Chapter 6 - Fledgling

A whole week had limped by since I got myself into Korvar, the days successfully blending into a dull routine, just like my old life... pathetic. I spent most of the days wandering the city's streets, continuing to map outside alleys and shortcuts in my head, and occasionally checking the Guild's notice board for jobs that wouldn't require leaving Korvar. A few times, I thought about picking up a quest, like the lost cat or the vermin extermination gig, but each time, I hesitated. What if they try to pin something else on me if I fail or even succeed too quickly? Or... I was just afraid. That could have been too...

The Guild had me under watch, but they weren't hovering over my shoulder every minute of the day. I could sense it, though. A few too many guards seemed to be aware of where I was at all times, or a Guild scout would be loitering near a corner whenever I appeared. It wasn't a direct threat, more like a constant reminder that I was a suspect. And I hated it.

Finally, after that long week, they came to find me again. Two adventurers wearing the Guild's emblem on their cloaks intercepted me as I left a small eatery in the Artisan Quarter.

"Auriel," one of them said briskly. "Guildmaster Reagan wants to see you."

Nothing in their tone suggested I had a choice, so I followed them back to the Guild Hall. We took a side corridor into the same meeting room where I'd first been questioned, a broad wooden table at its center. Waiting for me, the Guildmaster himself once again was there, hands folded on the table, flanked by a couple of other senior-looking adventurers. Grim.

"Take a seat," Reagan said, his voice authoritative, like that of a judge's. I complied without speaking, taking a spot opposite him. My heart was already in overdrive. I was annoyed that I still felt intimidated around these people, so I told myself I shouldn't be. At least, I was determined not to show it.

"We've done part of our investigation. It is still ongoing, including a scouting party sent to where the caravan was supposed to pass and to other routes you could have taken. But we have a preliminary idea of what happened." He paused, glancing at a stack of notes. "We also found what's left of the wagons that were not at the initial spot. Of course, they were also looted. Torched, in part. And... more bodies. Enough to confirm the fate of the caravan."

A pang hit my chest, but I kept my face neutral. So they really are gone… I guess the feeling came from my second self.

"We're piecing together signs that point toward two bandit groups who operate in that area," said one of the other senior adventurers, a middle-aged woman with a scar across her cheek. "Hard to say which one hit the caravan—both have been unusually active recently. The one is more direct, hitting any traveler for goods and ransom. The other is rumored to be led by an ex-mercenary, pulling off more precise strikes, going for valuable items."

"And," Reagan held my gaze, drawing my attention. "At first, we considered the possibility that you were simply lucky to survive. Now we're re-evaluating that.

"Excuse me?" I finally spoke up, but the man continued, ignoring me.

"Some evidence suggests the ambush was… orchestrated. Possibly with an informant who fed details about the caravan's route and timing."

"Hold on," I said, bracing my hands on the table. "I told you everything I know. That insider was part of the caravan, not me. He turned on us."

"We've heard your account, yes," Reagan continued. "But the entire scenario is suspicious. Your lack of injuries, your uncertain timeline, your convenient reappearance in Korvar. We can't ignore the possibility that you served as the mole—guiding bandits from the inside."

"What? And I came to THIS city after? Because I'm retarded?!" Anger flared in my chest. "You think I orchestrated the caravan's slaughter? For what? A handful of coins? Then waltzed into your arms?! Where is my money then?!"

"Pipe down, kid!" The woman with the scar pursed her lips, sneering at me. "No one's accusing you formally… not yet. But the rumor stands! If you had a stake in that cargo, then vanished once things turned bloody, it might explain why you alone survived."

I forced down a retort, only heaving like a furnace ready to blow. No formal accusation, but you're sure treating me like a criminal. My nails bit into my palms, the memory of that fight flickering behind my eyelids as if watching a movie scene. Caravaners screaming, bandits closing in… I was as much a victim as anyone. Well... Auriel was.

"Listen," Reagan sighed, sliding a thin folder across the table. "For now, we're not arresting you. We don't have concrete proof linking you to the ambush. But you remain confined to Korvar. The city watch and the Guild's scouts will be keeping an eye out for you. If there's any sign you try to skip town before we close this case, we'll bring you in and hold you for questioning."

"..." My stomach twisted into knots, looking at the folder, not even reaching for it. "So… I'm stuck here indefinitely?"

"Yes." He gave a tight nod. "Until we learn more."

That was that. They dismissed me, and I marched out, rage simmering under my skin. I'd been hoping that after a week, they'd accept I had nothing to do with the ambush. Instead, they'd doubled down. Now, I was trapped. Handled as a suspicious individual. Also broke as a nail. The combination of my new fate resembling my old one gnawed at me.

By the time I left the Guild Hall, my blood still boiled just the same. A few passersby glanced my way, probably wondering about the murderous scowl on my face while I felt the corners of my mouth twitch in frustration. There's no way I'm just waiting around for them to eventually pin some nonsense on me.

My feet carried me to the shabbier part of town without conscious thought, down winding backstreets and crooked roads. I remembered the path from last time, weaving through narrow alleys until I found a battered door leading into a dimly lit cellar. Part of me was tense... Would they even welcome me?

I stepped inside. And it was empty. Nothing remained there. I remembered the place, this was it... but they were gone. Thinking about it, it was logical. They brought someone in, someone who could be another mole. I couldn't blame them for it, only myself for my stupidity. Well, my excuse was that I was too angry to remember they also told me where to find them.

With a quick turn, I left, heading to the given address that wasn't so far away, in a two-story building with boarded windows. I stood nervously before its rusty, metal door before knocking. There was no answer, but I could hear that someone was on the other side, so I spoke up.

"It's me, Auriel. I was... I was told by Cravik where to come for help."

When I finished, the door opened, and I was let in. The hushed murmur of voices inside the room died down the moment they shut the door behind me while lanterns revealed the same old crates, the tables with scattered notes and vials of potions stacked in them, ready to be transported. Risa and Cravik were both present, deep in conversation with a few other gang members, probably discussing how they were going to smuggle them to their destination. They all paused to glance my way when I was finally in.

"Kid," Cravik greeted, raising an eyebrow. "I had a feeling we'd see you again."

"I told you." I inclined my head. "If you're still open to... business, I want to talk."

"We are," Risa smirked, stepping forward. "Trouble with the Guild, I take it? Or maybe you just realized there's more coin to be made outside official channels?"

"Both," I muttered, then exhaled. "They're locking me down. Treating me like a suspect. I can't leave Korvar, and I can't make decent money. Not legally, anyway."

"Ah, I see. Well, as I said that day, we help wrongfully accused individuals!" Cravik chuckled, exchanging a knowing look with Risa. "Well, that's how the Guild usually does it. They lock you in a cage, watch you starve, and see if you squeal."

"I'm not squealing," I said flatly. "I need a way forward. I need coin, and I need… freedom. I figured you might have something that fits."

"Hm, hm." Risa studied me for a moment, then gestured to a corner table. "Sit, Auriel. Let's see what we can do for each other."

Nodding my head, I sank into a creaky chair, noticing how my heart still pounded, but this time, it was doing it out of anticipation.

"Fine," I said, meeting her gaze. "I'm listening."

The others, curious about our discussion, gathered around like it was the finest show they had a chance to watch. Over the next few minutes, the conversation laid out options for me. Jobs that wouldn't require leaving the city could skirt around the Guild's oversight. A bit of smuggling here, discreet guard work there, maybe roughing up a few troublemakers who owed the Crowfoot Gang debts. Risky, yes, but it beat rotting in a tavern room with no future and out of coin, waiting for someone to put me into cuffs and throw me into jail. If it happened after I joined them, at least they would have a valid reason to do so.

"We're not asking you to kill innocents or anything." Cravik's voice was patient but firm. "That is bad for business. But you'll need to keep your mouth shut about any arrangement between us. If the Guild sniffs out we're working together, we'll all be in hot water."

"We are not about that. We would drop you, just so you know." 

"I understand."

"Good." Risa smiled as she nudged a small crate of potions. "And if you need a boost on a job—well, we've got the product. Not all of it's contraband, but enough of it would raise eyebrows among the guards. You keep that on the down-low, and we'll keep you afloat."

I nodded slowly, the knot in my gut easing a little. It wasn't the path I'd have chosen in my old life, but that life was gone anyway. If the Guild wants to see me as a suspect… I might as well find new allies where I can.

"Hah! Great!" Cravik held out a gloved hand, his grin returning. "Welcome to a bigger world, Auriel. Don't worry; there's actual honor among us crows, so long as you remember where your loyalty lies."

The hush in the cellar pressed in on me. I felt that I may have done something out of spite of my old life by joining a criminal ring, but I had also run out of good alternatives. Steeling my nerves, I reached out and clasped Cravik's hand, smiling at him.

"Guess I'm in," I said, voice steady. "At least until the Guild decides to get me because then I'll need to disappear."

"Don't worry about that!" The gangsters exchanged approving nods, and Risa let out a satisfied chuckle. "When you prove to be a good fledgling, we will do that for you. They won't even know you existed!"

A wry smile tugged at my lips, hearing her words. So be it. If the crows gave me a place to spread my wings, that might be worth the risk. It's better than being a chicken waiting to be made into soup.