I doubt anyone will read this, but I'm going to upload it anyway for the small chance someone might actually enjoy it. Happy reading.

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Chapter Six: Dark Secrets

Agatha's words refused to leave Clair's mind. The woman believed her grandfather was hiding something important – a dark family secret. Everyone had their secrets, but what was so bad that he felt it was necessary to keep quiet about? And how did Agatha even know? Was she involved somehow? Why hadn't anyone tried to stop Agatha and report her for using magic? How was an old woman able to escape? So many questions.

"Are you still thinking about Agatha?" Karen said.

A day had passed since their encounter. Troubled, she hadn't been able to sleep the previous night. All she could think about was her grandfather and it only raised several questions. Why had he started the war against the mages? Why would the mages suddenly betray the kingdom? These questions were ones her grandfather refused to answer.

"It's what she said to me. It shouldn't be a big deal, but it is. She said my family could not be trusted."

Karen shrugged. "She's an old woman. Old people are mad, especially the women."

"But what if she's telling the truth?"

"How would she even know what the truth is?"

"Because she knows magic? Don't magical people know these sorts of things?"

Karen sighed. "You're thinking of the oracles. They know everything because they see everything, but there hasn't been an oracle sighting in decades. Look. You've got to relax, okay? It's just the ramblings of an old woman."

The woman wasn't even supposed to be in this city considering her grandfather's stance on magic. Although mixing potions for healing purposes was allowed, potions that changed your appearance wouldn't be accepted. That involved actual magic. Not just a bunch of ingredients together. She wasn't even sure why her grandfather feared it so much. Magic was a weapon and if wielded correctly could be used to devastating effect.

"Yeah. You're right. I shouldn't take any notice."

Karen nodded. "You need to take your mind off Agatha, and I know just the thing to keep you distracted. The markets are on, right? And that means the foreign merchants are here with their unique goods. I'm sure you'll find something that you will catch your eye." She gestured towards the market distract.

Clair didn't visit the markets often. Usually it was just lowly peasants trying to sell their goods and she didn't see the point in spending her coin on their poor-quality wares, but on rare occasions some merchants would have something that was interesting. She had a penchant for jewellery especially gold amulets, and she had the money to buy the best of the best.

"Fine. We will go to the markets. Perhaps I will find something that will catch my interest." The only reason Karen was taking her to the markets was because she wanted something for herself. Karen had money; but she certainly wasn't wealthy. Sometimes, Clair would buy her something if she was in a good mood.

Karen gave an impatient sigh. "It will take your mind off such petty thoughts anyway. I mean, come on, seriously Clair? She's just saying that to scare you. She's an old hag. That's what they do. We all have secrets; not all of them must be shared. If something bad did happen, it's in the past, right? Besides, you've been living a decent life for over two decades now and no one else has ever said anything so why even worry? So, stop worrying okay?"

Clair nodded and kept her mouth shut. It wasn't as if there was anything else to say. She followed Karen down a twisting sandy path until they reached the markets. The market district was lively as always. The commoners would always gather here looking for cheap trinkets, walking up and down the street, searching for a store that suited their fancy. There were jewellery stalls. Food stalls. Clothing stalls. Stalls for herbal medicines and even small animals for sale such as rabbits and lizards.

"Oh, I think you'll like this one," Karen said, tilting her head towards a stall at the far end. Each stall consisted of a single table and two pouches made of raticate hide used for carrying goods. All the goods available for purchase were laid out on the table arranged in rows. Clair followed Karen to a stall owned by a woman with orange hair with brown highlights. Her eyes were also a strange shade of orange too. Already she could tell there was something odd about this woman.

"This is the jewellery store owned by Gardenia. She sells rare objects. She's a treasure hunter."

Gardenia didn't even acknowledge Clair with a smile. It was hard to tell what she was thinking. Her face was neutral, and her body language didn't even give off a defensive vibe. Her arms were at her sides and her lips pressed together in a thin line though she didn't see any anger in her eyes. "I travel the lands searching abandoned towns and cities and I go where not many people will dare visit," the woman said. "I have searched caves. I have dug up graves. I have entered sacred shrines."

Weird and a bit creepy, Clair thought. She glanced down at the table and scanned the goods available. To the far left were a couple of earrings, but she already had a golden pair that she liked. They had belonged to her mother who had died to complications in childbirth. Her eyes shifted right. There were bracelets, but again she was already satisfied with the ones she had. She looked some more then stopped, her eyes focusing on the amulets. There was one made of gold with a blood-coloured ruby on the far right. The other amulets were either copper or silver. She ignored those ones.

"I like the looks of this one," Clair said, pointing at the amulet with the blood-coloured ruby.

Gardenia glanced down and smiled. "You have good eyes. I found that one in a tomb for a former priest. He had no name, but the priests of the early days believed rubies would protect them from evil spirits."

Clair didn't fear spirits. Besides, ghosts didn't exist. That was just a story the children shared. What do you think, Karen?"

"I think the red clashes with the gold personally…" Karen faced Clair. "…And it clashes with your hair colour."

Rolling her eyes, Clair turned away and picked up the amulet. Much to her surprise, the ruby itself was warm to her tough as it if were a living breathing creature. That wasn't normal. Clair glanced up.

As if Gardenia had sensed her surprise, the woman said, "The ruby is filled with magic."

"Magic?" Clair said, holding the amulet before her, catching the sun's rays on the ruby. "How so?"

"The priests would place powerful spells on their amulets to ward off the evil spirits. They believed evil forces could possess the bodies of humans and so they made these amulets for protection," Gardenia explained. She paused then added, "That is why the ruby feels warm to your fingertips. Even after all these centuries the powerful magic still lives in them and it will protect you from harm."

Karen snorted. "Oh, that's just ridiculous."

Clair placed the amulet around her neck. The warmth of the ruby seemed to spread throughout her entire body. Gardenia hadn't been lying when she said the magic was still powerful even after all these long years. She would have to hide the ruby from public eyes however – her grandfather would be most displeased if he discovered she was wearing an item of magic around her neck.

"You don't believe her?"

"Why should we?"

"She could be telling truth."

"Or it could just be one of those stories told around a campfire. Come on, Clair. You're not a believer in the ghostly spirits either… Or has that amulet around your neck already corrupted your mind?" she teased.

With a roll of her eyes, Clair ignored her and looked at Gardenia again. "I'm going to buy it. I don't believe in spirits myself, but I do fancy good jewellery. Here. Take ten gold coins. I have no need for them," she added, handing over a small pouch of gold coins. Coin wasn't an issue for her. She didn't work, and she still had coin than everyone else in the kingdom.

Gardenia's eyebrows lifted. "Impressive."

Karen gave a dismissive snort, unimpressed. "It's not even that pretty, really," she murmured.

Turning her back, Clair prepared to walk off when Gardenia spoke again.

"The spirits are real," she said softly. "The dead live once more."

Clair turned back around. "What stays dead… stays dead."

"I have travelled the world. I have seen men die and rise again. Magic is a powerful force."

Karen grabbed Clair's arm and tugged her aside. "Just ignore her. All those travels seemed to have messed with her head. It is getting late and I'm supposed to be cooking dinner tonight. Next time I'll take you to the slave pits for the fighting. You'll love it."

The illegal fighting zone where slave owners placed bets on their slaves. Slaves would fight in a tiny arena of mud and dirt until one was knocked unconscious or surrendered. Her grandfather didn't know about them; none of the castle slaves were involved so he wasn't concerned with what others did with theirs.

"All right. Grandfather will be expecting my presence anyway for dinner. Farewell."

Karen said her farewells then left. Most likely her grandfather would want to discuss the marriage to Benga. She barely knew anything about the man except that his family was very wealthy. That was probably why her grandfather wanted her to marry him – for money, but it wasn't as if their family was struggling financially…. Or were they? Grandfather never discussed financial matters with her, and she knew there was no point in discussing the topic with him. Not even Lance knew the details or he at least he claimed not to know.

"Fine. I'll see you later then."

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Morty had departed for Blackthorn, and with the problem resolved in Azalea, Eusine had decided it was time to return to Ecruteak. For the past few months he had kept his distance from the city of birth, wanting to avoid Naoko's piercing gaze. It was obvious the woman didn't hold him in high regard – she only sent him to small towns to carry out menial tasks.

But this was his chance to improve his reputation with her. Morty was out of the city, and that meant he couldn't prove that he had been the one to solve the issue at Azalea Town. After all, he wasn't even supposed to be there. He could claim glory for resolving the issue and claim the rewards from the leaders. Morty was the one whom the sisters held in high regard, and he was the one often overlooked. But this would change things. He could prove he was just as capable, and hopefully the Phoenix would favour him.

"Isn't he supposed to be your friend?" Will said, leaning back in his chair, one leg folded over the other. His left hand was holding his goblet, whilst his right rested on his leg.

Eusine nodded. "Friendship doesn't exist in the Order of Ash, Will."

"Then why don't you just stab him and be rid of the competition?" He took a sip of his drink.

"What? Kill him myself?" Eusine replied. He looked down at his own drink, reached out for it, then pulled his arm away. "He's the finest warrior we have. Passed the combat trials with ease. Passed the trials of faith and magic with no problems either. He earned the Phoenix's blessing and that is why he is heading to Blackthorn."

"And you wish it was you."

Again, Eusine nodded. "Can you blame me? All my life I've been in his shadow, watching him progress and become the Chosen One within the circle. He looks down upon me, Will. He knows I'm not his equal."

Will put his drink down and uncrossed his legs. "You are a foolish man, Eusine. You are not thinking. If you can't kill him yourself, then find someone who can do the job for you. There is no shame in hiring someone else to do the dirty work for you."

Eusine leaned forward, placing both arms on the table. "What? Hire assassins? I can't do that. What if they decide to kill me instead? Those men are without honour."

"There is honour among assassins if you know the right ones to ask. Have you heard the name Janine?"

"Never."

"She's the daughter of Koga, the high priest of Blackthorn. She abandoned the life of service to the church and left the city. Now she's an honourable thief who can be found in Goldenrod City if you are willing to make the journey."

Looking thoughtful, Eusine ran a finger across his lips. "You've met with her before?"

Folding his arms over his chest, Will nodded. "In my trade, it pays to know the best thief."

"Then I will make the journey to Goldernod and speak with her. What must I know about her?"

"Anything of value to you. She has an eye for jewellery. Gold preferably."

The only gold he had in his possession was his mother's ring. "I can't give up my ring. That belonged to my mother. It was a gift to her said to have been made by Suicune himself." The god of winter. A beast who fought in the great war of the gods many centuries ago, well before the time of humans.

"Do you want Morty dealt with or would you prefer to remain in his shadow? If he's as talented as you say, then I can't imagine he'll be meeting an early grave anytime soon without some interference from you." Will leaned back, a smirk gracing his lips. "It's your choice ultimately. How badly do you want to be appreciated?"

Tightening his jaw, Eusine curled his fingers into fists then glanced down at the ring on his finger. He touched it with his left hand, carefully running his fingers across the cool surface, as if it would break with too much force. "I have to give you up for the greater good. I want to make you proud of me," he whispered.

"I will accompany you to Goldenrod. The work here has been done so there's no reason for me to stay here no more. Besides, I was beginning to tire of this small town anyway. I've always preferred the bigger cities. A merchant can take us there for a small fee. Oh. I would advise collecting Fantina's remains. The head at least as proof to Naoko."

Eusine nodded. "Of course."

"Before I go, I must ask – are you certain you wish to go through with this? You are asking to assassinate someone who is also part of your Order, a brother so to speak. If you succeed, you may still not be rewarded. If you fail, then your life might in danger if he decides to seek you out."

"Did you see how he treated me earlier? He does not value my life at all. So why should I value his life? No. I will give up the ring. Even if I fail… Even if I am not blessed by the Phoenix… I will still have the satisfaction of knowing he is dead." Whatever it took to get ahead of your rivals even if it meant turning against one of your brothers.

Will nodded. "Very well then. I'll make the necessary arrangements. We will leave at dawn." The man stood up and walked away.

Eusine watched him retreat, taking another sip of his mead. Ho-Oh was the god of rebirth. By killing Morty, he would be reborn a new man. "Here's to a new life," he murmured.

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"There are a number of jobs available to slaves," Ethan said, guiding Lyra towards the farmlands outside the city walls.

The farms stretched across the plains all the way to the lower slopes of the mountains. She could see both men and women working on the crops and tending to the animals in the hot sun. Both men and women wore large straw hats and clothing that covered their arms and legs entirely to protect them from the heat.

"But as a woman and a maid of the castle, you won't have to be worry about these jobs," Ethan added.

"And what sort of jobs are they?"

"Well, we have every area covered. For the middle-class jobs, we have cooks, farmers and butchers to provide food for the people. We have falconers to train falcons to deal with pests that invade the granary and the mills. We have the messengers to deliver important notices to surrounding kingdoms and towns. Then we have the least fortunate jobs usually reserved for the lowly slaves and this involves being a gong farmer and cleaning the kingdom. It also includes being a bath man and that is basically washing people as they visit the city baths."

Lyra raised an eyebrow. "City baths? You mean you don't have a private area?"

Ethan shook his head. "Well, the royal family have their own quarters and the solders have theirs as well, but everyone else has to share. We roll in big barrels of water and the bath man use some cloth to rub down anyone who has an appointment. As you can imagine, it's not easy to do, especially since men and women share the same bath area."

Lyra tried to think of something to say, but nothing came to mind. Would that mean she had to bathe in the same area too? She never had to undress before anyone else but her mother. Standing naked in front of strangers didn't sound comforting. "…Shared bathing areas?" she said, finally finding her voice to speak.

"You become used to it after a while."

"…Right. Um. I won't have to do that, will I?"

"You'll be a personal servant to the king's family, meaning Lance and Clair. I mean. I was told before you arrived that they were looking for someone to serve Clair because she can be a bit… wild. Clair is supposed to be getting married soon too so the king wants someone to help her. You basically came at the right time. Any later and you'd probably end up someplace else."

A personal servant to the royal family? And here she thought she was just going to be a castle maid doing castle duties like cleaning and cooking. She bit her lower lip. "So… What are they like? You know the royal family?"

"Clair, as I said, can be a wild spirit. I haven't dealt with her much at all, but I know she's demanding and rude. Not exactly the ideal woman to be honest, but who am I to speak ill of the future queen? As for Lance, he's the opposite of Clair. If Clair is mad at you, she will yell and scream, but if Lance is, he'll express his disappointment in a quiet controlled tone…. Not that I've ever seen him angry. He's just too perfect, you know?"

Like a prince in the fairy tales her mother told her as a child. The princes in her mother's stories were noble, physically and mentally strong, kind-hearted and handsome. They were the ideal representation of men who knew all the right words to say to a woman to make her fall in love with him. Lyra didn't believe in the tales; perfection was just an illusion, something the delusional tried to obtain. Everyone was flawed even if they didn't openly acknowledge it. "Right. So I'm going to be their slave?"

"Not a slave, Lyra. A personal maid. There's a difference."

"And what exactly would that be?"

"Slaves don't have rights. You do. You can spend your coin freely for example."

"…But I'd still be serving someone. A master." She failed to see the difference.

"…Well yeah, but don't we all serve someone?" He raised a fair point. There was no such thing as freedom. Everyone served a higher power. Even the king did. He served God, Arceus. "Besides, being a personal maid to Clair, the princess, is a big deal, Lyra. Do you how many other people would want to be in that position? It's better than working out in the hot sun or being in the bakery."

"When you put it like that, I can't argue with your logic."

Ethan smiled. "See? It'll be perfectly fine. Yeah, Clair can be a little difficult to deal with, but you will be protected. Edward has never mistreated us, and Lance has always shown kindness towards us as well. You may even be asked to do tasks for Lance."

"And what sort of tasks will be required of me?"

"Anything Clair asks of you really. Washing her clothes. Combing her hair. Organizing her clothes. Helping her with her jewellery. Taking her to the bathhouse. That sort of stuff. The daily essentials. Lance may ask the same of you and he's entitled to even though your Clair's personal maid."

Lyra raised an eyebrow. So, she was technically serving two people.

At Lyra's confused look, Ethan added, "I'm not saying that he will… He doesn't have his own personal servant, but he might ask you for some assistance like preparing his horse and grabbing his sword and the like."

"Oh," was all Lyra could say. For a moment she thought Ethan might be suggesting that she might have to aid Lance at the bathhouse too. How embarrassing. She could feel her cheeks beginning to warm up at the thought of a public bathhouse. "…Have you ever had to do that before? You know. Get close and personal with the royals?"

Ethan shook his head. "…I once gave Clair's mare a bath. She wasn't happy. Said I missed a spot and I was punished for it. I had to clean the stables for a week." He scrunched up his face at the memory.

"…And I'm supposed to be her personal maid? I'm not even going to last an hour."

"…She can be rough around the edges, but just try to do your best. I mean. I know cleaning the stables for a week was supposed to be punishment, but it got me out of doing my usual tasks, so I wasn't complaining. At the time, I was still new, so I was doing all the dull stuff like cleaning up the bathhouse, so I had no reason to complain about the royal stables."

She forced a smile. His words did little to comfort her. Clair sounded like she was going to be impossible to please. Maybe if she disappointed Clair too many times, she'd be removed of her personal duties and just serve as a castle servant instead. Scrubbing the floors sounded better than putting up with Clair's wild personality and demands.

"Anyway. You'll be fine. Don't worry too much okay? You may have to put up with Clair, but you'll have privileges not available to other servants of the castle."

"Such as?"

He grinned. "In social events, you'll have the best view of the entertainment."

"I suppose there's always a positive."

"Of course. You'll have some time to yourself too. Like I said – you're going to be fine. Clair will just tell you what is required of you and you just have to follow her instructions." He paused then added, "I'd love to continue giving you a tour of the place, but we should probably head back."

Lyra nodded, but didn't speak further. What else was there to say? Ethan had explained all she needed to know for now. Clair was not going to be pleasant to work for and it didn't seem like anything could impress her. The royals in her mother's stories were always depicted as friendly and caring people. Clearly, she had never crossed paths with Clair before.

"So many other slaves would love to be in your position," Ethan said, leading the way back to the servant's castle quarters.

Lyra raised an eyebrow. As if that made her feel better. Was Ethan envious of her? He had been here for several years. She hadn't been able to detect any jealousy from him, but perhaps he had just perfected the art of hiding it. Still, she was curious to know. "Do servants ever get promoted to a higher position?"

He shook his head. "Only if a slave or master dies, but otherwise you remain in the position you were given. If the master dies, the new owner can choose to keep the current ones or purchase new slaves. If a slave dies, they are simply replaced."

"So, there's still a chance you can become a personal servant to the royals?"

He shook his head. "Clair only accepts female slaves and Lance won't take any for himself. The king has his own crew, but they tend to be older woman, more experienced. But it's not something I aspire to have – I'm fortunate enough to be where I am now, and I couldn't ask anything more," he explained, keeping his gaze focused on the path ahead. Was he telling the truth? It was hard to tell without directly looking into his eyes.

"Right."

Now he looked at her. "If you think your new position as Clair's personal maid will disrupt our friendship, I can promise you now that it won't. I won't always be there for you, but I will always be your friend."

She smiled. "Thanks, Ethan. I appreciate it."

"We look out for each other here. Like I said. We're a community. Oh. It seems our food is ready."

She had been so caught up in the conversation that she hadn't even paid much attention to their surroundings. She sniffed the air, catching the aroma of what smelled like chicken from the kitchen. Her stomach growled in response.

Ethan chuckled. "Seems like someone is hungry. Come on. Let's head inside."

Lyra didn't need further encouragement.

Lance pulled his cape around him as he entered the wooden gates of Mahogany Town. Although the climate was warmer than it was in Blackthorn, it was still quite gusty thanks to a northern breeze from the mountains. The town was positioned just south of a lake towards the eastern borders of the Blackthorn Forest. It was known for its unique fish colony known as the magikarp which could only be found in this lake, and Edward ensured he would always protect the town in exchange for fish.

As for the people, they were simple peasants skilled in chopping down trees, catching fish and other menial tasks. Although the town had a few guards, these men were not experienced fighters – no more experienced than a farm boy given a weapon to wield. Such was the lives of the peasants whom lived outside Blackthorn's borders. The villagers were hard at work as usual.

Lance saw men pushing carts down the dusty streets, transporting items from one side to the other. He saw women carrying bags of wheat to the bakery accompanied by their children whom also helped share the load. He saw Pryce heading back towards his office followed by a distressed peasant. That was his destination.

Several of the locals stopped their tasks when they noticed his presence. Although Lance wasn't a frequent visitor, he was well known throughout the region. He could not be mistaken for someone else. Perhaps it was the distinguishable black cape with golden trimmings that made him so easy to identify. Or perhaps it was the dark shade of red of his hair that made him recognizable since it was uncommon. Whispers were exchanged, but no one pointed.

Lance ignored them and quickened his pace to close the distance between himself and Pryce. "Pryce," he called out.

The man stopped in his tracks and turned around. Relief washed over his face. "Lance! Finally a face that I'm pleased to see." He placed a hand on his shoulder in a gesture of friendship then pulled it back.

The peasants following him also stopped, glanced at Lance then retreated, uttering their apologies. It was almost as if they were afraid of him.

"We received word of troubles in this town. Grandfather sent me here to solve it."

Pryce pointed towards the door. "I would prefer we talk behind closed doors."

Lance nodded. "Of course."

Pryce opened the door and Lance followed him inside. Despite being the mayor of the town, Pryce's home was no different from the peasants. It was small and contained three rooms with two open windows each, providing minimal source of light. There was one room for sleeping, one room for eating and the other for cooking and cleaning duties.

"What's the problem?" Lance said, sitting himself down on one of the wooden chairs.

"It's the wolves… Well, one wolf. He's taken up residence at the lake and villagers are too scared to approach the water out of fear they will be killed. If we can't fish from the lake, then we can't trade our goods in exchange for coin, and your grandfather will not receive the fish he enjoys so much," Pryce explained. He walked over to the northern wall and drew Lance's attention towards a painting. There was a full moon and a pack of wolves beneath it, surrounding a bloodied corpse. "The wolf arrived four days ago, and he will not leave."

"There hasn't been a sighting of a werewolf in over five years. Why now?"

Pryce shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

"Wolves haven't been sighted this far north in over five years. For a wolf to come this far north, they must be frightened of something… or someone." His thoughts drifted to the necromancers. If anything could cause a wolf to flee in terror it would be a cultist of dark magic. Why else would such a powerful creature leave?

Pryce raised an eyebrow. "And what would a wolf be afraid of?"

"Magic."

"Wolves are products of magic."

"There are different forms of magic that exist."

Pryce frowned. "You are referring to The Times of Trouble?"

"We know it happened. We have written accounts of the chaos that occurred."

"And you think the survivors are regrouping to retaliate?"

Lance drew in a deep breath and nodded. "We can never rule out the possibility. There is no other reason why the wolves would come this far north, especially in such an open space besides a lake, especially not so close to town. Something had to have scared them off."

"If there was someone else out there, don't you think your scouts would've found something?" Pryce challenged.

Lance sighed. Pryce raised a solid point. If the necromancers had indeed returned, why hadn't they found something earlier? Unless they had been hiding in the shadows biding their time waiting for the right moment? Necromancers drew strength from the dead. The greater the number of the dead, the stronger their power would become.

"I searched the forests earlier and came across some troubling signs of dark magic."

"And you have informed your grandfather?"

Lance nodded. "Yes, but he is not convinced."

"You are referring to necromancy."

Again, Lance nodded. "What else could it be? A five-pointed star on each of the foreheads of the bodies. Certainly not the work of bandits. They wouldn't kill them – but rob the people and sell them off to become slaves."

Pryce fell silent, rubbing his chin, deep in thought. After a few moments he spoke again. "A five-pointed star is not enough proof of necromancy activity, Lance. Let us focus on the matter of the werewolf instead before jumping to more conclusions."

"Right, of course," Lance remarked, trying to conceal his disappointment in his tone. "I will return when the problem is resolved but until then, be sure not to let anyone venture to close to the lake."

Pryce nodded. "Then I wish you the best of luck."

Lance stood up and headed towards the door. Knowing there was nothing else needed to be said he left without saying another word.