88- Wuk’chikad

Quayleigh enjoyed the rest of her lunch break speaking with Phaedra about a myriad of subjects, but with the tea gone and it nearing the top of the hour, she knew it was time to return to work.

"This really has been enjoyable Phaedra. Thank you for doing all of this for me."

"I certainly hope this won't be the last time you join me. I do tend to eat lunch every day," he remarked with a smile that caused Quayleigh to giggle. "Ah, so I do have a sense of humor after all."

"No, you merely amuse me. That does not equate to a sense of humor," she replied as she stood, picking up her file, before heading towards the door.

"Make sure to give the file to Riannoske. He will be able to watch over it and take it directly outside without being searched. It will save you time when you are ready to leave."

"Will I see you before I go?"

"Not today I'm afraid, not unless you plan to stay passed four. In which case, I can arrange for a delightful dinner. I heard the chefs were preparing spatchcock hens in rosemary gravy for tonight's entrée."

"As enticing as that sounds, I really can't stay tonight. I already have plans. Tomorrow though, that is an entirely different story. I have the night off from work and I was hoping it would be alright if I stayed here longer than agreed upon. After all, the sooner I get done with this research, the sooner I can get out of the way. Although, I am hoping that you won't mind if I come by for the occasional visit, every now and again."

"I would welcome the company," he replied with something akin to sadness hanging on his words.

"Good. I'm relieved to hear that. And as lovely as the cafeteria was, I think I would prefer to dine with you. So, lunch again tomorrow?" she asked as she grabbed a clean set of gloves and a mask from the bins at the door.

"Only if you're willing to trust me to order for you again."

"I will look forward to it," she replied before fixing the mask into place and putting on the gloves.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," he stated opening the door for her.

With a nod, she left his office, the door closing quietly behind her.

She had kept up the smile and the friendly atmosphere between them; they were practically family after all, but there was still an uncomfortable nagging feeling lingering in the pit of her stomach the closer it came to her departure time. A feeling that questioned the sincerity and familial connection she had with Phaedra. While her initial instinct was to trust him, there was still a possibility that Folsten knew something that she didn't, but there was also something off about the way she acted when it came to the MET as a whole. The entire situation felt unstable, as if there was something else going on around her that she couldn't get a handle on, and it made everything feel off. There were eyes on her now, she felt as if she was being watched and stared at, as she began to head towards the central area. And this made her wonder if others knew of her father, the connection to Phaedra, or if they were judging her for an entirely different reason.

"Are you ready to return to your station?" Riannoske asked as he seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"Yes, and Phaedra said that you would watch over this file for me?"

"I will. Please, follow me."

Quayleigh followed Riannoske through a labyrinth of bookshelves. She thought it strange that they hadn't taken the direct reverse route until he stopped at the shelf to pick up a larger black tome, before returning to their work area.

"Did you find anything of interest?" she asked in an attempt to start a conversation.

"Possibly. I need to verify something first, however. I understand you are scheduled to depart at 2. Unfortunately, that doesn't give you much time as I would like to discuss my notes starting at 1:30," he replied as he set down the tome and began to flip through the pages.

"Okay. I will leave you to your work until then."

"Thank you," he replied as he held his hand out towards her while reading the page he had turned to. "The file."

"Oh, right," she said handing it to him, having completely forgotten about it.

Returning to her own workspace, she sat on the stool and returned to the book she had been reading. While the information had been interesting, she had realized over lunch, that reading anything, cover to cover, was going to be more problematic than helpful. Not to mention ludicrously time consuming giving her struggle with the older languages. She was here for a specific reason after all, and as much as she wanted to learn everything she could, it simply wasn't feasible, and it was dangerous. At the moment, she was still in a relatively safe position as she hadn't yet managed to prove herself capable of more than reading a few words on a page. She had yet to consume anything of value or note, and for now, it seemed a wise choice to skip the digesting of knowledge and keep to the appetizers. Thus, she adopted a different technique to make better use of her time and started to write out a list of key words and runes that might be pertinent to what she wanted to know or anything that could be deemed as a solid enough pile of bullshit to stand on when explaining the who and what of Uroxuz to the police. She hadn't made much headway when Riannoske arrived at her desk.

"I have something to show you," he said as she set down her writing implement.

"That sounds promising," she replied as she stood and followed him to his workstation.

"This text," he said pointing to an area on the outstretched scroll, "refers to a summoning ritual with an incredibly unique property. After summoning a creature, they call a Wuk'chikad, it permanently binds it into the service of the caster. Then the caster uses this sigil, Utatöm, to then call it forth to do his or her biding. The ritual is incredibly complex, and there are several components that I have yet to find a translation for, like asafaeda chov, Ligent, or masshira, but then there is this one, that I've seen before in later works, which I wanted to verify, homidae cronto."

"Human time," she remarked, slightly confused by her layman's translation. "Is that a polite way of saying human sacrifice?"

"More accurately, at least in this context, a human heart. This book is from the Kiratonian Dynasty. They believed that we were born with a finite amount of heart beats, and when they run out, we die. They also believed that consuming another's heart could add a portion of their remaining time to their own. This cannibalistic belief traces back through all previous dynasties to the time of this scroll. Essentially proving that the Kiratana incorporated the beliefs of the surviving cultures of the ones they conquered, but it's also most likely what drove them to be conquerors to begin with."

"So, a human heart is needed to summon the creature, but what about after? None of bodies so far are missing their hearts."

"They wouldn't be. While the heart is needed for the summoning and binding, there is nothing in this scroll that specifically says that more hearts are needed, but it does say that the Wuk'chikad consumes, what roughly translates into life. In the context of this scroll, this ritual is specifically to be used in battles where there is no chance of winning otherwise or, and it states this quite clearly, vengeance. And it all comes down to the cost, which is astronomical. According to this, the sigil literally sucks the life out of the caster giving it to the Wuk'chikad, rapidly aging them. And while the text doesn't give exact numbers, it says something along the lines of harvest to harvest for sun to take a stone. Assuming this is a reference to the way they measured time, then I can estimate this to mean one year for one hour."

"That's insane. Is that flat rate or could it be offset by killing others? Is there a description of the Wuk'chikad or mention of what it might actually be?"

"Not that I have read so far, but there is this illustration," he replied as he moved towards the beginning of the scroll. "Sadly, the border here has been damaged quite badly and the bulk of the illustration has been lost, but if you look close, you can make out where there would be this long dark section and based on the reading of the scroll, it could be interpreted as what should be an image of the creature."

"Would knowing what it looks like be of any help to you?"

"It may. I know much of the creatures written of within the archives. If I knew its appearance, I may be able to narrow down the search. Although, knowing that someone has called it a Karakaram is of some help. I would prefer to see it for myself before giving too much credence to that description though."

Quayleigh nodded and looked at the clock. "Come with me to my room. It's my turn to show you something."

"Very well. Did you have anything you wanted to take with you today, aside from this file?"

"No. Unlike you, I didn't get a whole lot done."

"Don't be discouraged. Between this morning's activities and your extended lunch with Phaedra, you didn't have a lot of time with the books," he replied as he gathered his notes and set them on top of the file. "I will give these to you for review tonight. They might be of use with your own collection or if you have access to a private one."

"Actually, my access is really limited on every front. My boyfriend just bought me a copy of Athigoom Ira Tafięk and the Diama'tara Svöghiir as a gift. I never thought I'd ever have a chance to own either one of them, let alone both," she said as he secured the scroll and covered it in a lightweight cloth.

"Normally someone would choose between them, depending on their course of study, but to know both is quite a feat. I take it that you never specialized then?" he asked as they left their work area at a casual pace.

"Nope. My teacher never pushed me into a specific direction. He thought a broader spectrum would give me an advantage. I suppose, at least in this regard, he was right."

"What was he hoping to give you an advantage at?" Riannoske questioned, sounding more curious than intentionally probing.

"This might surprise you, but for the MET entry exams. Had things gone differently, I'd be your peer instead of your guest."

"I see. Your teacher wasn't incorrect. Depending on the year, you could have a considerable advantage. That does beg the question though, how are you still unregistered if you were planning on joining the MET?"

"In short, my teacher is a bit different. He never actually got around to registering me as his apprentice, and then life went to shit and there was no longer a reason for him to do it. I still enjoy the study and reading, but practically I'm way to broke to be practicing anything," she explained as they entered into the airlocked changing area, where they removed their masks and gloves, and exchanged their shoes.

"You don't normally work for the police then?"

"Nope. I'm really just a convenience store clerk that got dragged into all of this because of circumstances and unusual connections. I barely even managed to get my GED before I was twenty, and with only one working eye, I'm not exactly police material. I'm completely ordinary. Nothing impressive."

"But you're out there, and to me, that is something impressive."

"Then you're a ward here?"

"Yes, but while most of the wards are abandoned here, I was relinquished into their care. My mother is a criminal, or so I've been told, and it was my grandmother who brought me in when she noticed my unnatural affinity. I was six when I last saw her."

"I was nine the last time I saw anyone in my blood family, so I understand what it's like. I'm sorry that happened to you."

"I'm not. I live a good life here. I've wanted for nothing since my arrival, I enjoy my work, my magic is under control, and Phaedra has been an exceptional mentor. I know it isn't the same for everyone, but for me, it is the best I could have hoped for," he said as he walked her to the door to her room.

Entering the room, she made her way to the desk and pulled the file from the bag.

"You can come inside. Bit hard to keep this discreet if we're flashing these to every camera in the hallway," Quayleigh remarked as she watched Riannoske step hesitantly into the room. "Not supposed to come in here, I take it?"

"As you guessed, you are being monitored. I will be questioned as to why I was in here."

"Tell them I wanted to talk to you about tomorrow and insisted on it, since I did want to ask you about staying outside of the agree upon times, but before that, here," she said as she handed him the picture of Uroxuz. "This is what they are calling a Karakaram. I'm not even sure Phaedra's seen this yet, so I would appreciate it if you could hide it on yourself and take it to him. If he knows what we're looking for, he might be able to be of more help."

"You are welcome to stay here outside of the arranged hours as long as you show up during the expected times. However, you may wish to speak to your police liaison to ensure that she's alright with any changes to your schedule. She seems uneasy about being here," he remarked as he held the picture up to the light and examined it from different angles.

"Is it any surprise that she's uneasy? She's hiding something. Only the dead leave nothing behind on those special canvases."

"Or someone purposely refusing to leave their mark. I wasn't certain if you were aware," Riannoske replied as he lowered the picture and looked her in the eye.

"It was pretty obvious after using it myself. I assume you did a background check on both of us?"

"Phaedra was given the files, and I wasn't privy to them, but it is safe to assume hers wasn't authentic. She's been trained, that much is irrefutable. I suspect, the magister will be making further inquiries."

"No surprise there."

"No, no surprises. If I hear anything, I will let you know, and I will be certain to get this to Phaedra."

"Any thoughts?"

"I have a few, but a Karakaram this is not."

"I see. Then let's keep that between us for now. No one needs to know that I showed that to you," Quayleigh remarked as Riannoske folded the picture and slid it into his sleeve.

"I understand. You are free to leave whenever you are ready. You will be searched by the guard at the door, and I will meet you outside at the van. I'll have your file waiting for you. I will also be ordering three more sets of robes for you in a smaller size. They will be waiting for you here tomorrow, and now, I will leave you to change."

"Thanks. I'll see you outside soon," she replied as he took his leave, closing the door as he left.

After she had changed, Quayleigh joined Folsten in the waiting area.

"I'm sorry for the position you're in. It must be terribly boring just sitting here," Quayleigh said as they headed to the elevator.

"It's fine. Nothing like getting paid to sit in a comfortable chair for hours on end. At least tomorrow I'll have some work to do while I wait for you," Folsten replied as the door opened and they stepped inside.

"About tomorrow, I was hoping it would be alright if I stayed a few hours late. When I asked for a liaison, I didn't actually expect them to assign someone to sit around all day, but I have the opportunity tomorrow to work late…"

"Quayleigh, you can stay as late you like, but I'm leaving at 2," Folsten replied.

"Great! I'm really glad you don't have to stay because of me. I'll arrange for a ride home and with any luck this opportunity will shorten the days we have to be here. Speaking of which, you really don't have to wait all day either, just as long as I can call you if I have problems."

"We can discuss that on our way back to the station. But it's good to know that you feel comfortable enough to be here on your own," Folsten said as they arrived at the main floor.

"Oh, it's not that I'm comfortable exactly. It's more like I just don't see a need for you to be sitting in a waiting room for me. I really only needed you to be here to ensure that they let me in and out. After all, once I'm here, I'm entirely in their care, whether either of us likes it or not."

Quayleigh grinned as she stepped in front of Folsten and showed her ID to the guard. The guard, whose name tag read 'Ridaq', stepped from behind her desk. She had clearly been given specific instructions when it came to searching Quayleigh, and much to her surprised, it was quick and noninvasive; just a basic pat down and pocket check. To Quayleigh this only emphasized how closely they had been monitoring and watching her throughout the day.

As she stepped outside, Quayleigh took in a deep breath of the crisp autumn air and smiled at the sight of Riannoske ushering her to the awaiting van. She had made it in and out of the MET without any trouble, at least for that day, and to her, that sense of freedom, it had never felt more real.