With every step I took down the crowded main boulevard etching parallel to the Tavern beyond my line of sight, that semblance of terror continued to fluster and grow. Walking hurriedly past groups of undisturbed onlookers, holding myself tight as I did so, all I could bring myself to think upon was the fear he supplanted within me just through words alone.
Questions like, 'Who was he', or 'How was such a thing possible', floated between thoughts in my racing mind, all of them quickly discarded by the next. My breath had run ragged, casting plumes of vapor into the air around me even with the heat of the afternoon sun still high in the sky. The Chroma that was sequestered in my body, now as much a part of me as the bones and organs that situated besides, fractalized my emotions into physical distress.
Curiosity burned just as bright as the fear that racked every fiber of my being. I could only imagine it. The ability to rend such a premonition on another sentient being through just words alone. What a boon that would be. No one could stop me. Never again.
And if I were to learn anything, I'd need to return to the Tavern. Where that imperious Man waited. The thought sent cold shivers racing down my back. No. It was impossible. This wasn't just an instinctual premonition. It was like something burrowed deep inside me, crawling deeper the more I pondered upon the terror he instigated.
Feeling cornered between two monstrous forces, I took the route that seemed easiest to me in the moment. The one I had set out to achieve since this morning. Although I was more lost than when I had started. All because of that Golden-eyed man I hadn't even bothered to learn the name of.
His poignant appearance aside, his words had indeed left a mark on me. Even without any intention of doing so, he had somehow ascertained what I had planned on doing. As a result, I felt used, or rather, completely seen through. Yes. I had become naked before him, my most hidden scruples showcased on full display.
Being appreciative of the time we spent together wouldn't bring my Mother back. Nor would it cast away the pain I from her absence. Nothing would, except the eradication of feeling in it's entirety.
With that dark cynicism taking root inside my psyche, the eyes that passively ran over me, the figures of disparate passerby floating through the Main channel of Avery Street seemed to loom large with a hidden disgust. I felt as if they too could see through me. Holding myself tighter, I forced my eyes downwards at the rough-hewn stone surface that the street was crafted out of.
I wish they all would just disappear. I wanted so badly to be gone with the fear, the vulnerability of being seen. However, wandering aimlessly wouldn't solve anything. I knew that. But it was all I could do. Hope that something or someone would come along to offer a quietude I longed for.
The Figment of that Man played itself in my mind, the fear that came with his appearance, the gravity of his eminence. A death at the hands of someone akin to that level would be swift, albeit painful. Even in my rudimentary understanding of the Power, I could feel it still.
If I was a tadpole in a sequestered pond, then he was the Whale that stalked the ever-expansive oceans.
To be consumed by something like that would be all-encompassing and complete. No chance for second thoughts, no chance for idle hopes. That would be my path, it seemed.
So, with an energy that surprised myself, I turned hard at the heel of my loafers, scuffing them against the hard ground as I did so.
Even if his intent hadn't been to kill, I would make it so. Draw it out of him with underhanded measures and childish words.
Towards the Tavern I went, my arms shivering against my sides as I did so.
~
"Argus, you seem a little shaken. Everything alright?"
The words came from a man twice the recipients size in terms of girth, his bloated center held taught by a dirtied apron seen too much use over the course of the busy afternoon.
Rubbing his temple in barely hidden angst, Argus turned towards the Man, giving a haphazard grin as he spoke.
"Nothing to worry over, Doran. Seems reaching out in this day and age is too much for some." Groping his flaccid hair to the side, he returned his attention to a spritely woman who had been enamored by the Man's arterial beauty, sitting idly on the barstool on the service side of the counter as she did so.
"If you're not gonna tell him, why not me? My friends say I'm a good listener." Her words were tinged with an obvious undertone of seductiveness, the glass now refilled in her hands coaxed with a soft grasp that played with the hem of the mug as she eyed him expectantly.
"Trust me, miss. You'll enjoy your day and your drink much more if I don't partake. However, I have plenty other stories I can share." Argus' hallmark golden eyes flashed with an air of playfulness, to which the woman sighed amorously. Women like these were smooth pickings, affably willing to let go of a few Gon extra if it meant the chance of being attended to by him.
Before he could respond in kind, leading her on for the sake of great reward, a particularly grave commotion arose from deeper inside the Tavern. The Group of well-dressed men he had taken particular notice of were surrounding a sole individual, undisclosed confusion in their eyes as the tallest of them spoke loud enough for Argus to hear at the opposite end of the space.
"And what says we won't divulge our end? I'm sure the Modula would be keen on adding an Arbiter to their midst." His freshly shaven face curved upwards under the expression of his ruminant smile, filled to the brim with confidence. It made Argus reflexively turn towards them as he prepared to cast them off with a quick shout if their struggle led anywhere past words. The Woman he was tending to noticed his gaze, following it towards the group as she watched just as pensively.
"Sure. Go ahead. I'd love to see them try. Never worked in past, mind you, but I'm always willing to give them a second go at it." The one they had cornered remained seated on the high back chair all the other booths were paired with, his attention fixated on a fleck of grime stuck underneath one of his nails.
"You have no decorum, Galan. How far you have fallen to be left wandering the Plains with nary a scent of Artificing on you." The supposed leader of the opposite group responded to his target's lazy posturing. Artificing. The moment he spoke that word, those close enough to hear, meaning the entire Tavern by that point, shuddered their own conversations and drinking to listen, faces filled with recognition and unhindered wrath.
The environment now decayed to utter silence, tension balancing the space on a knife's edge, the Man who uttered such a sacrilegious word took apparent notice, easing off of his pursuit as he stood from the seat he was once so proudly poised against.
"Apologies, friends. A slip of the tongue is all, I assure you. As way of heartfelt apology, allow your next drink to be paid by me and mine." Holding his own drink aloft as he spoke, the ambience funneled into abject applause, those with empty glasses hoisting them in a similar manner to the Man. Commotion continued to rule once again, not a one bothering to acquiesce the Man's haunting phrase.
Their words were hushed now, barely a whisper amidst the volume perforated amidst the revelry that had now commenced after drinks were served by markedly dressed chambermaids that clambered through the procession of rowdy customers burgeoned by free spirit. Argus and Doran shared a questioning glance with each other before setting off on their own split duties, each vying for a larger share of their client's wallet.
"I'm surprised you let them in here. They won't stop at just words before long." The Woman Argus was beginning to lose hope in said, her teaseled auburn hair hiding the expression she wore as her attention still lingered on the foreign group of men in the far off corner.
"Doesn't matter if they've horns or not. As long as their money's silver and their wallets full, I could care less." Argus retorted, still keeping a sliver of attention towards them as he did so. Prejudice without action was just sophistry, and this woman seemed a poet.
Turning back around, the Woman gave him a burning look, one markedly different from the one they had just shared moments prior.
"I'm telling you. Something's off about them. Livery or not, they're trouble. Call it a women's intuition if you want, but I can tell." She took a meaningful swig of her drink, a particularly strong brew even by Argus' fair, causing him to consider what intuition she had been referring to.
"You're overthinking, miss. What trouble can one even find in a town like ours?" Argus mentioned, his tone attempting to pacify the Woman who grew more and more heated as she drank.
"They're bad, all of them. You don't keep up with what the Soliets say, do you? Just the other day, tell of a village burning down in Alista came about through them. Every finger pointed at the Imperators." Her words were hurried, speech slurring as the drink overcame her rational thinking. It was amusing to Argus, considering it was only the second one she had up until that point.
He didn't bother to reply, sunk deep in thought as the rambling Woman stole furious glances aimed towards the Group behind her with every mouthful of liquor she partook in. Who's to say the burning of Alista was Imperator handiwork? It didn't involve him, anyhow, and as a proclamation to himself he swore not to idle in unnecessary fixations.
Argus had a Daughter to worry about. A Beautiful one at that, which came with it's own share of trepidations. His hands were full to the brim with what he had already latched onto. And yet, the visage of that scarred boy left an imprint in his mind.
The eyes were the gateway to the soul, and in Yovin's case, his soul was muddy indeed. All it took was a glance and Argus could tell. Having dealt with his own darkness, he wondered if he did the right thing not going after the boy.
Placatingly, Argus told himself that the only surefire destination he would find would be one found on his own. It was the same for himself. Only hope and an inkling of a feeling led him to believe the same for Yovin.
As he sat in prolonged thought, his drunken mark still ruminating on the presence of liveries in a, for all intents and purposes, free city, the pine-wood doors of the Tavern swung deliberately open. A common occurrence, one that normally wouldn't draw his attention, stooped in the glass of a dirtied mug as he was.
However, the newly emerged individual intrigued him greatly.
Standing in the threshold, scanning the room with pensive emerald eyes, the boy let the door close lazily behind him. His Cardigan had been tightly fixated to his chest, hiding his previously exposed bandages. No one bothered a glance in his direction, the soiree of the rapidly approaching night bringing with it even more raucous clientele.
Giving him a measured glance, the Woman situated before Argus muttered slightly, soft enough not to be heard even by the Man mere inches away from her, before turning around to face him.
"Are you fine with letting kids in?" She asked, her enclosed fist holding the left side of her drooped chin up as she exerted ambiguously.
"Not particularly. But this one is a special case." Besides himself, Argus found his lips beginning to curve into a slight smile. It seemed his hopes had bore to fruition.
Standing directly besides the table hosting the group of Livery interlopers, their conversation halted amidst the newcomer's presence, Argus's hopes dropped considerably. Those besides them took notice of the rising tension forming within the silent child's figure.
That same tension grew from the group he situated himself in front of, their faces cold and leaden under the expression Yovin held, hidden from Argus' sight. He gave Dolan an intentional glance, to which he responded by reaching towards the alcove hidden under the counter he worked amicably upon just moments prior.
Straining his ears against the commotion that seemed to do all it could to obfuscate the sudden turn of events, Argus leaned forward, nearly level with the woman's downcast face.
"Can I help you, kid?" The tallest of the group, face strewn tight against sharp jawline and facial structure, regarded passively. It seemed Yovin's attention was solely on him besides.
"Yes sir, you can. I've been having a problem I can't solve. And you seem the type to offer solutions." Yovin's words etched suggestively along a dark line, one Argus had tangled with in his youth just the same. Praying for the Guard's swift approach, he hoped his intervention wouldn't be the least bit necessary.
"Well, as the old saying goes, money talks. So let loose your coin." The imperious man offered, earning sideways glances from the similarly dressed individuals he sat with. No one spoke against him, either from obeisance or simple lack of necessity. They placed a great trust on this person, Argus noticed.
Instead of offering a sliver of Gon, Argus unsurprisingly noticed, Yovin reached into the right side pocket of his dirty brown slacks, fishing around for some inconsequential item that seemed lodged irritatingly in the hem of an inward seam.
Seeing his tribulation, those around the Man chuckled slightly, some taking large sips of their drinks as they elicited passive quips against each other. The tension was all but obliterated by this point, the only one offering their attention being the target of Yovin's earnestness.
"You've not even a Shen to your name, boy? You're as daft as the horns you wear." Galan, his name returning to Argus's mind as soon as he put the expression to a face, turned his back towards the boy, seemingly finished with their one-sided diatribe.
"No sir. I'm quite clear of mind, in fact. Clearer than I've been in a while."
As he spoke, Yovin pulled his clenched fist from within his rightward pocket, feeling the hidden object in his hand as his index finger pulled back against it. Suddenly the group took notice, their faces drawn back in surprise and sobriety.
In an instant, the small item Yovin had played with shot outwards, directly towards Galan, sending a loud crack in the air, boisterous enough to send crackles of invisible wind pursing the curtains that held the midday sun aloft in front of scattered windows. And in that same breath, a loud clap followed close behind, Galan caught the object before it could make mincemeat of the crown of his forehead.
The entire Tavern, shook clear by the sudden invocation, turned towards the source. Doran, to Argus's right, quietly pleading for the Garrison to arrive with taut eyes, shared a disturbed look with Argus.
They couldn't arrive soon enough.
Moments passed, held in tension as Galan ruminated on the object he held in his hand, holding it above him as to catch the light against it as he examined it. A single Shen, it's silver edges catching the candlelight on it's surface as he turned it with stalwart fingers.
"Even in such a backwater shithole..." As if to cast away the silence that overtook the space they occupied, Galan stood, showcasing his immensurable height as he did so. Easily towering at least a foot above the boy he now passively glanced downwards at, the words he spoke next shocked his compatriots more than Argus or the others.
"it seems I've a few surprises left in store after all."