Two Halves: chapter 2A Chapter by aaaa We meet Ole' Ernie. Leader of the crying saints. He exited the train station at a half run. Trying to skirt
around the various groups that clumped together as you got closer to the
district. The building began to grow older. In this part of town there wasn’t
TeraFlex, but good old fashion brick. He entered the dark alley that was the
unmarked entrance to the magic district. He breathed in deeply, and let the air wash over him. It was
a rush, this district; all of the different corners would carry their distinct
aroma. You could almost navigate the place my smell alone. He detected the hint
of rosewood and white oak that the conjurers favored for their binding magic.
He turned into conjurer’s alley. Paper lanterns eternally lit the shadowed alley. Instead of
chasing the shadows away they simply made the separation between light and
darkness more distinct. Or maybe that was the desired affect, because if anyone
knew what the darkness truly held it was the owners of these shops. He walked past the imp shop, its windows stuffed full of various cages. Small claws and wings stuck through the bars desperately grasping for a lock. He ignored it and turned into the teashop next door. The shelves were lined with an assortment jars and boxes filled with exotic teas from every corner of the joint territories. He selected a small white box labeled “Snow’s grace”. He indicated this to the man behind the counter who began to prepare a cup for him. The man eventually came with a small delicate china cup filled with the steaming liquid. He breathed in the strange nutty aroma and with a sigh began to drink. He drained half the cup quickly and motioned towards the worker. The tea man acknowledged with a nod, and came to rest in front of him. “Yes?” The man said. Obviously he was not used to interaction with his customers beyond a refill and tea selection. “I need to get some information. I need to see Ernie. Tell him The Alchemist sent you.” He adjusted himself on his stool as he said this. He eyed the worker apprehensively, not sure if his name still carried weight among The Saints. The worker tensed, and then reached below the counter and drew a small sign up. The sign read “Gone until further notice” Then he slowly took off his apron and left the room letting himself a back door into one of the various alleys. He chuckled to himself as the worker left. It seems as if they still knew who he was. He laughed to himself as he drank the rest of his tea waiting for the worker’s return. Finally the worker opened the door and motioned for him to follow. They walked through the dark alleys in silence. It was nearly pitch black now that they were way from the main alleys. Eventually they came to a door illuminated by a flickering bulb. He opened the door for him to enter. He led him into a dark room with only a single chair positioned in its center. Concrete crumbled around its legs. For the wood had simply broken through the concrete , and had been molded into a chair shape. Ernie still loves his old theatrics, he thought. He sat in the chair not at all surprised then the wood came to life and undulated. The wood began to grow and covered his hands. He looked around him to see that the worker had already left. He began to grow bored as he sat there. Ernie didn’t need these formalities with him; only lesser men would be intimidated by such parlor tricks. He looked next to him to the brief case. Then he heard a creak from behind him. “Nicolas, oh how it is a joy to see you.” Ernie laughed mirthlessly. He slowly circled the chair to face him. “Why are you still calling me that Ernie? You and I both know that that isn’t my name.” Said Nicolas. “Oh, but it is the name we call you. But no matter! Let us discuss why you wanted to see me.” Ernie responded and he motioned behind Nicolas. One oh his guard brought a chair for him to sit on. He leaned forward in anticipation. “I need three level-six shadow fiends, an arch-demon class binding circle, and a summoner’s flute. Those are the major items. A full list of the reagents I will require is in my pocket.” Retorted Nicolas with a smirk. He had cobbled the list on the train ride here. It was better to be safe than… well dead, so he had added everything he might possibly need. “What? Are you insulting me Nicolas! What could you possibly have that would be worth all that!” Snarled Ernie. “See this brief case next to me. It contains the location of an artifact you have been looking for. My type writers, you know the cross dimensional ones.” Ernie’s face erupted with satisfactory astonishment. “If you want my artifact you need get me that list. Oh and don’t even think about trying to open it. If you input the wrong code the incendiary hexes with activate and the files will be lost forever.” He had always used the typewriters to talk to Abigail, but why would he need them now. Even if this didn’t work he wouldn’t be able to use them. Suddenly the door behind them burst open interrupting their thoughts. “Sir! It’s a police raid. You need to leave. Now!” The guard was frantic, and obviously new. Ernie merely sighed and stood up. He walked towards the brick wall opposite the door. Then uttered something as he pressed his had against the dull red masonry. They began to slide back revealing a secret passage. “Nicolas, we will talk about this later. For now you are on you own.” He motioned to his guard who picked up the brief case and followed his leader. Then with a snap of his fingers the wooden bonds on Nicolas's hands released him. He immediately leaped up ran out the door as the bricks slowly slid back into place. He breathed in smelling the unmistakable odor rosewood. He
turned right towards the smell. Behind him he heard a shout. The police had
caught up with him. They would want him alive for questioning, and at this
distance the stun rounds would be inaccurate. He spoke a short phrase and
inflated his force shell around him to be on the cautious side. It would be able to curl the electro-polymer pellets away from him from this distance, but if they got close they might as well be shooting air. He skirted down an alley to see a pile of boxes, but above them the lanterns of the conjurer’s alley were visible. He tackled these boxes and broke into the alley. The few customers who walked the alley gasped at his sudden intrusion. He was at the end of the road, nothing but wall to his left. He began to dash along the alley as the police rounded the corner. They were far more fit than him and he needed a distraction if he was to escape. He looked in front of him and saw the imp shop. With a word of unknowable power he pointed at the glass. The glass began to vibrate then splintered. It shattered as the cages fell into the alley. Many broke and numerous legged and winged creatures burst from them; most flying strait upward. On their way towards the sky they became entangled in the lantern stings. The lines were torn from their tacks and carried upwards into the night, and taking their illumination with them. It was nearly total darkness now. He breathed in again and detected the alchemist’s quarter. Its acidic smell assaulted his nostrils. If he was going to escape the police’s hound-mods he was going to have to cover his scent. The damn genetic modifications sure made it a lot harder to run than it used to. He found a narrow alley between an apothecary and an alchemist’s lab. He escaped into the growing night letting the darkness swallow him. © 2010 aaaaAuthor's Note
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