Blackmailed

Lucius raised an eyebrow. 

“Save this country? We literally just got here. We don’t know anyone.”

“Exactly my point,” Marcthain shot back. “You’re strangers. Nobody knows you. Nobody connects you to Yashar or Tiberun. That makes you perfect.”

Lucius crossed his arms. 

“And who are you, really, to ask such a thing of us?”

Marcthain took a deep breath, as if it pained him to say it.

“My full name is Marcthainas Aquilornas. I’m the commander of an unofficial defense force protecting the southern provinces of Tiberun,“ he said with a weary smile. “Right now, our country is at war with the Kingdom of Valdrik in the far north. Most of our troops are tied up there. That leaves our southern border dangerously exposed.”

“So… the Kingdom of Valdrik is planning an attack from the south?” Lucius asked, confused.

“No,” Marcthain said firmly. “I already told you I saw you when I came down from the mountains. The truth is, I’d just returned from Yashar. I intercepted unconfirmed information there about a planned surprise attack by the Yashari. If they invade us, a lot of people will die.” His gaze flickered back to Melissa. “And even more will be sold into slavery.”

For a moment, silence reigned. 

Melissa narrowed her eyes, biting her lip, then she let out a heavy sigh.

“You want us to save an entire country from an army, huh?”

“I’m not expecting you to fight,” the commander said quickly, trying to reassure them. “I want you to gather evidence. Names. Plans. Anything I can bring the capital to convince our government to act and send reinforcements before it’s too late.”

Melissa crossed her arms.

“And what’s in it for us?”

A thin smile curved Marcthain’s lips. 

“Gold. Lodging. Protection. Official documents that will register you as citizens of Tiberun. Or…” His eyes narrowed. “…I could just report you. Two strangers, falling out of a magical portal. You’d be surprised how fast people end up in prison during wartime.”

Melissa scowled. “That sounds an awful lot like blackmail.”

“I prefer to call it necessity.”

Lucius shot Melissa a worried glance. “It looks like… we don’t really have much of a choice then.”

Marcthain smiled.

“Good! In that case: welcome to Tiberun, you two!” He stepped back, satisfied. “But before you can help me, I need to prepare you.” 

His voice grew sharper now, almost military, and Lucius raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean by that?”

Marcthain pulled a small vial from his vest. 

Inside, a liquid shimmered a deep ruby red.

“Magic, Lucius. Or what we call here… Essences.” 

He held the vial delicately between thumb and forefinger, turning it so the light glinted off the glass. 

Lucius’s eyes lit up.

“You mean… I could learn to use magic?” he asked, sounding breathless.

“To become a true mage would take years of study and patience. But anyone can master the basics. Even if it’s just simple tricks to disguise yourself, pick a lock, that sort of thing.”

Lucius leaned forward eagerly. 

“So… actual spellcasting? With incantations and everything?”

“Exactly that,” Marcthain nodded. “But it’s not child’s play. Mix the Essences the wrong way, and it can turn deadly fast. The incantations have to be memorized precisely. One wrong word and…”

Melissa rolled her eyes dramatically. 

“Ughh… learning formulas and mixing potions? No thanks. Count me out.”

Marcthain tucked the vial back into his vest, his face tightening with frustration, the corners of his mouth pulling downward.

“And how else do you plan to protect yourself? There’s a lot at stake here, and a bit more seriousness would do you good.”

Melissa gave a crooked grin. Her amber eyes flashed into a molten yellow, pupils narrowing like slits. 

She lifted her hands, and slowly, long claws slid out from her fingertips, while her fur bristled and her horns grew. 

“Weren’t you listening earlier? I’m perfectly capable of defending myself!”

Marcthain instinctively stepped back, though his expression stayed calm and steely. 

His hand even twitched toward the hilt of his sword, but Lucius stepped in quickly.

“Let it be, Melissa. I think you’ve made your point.”

A moment later, she shrank back into her usual form. Once the tension eased from his posture, she stuck her tongue out at him.

Lucius scratched his chin.

“I think learning a few tricks might not be a bad idea. I mean… I’ve got to manage on my own sometimes if you’re not around. And I’ve already had a little experience with this kind of thing.”

Melissa shrugged.

“If that’s what you want, knock yourself out. But don’t expect me to help you study.”

“Then come with me,” the commander concluded. “I’ll take you to a friend. He runs a small workshop for Essences. He can teach you the basics.”

Melissa flopped back onto the bed with a long sigh as Marcthain gestured for Lucius to follow.

As he opened the door, noise spilled up from the tavern below. Laughter, clinking mugs, and the mouthwatering smell of sizzling meat. 

Lucius cast a look over his shoulder at Melissa, who was sprawled theatrically across the bed.

“Don’t forget to bring some food when you’re done!” she called after them, just as they left the room.

᯽᯽᯽

Lucius followed Marcthain back onto the street toward the marketplace, where they turned into a narrow side alley that soon led them into a winding, cramped lane.

Finally, the tall commander stopped in front of a wooden door, above which hung a weathered wooden sign depicting two crossed potion bottles.

He pushed open the heavy door, and together they stepped inside.

Instantly, Lucius was enveloped by the spicy scent of dried herbs, resins, and mysterious Essences.

Shelves of dark wood lined the walls, crammed with countless glass vials, phials, and clay jars.

In some bottles, brilliant blue liquids bubbled, others held dense, purplish vapors swirling inside, each one labeled with name and price tag.

Bundles of dried herbs and other reagents hung above the counter. 

Behind it stood an elderly man with a long beard, wearing a dark, embroidered robe and a magnifying lens dangling from his neck.

He was speaking to a customer, a slender elven woman with an elegant posture and long, pointy ears. 

After a short conversation, the shopkeeper fetched the requested items and carefully wrapped them, accepting a few gold coins from the elf. 

She thanked him with a graceful bow and left the store.

“Mar!” the shopkeeper called out, as he spotted the familiar face. “About time you showed up again! You’ve been avoiding my shop for ages.”

Marcthain gave an apologetic smile. 

“Sorry, Aelmir. I’ve been down south for a while… tied up with business.”

The older man’s expression darkened. 

“So… was it as you suspected? How much time do we have left?”

Marcthain nodded slightly. 

“Not much. And that’s precisely why I’m here.”

He nudged Lucius forward, and Aelmir immediately slid the magnifier over his eyes, studying him thoroughly.

“This is Lucius. He’s going to help me with the matter. So I’ve got you a favor to ask: Teach him the basics of magic.”

The old man squinted.

“Lucius? I usually don’t do this for people I don’t know, but... if Mar trusts you then so do I.“ He turned back to Marcthain. “By when?”

“I need him ready in one week.”

Aelmir sucked in a sharp breath. 

“That’s… cutting it rather close. But fine. Best we waste no time.”

Almost hurriedly, Aelmir strode to the shop door and locked it securely. 

He gestured for the two of them to follow, leading them down a steep staircase into the depths of the cellar.