Chapter 1 — Scramble
“What’s your business in the Noble District?” The guardsman asked, eyeing Ren’s tattered tunic and rough boots with open disdain.
Tucking his scarf, Ren huffed slightly as he undid the drawstring of his pouch and pulled out a slip. “I have a delivery due for one Vargo Cromwell.”
“Give me that.” The guard snatched it before seemingly scrutinizing every detail. “Maning, confirm this slip.” He handed it over to his fellow guardsman without letting Ren leave his sight, as if he’d run.
What an ass, Ren thought as they both waited in tense silence until Maning returned.
“You’re slow, Maning.” The guard complained, crossing his arms as Maning walked back up to his post.
“Sod off, Henson.” Maning shot back, handing him the slip. “It’s legitimate. Lord Cromwell’s men confirmed so in person.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Henson turned to Ren. “Go on. Just don’t mingle with the people who belong here.”
Ren stared at the guard expectantly before raising an eyebrow. The guard quickly grew impatient. “Well? Stop making me wait. Go.”
Ren frowned. “I need my slip.”
“Huh? You’re making a demand of me?” Henson scowled at the mere thought of a lowborn demanding something irritating him.
Ren shook his head. “No,”—he held out his hand—”You never returned my slip. Give it back.”
Henson clenched his halberd and gritted his teeth at the sheer audacity of the lowborn in front of him. “I must not have heard you correctly,”—He placed a finger on Ren’s forehead—“because I heard quite a bit of attitude from you, lowborn.”
Maning sighed as he massaged his temples. “For Gaia’s sake, just give it back.”
Henson’s glare was quickly turned towards Maning as the man in question sighed. “Henson, it’s not worth our time. The lowborn probably just needs it to earn their meager wages.”
Ren appreciatively nodded before affirming Maning’s deduction, “That’s right, I need-”
“Shut up, filth.” Maning cut off Ren, souring the interaction. “Just give it, Henson.”
“Fine.” Henson threw the slip into the air, letting it get caught by the wind. “There. Fetch.”
“You-” Ren bit his tongue, suppressing his frustration externally. Bastard, he finished in his head before chasing after the fluttering slip into the noble district.
Ren cursed as the slip danced on the wind, pursuing it like his life depended on it. It might as well have been—he was almost out of coin again, after all.
It was just barely out of reach as Ren leaped to grab it out of the air. He managed to snatch it before crashing back down to the ground in a tumble. Clutching the slip, Ren rolled to a stop with it safe in his possession once more.
Thank Gaia… He was relieved as he slid the slip back into his bag. Looking around to get his bearings now that his wild goose chase was over, he took a step back as he peered at the gates in front of him.
There was an emblem of a Raven’s eye—The Cromwell emblem embossed in the ornate gate. The sheer coincidence of it made Ren stare for what must’ve been too long as a cough interrupted his awe.
Ren jumped back as he finally noticed the well dressed old man who had snuck up behind him. A Cromwell emblem was clearly displayed on his uniform. They didn’t carry themselves like a noble though…a butler, perhaps?
“Judging by the slip you just tucked away, may I presume you are the courier tasked with delivering Lord Vargo’s item?” The potential butler queried, standing with the perfect posture of a trained servant.
“Ah-er, yes. That is me. Though specifically I am to only show it to Lord Cromwell.” Ren awkwardly explained, deliberately patting his bag on his hip.
The butler’s eyes narrowed at the bag before looking up around Ren’s neck. “I see. A clever trick for someone of your status—hiding it in the scarf, I mean.”
Dammit. Ren cursed inwardly as his misdirection was so easily seen through.
“No need to scowl, courier,” the butler lightly reprimanded. “I never intended to take Master Cromwell’s item from you in the first place.”
Ren continued to glare as the butler walked past him towards the gate. “Follow me, courier,” the butler ordered. As he approached, the emblem glowed faintly and the heavy metal gate swung open on its own.
Of course they have a magical gate. Why wouldn’t a noble have a magical gate? Ren sighed as he ran up behind the butler.
They passed through gardens with ornate flower arrangements and a fountain with a crow as its centerpiece before arriving at the front entrance of the Cromwell manor.
As expected, the butler was able to open it just like the gate—the emblem glowing as the doors slowly swung inward.
Nobles and their party tricks. Don’t they ever get bored of them? Ren thought, rolling his eyes.
“Just this way, courier.” The butler led Ren through the entrance hall, winding through a few corridors before arriving at a door, opening it with a gesture for Ren to enter. “I must ask you to wait for Master Vargo in the parlor. He will be with you shortly.”
“I see. Thank you.” Ren nodded, entering the room and finding a couch to sit on while he waited for the recipient of his delivery.
Taking in the room, the furniture was plush and very comfortable. The ornate table in front of him even had a fresh teapot prepared with steam curling from the spout.
Ooooh sugar. Ren noticed as he lifted the lid of the sugar bowl next to the teapot. Taking a look behind him at the observing servant.
Eh, couldn’t hurt. He figured. Nobles were bloody rich, they wouldn’t mind if he served himself a little as he took a teacup and poured himself some tea and dropped in a sugar cube. Then another. And another.
Five cubes later, he turned back to the servant, having to stifle a laugh seeing the disbelief on the servant’s face. The audacity, right? He almost cracked before taking a sip of the now very sweet tea.
It tasted cloyingly sweet, the tea’s original, slightly floral notes being drowned in an excess of sugar. Yet Ren savored the experience; he drank it all in one go, relishing in the sweetness as he shamelessly set the teacup back on the table.
As he considered pouring himself another cup—even if just to see the servant’s reaction again—the door to the parlor opened and the mood of the room shifted in a single moment.
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Ren broke into a cold sweat as the man strode into the room with a presence and bearing of grace and nobility—Lord Vargo Cromwell. It was as if his authority physically manifested and bore down on Ren’s shoulders.
Behind him, the butler from before followed and stood behind him as Vargo Cromwell took the seat opposite of Ren.
“I am glad to see you’ve arrived this evening. I hope the journey wasn’t too difficult.” Vargo nodded, before looking at Ren. “Ah, but introductions are in order. As you are certainly aware, I am the lord of this estate, Vargo Cromwell,” he said, placing a hand on his chest. His other gesturing towards Ren. “And you are?”
“Ah! I’m… uh—yes, I’m Ren Goldenrod. P-Pleased to make your acquaintance, Lord Cromwell,” Ren stammered, bowing hastily.
“Now, now, no need to be so nervous.” Vargo assured him, “I do trust that you’ve brought the item I requested with you?”
“Ah! Yes, yes I do!” Ren hurriedly rooted through his scarf, finding the item and placing it on the table. A black clamshell container—an essence container, warded as indicated by its deep black coloration. “Delivered as promised, ready to be unlocked by the recipient’s etheric signature.”
Vargo reached over and took the box, merely staring at it without opening it. “Good. It is intact, despite the change of plans…”
Ren opened the strings of his pouch and pulled out the delivery slip, putting it on the table. “Well, it’s been pleasant doing business with you, Lord Cromwell. All I need you to do is sign this slip to confirm the delivery.”
“Hmm, yes. And why would I do that?” Vargo asked, holding the box up to his eye level. “I already have the package now, don’t I?”
Ren's eyes widened at Vargo’s challenge. Dammit, why didn’t I have him sign it first?! He mentally slapped himself for his rookie mistake.
Yet the weight of Vargo’s presence almost stifled his retort. Almost. “Surely someone of your caliber wouldn’t need to stoop so low as to refuse to pay for a service rendered?”
As soon as the words left his mouth, the atmosphere of the room grew sharp and cold as Vargo glared at Ren for questioning his honor. Yet only a moment later he shut his eyes and the pressure faded.
“Hmm, I see. Yes, I wouldn’t need to stoop so low.” He started, giving Ren hope. “But for reasons I needn’t share I still refuse to sign the delivery slip.”
“But-”
“Silence.” Vargo cut him off, turning to the butler. “Sebastian, could you procure the appropriate compensation for this courier?”
“It is already done, Master Cromwell.” Sebastian produced a white clamshell container, setting it on the table.
“Well done, Sebastian.” Vargo praised as his eyes turned from the container to the butler. “However, in the future do not presume my intentions.” He coldly reprimanded.
“Sorry, Master Cromwell. I shall do better.” Sebastian shamefully bowed.
Yet Ren didn’t pick up on any of that, his eyes fixed on the white clamshell container—an essence container just like the one he had just delivered. “I-Is this…?”
“Yes. Your deduction is correct.” He opened the clam shell to reveal a glowing, shifting mass—an essence manifestation. “It is as agreed upon.” He gave Sebastian a brief glance.
Ren pulled the clamshell closer to himself. “And it's… for me?”
“Hmm, somewhat.” He leaned back, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Think of it as a gift.”
“I…” Ren was conflicted, on one hand, taking this essence meant he could awaken. On the other hand, it risked him losing his job.
“Well?” Vargo urged, pushing Ren to a conclusion. “Hng… fine, I’ll take it. Thank you very much, Lord Cromwell.” He bowed, closing the clamshell and stashing it in his scarf.
“With that, I believe our business is done.” Vargo concluded, gesturing towards the door. “Do remind Unkeg of my generosity. Sebastian, escort him out.”
Seeing no reason to argue, he followed Sebastian out before having the gate closed behind him. Only then did the greasy feeling of a social ability wear off.
Fucking, shit, eugh, so that’s why I just gave him the package… Bastard. He realized, having been caught off guard as Vargo had ‘seemed’ nice enough. Clearly he was unprepared for a social ability to be used on him.
Reaching into his scarf, he confirmed that the clamshell was still there and still contained an essence… Though in retrospect, those grins and smirks… This thing is probably trash, isn’t it?
Letting out a huge sigh, he retraced his path through the noble district, sufficiently tired of all the overly ornate decorations and snobbish nobles scoffing as he passed by.
The commerce district wasn’t any better as he dreaded what his boss would say as he entered the office.
Unkeg was sorting letters when he walked in. “Oh you’re back. Good job on the delivery.” He gave a thumbs up before returning to sorting letters.
“I uh…” Ren scratched his head, thinking on how to tell his boss.
“Didn’t deliver it, right?” Unkeg gave a very conspicuous wink. “Yeah, good job. Did he give you anything… else?”
What. Ren froze, realizing the situation. Vargo bribed Unkeg, why?
His hand went to his scarf, feeling the clamshell hidden underneath. “...No, he didn’t.” He lied.
Unkeg frowned. “Damn cheap bastard.” He complained, before waving away Ren. “Go. Leave. I have a very colorful letter to send to a friend of mine about a DEAL we had…”
Ren nodded as he left the office in a hurry, rushing through the streets of the commerce district
Why did he bribe Unkeg? What idiot would expect Unkeg to be discrete? That man is anything but discrete!
Passing the much less guarded gate to the common district, Ren could only let the thoughts fester as he contemplated what kind of mess he was in.
I only took that job for the pay, and I didn’t even get that. Instead I got… this thing. He touched the scarf once more to feel the essence clamshell.
Then I stole it, because… Why? Do I seriously still hope I could become a ‘hero’? He frowned as he recalled the juvenile dream.
“Hey Glenda.” He greeted the innkeeper, sliding a coin to her. “Get me an ale.”
“Yeah, right kid.” She chuckled, sliding him a mug of milk instead. “Ask again when you’re 20.”
“Thanks.” He nodded, taking the moment to relax and decompress.
“What’s got you in a knot?” Glenda asked, leaning on the counter.
“Nothing.”
“It ain’t nothing kid. Anyone with eyes can tell.” Glenda gave a light chop to his noggin.
Giving a long sigh, Ren looked away in shame. “I had a delivery for a shady noble, and they used a social ability on me.” He explained.
“Oooh, yikes.” She recoiled before leaning in for the tea. “Who?”
“Customer Confidentiality, Glenda.” He scolded her, pushing her out of his personal space.
“Alright, alright… Y’know, for your troubles, I’ll offer breakfast for free tomorrow.” Glenda smirked.
Remembering the one and only time he ate Glenda’s cooking, a shiver ran down his spine. “NOPE! I’ll be fine, don’t you worry your big ol’ head Glenda!” He jumped out of his seat and retreated as fast as he could to his room.
“The offer still stands!” Glenda threatened with a hearty laugh as he scurried away.
Shutting his door, Ren sighed as he pulled out the real source of his worries from his scarf.
The question was obvious. Do I slot it? And it was tearing him up. Just having it was risking getting robbed.
Placing the essence container on his desk, he swept back his messy hair, contemplating what he should do.
It’s almost certainly garbage… But no essence is actively detrimental, is it? He sat and stared at it for several long moments before opening the clamshell.
The manifestation of the essence was chaotically changing and turning between many forms, never staying still for a single moment.
It was unnerving, yet so mystifying. It was as if it called out to him.
Reaching out to it, he felt the force between him and the manifestation, preventing him or anything else from touching it.
He couldn’t move it, no. Not without the container. But what he could do was slot it.
With a click of his tongue, he decided to just go for it, consequences be damned as he forced his hand around the essence despite the force pushing against it, slowly overcoming the barrier.
And in a single moment all resistance vanished as the manifestation vanished and the essence sunk into his spirit where it felt like it should’ve always been.
And as it did so, his spirit stirred awake and whispered its first words to him.
He leaned back in his chair as a wave of euphoria washed away every doubt.
Ren Goldenrod was officially awakened.
How was your day today?
