea, but he had heard those dozens of times in the war. However, he felt sick from the new wave of sensation that washed over him.

Something pulled at Reskeme. He wavered, almost falling into the hall, only catching himself with one shaky hand. Leaning back against the wall, Reskeme breathed deeply using Kellar's calming of the mind technique. He could sense something beyond the wall. Reskeme wanted to return. He wanted to go to that place. Hands shaking, Reskeme collapsed as the man's screams rose in pitch, cracking as his throat tore from the strain. Reskeme sat on the wooden floor, his legs shaking.

Several minutes of silence passed. As the scream died, so too did the heavy sensation of dread leave, only remaining as dark memories. Listening intently for something to happen, Reskeme shakily rose to his feet, using the corner of the wall for support.

It rewarded Reskeme when the door cracked open and guild master Lucas strode from the room, his dark robe speckled in blood. Lucas reached into his robe on his right side, grasping a silver key with a triangle shaped handle and stuck it in the door. The key turned, and a clank of the door locking filled the deathly silent hall.

" Vern, find us another vagrant to sacrifice. However, do find one a little stronger this time. That one you just brought did not even last until the ritual was finished." said Lucas, anger in his tone.

" Sorry sir, we had to rough him up a bit before he would come." said Vern.

" Its fine, we needed more blood to re paint the next ritual anyway." said Lucas, the man's anger fading as he rubbed his chin musingly

"What about people who work here, sir? They would be much easier to lure in and more healthy." said Vern.

After considering for far too long, Lucas replied. " No! For now we will appease the dread lord with vagrants. As long as we have sacrifices then it is content to bargain." said Lucas surprisingly candid with Vern.

Reskeme gaped, as he took in all the words of both Lucas and Vern. What was a dread lord? And what was Lucas bargaining for? Anger rose in Reskemes chest, a wave of hate washed over him. This bastard was doing the same thing that had happened to him. Reskeme breathed deeply through his nose, watching as Lucas turned and walked towards him. Scrambling back behind the wall, his heart pounding, Reskeme frantically looked for somewhere to hide. Wait, no, he shouldn't run.

Blood pumped like the bellows of the forge making Reskemes temples throb as he stood perfectly still leaning against the wall. Every instinct told him to run, but Reskemes legs were still shaking from the unexpected feeling that had just washed over him. In a rush of air, Lucas walked around the corner, nearly bumping into Reskeme as he hurriedly walked past. The man was staring down at his feet, mumbling to himself. Be quiet Heart, don't beat so loud! Was sure the man should be able to hear his racing heart. Reskeme was sure Lucas would look up at any moment. There was no doubt in Reskemes mind that if Lucas just glanced up, he would see him illusion or not, but the man just kept rushing away. Lucas rounded the corner, taking the right door instead of the left.

Reskeme let out a shuddering breath and staggered slowly down the hall once. Lucas had been gone for nearly a minute, and Reskeme didn't want to be there when he came back. He took the left door to the courtyard and strode to the wall. Reskeme paused, wait how was he going to get out of here? And how was he going to steal that key? Reskeme pondered the problem. He grumbled. This was going to have a long night.

And what happened when the guards realised someone robbed one of the merchant stands? They were not idiots. The guards would check each and every one of the rooms, looking for the intruder. Entering room twenty, Reskeme paced before eying an empty corner of the workshop next to the forge. He walked to the forge and, feeling the residual heat of the forge, leaned in the gap between forge and wall, making sure not to lean on the forge itself but the wall of the room. Reskeme stare down at himself, wondering if his illusion would fool the guards? If he stood perfectly still, then perhaps? He stood still, eying his blurry hands that blended partly with the floor. Four layers of runes were nothing to sneeze at, and Reskeme was proud that soon he might be able to do five.

As he sat down on the hard stone, Reskeme shook his head at his lack of forethought. At least he wouldn't be cold. The forge should keep him warm until morning. Reskeme sighed, leaning back, shutting his eyes.

A high-pitched trill filled the air and Reskeme snapped his eyes open. Wait what? Had he fallen asleep? Heart thudding in his chest, he looked around the shadowy room, wondering for one long moment what that whistle was for. His eyes widen, they were looking for the intruder.

Reskeme's heart raced as he heard a door nearby swing open with a bang of wood on wood. Reskeme swallowed, his aching knees forgotten for the moment. Swallowing his fear, Reskeme channeled mana slowly, creating layers of dull white mana around him, willing each layer to match the stone wall and floor he was sitting on. Heart thudding in his chest, Reskeme kept going after the fourth rune. In his desperation, he pushed through the discomfort of channeling more mana than his body was ready for and surrounded himself with a fifth rune, a fifth layer of white mana.

The usual dome of mana had one difference, with the addition of a fifth rune. Now there were two control runes stacked on top of each other, hovering above Reskeme's head as the other three circled lazily around him, their white luster making him gape momentarily. He would need to contemplate the reason as to why the book on runes suggested he place the fifth rune there later. Reskeme almost gagged as the surrounding mana became thick and chocking Reskemes will filling the air with his power. The door slammed inwards and Reskeme held his breath.

Without preamble, two soldiers' swords drawn rushed in, their torches lighting the room in an orange hue. They walked around the workshop and into the back.

Crack!

Shit!

" Who the hell filled that box with metal!" said one guard in a pained voice.

" You are such a donkey! The people who work here are rune smiths," replies the other guard, letting out a laugh.

" Oh, go shove it! The thief is already long gone." said the first guard limping towards the exit.

" Shut up! We still have more rooms to check. Captain Vern will have our asses if he catches us slacking of." said the other.

Hardly daring to breathe, Reskeme watched as the limping guard glanced towards him, his eyes passing over the forge with disinterest. Reskeme let himself sigh as both guards rushed from the room. He smiled, relieved the levity helping him somewhat. It was doubtful he could sleep after all the noise moved on, but Reskeme yawned anyway. All the excitement and the work of the day had made him tired, at least now he could take a nap. Eventually, the whistling died down and Reskeme could close his eyes for some sleep.

Feeling a jostling on his shoulder, Reskeme blinked, peering through blurry eyes at Michael's concerned face. Reskeme groaned, licking his dry lips as he used his arms to straiten his numb legs. Michael crossed his arms, looking down at Reskeme with an inscrutable expression.

" Well? Explain." order Michael, his face a mask of concern and anxiety.

" Explain what?" Croaked Reskeme. Michael rolled his eyes and walked to the far corner, pulling off a lid covering a water pale. Using a metal ladle, Michael scooped some water and held it to Reskeme's dry lips. Choking on the water, Reskeme swallowed eagerly.

" Are you going to tell me why in the nine hells the guards questioned me for ten minutes before I was allowed in? They said someone snuck in last night and robbed one of the merchants' stalls." Said Michael, disapproval clear in his tone.

" It was just a rope, don't get so riled up." said Reskeme dismissively. All the while, he looked up into Michael's eyes, hoping his friend would stay quiet.

" Just a rope? That doesn't matter, you broke in!" said Michael, exasperation in his voice.

" I needed to get in for something. Dont worry Michael, I did not steel anything else." said Reskeme, trying to calm down his friend.

" Okay! Fine! we will ignore that for now. But can you explain what in the hells is with your appearance?" said Michael, some of the anger leaving his tone.

" I didn't steal anything of value." Said Reskeme, not sure what Michael meant when he commented on Reskeme's appearance.

" You didn't steal anything of value? Do you realize how much you made Rory and Alex worry? Rory was asleep on the stairs this morning and Alex in the kitchen. They were worried sick." Said Michael.

Reskeme rose to a seated position, his back and legs screaming in protest at every movement. He groaned, hoping his apparent discomfort would make Michael somewhat sympathetic. Reskeme's thoughts screeched to a halt so fast his head hurt. Wait, his illusion amulet was still in his pocket? Reskeme smiled up at Michael and the boy flinched back, if only slightly.

Reskeme held up one offending arm, eying the limb with its deep red with black patches spanning his hands and arms.

" Oh, you mean this. I was practicing with my illusions last night and must have forgotten to break the spell." Said, Reskeme, one hand reaching for his amulet.

" Right, stop lying and tell me what's going on? Reskeme, this is serious. You could be flogged and lose your job for stealing, not to mention the fact that your appearance is.. is?" Michael paused, leaving that last part hanging waving at Reskeme as though that explained it.

Reskeme hurriedly placed the slightly ashen amulet given to him by Kellar over his neck. Michael's confused look only grew.

" You 're not human, are you? If not, then what? " said Michael, leaning in as he studied the runes on Kellar's amulet.

Reskeme thought frantically. What could he say? He was clearly using an amulet to hide and Michael had caught him red-handed, literally.

" I don't know if you will like what I have to share." Said Reskeme, not sure what else to say.

" I knew something was odd about your magic. But now I do not know what to make of you. Your hair is Snow White, not to mention your eyes. I swear Reskeme I have never seen eyes that flicker as though flames dance inside.," said Michael, staring at Reskemes now human like visage as though trying to peer through the illusion.

" Wait, you are not scared of my appearance?" Asked Reskeme cautiously.

" What no, it's so cool! I have never met another of the sentient races before. I mean, my father met an elemental one time, and he told me about it, but I never expected to meet another race." Said Michael, his anger fading from his face.

Reskeme paused. He could use the same lie he used with Kellar?

" But I have never heard of an elemental with horns." Said Michael, placing his hand on the side of Reskeme's head like a kid with a new toy.

" Hey stop that! Said Reskeme.

" They are so cool, are they pointy?" Asked Michael, leaning over Reskeme, practically bouncing on his toes.

Reskeme couldn't help a smile at Michael's excitement. Michael took a step back after a moment, schooling his excitement.

" I talked to the guards before I entered and they said you left late last night? You are lucky I didn't tell them you were missing. As a good friend, I told them you were not feeling well and would be in tomorrow. The least you can do is tell me what's going on. " Said Michael, shuffling uncomfortably.

" I'm sorry, Michael. Can I think about it? We can talk about it later after we finish the sword?" Asked Reskeme.

" Alright, but you don't leave the workshop until you explain this. We will need to wait until the guild is busy to leave out the front. If we go through the merchants' section, the guards won't know you didn't enter already. It wouldn't do for the guards at the entrance to the outer doors to see you leave." Said Michael.

" Then let's get to it, I'm exited to finish the sword." Said Reskeme, stretching his aching back.

He pulled short tongs from a hook on the wall and leaned over the red packed sand.

"Is it ready?" asked Reskeme, looking up at a hesitant Michael. The young mans usual confidence was absent as he slowly nodded his head.

With the auction only three days away, Reskeme assisted Michael in the setting of the gems and other adornments on the shield. Once the sword cooled enough, Reskeme dug the weapon from the packed sand using thongs and carried it over to the grinding wheel. For nearly the entire day, they ground the blade, creating a fuller and honing both sides to a razor's edge. Reskeme smiled, proud of what he had helped create. Before they could set the gems on the cross guard, the sword was placed into the forge once again for the final heating.

" So Michael, what will you do with the crowns from the auction?" Asked Reskeme. For some reason, he had never asked his friend.

"That's a secret. But once we make a name for ourself, then we will have clients nocking at our doors." Said Michael in a wistful tone.

" Oh, come on, just tell me!" said Reskeme curiously.

" What about you? Any plans with your earnings?" Asked Michael, completely ignoring Reskeme's question.

Reskeme paused in thought. He stare into the forge as the orange flames of the coals licked the silver blade of the sword. For obvious reasons, he needed to lie to Michael. Reskeme opened his mouth to do just that, but paused just before he spoke his first word.

But couldn't he just reveal that he was an elemental? Reskeme, for the first time in a long time, felt wrong for deceiving Michael. Unlike Trisha, Michael hadn't betrayed him. So far, the man had been perfectly trustworthy and even loyal, providing food and shelter for both Reskeme and his two charges.

Hadn't Michael even lied to the guards on Reskeme's behalf? But what would Michael say when Reskeme told him of his real purpose here? Michael was proud to be working for the guild. In fact, Michael could already know about the demonic rituals. Reskeme shook his head. No! Michael definitely wouldn't be so happy to wear that copper badge if he knew the truth.

Michael must have noticed his turmoil as the young man stare at him intently. Reskeme sighed. He couldn't tell Michael he was a demon could he? If Reskeme wanted to ask for the man's help, then he would need Michael to believe his story? But how, by the grace of the god Darentar, could Reskeme convince Michael to help him steal a key from Guild Master Lucas?