Alek Aundra
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CH 71 - The Purple Needle (Part 3)
🕑 Added 2023-01-03 15:36:14 +0000 UTC// Author's Note #1:
Welcome Shawn Fleury!! Happy to have your support for Player 0.4.
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'When did my hair turn grey?'
Fin laughed at my question.
'It was when I was held captive as a teen. There was this shady organization that captured and nurtured young mages. I suppose the stress of it all turned my hair white prematurely.'
Over the two years that I knew Fin, he dropped little bits and pieces of what happened to him growing up. He didn't say much, and I didn't press for more; I wasn't keen to share my dark past.
'I'd rather sleep outside. I get claustrophobic in small rooms.'
'Ah. I can't eat potatoes. It was the only thing I was fed as a kid, you see. So much that I can barely look at one!'
Fin always laughed his past off. He made jokes about it. But the bits he mentioned, when put together like a puzzle, made one's skin crawl.
I knew that. And yet I carried on in this new life of mine like it was something that I had already prevented just by turning the time back seven years. I didn't even consider that his sister was probably already under the Spider's thumb. Nor that he was already too.
The question now was: how was I going to find and save Fin? The answer to this lay with Freida Stran. Eleven days into Round 7 and the morning after having buried Denise, I could finally see my favorite information broker. If there was one person that I trusted to provide accurate and incredibly detailed information with absolute secrecy, she was the one.
I just hope the shop is still in the same location as it was five years into the future.
The carriage rocked to a stop after bouncing for half an hour across the broken cobblestone road.
"We're here!" The driver called out. However, his voice sounded uncertain.
I pried open the velvet curtain and looked out at the empty city street of East Genice. The sun had barely risen, but it was late enough that people should have been up and about by now, even with the gnarly weather.
The storm that passed through the capital city was bad enough that I awoke at an ungodly hour from just the sound of thunder. Luckily the thunderstorm had ended, but the pouring rain did not subside even now.
However, while other parts of the city had people and carriages moving about, this area appeared abandoned. There wasn't a hint or light in sight that anyone was here beside us. Buildings stood dark, haphazardly, and rocked in the heavy rain and wind as if having been built up by a child or a madman. They shook, daring you to come closer so they could collapse and crush you like a bug.
"Young master Luca, are you sure you want to get out here?" Gerald, the guard assigned by Micah to accompany me on my early morning outing, asked. He gazed out the window along with me and had a deep frown.
He was the same guard that stood outside Micah's office and was the one that informed me of Kaiden being late to see Micah during my investigation in Round 4. He was Henry's age, had dark curly hair that he kept trimmed down to its tips, and a muscular neck. Truth be told, I had forgotten Gerald's name, but the Random Character checker had swung into motion shortly after Micah assigned him to me and provided some rather useless information about the young man.
What use was there in knowing that Gerald had a knack for telling sob stories that could make even a stone-hearted witch cry? According to the System, Gerald had a Skill level of 5 in the craft of sob stories.
Then again, even a spoon can cut a man's neck if used correctly. So if I ever need to make someone cry, I suppose I'll know I can count on Gerald to get the job done.
"It's fine. This is the correct place," I replied.
I smiled, catching sight of the familiar lop-sided rusted metal sign that read 'Things, Junk, and Stuff for Sale.' It swung and rattled in the wind, daring to fly off, but I knew that it would remain in place many years into the future.
I jumped out of the carriage and walked through the heavy downpour toward the shabby-looking shop. Gerald was quick to jump out after me with an umbrella, which served more as a flimsy decoration than actually providing some sort of haven from the rain. If he held the umbrella one way, the rain would stubbornly shift and pour down on me from the other side.
We entered the dark store, and I pulled out a handkerchief to wipe my damp face. If the outside looked shabby, it was nothing compared to the mess inside.
A thick layer of grime and dust covered the random artifacts and pieces of junk stacked atop one another on mismatched tables whose paint was peeling off. Moreover, the smell of thick incense filled the air. There must have been a hundred incense sticks lit up to produce such an overwhelming scent.
I began coughing after inhaling the incense and filth of the shop.
"A teenager? What do you need?"
A woman in her late sixties with brightly colored magenta hair in short pigtails called over from the counter. Her voice was muffled as her mouth was packed with food. This was Freida Stran. I knew her five years into the future, and she looked exactly like how I remembered: a prickly woman with leathery skin, a colorful sense of fashion, and no damns to give.
My coughing fit wasn't subsiding, so instead of talking, I walked over and simply plopped down a pouch of five phoenix eyes.
"Golden. Lamp." I managed to get out the two words between coughs.
She pried open the pouch with a fork she was eating her breakfast with and smiled back.
"Two golden lamps it is," she said.
I guess I'll be able to only ask two questions this time.
Giving her more money wouldn't change how many questions she was willing to help answer. Even if I gave her all the phoenix eyes in my possession, she would still answer between one or three questions. It all depended on her mood. However, Grandov had informed me that through trial and error, he learned that five phoenix eyes were good enough to avoid her rolling her eyes and waving you out.
"Umm. Young master?" Gerald folded up the umbrella and looked around the store, uncertain.
"Stay back here," I told him, my coughing fit finally having subsided. "I'll be back."
I waved to him and followed Freida behind a patched-up, old green curtain in the back of the shop.
If there were any anticipation that the back room was in any better shape than the front, one would have been deeply disappointed. Instead, the back room was as much of a mess as the rest of the store, with even more objects stacked up erratically atop one another, layered with dust.
She sat down at a small table with a bright orange tablecloth. It was the only table that was empty of any nick-nacks amid the mess. A yellow light stone was at its center, lighting up the area. I sat across from her on a wooden chair with peeling green paint.
"Young man… have you been here before?" She asked. Her eyes squinted at me. "Most people don't know to duck to avoid hitting that pole when they first enter this back room. But you ducked."
"You could say so," I replied honestly.
She had a curious expression at my answer. I knew why. She could tell I was telling the truth, even though she also knew that she had never seen me in here before.
As ludicrous as it was, I wasn't about to start lying to her, knowing what I knew about her. Freida's particular skill was being able to read bullshit. She could literally smell a lie being told. I didn't need the System's Random Checker telling me this to know it to be true. Grandov had warned me once about her, and I learned the hard way that there honestly was no lie that she couldn't detect. It was also how she came to be my favorite information broker.
"Hmm. Very well," she murmured. "What information are you looking for?"
She didn't bother prying any further.
"The Spiders faction," I began explaining. "They have been holding a young mage captive named Fin. He is the younger brother of Denise, who has been serving the Frey manor for the past year and has recently passed away. I need to know where exactly Fin was located ten days ago and the structure in place that was overseeing him."
She nodded without asking for further elaboration.
"And your second question?"
"The Misfortune Sisters. I—"
Before I could continue, Freida interrupted me.
"I'm going to stop you right there," she said. "I have few personal rules I follow, and one is that I don't get involved with the Misfortune Sisters in any way, shape, or form."
"Why?"
I didn't expect this.
"If that's your second question, that still falls into the criteria of my rule. So I'm not going to clarify any further. Do you have a second question, or is this it?" Freida crossed her arms and leaned back.
Freida Stran had no qualms with gathering information on the Spiders, the largest and most dangerous of syndicates on the continent. Yet she refused to even hear out what my request regarding the Misfortune Sisters was?
"No, no. I do have another question," I stammered.
I had a slew of questions I needed answers for, but above all else, the Misfortune Sisters were top of mind. They had interjected into my life twice with Kaiden and Duncan Genuiver, and I needed to understand what their schemes and motivations were. However, I had hit an unexpected wall.
"I'm looking for information regarding the Selvine and Mentisun families," I said. "Specifically their relationship with the Frey Merchant Guild and anything that could indicate a strain."
I had put in this request to Natalia Ashford twice now, but her bakery burned down each time before she could provide me with an answer. So rather than relying on her again, I might have Freida gather information instead.
"Very well," Freida replied. "Come back here in three days. I'll have the information ready for you then."
"Thank you."
I got up to leave. It was a shame that my favorite information broker couldn't get the information I needed regarding the Misfortune Sisters, but it gave me an unexpected insight that they might actually be more problematic than even the worst of the syndicates.
Just what is it about them that makes them so difficult?
"Well, off you go," Freida said, not bothering to walk me out. "Grab two things before you leave."
***
"What did you buy, young master?"
Gerald looked my way curiously. Unlike Henry, who would have slouched against one of the walls, Gerald was continuing to stand in perfect form.
"This and that." I grabbed two random dust-covered knick-knacks and placed them in Gerald's hands. "You can have them. They are gifts from me. No need to give them back."
"I-I don't understand," Gerald said. "This is a broken hairbrush, and this is a ring missing half its stones."
"They are what they are." I shrugged and walked toward the exit doors.
"Young master, these are pieces of junk."
"Oh no, not just any junk. They're cursed junk." I looked back at Gerald following behind me and gave him a wicked smile.
"What?! Am I going to be cursed if I keep them?" Gerald looked to be debating whether his job was worth it or to just toss the items down to the floor.
"I don't suggest tossing them," I said. "They'll only curse you if you get rid of them."
"Then will I not be cursed if I continue holding them?" Gerald asked.
I studied his face. He was unexpectedly fun to mess with.
It's a bit childish of me, but whatever. A good laugh is needed now and then.
"Young master!"
Gerald pleaded with me the whole way back to the Frey manor.
The sun was peeking out through the dark clouds, and the rain had paused by the time we returned. My stomach grumbled, and I realized that I had not yet eaten breakfast.
Has Leona returned?
After I had come back from my adventure into East Genice last evening, Leona was gone. And more concerningly, she didn't even reappear for dinner after the funeral for Jasper and Denise.
Where could she have gone? Especially given the storm?
// Author's Note #2:
Just what is up with the Misfortune Sisters?
ヾ(☉_☉)
Comments
Alek Aundra
`(^◡^)´
Undead Writer
Finally some information! My gosh! It’s like walking around blind for our poor MC. Can’t wait to see what she gets!
Undead Writer
FIRST!! Thanks for the chapter!
