Absorbed in his grief Cem did not sense the shop owner's attention on him. The shop owner after locking the door remained seated on the corner stool behind the register, his expression calming.
The owner of the small shop known as magicarta emporium had operated out of the third ward for over fifty years. In that time Sebastian the shops owner had been the persona running the shop. Sebastian publicly operated as his trade name Sebastian the serious. Specializing in slight of hand magic and other illusions, his talents were put to many uses. As a performer he was well aware of his clients needs. However Sebastian, who often went by Sebas was also the leader of a guild of thieves specializing in very unique jobs that no one else would take. As such the the politics of Latham and the surrounding districts were not unfamiliar to Sebas. His eyes and ears on poitical undercurrents were some of the sharpest in the city. So when the young lad ventured into his shop it took but a moment for Sebas to make some deductions and reach a decision.
Sebastian the serious had concluded that the boy before him was no mere street beggar and was likely to be Royalty. Though the boy appeared to be tattered the dirt was fresh, his clothes a high end fabric. The clothes carried a scorched quality as if they had recently stood too close to a fire pit. His skin below the dirt looked too pale for a working class person of the district they now stood in. The hair although bloodied was red, an uncommon trait for those below a certain class. The boy was also around sixteen years of age. Coupled with the knowledge he had about last night's events. Including the dynamic shift concerning the ruling family's backing, it became very clear that this was the former city lords second son. A son who no longer has a powerful backing, or a place to call home, one who might be extremely talented and driven. Sebas as the head of his various organizations was always in need of new talent.
Progeny of the high lords were all said to be blessed sons of the heavens gifted with extrodinary talents at birth. This was never more true than for the child before him. It was said this child was a genius who had completed a traditional education at age twelve and was likely to rise above even his father's station if given time. Time was a commodity the child no longer had. As for his station, it was in the firm grips of the compeating families. The black sigil hanging on the cental monument spoke for itself. The black hawk had risen its ugly head and the child's previous options no longer exist.
Sebas stood and calmly walked over to the huddled heap of sobbing rags and cleared his throat, "you have come a long way from home and probably have no idea what happened to you. I know who you are, but I am a little curious about how you came to be in my shop of all places."
Startled by the calm but almost hypnotic voice Cem stopped crying, exhaustion washing over him again, he looked up with a sense of relief in his eyes that someone had recognized him.
My name is Sebas, but for now my questions will have to wait because it appears you are on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion. Upon hearing his words Cem's eyes felt heavier and he could not help but slide them closed for a brief moment. Hearing Sebas's voice once more he opened his eyes. This way and I will show you to a bed, we can talk more when you wake.
When Sebas turned toward the door Cem found himself unable to stand and follow. He felt an odd sensation of tendrils weaving themselves about his body and lifting him into the air. Floating along he hovered behind sebas who walked up several flights of stairs. Sebas did not speak and kept walking. Amazed by the events taking place, Cem became more alert. At the top of each flight of stairs he scanned his evnviorment, kitchens were visible and other living arrangements in the row house style.
Without looking back Sebas took notice of Cem's apprehension. "Each floor has its own living arrangements. The fourth floor will be yours for the time being. While you are here be considerate of my other guests, they are not nearly as friendly as I am. Get some rest, we can talk tomorrow, I will have food brought up for you when you wake."
Feeling the tendrils of air or spirit release him Cem fell on to a pile of blankets on top of a slate board bed. His eyes grew heavy once more and finally he truly slept. Dreams of fire plagued him. He saw his mother's face and a dark figure above her. Gradually his dreams faded becoming a white light, until he was not concious of his dreams any longer. Deep sleep prevented such vivid dreams. He woke some time later unable to determine how long it had been other than by the hunger plaguing his stomach.
The smell of food reached him. On a nearby table a tray sat with an assortment of meats, cheeses and fruits. Ravenous he went over and began eating without regard to his aching feet from wandering shoeless the day before.
He ate nearly without tasting, but what he tasted was delicious. Next to the tray stood a pueter mug filled with cold cider. Cem downed it hurriedly, nearly choking. Putting the mug down and laying back after eating his fill he tried for the first time to truly recall what had happened to him.
Down stairs in the subterranean portion of building Sebas had been busy. Busier than he had been in many years. He was rifling through old hidden compartments in search of various items and manuscripts. He could not remember where he had placed his true inheritance. About to give up he leaned on his staff near the fire place and felt it sink into the stone. As he looked down it came back to him. Pressing slightly harder he heard a click and the fire place and mantle slid down into the floor opening a doorway behind it. Naturally, smoke still rose from the submerged fireplace and the room became filled with smoke. Damn hidden doorways always have a pitfall to their mechanisms. Could never remember to extinguish the fire first. Carrying a candle he walked over the threshold into the hidden room. Upon hitting the threshold the smoke was gone and a chill air stuck Sebas. An alter stood near the center of the room surrounded by a grove of frozen trees. The passage was actually a folded space allowing one to keep many different things in unexpected places by allowing the owner of the space to manipulate it. Sebas did not own this space but had discovered it many years ago with his mentor. He had found a means to move it and store it here with great difficulty, however it had been nearly fifty years since then. The chill of the room emenated from the alter. If any normal person had entered they would have already frozen solid. Sebas however approached headless of the cold and opened the chest. Procuring a scroll from within he left the rest and immediately turned to leave. Time to ask that boy some questions thought Sebas.