Den of Iniquity

The pitch-black moon shone ever-serene atop the Divine Capital, only eclipsed by the pale radiance of the seven-pointed star. They gazed over Priene as the agora cleared, the shops closed, and nocturnal festivities moved to indoor symposiums.

Still, one particular type of establishment remained just as bustling, if not more active than during daytime.

In a secluded corner of the city, brothels and markets for all pleasures glittered like tawdry jewels amidst the crumbled buildings of the slums. Inside one of them, east of the Blighted Crater, as dubbed by the locals, a melodious song punctuated the hedonistic cheers and grunts.

Segment V Jonam sat alone in a corner, sipping yellow wine while carefully observing the stir of customers and prostitutes. Nave Shevach, the other branch leader, was surrounded by half-naked, beautiful young women as he played the harp, singing in a flowery dialect of the western isles.

A faint, red streak on his nose marked him as already intoxicated, and he fondled a nearby breast whenever his notes grew few enough to be aptly handled by one hand.

"He's having too much fun," Jonam grumbled, slightly annoyed by his easy-going demeanor.

"Aren't you too young for this establishment, little boy?" A honeyed voice breathed in his ears.

Jonam glanced up and saw a woman clad in red silk, tightened under the bosom to accentuate her most prominent features. She looked in her early twenties and was unusually fair-skinned for a Hierapetran, sporting strands of neatly-braided light brown hair that hung over her delicate neck.

Her hazel eyes appraised him with the gaze of a predator on the prowl, and she patted her rosy cheeks with slender fingers, her plump lips curving into a smile. "Or do your tastes already exceed that slight frame of yours?"

Homunculi had no sexual drive unless crafted explicitly for that purpose, so Jonam found her attempt jarring at best. Nevertheless, his mission took precedence over his comfort, hence why he decided to humor her.

"There are plenty of men around, and many of bigger build. Do you take me for a challenge, or am I mere practice?" He answered, feigning evasive interest.

The woman sat before him, the sweet, enthralling scent of her perfume wafting in the air. She ensured her breasts were well within Jonam's sight, cradled between the transparent fabric.

"The night is long enough for a witty exchange, but let us first have a deeper understanding of each other, shall we?"

She reached under the table, coursing her hand atop Jonam's thigh. Her fingers moved with practiced skill, and she grasped for a more intimate spot beneath his tunic... only to find nothing.

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Am I not to your taste? Too old, perhaps?"

"It depends on how you view it," Jonam said, amused. "I'm more than four centuries your eldest, after all."

The prostitute's puzzled expression transitioned to a grimace, and she broke into a laugh, visibly not taking him seriously. "You're amusing. You'll grow into a fine heart-breaker."

She retracted her hand, then slid it forward, clasping Jonam's cup. "Getting rejected is a sad thing. I'll take this as an apology, alright?"

Jonam shrugged dismissively. "Be my guest."

She sampled the sour wine, and her eyes immediately widened. "An odd choice for a boy. You're truly peculiar. What's your name?"

"Kaenas of Dyme." He gave her his fake Hierapetran identity.

"Mine is Pelopia." She tilted her head, her gaze narrowing. "You don't look Hierapetran to me."

"My mother is from the western isles," he spoke lightly as if it was an unimportant detail. "I took mostly after her."

She nodded, half-curious, "I see."

Behind her, the sound of Nave's harp resonated chaotically. He had abandoned all pretense at playing and began roughly entertaining one of the young prostitutes.

Pelopia glanced at the sudden noise and chuckled, "Is that a friend of yours? His white hair is quite exotic. The girls are all over him."

As her body contorted from looking back, Jonam noticed white streaks on her silk robe.

Red spots on her skin, which had been carefully hidden with colored powder, were now bare for the Homunculus to see. He recognized the bulbous scars, cracked and connected by yellow, pus-oozing veins.

"You're afflicted," he said, lowering his voice so only she could hear him. "Touched by the Pale Malady."

Pelopia's body froze, and he could see the sensual glint in her eye being stifled by fear.

"What do you mean?" She managed to ask, her tone getting colder.

"Clustered marks of that nature are seldom seen," he calmly explained, "for they are born of pale-white feathers torn from the flesh. The pain of forcibly ripping them is excruciating, and it is well-advised to let them recede as the Malady fades away. Why are you torturing yourself?"

"I don't know what you are talking about." She quickly rose from her seat, looking to escape his scrutiny. However, Jonam's following words cut her movements short.

"Is it not prohibited by the Temple of Stars to engage in such a profession while afflicted?" He clasped his hands together, elbows on the table. "A single word and this whole establishment could be closed down. Knowing that, do you still wish to flee?"

Pelopia's hands trembled, and she bit her lip before sitting back on the chair. Her frustration was hidden in a talented display of self-restraint, replaced by an alluring smile.

"It seems like I've encountered a rather troublesome boy." She paused. "What do you want?"

"Answers to my questions."

"Coins would have given you the same result without being disagreeable," she spat.

"But how would I have been able to guarantee your honesty?"

"How can you guarantee it right now?"

Jonam held his chin with his hand. "That game will lead you nowhere. You have much more to lose, after all. No one plagued by the Pale Malady would want to keep working while suffering the agony of ripped feathers. Unless they can't afford to quit, of course."

The corners of Pelopia's mouth twitched, which deepened Jonam's smile.

"You have someone to care for, maybe?" He guessed. "Sick parents? Or younger siblings, perhaps?"

She flinched at his words, slumping her shoulders down. "Alright. What do you want to know?"