Territorial Problems

The passage to the temple’s living quarters showed signs of habitation.

It wasn’t just the increased boot marks – the battered old passage showed an effort to spruce things up and make it safer to walk through. Potholes that Cerise opted to walk around had been filled in with fresh dirt; the flora here had been stripped clean, like in the room before; someone especially paranoid saw the cracks in the ceiling and brought in several beams to prop up the ceiling.

All of it spoke of an extreme carefulness that seemed out of proportion for the trip, as if someone had heard of the idea of an expedition for the first time, and opted to over-prepare.

It piqued the witch’s curiosity as she wound her way around the additions to the passage ways, and kept following the distant moans, which slowly echoed less and became more distinct with every bend and room she passed.

“...find…” One voice said.

“...you think…” Another responded.

“...employers… Turmen…” A third interjected.

“Hm,” Cerise wondered to herself, trying to recall that one word. Wasn’t that the name of another country?

Following the voices took her in the direction of a room she guessed was once an old cellar. Its entrance ended in a staircase that allowed her to overlook a rectangular hall that she imagined held large barrels of wine. Perhaps sacramental? Or perhaps the priest of an ancient time enjoyed taking a nip behind closed doors?

Cerise didn’t normally come here, but with the amount of light that was filling the room, she couldn’t help herself but flitter in, moth-like.

The cellar had become something of a living space, with bedding, a table, and plentiful lanterns, many of which looked blackened from being burnt out.

Seated around the table were a trio of men, who were fervently discussing matters while a pile of dried reagents lay neatly on cloth between them, along with an assortment of maps, weapons, jars of preserved food, and other supplies.

“We’ve gotten enough, we need to get out while the going is good,” one grumbled. He was a dark-haired, broad-faced man whose features looked more chiseled than anything, even with the effort to soften it with the ponytail he was refixing. “At the rate we’re going through lamp filaments we’re going to be stuck in the dark before long.”

“They’re not going to be satisfied with this pile,” The one opposite, a far more slender and pretty man who was sharpening an axe, answered. “We need as much as we can to practice with. We have time! At least another hallway!”

“Screw that, I’m getting tired of being down here. We did our best already. There’s other places we can pick apart. Besides,” The first man added, before jerking his head to the third man at the head of the table, “Every extra day we spend here, we keep having to pay this ‘bodyguard’.”

The last, a blond man sprawled over his chair lazily, harrumphed in indignation. “I helped you with any errant monster, just as I was paid to do. I even helped you with your errands out of the goodness of my heart! I earned my keep, Syuan.”

“‘Monster’, indeed! Ha!” The rock-faced man sneered before turning to his compatriot. “And you were so sure we’d see anything larger than a Breath-bloated badger, huh, Kanis?”

Those certainly weren’t Arnis names. Perhaps they had come in through the mountains? Were those the sort of names people from Turmen had. Either way, Cerise understood they were trouble. If nothing else, they were hoarding what she had come here for. If she let them leave, or worse, let them come back, she’d be forever fighting over reagents she needed for her clinic.

So from her vantage point, she casually raised her voice, with the hall doing the work of pushing it down to the unsuspecting group.

“Wanna trade?”

The men exploded into motion, grabbing their waning, guttering lamps to point them at Cerise, who barely had to squint at the lights shining at her face.

While Syuan and Kanis looked at their new guest, perplexed, the last – the blond – widened his eyes in surprise before squeezing them tight in rage.

“Cerise.”

“You know her?” Syuan turned to look behind him in surprise.

The witch in question took another glance at the irate man, wondering who she had upset in the past, and drew a blank. “I’m guessing we fought before?”

“Y-You don’t remember me!?” The bodyguard spluttered, and barely avoided shrieking as he pointed a finger at his foe, while grabbing a long sword from where it rested against the table. “You humiliated me in that arena! I was laughed out! I couldn’t even return without being mocked! I was a proud soldier of Arnis and you trampled on that!”

Cerise’s eyes flicked up as she recalled her last underground bout, with a blond man…

“Oh! Avery, hi,” Cerise exclaimed in surprise, before giving a sheepish wave. “Don’t take it personally, it’s just how fights go. A few other guys in the past lost hard to me and they stopped coming back, and the audience got really disappointed. I’m sure they’d love to see you again, I’ve been on a hiatus.”

“Screw that!” The former-soldier turned towards his clients, snarling. “Give me the word! I’ll hunt her down like a dog!”

The two men weren’t opposed to the idea, with the way the two stood up, hands in easy reach of further weapons. Cerise felt her free hand reflexively thumb its patching pocket on her old dress.

“Why are you even here?” Kanis coldly inquired.

“I harvest things here, like what you’re doing, apparently?” Cerise answered. “All said, I think it’s safe to say I found this place first, so I’m not too happy about you guys just ripping away all the stuff I need. I’m more than willing to figure out a barter to trade it back, or even buy it – I mean, like I don’t know what use Turmen folk have for this but–”

Syuan frowned, and growled. “How do you know we’re from–”

“Shut up,” Kanis hissed, before turning to look up at their interloper, who tilted her head in understanding.

“So you are,” Cerise murmured, before rousing herself back to reality and noticed warning signs. The three of them were staring at her too intently, faces tight, while their fingers slowly danced towards various sharp implements about them.

Was it that they didn’t want to share? Or was their presence a secret worth killing over in itself? What a pie she had stepped in.

Cerise sighed. It seemed the matter was out of her hands. “I see, so I’ve seen too much, huh?”

So the only thing she could manage was what was in her hand at that moment. For an instant, everyone was frozen, trying to guess who would draw first, and how quickly.

It was Kanis who moved first. Reaching under the table he unearthed a long wood encased steel pipe that confused Cerise for a moment, before she recalled gossip about those new weapons–

She ducked just as Kanis pulled the trigger, inscriptions at one end causing it to burn red hot just for an instant before an explosion erupted from within the weapon, propelling a steel ball that shattered the arch above Cerise’s head, sending powdered stone every which way as she rushed back out, throwing a vial behind her that exploded into smoke.

“Avery, time to earn your pay!” Syuan shouted behind him as he dove into the fog to chase after the witch.

“I’ll give you a discount after this,” Avery said, teeth bared, sword drawn, and a petty grudge being squeezed for all its worth.