[BANG] [BANG] [BANG]
"Open up! By order of the Baron, open up!"
I was drowsy when I went to the door; my wife was still asleep. A knight of the keep waited right outside, standing under the pouring rain as if unbothered.
"All citi-zeeens must gather on the keep for the ceremony of cleansing at once! The assassin responsible for the disappearances of our people was found and will be execu-teeeed!"
Still rubbing my eyes and yawning, I answered.
"Are you sure, officer? I imagine the esteemed Baron could find a better time than the middle of the night in a storm for an execution."
He just stared at me with weirdly milky eyes. Since when were they hiring blind guards?
Then he snapped into a combat stance with his halberd, pointing it at me and screaming.
"Are you going to resist, citi-zeeen?!" He spoke in an odd, clipped way. The phrase sounded like a question but landed like a demand; his pronunciation was just off.
I knew something was wrong. My gut said he was completely insane. But remembering my wife was still asleep, I decided to comply. He would forget her.
"Not at all, sir. Lead the way." The guard took a good five seconds to process my words, halberd poised for a strike. Then suddenly he lowered it, turned toward the keep, and began marching, almost like a puppet.
It would have been comical if not for the alarms blaring in my head. Before leaving I grabbed my trusty knife from where I hid it by the door and tucked it into the back of my pants under my shirt.
On the streets, many more people were being led by guards, all of them puppet-like. I wasn't the only one who noticed the strangeness of it all, but unfortunately for the others I was the only one who had brought a weapon.
The rain was heavy; my sleeping clothes soaked in an instant. 'I should have grabbed my coat.'
We made our way up the ramp to the fortress, the centurion guards with their long black bows watching us like crows watching sheep march to the slaughter.
Then we reached the main patio. The Baron stood there sided by the prophet. The witches were fastening a man to an apparatus at the center of a raised stage.
The Baron was fully clad in black armor engraved with countless runes forming a gaping beast's maw on the breastplate. At the very center of his chest a transparent crystal glistened in the rain; it looked as if a beast had tried to swallow the crystal and been cursed into becoming part of the armor.
The Baron looked... different. What was most striking was his stature. He had once been of normal height, around two meters (about 6'5"), but now towered over three meters (over 9') and carried a black tower shield that surpassed his height when rested on the ground.
I only knew it was him because he wasn't wearing a helmet. It was the same face of the man who had once challenged the regional lord for the title of Count and won. Only to trade the title back later for supplies so the city wouldn't starve. He had once been warm and amiable. Now he looked cold. Dark, sneaking veins threaded through his eyes.
He didn't move his head as the crowd came in. Like a large statue, he simply stood there.
Then, before we even knew what was to happen, the man on the stage started to scream.
ººº
He snapped out of it, as if he got to a point of the story that gave him so much whiplash he couldn't stomach even thinking about. Then he looked back at me.
"That night I saw them turn the people into those things... That is your answer. They were people, once. But then, they caught the madness. It was all caused by the baron, the prophet and his witches." He almost spat when referring to them now.
"Most of the people wander the streets as pilgrims, husks of skin and bone, not much stronger than even you. But some, those that already had a core and a body at the second stage, become something else. Something much, much more vile."
He walked back and away from me, sitting against one of the walls of the attic. He almost seemed done talking.
"In the end, the prophet and the witches left, no doubt to spread the madness even further. And abandoned the fortress like this. Insidious fellows, those prophets. They take down entire kingdoms with promises. Much more dangerous than any army, I tell you."
"And... What happened after?" He looked at me for a terse moment, without saying anything.
"You came here for the water, right? That was smart, if a bit naïve. There's a tap on the tank, you know how to use those, right? You can drink; it's safe. I'm hit with an awful mood all of sudden." He picked up a bottle of... some nondescript liquor, and started sipping it. Avoiding my question completely.
That was a weird change, he seemed the kind to talk nonstop, but suddenly went all gloomy. It must be terrible, seeing your people turned into that...
I hobbled to the copper tank, under the watchful gaze of the now depressed man. I filled my water bottle, drank greedily, and topped it up again.
Making my way back to my corner, I looked at the glowing talisman. It was faint, and its light was slowly diminishing.
"You called this a trade ritual. What do you mean by that?"
"It's the small gesture I made. I sacrificed a silver coin to the God of Trade using this talisman. That allows people who can't understand each other to engage in trade. Trade of information or goods." He answered, seemingly glad to change topics.
"God of Trade? You mean, like, an actual God?"
He looked at me like I asked the stupidest question.
"Of course an actual God, what, you're gonna tell me your people didn't have gods back where you lived?"
'He just said gods. There isn't only one, but several. Oh God... Gods... I don't even know anymore.'
"Wait, wait, wait... That thing you just did with the talisman, is that magic?!"
He tilted his head again.
"You didn't huh. Interesting. The answer to your question is yes and no. It was a ritual, it works because a God attached to it decided the sacrifice I made was worthy. It's a form of magic, but not the common definition of it. Magic is usually much more... showy."
"Can you show it to me? Some magic?" I probably sounded overexcited, but I could barely contain myself.
Suppressing a laugh, the man turned back to the bottle. "Maybe tomorrow; it's still the middle of the night, you know." He shook his head and muttered under his breath. His mood did seem a bit better, however.
'A world of magic and gods...' I tried to suppress my excitement.
'I'm such a child. I'm still almost dying, get over that first, you fool.' And yet I couldn't help but grin.
'Magic, huh?'
I ate my candy bar under the owl man's curious gaze.
"Hey, do you have a name?" I asked.
"Hmmm. You probably wouldn't understand it even if I said it. It likely has no equivalent in your tongue for the amulet to translate. Why don't you give me one?"
'So that's how it works, huh? It takes his language and translates it into mine in real time…'
"I guess we can do that. You do the same for me?" He nodded.
I didn't have to think much, honestly. I had already been mentally calling him that by now. His large eyes, the hooked nose, even the long arms kind of reminded me of wings.
"The name I chose for you is Owl. It's the name of a bird from where I come. It's usually associated with knowledge and wisdom."
"Oooh, I like it. It sounds mysterious and cool, much like me! You have great taste for names, I must say."
"Thank you. Did you think of one for me?"
He started making a face as if concentrating hard. He rubbed his chin like a detective before one of the hardest cases of his life. Then he turned to me with the look of someone who had just had a stroke of genius.
"I do now!"
"Great! What is it?"
"The name I chose for you is..."
"Boy!"