Soothsayer of Pontis 2
Avery would never have warned Mana about a soothsayer of questionable intent. Especially with the wish for her to actually heed the cautions. If anything else, it would have motivated her to seek him out. Avery knew her all too well, and Mana had to smile at the fact that the boy knew such effective ways to keep her away from unnecessary 'trouble'.
She wasn't the superstitious type, but if someone with the convincing ability to predict future events did exist in the city, Mana had a lot of use for such a talent at this time. If he was false, like the majority of his type, nothing would be gained from the encounter--but nothing would be lost. To her, it made sense to poke her nose in, at the very least. Mana made sure to take care of a few menial tasks in the building first, before leaving in no particular hurry.
There was never a time when the air in the city didn't smell strongly of salt water, and rarely was there no wind to carry it. This particular day was no exception. The sun beat down against the stone roadways of the inner city, and a few large, buoyant clouds floated steadily through the blue void of sky. The foot traffic in the streets carried on at an equally steady pace. These parts built around the Citadel at the center of the city was made primarily up of aristocrats; the upper middle class population. The people here had very few worries, and even less tangible troubles.
However, as Mana strolled past the smiles and the general feelings of well being, after a while the surrounding landscape began to humble itself. The area she was headed towards was the area which the back walls of the citadel faced. She continued on, through the lower class district before reaching the limits of Pontis' bridge. She strolled along the edge until she found a dubious ladder constructed of dried bamboo leading down the outer edge of the bridge. Carefully, she lowered herself down it without so much as a second thought.
When the people spoke of the slums making up the 'underbelly' of the city, they meant it in a very literal sense. The ladder lead to a rickety wooden floor, held up by bamboo scaffolding. Nothing hid the fact that the wood was rotting from the constant moisture brought in by the water which crashed loudly several feet below. The planks lead underneath the bridge, into the slums. The entire community here had carved their neighborhood into the stone underbelly of Pontis. This way, the unstable, tiered scaffolding that held up the shanty makeshift homes was protected by a solid roof and walls they had created for themselves-at the risk of compromising the bridge's stability.
Mana normally avoided this shady area, only entering upon official duties of having to evict members from the underbelly, and seeing to the bridge's reconstruction where the evicted denizens had previously resided. Naturally, she was not a favorite of the people here.
She crept her way up further into the bridge's infrastructure, past impoverished houses and weary stares. She didn't know where the soothsayer lived, or what he looked like-and she didn't see a single person who looked open to receiving a question from her. She tried not to foster her swelling feeling of frustration.
“You lost, sweetheart?” a man's voice called from her side.
Mana turned to acknowledge him, and quickly put up her defenses at the sight of the man's confrontational body language, “I'm not, don't worry about it.” she stood up straight and wore confidence.
The man shoved his hands into the pockets of his dirty pants and offered a predatory smile, “well, you don't look like you belong here. I mean, why would you wear a pretty dress like that in a dirty place like this-don't make sense, Ma'am.”
Mana had hoped that the stranger would stay in his spot, but her annoyance increased with every step he took towards her. She felt the hushed stares of surrounding people peering in on the situation with gathering fascination. She wasn't frightened for herself, but if this resulted in a physical confrontation, the results would be bad for everyone.
“How much that dress cost, anyways, Ma'am? You stand out so vibrantly with it.”
Mana had begun to take a step back for every step forward he took, “I'd rather you not come any closer.”
He stopped, “Oh Miss, I don't mean to frighten you. But isn't that what an aristocrat like you comes here for? To be scared by the animals who reside here?”
They stared at each other silently for a moment before the man took a sudden, violent lunge forward. With an immediate flutter of her heart, Mana dashed back and before her hand could wrap around the hilt of her sword, she was forcefully dragged back even further, out of the immediate reach of her offender.
“Lets not make a spectacle,” the new voice was quiet, calm, and male.
Startled, Mana quickly worked to recollect herself, “lets-lets not.”
The offender's disposition transformed almost instantly into a much less hostile one, “now, I was just trying to give her a good story to tell to her friends when she returned. What are you doing outside, anyways? Getting your annual breath of fresh air?”
The other man only stared back humorlessly and the offender smiled in response awkwardly before dismissing himself cooperatively from the scene.
Once the perpetrator was no longer a threat, Mana looked back to see the man's unenthusiastic stare was now set upon her.
“What do you want, Swan?” He asked, dully.
He was an ecliptic looking man, wearing more articles of jewelry than Mana ever even owned-predominantly sinew necklaces with large pendants which clattered against each other. His short, but shaggy brown mane fell in sloppy, loose, wavy locks over his forehead, just above hazel, undiscerning eyes. Showing through those locks of hair was a burn scar sharing resemblance to gnarled bark which spanned across his forehead and down the left side of his face. He was maybe an inch or two taller than she. While Mana was tall for a woman, he was short for a man. His features were as masculine as his posture was-imposing.
Mana straightened her posture to match his, “I'm looking for a soothsayer-”
His frown deepened, “then you're looking for me.” With a snort that sounded more like an annoyed sigh, he turned and gestured Mana to follow, “we'll talk inside.”
She followed him up wordlessly to a small shack so heavily draped in curtains that it was impossible to tell what held them up underneath. Mana stared at the structure quizzically as the soothsayer disappeared into it. She didn't waste too much time before following him in.
The smoke hit her like a wall. It was so thick in the small hut that it was impossible to see anything further than half a meter. It stung her eyes, and made breathing a terrible chore; choking her with every attempt to inhale the dense, white air. Only candles lit the place, and the smell of incense was so strong that it could almost negate every other sense she had. The floor was littered with thick, richly colored rugs and decorative pillows-and if it weren't for all the smoke, the place would feel rather warm and comfortable.
The soothsayer took his seat at the back of the hut, taking up a thin, lengthy, elegantly colored pipe and proceeding to light it.
“Tell me what you want, then,” he demanded before inhaling from the pipe and allowing the smoke to seep through his nose.
Mana allowed herself to take a seat on the soft ground across from him, “I need you to look into my past and tell me what you see. Something that no one but myself would know.”
He furrowed his brow and looked up at her sardonically, knowing full well this was a skeptic's challenge, before proceeding to carry out her order. He took another long drag from his pipe and exhaled the smoke, watching it swirl and dissipate before him.
There was a long minute or so of silence, where no eye contact was made and neither of them moved. Mana couldn't see anything but the thick smoke that promised to decimate a year of health from her lungs. Her cynicism increased with every passing second.
Finally, he sat up to raise his eyebrows at her, “I could tell you something that's humiliating for me to know-or I could tell you something that's a little more dignified. Your pick.”
Mana frowned, “the latter, if you'll please.”
The soothsayer shrugged at her, “when you were responsible for military affairs, you had in mind to make a man akin to a lion as your successor. You had it all set up, and figured he might have done an even better job than yourself. Of course, it didn't work out.”
Her brow twitched, impressed-and she quizzed further, “what's his relationship to me?”
The corners of the man's mouth jumped in annoyance, “a proclaimed son. Are you going to make me recite how you acquired him?”
Maintaining her posture, Mana replied, “forget about it,” she detached a satchel from her belt and tossed it to him, “I'd rather waste no time with hiring you.”
The soothsayer opened the satchel to find countless gold coins.
“Soothe for me as my personal seer, and I can promise you more currency than you know what to do with,” Mana proposed.
He pulled out a coin and looked at it with a furrowed brow, “and what do you suppose I'm going to do with gold?”
“Ah-” Thrown off guard by his unmoved response, she found herself grasping for an appropriate reply, “it's not an offer that sways you?”
“No,” he answered simply.
Mana frowned and stared at him for a moment longer, “alright, then you tell me, what would sell you?”
He didn't respond, but simply stared back at her with his pipe sitting idly between his lips and his eyes glowering at her.
“Alright,” Mana stubbornly stood up and paced once, “well, how do you like it here in the slums? How's the company?”
No response, not even a quirked eyebrow from him.
Mana swallowed down her annoyance, “you probably get a lot of people coming in asking you to read into things,” She thought about it for a moment, “like, where the city's going next-and when they'll finally get to go home. Is that something you get often?”
His eyes followed her with annoyance that rivaled her own, “how about you go away now, Swan.”
“You're not a people person, are you, soothsayer.” She stopped and waited for his answer-and upon receiving none, purposed, “How about I give you a location-where no one can come in and bother you unless you want them to?”
He allowed himself to blink and turn his stare away from her thoughtfully before looking back to her, “say more.”
Mana beamed at his reply warmly, “I could give you a room in the citadel, in my tower. The only person with a key to that room would be you-and myself. You can seclude yourself all you want, from everyone. I only ask that you tell me answers to the questions I offer. You'd not be obliged to do so for anyone else.”
He removed the pipe from his mouth and leaned back with a deep breath, “see, how can I refuse?” there was more to that reply that he wasn't saying, but despite the cynicism in his tone, essentially, he meant it.
The tension that had accumulated in Mana's posture disappear with a quiet, relieved sigh, “Good. Great. Sold. Now, what name do I call you by?”
“Wesley,” he replied put down his pipe conclusively, “when will you be needing my services, then?”
“Immediately,” she answered with no pause.
hurp-derp. One of those days I just smash my fingers on the keyboard haplessly in hopes to make writing!!