The conversation drifted toward the Revolutionary Act in New Atlantis
Enigma.
The name echoed in Ithri's mind, a whisper threading through the charged atmosphere. He listened, his thoughts darting between the voices like a shadow in the fog.
Mr. Dog spoke sharply, his tone clipped yet composed. "The workers hijacked a shipping vessel bound for the southern colonies with rifles, pistols, even four cannons. The council can't ignore this."
Phinx leaned back, a wry smirk playing on her lips. "Bold, I'll give them that. But there's no way they pulled it off without Shina's hand guiding the play. That level of execution? Coincidence doesn't cover it."
Her fingers drummed a slow rhythm on the table, her smirk deepening. "Of course, if caught, the council will descend on them like an iron hammer. High stakes always keep things... interesting."
" I'd challenge that " Pairets countered evenly. "They've got at least two masters with artifacts backing them."
Phinx arched a brow, her smirk sharpening like a blade. "Oh? Don't tell me you plan to throw in with the revolution yourself."
Pairets gave no reply, his expression unreadable, a stone-made mask.
Now's my chance, Ithri thought, his pulse quickening as he stepped forward, the weight of the moment thrumming in his chest.
"I wonder," he said, his tone calm but unhurried, "does anybody here know about this so-called Enigma?"
Silence rippled through the group, broken only by Mr. Dog's low, steady voice. "Rumor has it he's become something of a revolutionary figure. Ever since the army seized Striro, he's been stepping out of the shadows."
Striro. The name struck like the toll of a heavy bell, reverberating through Ithri's mind. Three years ago, the revolution had torn the region apart, a storm of chaos and bloodshed. Ithri remembered seeing it all unfold in the news pictures of ruined cities, desperate faces, and the unspeakable atrocities that scarred the land. The memory lingered, sharp and unyielding, like a wound that refused to heal.
Pirate chuckled, his voice tinged with wry humor."Sailors can't stop talking about him. A bit too flashy for my tastes seems to enjoy playing the savior for the downtrodden."
Phinx tapped her chin thoughtfully. "New Atlantis is a powder keg, waiting for a spark. It's only a matter of time."
Ithri leaned forward, his voice low but firm, cutting through the tension like a blade. "If anyone can bring me more on him the information I'll pay in kind. Something valuable."
Phinx's sharp gaze locked onto him. "And what would that be?"
"A book from the Per Atlantis era," Ithri replied, the weight of his words hanging in the air. "One about the Burning City."
Phinx's eyes glimmered with intrigue. "The Burning City? That's not something you trade lightly."
"It's precious," Ithri admitted. "But so is what I need."
Mr. Dog inclined his head slightly, his tone measured. "You're walking a dangerous line, boy. The knowledge of the First Men rarely comes without consequence. Still..."
His lips curved into a faint smile. "I might be interested."
Ithri hesitated for a moment before asking cautiously, "I've heard of The Silver vanguard. What does it mean?"
The room stilled, the air taut, until Mr. Dog replied, his words deliberate. "The Silver Vanguard has roots tied to Akina. But... what does it mean?" He leaned closer, his voice lowering. "Well, that's a tale in itself."
Ithri frowned, curiosity piqued. "And?"
Mr. Dog's lips curved slyly. "I could offer you a dream deal to explain it?"
"A dream deal?" Ithri echoed, intrigued.
Phinx leaned back in her chair, her grin widening. "There are several advantages to this dream world, and one of them is the dream deal."
"In a dream deal, two individuals shake on the premise as if on the contract written on the fabrics of thought itself. You name your terms, you name your stakes, and it's a deal. The catch? Nothing else fears, no doubts, no outside forces- get to interfere."
Mr. Dog glanced between Pairets and Phinx. "Then I suppose this meeting concludes?"
Without a word, Pairets melted into the shadows, his presence vanishing like smoke.
Phinx shrugged, a sly smile tugging at her lips. "Looks like it. Bye."
---
The table fell silent, the fading echoes of the conversation lingering in the air like smoke, heavy and tangible.
Ithri broke the stillness, his voice steady but laced with tension. "What do you want?"
Mr. Dog's gaze sharpened, his expression unreadable as though weighing each word carefully. "Where did you get the book? If you answer me, I'll answer you."
Ithri hesitated. In the dream world, lying was impossible. The rules of this space allowed no room for deception. Thoughts and intentions bled through the ether, exposing truths even when one tried to conceal them.
The logic here doesn't work the same, Ithri thought, his focus narrowing. You need the Dreamcatcher's power to make sense of it all.
Faces in this realm were fluid, constantly shifting, but the deeper you delved into the dream's true nature, the clearer those avatars became. With enough concentration, you could see through unspoken lies watching as faces blurred or twisted with every shift in truth.
"I couldn't say," Ithri finally responded, his voice unwavering despite the pressure.
Mr. Dog's eyes flickered briefly, his lips tightening. "I'll ask another question." His tone was colder now, each word precise. "But this is my last. If you don't answer, there's no deal."
Leaning forward, Ithri placed his hands on the table, his expression calms though his thoughts churned beneath the surface.
"Yesterday, in the Black Market of New Atlantis, an announcement was made," Mr. Dog continued, his voice steady and deliberate. "The third book, All in One, appeared. Are you associated with it?"
The question hung in the air like a blade, sharp and unforgiving.
Ithri's gaze remained steady. Very smart, he thought, his mind racing. In this realm, overthinking carried consequences stray thoughts often materialized, revealing more than one intended. Already, his face shifted subtly, betraying the tension he tried to mask.
I need to strike a deal with him, he reasoned. It likely suspects I have the book—or worse, that I've uncovered more. This could be my edge.
He exhaled slowly, weighing his response. "I've heard of All in One. Enough to know it's dangerous. As for being connected to it…" He paused, letting the silence speak for him.
Mr. Dog's eyes narrowed slightly. "If you've heard of the Silver Vanguard," he said, leaning forward, his voice laced with intent, "then you've probably heard whispers of their fate. I could tell you more."
He knows too much, Ithri thought, a spark of calculation flickering in his mind. This man could be useful. I need to make him an asset.
"Alright," Ithri said, his tone measured. "Let's make the deal."
The words felt heavier than he expected as they left his mouth.
Mr. Dog raised a hand, and a faint glow shimmered around his fingers. Slowly, a light-pen took form, floating in the air like it had a will of its own. With a flick of his wrist, a sheet of parchment materialized, hovering between them. Its edges curled slightly, as though eager to bind them.
"This contract," Mr. Dog began, his voice smooth as silk, "will define the terms. What do you want?"
Ithri paused before speaking carefully. "I have one condition. Whatever is said here, you don't tell anyone else neither those who were nor those who will be at this table."
Mr. Dog nodded, his expression was unreadable. "Agreed."
The pen hovered, and as if guided by an unseen force, it began to write.
Ithri watched intently, his thoughts measured. This is it. Make sure the terms are airtight.
Mr. Dog added, "You will ask me three questions. I reserve the right to dismiss one of them. If I cannot answer a question, I will have no obligation to respond, and that counts as my answer. The same applies to you."
Ithri considered the terms, nodding. "Fair enough."
The pen moved again, finalizing the contract.
Mr. Dog wasted no time. "The first question: What kind of relationship do you have with the announcement in New Atlantis' Black Market?"
Ithri's gaze didn't falter. He's implying ties, he thought. If I had none, I'd refuse this outright. Smart man.
"I'm the one who made the statement," Ithri said evenly. "And I'm the owner of the two books."
Mr. Dog raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Famous already, Mr Boy. Earlier, we were talking about you. Your fight's all over the Dreamworlds."
Ithri offered no reaction, his face unreadable.
"Alright," Mr. Dog continued coolly. "The second question: Where did you find the place? Include the details."
"I choose not to answer," Ithri replied smoothly, holding his gaze.
Mr. Dog's eyes narrowed, but he moved on without protest.
"The third question," he said, his tone steady but probing, "you've found many books. Do they all bear at least a trace of burning?"
Ithri froze for a heartbeat, his thoughts racing. How does he know that?