Chapter 111: The Marketplace

“So what is our goal?” Iris asked nervously. Looking around her, she was the only child around, well, Orion was also here, but he was a lot more mature than she was; he was practically an adult.

Plus, besides her and him, everyone here was of the Seeker rank at least. So what were the two readers supposed to do in this important mission? And how did her father even allow this?

She wasn’t mad that she was going back to the Withered, since she was still weirdly attracted to that place, like some chains guiding her to something, but at the same time, from her experience, she had grown to be quite scared of the place.

’At least father lent me his armor.’

A reader wearing a Devourer rank armor… it was absurd, but The King wanted to possibility of her being harmed, so he had given her his own armor, which he had gotten after many long battles and pain.

It was one of the few relics of the Devourer rank, and the only armor with that class. There wasn’t even a human with that class, so you could get the gist of its power. It had many abilities, all to her disposal, but her father advised her not to try anything. To activate an ability of a relic requires essence, and she doubted she had enough.

The armor was gigantic, to fit her father, but luckily, it could change how it looked, and so, to best fit her, they decided on light armor so it was easier for her to run if something happened. And it didn’t matter if some parts of her body were revealed, since the relic had a passive barrier around her.

Avius turned to her with a serious gaze that only made her even more nervous. It wasn’t common to see her teacher like this, which couldn’t mean anything good.

“Our goal? It’s to find the Abyss, capture, or, if something goes wrong, kill it. And of course, to stop the Withered from being destroyed.”

…

She had to do what? To save the district from being destroyed? But how was she supposed to do that? And just what was this Abyss? She had only learned of its existence recently, and now it seemed that the main focus of the kingdom was to find it?

If it was really the fifth god, why didn’t they learn about it at the academy? And if it was so dangerous, why did they wait until now to try and capture it? And was it really needed to get so many people for one person?

…”I see… how strong is the Abyss?”

The old wizard chuckled at how little she knew.

“The Abyss is strong, the question is rather, how strong its Vessel is.”

He then looked back at the window to see how they entered the Withered. It was an amazing sight to see how the world changes so fast, the difference between the worlds. He crossed himself, reminding himself of his time in this place, and being grateful for living in the world blessed by Praise.

“And, do you know how strong it is? I mean, I’m only a Reader, and the other two are Readers too.”

He looked with the corner of his eye at Iris, who seemed to be quite interested in learning more about who the Vessel of the Abyss was. Sadly, no one knew any information about him.

Only that he was alive.

“We don’t know. But what we do is that he’s somewhere in the Withered, a place full of shadows, and people who hope desperately for a chance of salvation. This place is basically its home, so we have to be careful.”

Praise rewards those who hope, and for those who don’t, it gives them a chance to do so. It’s magical, hope is wonderful. But when you hope for something that you know you will never achieve, you become desperate; that is the same for the people of the Withered.

They hope for a chance to leave this place, to live a normal life, to get to the Blue Rose, knowing that something like this isn’t possible, but since it’s the only thing that keeps them going, they cling to this hope with sorrow, grief, and desperation.

And the Abyss knows better than all how to take advantage of that hope. It’s why it can bring a district to its feet so easily.

The people of the Withered are going to be its pawns, making their lives harder…

But they came prepared.

It’s one of the reasons they brought Iris with them.

She was the Vessel of the God that blessed the place they so wished to come to. If they saw her and learn about who she was, they would worship her and take their part. As their hope will finally be answered.

But it was dangerous, since he wasn’t sure how the others would react. There will be those whose hope has become their life, and don’t want to let go, not accepting her as the Vessel of their God. Others will come to them, but without a new anchor, they would just be lifeless pawns.

But those who are able to adapt… they will fight for the Abyss with all their power.

The question was whether they could beat the Abyss at its own game. Well, rather, it’s Vessel.

…

And he thought that he had a great chance at doing so.

…

…

Whenever they reached their destination, they got up from their seats, got out of the carriage, and stepped into the marketplace.

…

The people called it the Spine of the Withered; it had no name, yet carried the weight of those who came to it. Stretching for miles beneath a roof of hanging metal arcs, enormous constructs of tarnished slives that corsed each other like veins in a god’s decaying heart. From them hang chains, lanters that light the marketplace, trying to make it separate it from the rest of the district. And many banners that were too wet to even more, each bearing the crest of shops long dead.

The ground was a sign of its history, of its eras. From parts paved in obisian slabs, the era it is in now, to others in cracked marble, and some in wood wrapped by constant rain. Every inch was uneven; it was something that never changed. The surface gleamed with the reflection of dull flamelight and the sheen of water. Between the stones, steam rose from grates carved with its intricate sigils, a faint warmth fighting the cold fog that covered the whole district.

The stalls themselves were built upward, tier upon tier, until the market resembled a vertical city of its own. The lowest levels… There was only chaos going on there, the lowest of the lows, makeshift shacks, tarps, open fires, narrow bridges connecting roofs like webbing. Above them rose galleries of carved stone, their arches filled with glass too clouded to see through, their balconies crowded with nobles and merchants in cloaks, hiding their faces to the world. Higher still, iron bridges cut through the mist, lined with guards carrying halberds wrapped in black cloth that kept them from rusting under this endless rain. Like everything else had.

There was a strange order that no one could explain. Near the games were the cheapest charms, raw fish, and burnt bread. In the mid-tier halls, relics were sold, the deeper the better, relics, poisons, and even traders who sold information about names and faces. Yet, far below, in the drowned levels, where light never reached, things that had no business existing.

Relics created by breaking the system, people to hire when you needed someone dead, and many more.

Every sound was magnified, the clatter of coins, the his of fire. The rain that never seemed to stop, that has cursed their land for as long as they could remember. Yet the marketplace was alive regardless.

This was the marketplace, the glory of the Withered, and the only thing that kept it alive. If you needed something, you had the best chance of finding it here.

But they weren’t here for relics, rather information, and if it was the cause, someone to try and find the Abyss.

But for now, they went to the mid-tier halls, finding the first merchant who sold information, and approached him.

Avius took out a cloth with a mark drawn on it. The mark of the Abyss.

“Have you seen this mark around, or rather, someone who bears it?”

He kept it hidden from the rest, so that only he, Keres, and the merchant would see it.

“Hm… while I have seen it around, on many walls and others, I’ve never seen someone who bears this mark on their body. What is it even?”

Avius sighed, leaving and searching for another who might have information.

This continued for a while, but to no avail, meaning they were going to find everything themselves.

…

…

As they were going back to the first levels of the marketplace, Avius noticed a figure standing in one of the many arcs. It had a long cloak, so that way not even its face was not visible.

He didn’t mind it too much attention, but as he was about to look away, it rolled its sleeve…

revealing the mark they were searching for.

’The Abyss.’

Without wasting a second, even with his old bones, he rushed, trying to get to him. But before he could even get there, it had already disappeared into the darkness, making it impossible for him to follow.

The shadows were his home after all.

…

“At least one thing is for sure now, and not just some joke, The Abyss is alive, somewhere here in the Withered.”

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