Bauer waved his hand, refusing to spare Kane a glance as he took a seat on one of the beds fitted with black covers. It was soft, warm, and alluring, especially after spending a long time on the run ever since the Thalamar incident.
In fact, despite the simplicity of the room, it was a luxury, something that he'd forgotten ever since he'd joined Nefandyr and later defected from. It felt as though they were moving up in the world.
Two beds laid on opposite sides across from each other, leaving enough space in between for two more, where only a rectangular window, partitioned into four smaller ones, let the moonlight spill inside.
Truly a far cry from spending nights sleeping in the nefandite infested wilderness, where there was no promise of waking up to see tomorrow.
"Better than fifty silver," he finally replied, yawning once again as he removed his gauntlets and rubbed his face. "Besides, this place is the only one near this gate."
"We're spending seventy silver a night! That's this mission's pay nearly gone in a week!"
"Look, you may not like it, but he's being this generous since we're," he held his hands up as he made air quotations, "friends of Niemand Bauer... Besides, he's already treating us to some meals as well, so the price is fair. We'd be robbing him blind if we stooped any lower."
Kane scoffed, walking over as he pushed his finger against Bauer's pauldron. "I got an idea: What if we actually told him you are," he raised a hand up as he looked to the ceiling, stressing each syllable as he said, "the Niemand Bauer? He might then cut us some more slack, and help us out even more!"
"We can't do that," he snapped, slapping away Kane's hand as he began removing his armour. "We both agreed that we cannot reveal who we are."
"Yeah, that was before I knew that we were going to be working for someone who sees this," he made air quotations as he walked off, staring out the window, "Niemand Bauer as a friend!"
"Hey man," he rubbed his burning eyes, "I don't know if you can fit it in your busy schedule, but can you take one day to stop bitching for five minutes?" Why the fuck did I listen to Maleagant?
Kane glared back. "Motherfucker, did you forget why we needed the silver?"
Bauer, having removed his armour, laid against the soft black sheet. His neck was sore from the many nights spent sleeping on the ground, enjoying the comfort of a fluffy pillow for once. "Of course not."
"So why are we spending this silver—that took us nearly a week to acquire, mind you—on a place to sleep?"
Bauer looked to his right, finding Kane staring out the window with half open eyes and a scowl mixed with displeasure, his pale skin glowing with the moonlight that embraced the hue as its own, a testament to the shift in his mental state. It was almost disheartening, for when he first met Kane, the boy's eyes brimmed with life, and his expression—despite all hardships—was neutral on the worst of days.
Now, Kane's only expressions were that of anger, restlessness, and disapproval, amplified by the seemingly lifeless, cold, and unwelcoming eyes that harboured a certain darkness that even made Bauer feel on edge at times.
Was it simply something that came with age? After all, the boy had only just turned seventeen not that long ago, which of course, was not a day that Kane dared to reveal to anyone. Perhaps it was fated as so, that the winter solstice heralded the arrival of life that carried nothing but cold and harsh qualities? Maybe it was just something on his mind at the moment, though that moment had lasted the couple of weeks they'd spent travelling Teivel and working for the fat man, ever since the fall of Thalamar.
Whatever it was, Bauer sighed, returning his gaze to the wooden ceiling, where a small chandelier hung in the centre. "Did you not want to rest in some place comfortable?"
Kane's jaw tightened, revealing it through the side of his twitching mouth. "I've gone all my life without it... I'm fine keeping it that way."
"Not all your life."
Kane peered at Bauer through the corner of his eye, before dragging his gaze to his empty bed. What could he say? He did once experience the comfort and warmth of sleeping like a baby when he had the opportunity to do so in Maleagant's abode.
But that was different, and it just so happened that, the one time he did sleep in a bed, he entered what he could only describe as an "abandoned hope". A place where nothing but the looming shadow of a crowned and inexplicable colossus reached into the void, straight for him.
He shivered, the fear travelling down his spine as he pondered on the experience. Was it a dream or not? he wondered, taking a seat on the bed, rolling up into a ball as he rested his back against the head rest. I still remember those words... "Go and die... Now you suffer... Feel the pain... I hate you!"
He shuddered at the harsh words, wondering just who carried such internal strife that they inflicted mortal wounds with words sharper than any blade. And yet, his mind dwelled on two answers:
Myself or the Bishop?
One thing was clear to him, whatever that malevolent, shadowy being was, it was definitely not the one to say those words; he could put his life on it. That plagued his mind even more, however, with the question constantly looming around. If those were the Bishops words, then it would cement the fact that Maleagant was truly dead, which he deluded himself to believe was not the case.
But if those were his words, then who would be receiving them?
He looked to his left, finding Bauer already fast asleep. He stared in silence, his mind plunging into a panic, feeling the weight of the world collapsing on his conscience. It was as though a vision had taken place in the few moments he spent watching Bauer, and he'd just barely managed to shake out of the feeling. Though with heavy and ragged breaths, he dismissed the feeling of despair, and pulled out the brown pouch Maleagant had left for him.
Reaching into it, he pulled out several parchments, sifting through ones he'd already read for something that could answer his questions. Though, of course, if it were that easy, then he'd have nothing to worry about, and perhaps he would've been in a brighter mood.
Still, he read through the many parchments, looking for the one that revealed the reason they were even working for silver. He held one tight as his eyes quickly scanned the ink.
... Though you may not have considered it before, Kane, your calling is to be a wizard like myself. Your body is too frail and feeble to commit to the path of the blade.
Kane held a sour expression as he closed his eyes, his face scrunching up at the truth. He already knew that, and it wasn't in any way, shape, or form, comforting to have his thoughts reaffirmed. Nevertheless, he looked through another parchment.
... Maleagant was my false name.
That was cool, but not what he was looking for, so he searched through another.
... What you need is to hone your skills with magic.
He raised a brow, remembering that this was the one.
Those scouting missions I sent you on for moonshades weren't just for some silver. The mystical ponds aren't called that just for show. Harboured within is a taint of the building blocks of the universe as we know it. Simply put: The ponds you've spent time around have been enhancing your affinity to weave magic.
While that was neat to learn, and something he was grateful for, that wasn't what he was interested in at moment, and so he quickly skimmed the rest, stopping only at the one thing he was looking for.
... If you wish to become a powerful spellcaster, you must see to it that you construct a staff. That wand is a good start, he pulled out the crooked twig and looked at it for a bit, but it will only get you so far before you realize that it's lacking power; the ability to channel greater spells. Find a wand you feel a connection to, seek out an artificer, and have it appraised... But be warned, they are spread thin; far and wide, for they are heavily condemned.
Well that's great, so he thought, shaking his head as he rolled up the parchment. Now it's time to find someone who, as far as they're concerned, doesn't exist. I wonder why?
He let out a heavy sigh, letting the back of his head smack against the head rest, looking to the ceiling as he pondered how he was going to advance with magic. It was times like these that he wished he could've had everything handed down.
In short: He wished he was spoiled.
After a while of contemplating, his eyes lit up and his clenched jaw loosened.
There is someone I can ask.