The concept of "aspirants" hung in the air between them like a cypher waiting to be decoded.
Marcellus, a man more acquainted with the steel of a sword or ladle of a pot than the intricacies of such clandestine terms, felt a twinge of unease.
His life at sea and in combat had taught him many things, but this term was foreign, a whisper from a corner of the world he had not yet turned his gaze upon.
He was begging to learn ignorance was neither a sin nor a virtue, but it was a vulnerability, and that he recognized well.
Finn, his youthful features now shadowed by the weight of secrets, exhaled slowly.
The duo retraced their steps from the secluded alley, retracing the path that wound back through the awakening marketplace, now growing more lively as Mythralis shrugged off the last remnants of sleep.
They found themselves at a tavern that, despite the early hour, welcomed patrons with a promise of anonymity and the kind of solace that only a well-worn bar and a seasoned barkeep could provide.
The interior was dim, lit by the flickering of oil lamps that cast dancing shadows on the walls, populated by the faces of other early risers or those who had yet to retire from the night before.
Finn led Marcellus to a corner table, one that offered a clear view of the tavern door and the bar, a strategic choice.
The barkeep, a robust man with a look that suggested he had seen more brawls and secrets than most, approached with a knowing nod. "What'll it be, gents?"
"Two of your strongest," Finn replied, his voice quiet but carrying a tone that spoke of a need for more than just the alcohol.
As the barkeep departed, Finn leaned in, his eyes scanning the room before settling on Marcellus.
The arrival of the drinks was a silent fanfare, the mugs set down with a deft clunk that broke the momentary silence.
"Now," Finn initiated, pausing to appreciate the sting of the liquor, "Aspirants. In essence, they're individuals who've imbibed potions to acquire abilities beyond human limits."
Marcellus kept his questions at bay, even though they thronged at the edge of his tongue.
"The route to becoming an aspirant is traditionally twofold, but most involve binding oneself through contracts to either the church or noble houses. Though one might gain such status through military service, the odds are abysmally slim for the vast majority.
Blackeye, I've carried the ambition to become an aspirant myself, yet aspirants from the military ranks are shackled by their duties, as are those in service to nobility. The church offers a modicum of leniency, but the thought of feigning devoutness just to acquire power... it strikes me as blasphemy, a sure path to divine retribution."
He sighed, the conflict in his expression clear. "That leaves but one option for me — to embrace the life of an 'itinerant aspirant'."
As Marcellus listened, he couldn't help but be reminded of his young cousin, who tried to rationalize her disobedience after indulging in the forbidden fruit. There was a palpable sense of Finn's remorse intermingled with his justifications.
Marcellus found himself wondering, Does Finn believe I would attempt to dissuade him?
The air in the tavern was thick with the musk of spilt ale and the smouldering of pipe. As Finn unfolded the secrets of aspirants to Marcellus, it was like watching a map of the world expand, revealing new lands that existed beyond the horizon of Marcellus's knowledge.
The idea of aspirants—humans augmented by mystical concoctions to wield abilities beyond their natural ken—was like a sail catching wind, propelling Marcellus into uncharted waters. It was a concept that danced on the edge of fable and reality, intertwining with the very fabric of Mythralis and its shadowed corners where power could be brokered.
The idea that power could be bought is unique.
Finn's admission, however, bore the hallmarks of confession and ambition, a dual-edged sword that seemed to seek Marcellus's silent absolution.
His desire to avoid the stringent restrictions of the military or noble houses, and his reluctance to feign piety for the church, spoke of a yearning for freedom as much as for power.
To become an itinerant aspirant—a lone aspirant without allegiance—was a path fraught with peril and promise.
Finn's tone suggested that he anticipated Marcellus's disapproval or concern as if he were a younger relative confessing a harmless misdeed rather than unveiling a life-altering pursuit.
Marcellus, for his part, maintained a quietude, allowing Finn to lay bare his intentions without interjection. There was a sagacity in his silence, a recognition that words often carried less weight than the decisions they sought to influence.
Yet in the dim light of the tavern, amidst the clinking of mugs and the low hum of early drinkers, Marcellus understood that Finn's revelation was not merely informative but an invitation into a deeper bond of trust and possibly a tacit request for support.
Marcellus, furrowing his brow in thought, voiced the question that had been tugging at his attention. "How does this all tie back to the suspicious figure we met this morning?"
Finn's eyes momentarily flickered with the reflection of a deeper, untold narrative. "The man in question, he's an Aspirant as well. His allegiances, though, are shrouded in uncertainty. I can't ascertain whether he's part of a larger faction trying to recruit me or a lone actor.
However, he's expressed a willingness to barter knowledge for certain... services. This is not a recent acquaintance; our paths crossed a little over a year ago, around the same time I became entangled with the Vipers. He has the means and the insight to expedite my transition into becoming an aspirant."
Marcellus, pondering over the newly revealed facets of Finn's ambitions, leaned back, his thoughts churning like the tumultuous seas he had navigated in days past.
A moment later, he returned to the present, his gaze steady and inquisitive. "One thing still eludes me," he began, his voice betraying a hint of scepticism laced with curiosity, "how does one find one of these potions? It's not as if they're sold at the market beside fish and bread."