Cort watched the man named Emile closely, grip tightening on his sword. The soldiers had attacked him with minimal provocation, so that made them enemies of Cort. Emile killed the leader of the troops, which made Emile an enemy of the troops. Even with Emile saying he was to join the dive with Cort, the young man had to wonder if the shackled man was a friend or foe.
"Have you met with the Han guy yet?" Emile asked. He walked forward, stepping over the captain's body. His chains clinked as he walked, and Cort could get a better look at him. Emile was older and taller than Cort, though not by much. He pushed his hair aside with his wrist, and Cort could feel Emile looking at him with black, shark-like eyes. Emile came to a stop in front of Cort and extended his hands, one upturned and waiting for the handshake.
"You all there, kid?" Emile asked. Cort realized he had just been standing there, evaluating the man and holding his sword. He shook Emile's hand with a free hand, surprised to be met with such a gentle grasp.
"My name's Cort, not kid," he said with a smirk. "And yeah. Han and I were talking when you and your friends busted in and started yelling."
"Sorry about them," Emile replied. He turned his head, and Cort thought he caught a smile on his face as he beheld the result of his work. "I needed their escort into town. Apparently there was some miscommunication on them being paid."
"You're a Savorian." Cort was unsure why he brought that up, but he had been examining Emile for so long he could not help but state his conclusion aloud.
"Sharp and worldly." Emile was smirking back at him. "Iphos told me you weren't just some rookie. Where're you from?"
"Vim." Cort still held his sword, but the grip loosened. He felt like he was talking to a proper ally, but he did just witness Emile kill a man with his bare hands. No reason to lose all caution yet. "I haven't seen Iphos for a while. I was expecting to meet him here, but all we've got is Han. You still want to talk to him?"
"Lead the way." Emile did a small bow, and Cort bowed in return. Vim was not a place to learn the formalities of the world, but Cort seemed to get by just imitating the people that he met. Cort walked ahead of Emile, finally sheathing his sword as the pair walked up the stairs. When they got to Han's room, Cort knocked on the door first. Emile chuckled, and the young man could feel himself growing flustered for the moments before the door opened.
Han stood in the doorway, but the person behind him drew Cort's attention first. A young man judging by the figure covered by a black cloak. His hood had been pulled over his head, providing a shadow that could obscure features. Green eyes surveyed Cort and Emile from beneath the hood, and a red cloth mask had been pulled up past his nose. He kept a hand on his shoulder to keep the cloak closed around him, and Cort noticed a ring each on his index and middle finger. They were silver with a single ruby embedded in each of them, with a thin silver chain connecting them together between his fingers.
"Good to see we're all here," Han said as he shoved his way out of the room and into the hallway with Cort and Emile. The stranger stepped out as well and shut the door behind him. Han proceeded back down the hallway to the stairwell at a brisk pace, and Cort had little choice but to follow behind as Han continued talking.
"Cort, Emile, this young lad is Lond. He's a magician's apprentice from Remus, the city where the labyrinth you'll be diving into is located." The cloaked young man nodded his head, the cloak being tugged tighter as he walked down the stairs. "He has signed his contract, and you signed with Iphos when he found you, right Emile?"
"Yeah we're all squared away," Emile answered. Cort had not realized he was walking right behind them. They had reached the main floor of the tavern where the dozen dead soldiers were laying, but the sight did not slow Han's march at all. "Sorry about this mess," Emile commented. "I had promised them you'd pay them a gold mark each. Had to get them to bring me to the bar somehow. No witnesses besides Cort and I."
"Then my lack of concern is even greater," Han remarked cooly. He and Lond stepped over a fallen soldier, and Cort quickly followed. He had not anticipated the man's reaction to be so cold, but perhaps working for a lord exposed him to worse things than a dozen dead men. "Come, you three are already late."
The group walked out of the tavern to almost an empty street. For a moment Cort wondered if news of the tavern brawl had already spread and the town guard would be there soon. However, he would not have to worry about it. They were greeted by a carriage, four horses already attached to the front. It was black with gold trimmings along the doors and windows, far more ornate than anything Cort had ever traveled in. The driver, a little man that reminded him of Han in a way, did not look at them at all. His eyes stayed focused on the street ahead of them.
Han opened up the door of the carriage and gestured for the other three to step inside. They followed his commands with no question. Cort knew what awaited him at the end of the imminent carriage ride. The labyrinth. Adventure. Fame and fortune. He stepped up into the carriage last, taking a seat beside Emile and opposite from Lond.
"You will be brought straight to Remus," Han told them, still holding onto the door of the carriage. "Truthfully, the outskirts of Remus. I will be joining you in one month to check in on progress should it take that long to clear."
"Have fun cleaning up," Emile said. He had already closed his eyes and leaned back comfortably in his seat. Cort saw Han grimace, and the door to the carriage shut. In moments Cort felt the carriage begin to move underneath him.
"Have either of you dived before?" Lond asked. His voice was a bit muffled by his mask, but Cort put Lond's age close to his own.
"Nope," Emile replied.
"Me either," Cort said. Emile opened a single eye to give the young man a quizzical look. "I'm just from Vim. You need a pass to get into the labyrinth there."
"Don't feel the need to justify yourself, young master." The ever familiar voice was followed by Ashen poking his head out of Cort's collar. He glowered as best as an ermine could at Emile. The shackled man simply smiled back at Cort's friend.
"Well I'll be damned," Emile said through his soft chuckling. "A talking weasel."
"I. Am. An. Ermine." Cort chuckled at Ashen's frustration, but a glare from the ermine brought that to an end. Ashen looked back to Emile, scanning him thoroughly looking for any form of comeback. "And besides. You have already been judged as a villain. What gave you those shackles, hmm? Are you some bandit?"
"Would you like me to unlock them?" Lond asked. Ashen suddenly perked up, but Cort just felt curious. "I imagine they're hard to fight in. It's probably a simple spell to get them off."
"I'm not that lucky," Emile replied. "It's a soulbound lock. As long as the person who put this on is alive, they won't come undone."
Cort could see Lond's eyes widen, though the words meant little to him. The three of them stopped conversing after that, choosing to remain uncomfortably silent as the carriage ride continued. Nightfall came as they rode through the sparse flatlands between their departure town and Remus.
Cort would not learn the nature of Emile's bindings until later that night when the others had fallen asleep, and Ashen used his tricks to whisper directly into Cort's mind. A soulbound lock is only used for the worst of criminals. Watch this man closely. We cannot trust him. Cort was too tired to take the full gravity of such information into account. He wanted to learn more about his new allies, but he was anxious.
What would he find if he delved too deep? And what would he have to tell them in exchange?