Chapter 9

Sheldor and Wolowix spent the rest of the day practicing new and old abilities.

Wolowix's innovagygr abilities were slightly rusty, but the more he practiced, the stronger the magic was. The innovagyr's powers were not just restricted to conjuration and regeneration… he was a wizard of many talents, but because he never obtained his Domini Gradu… no one really ever took him seriously. Just old Howardrick who fixed knick knacks and whose wife's heart was ripped out of her chest and then who disappeared without a trace. Wolowix growled and made a chimera from a stick, then back to a stick.

Sheldor tried to get a grasp upon the newest addition to his persons. The armor, itself, was no heavier than cloth. The gardbrace that expanded across his back and chest didn't pinch when he lifted his arm all the way up, it was as if the metal had become a part of his body. He flexed his hand and maneuvered it all around just to test its limitations when his entire arm morphed into a giant crab arm with a huge pincer at the end. He had stared at it for half a heartbeat before screaming and flinging his arm in the air only to have it back to its normal, armored self. Wolowix laughed as he sat on a log beside the fire he created and Sheldor scowled at him. It went on for hours until Sheldor found he could shoot out all kinds of projectiles, shift it into all types of objects (even a griffon's head), and even make himself go invisible with it. He didn't want to admit that he loved his new weapon and the demon was quite insightful and almost funny, but she was vulgar and didn't quite have a filter.

The two slept in the barn on fluffy mattresses that Wolowix conjured. They both laid on their backs and stared up at the magical fire's glow upon the ceiling before Wolowix's voice cleared the air, "You ever going to tell me what happened between you and Penelope?"

Sheldor tensed for a few seconds and stayed silent.

Wolowix tried again, "Look… I remember you diving after her and catching her. I freaked out and used one of my teleportation spells. I felt… weird when I did it… like a sinister force took over or something and then I went blank. The next thing I know… Penelope's gone… you have no heart… and you're making deals with the devil. What happened, Sheldor?"

Sheldor went through everything and he closed his eyes tight, "When you and I shot the witch's hand off and presumably saving Penelope's heart, it had turned out to be a lie. The witch was using her as a pawn to get me closer just so she could steal my heart. You missed nothing but betrayal, my friend. I'm just glad that you're alright."

Sheldor stopped the twitching as he expressed his sentiment to the man. His memory flooding him with kissing and naked bodies, thankful that Wolowix couldn't see him. The innovagygr's voice traveled to him again, "How are we going to find a castle that no one has ever found?"

Sheldor sighed and continued to look straight up, "The witch always has underlings, my dear Wolowix… and there is one I have yet to put an arrow into. Bawe Kwipke…"

Wolowix shot up a brow at the lisp of the name as Sheldor continued, "Bawe is an alchemist that my mentor and I had gone up against but were unsuccessful in capturing or killing him. He is a crafty little rodent and I'm positive that it was he who started that fire back at the village where we met that magic proofed ogre." He shook his head, "And what does one alchemist working for the witch have to do with finding the castle?"

Sheldor's eyes twitched as the man didn't let him finish, but he pushed through it and answered, "Underlings of the witch have had to have gone to the castle, thus, they are given its location when it has changed sites."

Wolowix nodded in approval, "Alright… where can we find the little pimple?"

Sheldor closed his eyes, "I have a pretty good idea where Kwipke is… Tomorrow, we will take the short travel to the Nailao Torta Fabrik… a pub right down in town where all the 'shady' folks meet. Now, we need our allotted 8 hours of sleep, so… goodnight Wolowix."

Wolowix smiled and shook his head, "Goodnight… Shelly."

Sheldor groaned but knew his argument for the man to stop calling him 'Shelly' was useless.

They woke up and tended to their morning rituals and met back at the barn. Sheldor admitted that it was weird not having his jacket or hat, but he felt stronger and more confident which, bothered him knowing that the weapon was a demon and he could only bare to think how much holy water his mother would bathed him in if she knew he'd given in to the devil. He shook his head of the thoughts as Wolowix stepped beside him and they both started walking down the path towards the bustling town. When they got a certain ways away from the barn; it collapsed back to its decayed form and the new boards turned to dirt.

They were nearly to the town, walking in silence, when a familiar bird call filled their ears. They stopped at the sheer volume of it as a whirlwind began to spin around them. They both looked up and their eyes widened and they sprung out of the way as huge talons dropped the black furred nerkanine on the ground then the bird flapped to a graceful landing. Sheldor dusted off his pants as he stood and looked up just in time to see Onar running towards him then sliding to a stop and pulling him in with a paw to hug him. The telepathy finally kicking in, "SHELDOR! Thank Qun! I thought you were dead!"

Sheldor pushed Onar's head, "Well, obviously I am not, so be so kind as to remove yourself from my persons."

The nerk whimpered with his ears down, but soon regained his happiness as seeing him again. Sheldor, though scowling, was very happy to see Onar as well. The nerk looked at his left arm with a tilted head, "Nice… where'd you get that? HEY… where's Wolowix?"

Before Sheldor had a chance to address this, Stephinaria fluttered down from her rainbow bird to the ground beside them. She looked distraught and only at Sheldor, "Where's Penny?"

Sheldor averted his gaze. He had gone almost all morning without thinking about her. He took in a breath and looked back at the fairy, "She rejoined her Lady after they both ripped my heart out of my chest."

The two looked at his chest and he raised his new metallic arm, shifting it into a wing of a bird, "I had to make a deal with a demon just so I could make it back here and kill the witch."

The fairy backed away, but the nerk was unfazed. He'd been with Sheldor for too long to just abandon him now… and he still wanted his revenge on the witch. Stephinaria stepped forward again and touched the metal that was infused with his neck then slid her hand up to the brand upon his cheek and ran her thumb over it. Her face was sad but torn between relief and anger.

She removed it and looked into his eyes, "Promise me… Promise me you won't forget who you are… Promise me you'll find Penelope and bring her back alive. You promise me this, Sir Sheldor… don't let the knowledge and power change who you really are."

She didn't wait for an answer… she just turned and fluttered to the back of her bird. She looked down at him one more time and yelled, "She needs you, Sheldor… she can't live without you!" With that, the bird launched into the air and soon was nothing more than a call in the wind.

Wolowix moved to stand beside Sheldor as all three men looked straight up. When they all looked down and at each other, Onar did a double take on the short innovagygr. Wolowix smiled as Onar's telepathy entered all their minds, "Wolowix? You… you're HUMAN!"

Wolowix nodded, "Yep… and pretty pumped about getting a crack at that witch." They both looked back at Sheldor, who was deep in thought at the fairy's words. Don't let the knowledge and power change who you really are. What did that mean? He looked at his left arm and a thought occurred to him… he had bonded with a demon… there was a pretty big chance that she would possess him and he would lose everything he ever was. Why wasn't she talking to him like Wolowix had? 'What is your plan, Chrsnyght?' he yelled in his head, but got no response. Onar's telepathy invaded his mind and he was snapped back to reality, "Helllooo… Sheldor? You still in there?"

He shook his head, "I haven't moved from this spot, so… yes… I'm still 'here'."

Wolowix grinned, "I let Onar here on our plan while you were in wonderland… I think we're ready to rumble."

Sheldor's eye twitched at that analogy, "Rumble? You're ready to move noisily? That will not benefit our conquest. I would believe it better to move at a quieter pace."

Wolowix raised a brow, "No… I meant… ugh… nevermind! Let's Go!"

As both men rode on the back of the nerk through town, there seemed to be a lot of suspicious people eyeballing them. Wolowix felt a tinge of nervousness as he saw a man pausing from sharpening his blade on a slab of leather with a man covered in white lather sitting in front of him. He swallowed and fought the urge to wrap his arms around Sheldor like a scared little girl. Sheldor spoke softly, "There, Onar." Onar turned at his direction and they all saw a wooden sign with Nailao Torta Fabrik burned into it across a shady looking door with two large men guarding it.

"Onar, they will not allow you within this establishment, only humanoids are allowed. Stand by and wait for our signal before you barge in." Sheldor hopped down and patted the nerk's back.

"How will I know what the signal is?"

Sheldor looked towards the two big men, "It will be improbable to miss… Come Wolowix."

Sheldor "convinced" the two burly gentlemen to let them in. A flaming arm pressing one of them against the wall by the throat seemed to be the secret password. They walked in and took in the site of large sweaty fishermen playing cards, smoking and drinking, with scantily clad barmaids rushing around. It was barely lit by an old, rickety chandelier with 12 candles almost hovering above the place by a rusty old chain. There were rounded tables with four or more chairs to each one and almost as many men covering it. The bar only had a few spaces open where the rest were covered with slurry talking men onto their next round of beers. When the two walked in, the static of many deep voices chatting went silent.

Sheldor stood confident as Wolowix hid behind him like a scared cat, his eyes flew over the entirety of the bar. He didn't see Bawe… but he did see Wesley. With a twitch of anger on his face, Sheldor stomped forward and the noise of talking began again.

Wesley Wheatson was a man that Sheldor had admired growing up with Gablehauser; he was everything he wanted to be. He had unique intelligence, a ruthless drive, and an adamant disregard for the 'nay-sayers', but when the town was under attack from the Minotaur; Wesley ran away and left the Minotaur to Gablehauser and him. His mentor… a fake… a charlatan! Yet the town still treated him like some kind of hero. Sheldor could feel a burning flow come over him and he swore he heard an ethereal growl come from his throat as he approached the man in a long, tan leather trench coat downing a shot at the bar.

Sheldor slammed his armored hand onto the bar right beside Wesly and caused the man to jump a little while Sheldor snarled, "Wheatson!"

Wesley smiled and turned towards him in his stool, "Oh Ho Ho… If it isn't ol' Sea Shells by the Sea Shore! Looking FIERCE there Shelly!"

Sheldor's eyes flared black as his armored hand on the bar began to crack the wood under his ever tightening grip, "I need to speak with you for a moment… in private."

Wolowix followed the two men into a back room of the pub and slams the door behind them. Sheldor and Wesley sit at a square table and Wesley looks back and forth at the two, "Alright Sheldor… what is this?"

Sheldor sighed, "I'm looking for Kwipke… and I know you know where he is. I just need for you to point me in his direction."

Wesley laughed, leaning back in his chair, "What… why in the Heaven's Gate would I know where that speech impaired crack pot of an alchemist would be?"

Sheldor slammed his armored fist onto the table, "Does it seem as if I was making a joke… if I were making a joke, I would bring up your career."

Wolowix covered his mouth with an 'Oooo' and an 'Oh Snap' before Wesley leaned back towards the table, "You're so cute when you're jealous, Sea Shell… Tell me… how's Eric doing?"

Sheldor jumped up with a blinding anger that took him a few minutes to control, "You will not soil his name, you traitorous WELP! Now tell me… WHERE'S BAWE KWIPKE!"

Wesley leaned back against the chair and looked at Sheldor solemnly, "Information doesn't come cheap, Shelly."

Sheldor had a growl in his throat, "What's your price?"

Wesley grinned.

Sheldor stood on top of the bar and cleared his throat. When the men didn't quiet down, he yelled, "If I may have your attention, Gentlemen… My name is Sir Sheldor of Galstire… and I am…" He hesitated and looked down at Wesley, who was grinning up a storm with a mug of beer in his hands.

Sheldor snarled at him and straightened back up, "I am a pretty little princess who thinks Wesley Wheatson is the greatest man alive. He's so handsome and fantastic that I would be lucky to even LICK one of his boots."

Sheldor's face was twitched and twisted in anger as he jumped down off the bar while the men began to laugh. Wesley raised his beer towards him as Wolowix had to hide his face behind his hands as he laughed. Wesley took a swig of his beer and leaned over, "When the short and long hand on the clock touch eleven… Bawe will be right here at the bar. He doesn't sit down… he just take orders a large one, drinks it down, and takes off. Cheers Shelly… and… I'll keep my boots clean for you whenever you wanna lick'em." He gave off a cocky laugh, moving to the back of the pub, again, this time with two women under each arm.

Wolowix stood beside him, shaking his head, "That man is a GOD."

Sheldor scowled, "Yes... a God of feces…"

The men of the Nailao Torta Fabrik were almost a constant barnacle upon the stools and chairs of the establishment. There were barely anyone leaving or entering as Sheldor and Wolowix sat at the back of the bar. They had ordered leg of lamb just so the owner would not question their presence. Wolowix shared a few drinks of mead with a group of darkly tanned sailors. He was embarrassingly buzzed as the long hand reached the point between the 10 and the 11. Sheldor's eyes kept falling to a veiled woman in the corner across from them.

She had a Bindi upon her forehead and a ruby decoration dripping from her darkened hairline. Her eyes were dark and focused, he was sure she didn't miss anything in the room. She was so far back in the shadows that he couldn't really make anything else out about her other than she was Indian in race.

The sound of the door being pulled open caught Sheldor's attention.

His eyes flung to the new visitor and the demon in him purred. Bawe walked in without as much as a look around the pub. Sheldor looked over at Wolowix and rolled his eyes at how useless he was when he wasn't a crossbow. He got up and got behind the alchemist as he downs his beer. Bawe was shorter than Sheldor (as most people were) with short black hair and a steam-punk look to him. Long coat, big boots, metallic fibers traced all over his body, copper colored-lens goggles rested on top of his head, and tight leather pants with chains draped from them. The most discernible thing about Bawe Kwipke was his lips, he looked and sounded ridiculous, but not too many people who made fun of him lived past their first three laughs.

Bawe still had the cup tilted as he turned around. He choked on the gulp he had going and spewed into the cup as Sheldor loomed over him. Bawe coughed a little before rattling off, "Howwy Cwap!" Bawe reached back and put his cup down as he rubbed his hands with the condensation from the cup in his hand. Sheldor swallowed, he knew that an alchemist could perform lethal actions with just a drop of water so he clinched his armored arm and willed it to be ready for anything.

Bawe and Sheldor stared at one another and the drunken men around them peeled off and while the entire pub went silent. Wolowix patted one of the huge guys he was drinking with on the cheek with a very drunk hand and slurred, "Looks like shit just got real… 'scuse me fellas… gotta go die real fast. Ke-keep the beers cold…"

Sheldor raised his armored arm as he kept his eyes on the alchemist, "Hello, Kwipke… it's been far too long since I have seen you last."

Bawe smiled, "Oh yeah… When was dat… Oh wight… I was setting that wittle boy on fire and you were twying to put him out. Qwite a sad sight." He chuckled and Sheldor was none too impressed.

Sheldor took a step forward and Bawe readied himself. Sheldor's eyes were almost flaming black that only Bawe could see, as the witch hunter leaned down to where only Bawe could hear him, "I am only going to ask this once… Where's the witch's castle?"

Bawe laughed again and turned his back on Sheldor to finish his beer. Sheldor's instincts tingled and his left arm shot out by itself, slicing through the menacingly sharp beer-cicle that was aimed at his chest. The wood under Sheldor's feet launched him backwards and into the air and Bawe spun around where he stood with a snarl and threw his arms out in the air. The bar snapped and threw sharpened stakes right at him.

Wolowix acted fast. He reached his hand towards the floor and a large samurai extends from the wood and slices the stakes into splinters allowing Sheldor to recover by sliding across the dusty floor until his back hits the wall. Wolowix sent his samurai forward but Bawe raised his hands at his side, liquid from the kegs and bottles erupted out and drenched the samurai. With a wicked grin, the alchemist snapped his fingers, causing the warrior to erupt in flames.

Wolowix covered his face with a forearm then ran to Sheldor, "We need to take this outside before somebody gets hurt."

Sheldor nodded, "Then it's time we give Onar our signal." Sheldor lifted his armored arm to the side, it shot out and stretched like a whip as Wolowix backed up. He flung it at the flaming samurai and it wrapped around its waist. In a strong momentum, Sheldor flung the ball of flame through the wall of the pub's entrance and out into the street. The two men at the door looked in the gaping hole, then bolted leaving Onar to fill the space, "He was right... couldn't miss that."