Witches and Currency (2).

Leon stood from his seat, brushing the front of his robe.

"If you want to meet a witch, the place you're looking for is a little off the edge of the East Docks."

Richard raised a brow,

"You mean the old docking district?"

Leon nodded.

Celine frowned,

"Somewhere like that... I bet there would be no better place to find a witch."

While witches weren't all powerful beings, they did have a reputation for being rather creepy and eccentric.

They could also inflict terrible curses onto a person, or even an entire family or generational lineage.

No human in their right mind would like to be, cursed so it was natural that witches were avoided.

Richard nodded,

"If sorcerers like us practice magic that goes against God, witchcraft is more of rebellion. A rather nasty thing. I assume a place like the East Docks is a haven for such practices."

Leon smiled faintly. "That's because it is. And the Circle doesn't involve itself with witches unless it is must. But we make exceptions when we're in need of... alternative solutions."

"Which we are?" Umbra asked, already knowing the answer.

Leon's shrugged,

"Not really. Witches buy origin essence cores for a rather pretty penny. Normal brokers associated with the circle have rates that will make you curse their third generation."

He turned to Richard,

"Not many sorcerers would think to make use of witches in this manner. Or at all for the record."

Vagabond nodded in agreement,

"Witches are bad business."

Richard returned Leon's stare with a calm look of his own, but refused to say anything.

Leon sighed,

"In any case, taking them through this channel isn't a bad idea."

That answer was enough for Richard. He sighed and pushed himself to his feet.

"Well, then. Let's go consort with the damned."

***

The East Docks was a part of the city that had slowly lost its shape and soul over the years.

Stone gave way to splintered wood while bricks dissolved into rusted metal.

Abandoned cranes and steel containers stood like monuments of abandon. Even the shadows here stretched longer, and the fog that curled around their feet had a damp scent.

The scent of ocean.

They walked into the pier in silence, boots crunching over sand and grit.

The docks weren't empty too.

Dim lights poured out of a few empty containers and the sound of muffled conversation as well as loud laughs and the occasional scream pointed to a few things.

While the docks might house a witch, it was also home to more unsavory characters...

In other words, it was a den of crime.

Richard couldn't help but smile.

Taking in a deep breath of the salty ocean air, he couldn't help but feel relaxed.

The mundane humans had no idea about the horrors and terror that lived in the night. It was right beside them, resting on their shoulders, whispering profane words and madness into their souls.

But because they could not see it, it did not exist.

Yes, the Underworld was a part of reality that did and did not exist.

He chuckled to himself.

"What's so funny?"

He tilted his head.

Celine had wrapped herself in a thick, dark coat. Her piercing gaze was trained on him. It was filled with many emotions, including hate and loathing.

But there was also a pinch of curiosity that made her eyes sparkle in the night.

Richard chuckled again,

"Nothing."

Vagabond walked ahead of the group. Any unscrupulous characters that set their eyes on their group were forced to back away rather quickly after setting their eyes on him.

Of course, there were a few more stubborn individuals that followed behind them, but the group paid them no mind.

They stopped at the end of a broken pier, where a small rusted container leaned precariously over the edge, its metal half-eaten by sea water.

Richard immediately knew they had arrived at the right place.

The air shimmered with magic. A rustic, archaic magic that was not found just anywhere.

He ran his tongue across his teeth.

Leon stepped forward and knocked twice on the rotting steel door attached to the container.

Then once more, slower.

A pause.

Then the door opened.

It was not a woman who greeted them, but a boy.

Or at least, Richard assumed it was a boy. These days, one could never be so sure, especially with witches.

Sometimes, the eyes can be deceived and what appeared to be is not.

After a second glance, Richard finally recognized what for off.

The boy's skin was too pale, and his eyes were too large. They were also black as ink.

He didn't speak. He just stared at them for a moment. Eeriely.

Then he stepped aside.

Leon turned around and motioned them in.

Upon entering inside, to their amazement, they realized that the interior of the shack was far larger than what was seen outside.

'A pocket dimension, no doubt.' Richard thought to himself.

The room was dimly lit, revealing shelves stacked with different colorful vials, charms, and bones from all sorts of strange creature of this world. And perhaps another...

The air reeked of strange perfumes with a light stench of rot.

Leon led the way forward until they stopped in front of a small, low table.

At the other end of the table, laying on a large lavender pillow...

The Witch.

Richard's eyes narrowed.

'She certainly looks like a witch.'

All the witches he had met usually had a distinct property;

They were all drop dead gorgeous.

Like they were born of the very element of temptation and lust with curvy bodies that could cause any man to fall into sin.

'But of course, that's how they get you.' Richard shivered as a couple bad memories almost resurfaced.

Turning his attention back to the Witch, he noticed that she looked rather young.

Her presence was just like a witches, a faint, lingering darkness about her.

She wore light, almost transparent clothing that revealed her skin. It was smooth and unblemished.

Her eyes... they were silver. Like the surface of a still lake reflecting the pale moonlight. Her fingers were long and bone-thin. Her hair fell like silk over a dress that shimmered with stardust.

"Leon," she said, her voice like the sound of wind rustling over graves. It was rustic, yet enchanting at the same time.

"I thought you said you'd never come see me again. Why the change of heart?"

Richard smiled as he glanced at Leon,

"Hm? A regular customer?"

Leon's expression darkened. Then he cleared his throat,

"Maribel. I have business for you. I'm not here for myself."

The Witch, Maribel, smiled softly. If he didn't have a strong heart, Richard felt he would have found himself enchanted.

He glanced back and sighed.

Sure enough, Gregory was one step away from drooling.

The Witch's eyes drifted over the group.

"I see. They certainly smell fresh. A rather pleasant change."

Leon frowned, "Don't go getting any funny ideas."

He turned to Richard.

Richard nodded and stepped forward, holding up the two origin essence cores, both pulsing faintly with concentrated magical energy.

Maribel raised a brow. Stretching her dainty fingers forward, the two glowing gems floated away from his grip and appeared in her hands.

She twirled them a bit,

"A horror-class. It's decent."

Leon snorted,

"Save me that crap. This is high quality stuff. Don't think you can rip me off."

She smiled,

"Is that so..."

Then she turned to Richard,

"Are you the ones that sent it back?"

Richard nodded,

"We are."

She nodded,

"Then I assume you want a good split. How does ten apostate-class cores sound."

Richard smiled,

"Thirty."

Maribel frowned,

"What?"

Leon shot him a look,

"Richard. What are you—"

Richard grinned,

"Thirty apostate-class origin essence cores. Fifteen each."

Maribel chuckled. Then she turned to Leon,

"Is this your kid? If he's yours, he certainly inherited your guts."

Leon frowned,

"He most definitely isn't mine."

He sighed then turned to Cain,

"Even I wouldn't be so greedy."

Richard shrugged,

"Those are good quality cores. I think that's a fair price."

Maribel stared deeper at him,

"While I do agree that they are indeed of good quality, you do realize going through more appropriate channels, you might only get half my initial offer."

Richard shrugged,

"That's why we came to you."

Maribel went silent for a moment,

"I'll give you fifteen."

"Call it twenty and you've got yourself a deal."

Maribel turned to Leon again,

"Are you sure he's not yours?"

Leon's dark expression darkened even more.

Richard chuckled,

"Call it supporting the younger generation. What do you think?"

Maribel went silent for a moment, a strange smile on her face as she stared at him.

Richard suddenly felt uncomfortable.

'Damn it! Did I overdo it?'

Gaining the interest of a witch was perhaps one of the most troublesome fates ever.

"Richard Band. You truly are an interesting one."

Richard felt his heart sink. His smile vanished.

"You know who I am."

Maribel smiled,

"Being part of an influential family does have its downsides. It means there are always eyes on you."

Richard sighed internally.

"I'll accept your offer on the condition that you patronize me regularly." Maribel finally said.

Richard paused for a moment, not sure if the deal was worth pursuing anymore.

It was very clear he had piqued the witch's interest.

That was dangerous.

Still, he felt like he didn't have a say in the matter anymore.

He glanced at Leon, hoping to see a lifeline.

He was instead met with the sight of Leon staring at the opposite wall.

'That nail cannot be that interesting.'

He sighed as he stretched his arm forward,

"Nice doing business with you."