Chapter 238 : Old wizards

Mesker Duskenfer the Third took a sip of his wonderfully sweet tea, the magic coursing through his black fingers warming the cup just enough to be at the perfect temperature. It was, simply put, the perfect cup of tea. As usual, really. He had become a master at brewing various tinctures, from herbal drinks to complex potions. He was no true alchemist, that much he could admit. He simply lacked the talents they showed when it came to more solid matter and transformation, but he was an expert in potions all the same. A true "potioneer", as some began to say. He merely saw it as a hobby or side activity to his usual wizardry, but he understood the appeal of making potion-brewing a sole activity as a career for those who, like him, lacked the other talents required of true alchemists.

Speaking of, safely nested in the top floor of his tower, his laboratory, he paused in his reading, putting the interesting journal of a wild orc shaman to the side as he stood up to look out the window, his magical alarms warning him that a presence was approaching, and from the familiar robed figure with a pointed mask he could see through his wards, piercing through the veil otherwise hiding their features, he could take a guess as to who was visiting him. Not many souls in Zalcien had the necessary abilities or tricks to find his home, let alone knew where to find it.

In a pillar of flames, he reappeared outside, directly in front of the visitor. A way to greet them from one practitioner of the magical arts to another, a way to block their path, and a way to show his superior skill in noticing them all in one. Silhouette was a breath of fresh air that did not care for all this posturing despite his clear magical might, but the common mage and sorcerer would always play politics. A bothersome shame, but a necessary part of life.

"Mercury. I did not expect to see you out of your laboratory, let alone at my front door. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

The master alchemist made a wheezing sound that was probably meant to be a chuckle, their cane pressing into the ground as they stared up at the demonologist through the foggy glass goggles of their bird mask.

"Mesker Duskenfer the Third! Always a pleasure to meet such a talented youngster, dear."

Mesker kept his eyebrow from rising, well used to these sorts of power plays. He was far from the oldest soul in Zalcien, but few could genuinely call him young compared to them. Mercury was... Well, the alchemist's exact age was a mystery, but knowing what sort of good he provided to the highest bidders, he could hazard a guess that yes, they were among those ancient few.

"And I to exchange greetings with such an esteemed alchemist. Though my curiosity remains, last I heard, you rarely left your work, let alone your territory. I did not expect you to come in such a desolate place on your own, without apprentices to ensure you wouldn't be disturbed."

In other words, questioning where his guard was. Because such a person would never be alone in neutral and potentially hostile territory. That was far too risky, and Mercury was not known for their recklessness. No, rats like them survived so long because they stayed hidden or surrounded themselves with bigger targets, guardians who ensured their safety. They were not a predator, no, they were a parasite. And parasites didn't risk their lives, let alone fight their own battles.

"Ah, I decided to take a little stroll, dear. My homunculi are wonderful little helpers, but unnecessary for going on a walk. And when I realized you were nearby, dear, my, I just had to pay a visit! You are such a remarkable sorcerer, after all. Exorcists, pyromancer, demonologist... Why, I feel we could have been kin in a great cabal under different circumstances, dear."

"I refused the invitation to Wicked Witchcraft long ago, when it was at its peak. I will refuse it again today."

"Ah, no, you misunderstand, dear! My, I cannot fault you for the choices you made, let alone under these circumstances. The cabal is falling apart, of that there is no doubt. No, I would never ask you to board a sinking ship. Instead, I am here to talk about a better future for us all. A brighter one. Or perhaps a dafker one, if you forgive the pun, dear. You see, I wish to ally myself with Silhouette, and I know you are a part of his close circle, dear."

"Close circle may be a stretch, but I indeed work with him often. He's a reliable and trustworthy ally, one I am willing to help more than the average client, and I know he feels the same about me. I'm curious as to how you plan to earn his trust, given your faction's history with him. And from what he shared with me, you didn't leave the best impression last time."

"Ah, he was disappointed by my potion, then. A shame, truly, the dear boy could have benefited from it. Are you aware of how exactly it failed him, dear? It was meant to help distract Abrakaboom from his wrath, and I know ultimately he did leave Silhouette alone."

"I am not privy to such knowledge. I am, ultimately, just a consultant. A trusted soul when it comes to all matters magical, be they curses, items, or people. In the matters of past combats, I have no interest or relevance. But I do know he distrusts you, Mercury. So, I repeat. How do you plan to convince him to give you a chance?"

The alchemist hummed as they looked at the desolate landscape around them, the ruins of the Sunken City surrounding the tower Mesker had built and made his home. They leaned forward on their cane as they tilted their body to the side to look past the pyromancer blocking their way.

"I suppose that is one hardy challenge I will have to overcome, dear. But that is for me to concern myself with. You see, dear, while I do wish to ally myself with Silhouette, and you make masterful points on the need for me to convince him, I also have some worries about him. He's a wonderful and captivating creature, you can't deny it, but he's also quite the mysterious one."

"Expecting me to sell an ally's secrets, Mercury? I am not that kind of man. Even if I were, you should know my line of work involves plenty of magical contracts, and Silhouette isn't known for his oversharing. We both enjoy our quiet and secrecy. And if you try to dig into the matter before clarifying your position, he will see it as hostility on your part. And if there is one thing I will freely share about Silhouette, it's that history has shown that being his enemy is a doomed prospect."

"Oh, no, nothing of the sort, dear. I merely wish to... Verify that he was the man he claimed to be, and nothing else. As a demonologist, I'm sure you understand my concern. We know that this Nightsnatcher creature was of eldritch descent, and those small vermin rarely appear alone. I do not beseech Silhouette's ally on this matter, but the exorcist. Is the creature a demon or a beast from elsewhere? A threat?"

Mesker narrowed his eyes as he began to pull at the tip of his short, white, wick-like beard. This was a valid concern that could be had, and it was his duty to protect this world from demons and their ilk. Oh, he was no fool, Mercury was simply fishing for information, but he failed to see how the alchemist could use this knowledge against his friend. The only thing that came to mind at the moment was the possibility of anti-demonic measures, and an alchemist of Mercury's level could easily make any such preparation just as effective on mundane life. Still, Mesker was no apprentice, he wouldn't fold so easily, even if he knew it was his duty to confirm or deny demonic origins. He'd give the old bird his answer, but not before doing some digging himself.

"I did not take you for the sort to worry about partnering with demons, Mercury."

"Ah, I do not, I see every soul as capable of partnership, but there are still implications when it comes to demons, and I couldn't help but notice the energies around his holdings. They bear the mark of chaos, do they not? If you're willing to ally yourself with him, dear, then I can trust this is a reliable demon, but I'd rather be prepared."

"I see. In any case, I can confirm Silhouette is no demon. Of demonic descent, perhaps, but not a demon himself. I can assure you as such, this I vow as an exorcist. And similarly, neither is he an eldritch beast. Will that be all, Mercury?"

"I believe so, dear. I have nothing more to ask of you. But, I do have parting words, from one mage to the other. Wicked Witchcraft is falling, of that there is no doubt. It is only a matter of time until total collapse. But as of now, the cabal stands. The council lives. And they are eager for achievements and victories to reassure the troops. Long ago, we signed accords. You would be left in peace, dear, so long as you didn't involve yourself in our business. And I am happy to say you upheld your end of the bargain so far, dear. Runar was not one of ours anymore, after all. I would prefer if this stayed true. I favor Silhouette over the council, and I will defend him before them at every turn, but should wizards and shadows come to blows, I trust you, dear, to stay on the sidelines. Silhouette can handle a few disgruntled sorcerers, unlike your tower, dear."

"I think you'll find my tower can resist plenty of hostile mages, Mercury. It was made to withstand a demon's assault, even before I applied its defensive wards myself. I dare say that your cabal's palace does not benefit from the same mentality. Otherwise, you'd have a proper demonist in your midst, sitting at the council as a leader of this branch of magic, rather than just a few odd summoners here and there, serving the other castes. No, you lot know what demons can do. What you cannot stop on your own, not without heavy losses."

"So you say, so you say, dear. Which does remind me of a little story I heard. Some say Silhouette supposedly fought and defeated a demon. Mere rumors, I'm sure, he had already allied with you by this point, I know, dear, so surely he merely aided in a true exorcist's efforts. Unless, perhaps, you trained him to fend off these otherworldly foes, dear? He did defeat the Nightsnatcher, from what he himself claims. That's no easy feat. Such an elusive eldritch beast not even the Union could track it."

"What Silhouette can and cannot do, what he can and cannot defeat, that is not for me to know. The man is his own entity, not my apprentice or familiar. He claimed to defeat the eldritch predator? Then you have his word for it. You heard rumors he fought a demon alone? Then you know what the rumors say. If you wish to investigate the truth, as a proper alchemist would, you'll get no further by asking me questions. Research the matter yourself. Just be aware that this is one volatile reagent, one that does not like to be an experiment, as your former colleague discovered."

"Ah, Runar. Poor dear. He had so much potential, showed such promise, his runes were truly masterworks. Ah, if only he had been willing to truly join the cabal, not just in word but in spirit too. His selfishness was his downfall. He refused to share his progress, to aid us. No, he was unfit for his position. How could he be the head of our runic branch when he considered himself apart from the tree? No, he was never one of us to begin with, merely pretending to. Ah, if only he'd been a better ally. We could have aided him. He would have the resources to do more than just uplift thugs with his fantastic works. His Runarian Knights were held back by the people inside the suits. But no, he chose his own path. He chose to be a lord in a kingdom of filth rather than a comrade in a brotherhood of magic."

The alchemist wiped an imaginary tear from below their goggles with their free hand.

"Ah, the poor dear indeed. But I know he yet lives. This is why Abrakaboom has left us. He went on a quest to find and rescue his friend. I'm sure it would make for quite the epic tale when the time comes for us to know it. Should he ever return, that is. Regardless of their survival, it is clear neither of the two missing men will return before Wicked Witchcraft falls. That said, I am curious as to how and where Silhouette banished him. Now, now, I understand you won't say a thing, dear. I am merely pondering aloud. I do not resent Silhouette for Runar's fate. He made his choice and poked the dragon, he deserved to be scorched by the flames. But I suppose this is the time for farewells. Until we meet again, Mesker Duskenfer the Third. May time be kind to you. And should you ever find yourself fearing its fangs, dear, know that you may fight back its assault with my wares. I'm always open to new clientele when it comes to men of your stature and repute."

A round vial fell from their robes, glass shattering loudly against the ground as plumes of smoke rose to cover the robed figure, the alchemist having vanished as soon as the gas dissipated. Mesker had to admit, even he wasn't sure exactly how their disparition act worked. He assumed that the anti-magic smoke bomb that covered their escape was a shroud to hide their true means of transport, but he couldn't entirely rule out the possibility of a space-warping potion disguised as a mere smokescreen. 

Still, alone, he scoffed at their offer. He knew about Wicked Witchcraft's immortality droughts, of course. Most people in the city did. They were outrageously expensive, even for what they were, and were blatantly made to create a dependency, forcing their users to employ regularly or face the side effects, time catching up on their pitiful attempts to evade it. Only fools who feared death would use them, and Mesker was no fool. 

Speaking of, he had a call to make. Though he elected to reinforce his wards before picking up his crystal ball dedicated to Silhouette. Yes, he was putting his safety above his friend's, but he had a feeling the living shadow would also appreciate the guarantee that no one would be listening in on their conversation.

By the time he would be done, no one would be able to get even half as close to Mesker's tower as Mercury did without being greeted by his new security.