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Side Story - Jyraiu - Chapter 1
🕑 Added 2020-07-11 15:19:51 +0000 UTCSide Story - Jyraiu - Chapter 1
“Hey, wake up. We’re nearly there,” the gruff voice said.
Jyraiu woke up with a headache. Cheap liquor really didn’t become him.
“Thanks for the drive,” he said, wincing as he felt the strain in his back. It wasn’t a surprise, having slept on sacks of potatoes.
The farmer laughed, showing a few missing teeth as he glanced back. “After such a performance, how could I say no?”
How indeed.
Hundreds of people had cheered as he presented his famous lotus, the phoenix topping even that. His name had been well known in the independent cities of the west but that had changed. Many things had changed.
He sighed as he came back to reality, looking for another bottle but finding nothing.
Self pity and rum. You’re becoming what you’ve always looked down upon.
He couldn’t help but cackle at that, lying back down as he looked at the clear sky above. The clouds at least hadn’t changed.
Elves, demons, war, he just wanted to go back to stable employment and income.
“You’re looking for work in the capital?” the farmer asked.
“Yes,” Jyraiu answered.
Virilya had been under siege for nearly a year but now its gates were open once more.
The old man laughed again. “You’re not the only one. It’s good they opened up again. Lots of business lost in the past year, it’s a shame.”
You’re lucky. Potatoes are needed everywhere.
“Adventuring work?” the man asked.
“Not exactly,” Jyraiu said.
“Hmm. But with your level and those fire spells, you’d be rich in a week!” the man said, demonstrating his lack of knowledge when it came to adventurers.
He didn’t reply, simply watching the various people on their way to the massive city.
The walls didn’t show any damage, despite the stories he had heard.
Maybe they just repaired it already, he thought.
Being an architect or earth mage was very lucrative right now but he didn’t much regret his own choices. The prospect of lumping around stone all day didn’t sound particularly engaging.
Would at least pay for a higher Class inn and better drinks, he thought.
His hopes weren’t particularly high either way. Riverwatch paid lousy gold for entertainers these days and in the Empire, the competition had simply been too high.
He knew he was as good if not better than many of the local mages showing off their craft but his fire based program required open space but even getting a license to perform in the central streets required gold and a reputation. The name he had made for himself in the west wasn’t enough.
Perhaps it had even been received badly.
Jyraiu knew what his art was worth, meaning he wouldn’t let himself be exploited like so many others.
Everyone lowers themselves just for a chance at fame, he thought, wondering how many of the people he saw around their cart were performers too.
Most looked like adventurers, many like former slaves from Baralia, either ready to take whatever job they would be given here.
And Virilya would eat them all up.
The nobles must be drooling at all the new meat for their companies and contests.
He wasn’t too annoyed. If he were in their position, he would do the same.
The entrance fee had been waived, meaning everyone could enter the city, no matter their state.
A way to repopulate after the siege, he thought.
The busy streets showed a different painting but he didn’t care much. Jyraiu was out of coin and this city would provide him with many opportunities.
All he had left was his old adventurer badge, the clothes and armor he wore, and his magic.
Employers were shouting near the entrance, presenting their opportunities to the many newcomers both in Jissu and Standard.
Only the stupidest and most desperate of them would actually take any of those jobs.
Guess if you’ve been a slave before, most everything here would sound amazing.
He had left the farmer behind, thanking him again for the ride but really, it was laughable as payment for seeing his art.
Jyraiu made for the closest Art Guild hall and found people queuing far out into the next street over.
Not the best sign, he thought but was reasonably sure he was better than them. The problem was that actual skill hardly mattered when it came to getting jobs.
This wasn’t a field like adventuring or the military where mistakes could mean death. All you had to do was put on a show. Any upstart noble interested in showing off their measly abilities would be granted a license, sometimes even entire halls to have shows in.
It really was a thankless job.
But it was better than the alternative.
One he simply didn’t want to think about. Not yet.
The wait was unsurprisingly quite long. Nearly two hours in the end.
“Next,” the woman said. She looked old, wore a monocle and had a stern look on her face.
Unlucky, he thought but seeing as there weren’t any other clerks dealing with the waiting applicants, it couldn’t be helped.
“Name, level, skills, and place of residence,” she said, ready with her pen.
“Jyraiu Alkamp, level one thirty six. Pyro Enhancer and fire sage, specializing in fireworks. I’ve made name for myself in the wester-” he said when the woman interrupted him.
“Just like everyone else, yes. You didn’t mention your place of residence? A nearby inn I assume?” she asked with a sigh.
“Yes ma’am,” he said.
“I’m afraid locals to both Virilya and Lys itself are prioritized for now. Do try again in a month or two. Good luck,” she said and motioned to the exit.
“Wh…. What? You can’t just send me away like some begging dog!” he called out.
The woman motioned to a few adventurers standing nearby, one of them already eyeing him.
“I’m afraid I can,” she said. “Be aware that performing without the required license will bring with it fees and with repeated offen-”
He was already walking out.
Fees here, fees there, licenses and rules. Salia was never this fucking annoying.
“Down on yer luck?” a random beggar said to him and cackled.
“Fuck you,” Jyraiu said.
“You wanna go pussy shit?” the man said.
[Warrior – lvl 89]
Jyraiu just left, ignoring the insults thrown at him by the drunkard. He wasn’t about to risk a confrontation with an ex soldier or adventurer. His own level was higher and he could fly but even if he won, burning a citizen wouldn’t exactly help his case.
He walked aimlessly through the city streets until he arrived in a dead end.
The trees here were blooming, the houses beyond visibly untouched by the war or demons before.
He glanced behind himself and spread his wings.
The high fence in front of the large mansion was no hurdle he couldn’t pass. He felt no enchantments when he passed the threshold.
Jyraiu found the door locked and instead stepped back. There you go, he thought, seeing one of the windows on the second floor slightly ajar.
A quick flight brought him to the window that he pushed open as silently as he could.
He stepped inside and hid below the frame. His heart was pumping as he checked his surroundings.
The furniture was intricately crafted, polished, and in parts even coated in various shades of red and gold.
Why did I even come here?
Am I really just a thief?
He wondered about that as he stood up and walked around the expansive office.
The curtains were made of fine silk, dark and heavy colors aiding the serious atmosphere. Paintings and even a mural on the walls showed battles long past. Man versus monster, man against man.
He saw crests and flags that held no meaning to him but surely represented centuries of history.
The layer of dust coating everything coupled with the leaves strewn about the veranda suggested the abandonment of this place but he couldn’t be sure.
What if I’m caught in a noble house? Me, a lowly performer famed in cities lost to Elven invaders.
He looked at the paintings and ground his teeth.
It was all he was to them. To the people with actual power and wealth. A thing to put on a wall, someone that helped pass the time for one evening.
Jyraiu was lost in thought when he heard the distinct sound of a blade cutting through air.
A man had appeared to his side, a single red curved blade slipping out of his hand before it slashed into the nearby wall.
“Who’re you?” he asked, a slight slur in his voice as he raised the empty bottle in his other hand.
[Warrior – lvl ??]
Shit.
“I.. I th-” Jyraiu started when the bottle hit him in the chest.
“I, I, I, you?” the man asked. “You break… into ooour home!?”
He stepped closer and pushed his finger onto his chest.
Jyraiu could smell the alcohol from a meter away, the man wearing nothing but a silk robe, his black hair disheveled and an unkempt beard growing on his face. His eyes were glassy and unfocused.
His chest hurt from the thrown bottle. He was lucky the man was drunk and had missed him with his first attack.
“I’m an artist!” he suddenly said. “I came to show off my performance.”
The man was closer now, a red energy manifesting around him.
“I will… ki-” the warrior said, tapping his chest again before his hand slipped down. “An artist?” he said suddenly and looked up. “Fine, come. Not here. This is my f… father’s study,” he said and laughed, walking to the wall and ripping out his sword before he nearly fell backwards.
“It’s mine to destroy,” the man said, his aura permeating the room as his power surged.
His eyes were still glassy but Jyraiu remained close to the wall, fearing for his life.
Why did I come here?
The man extended his sword towards him before he started laughing, stumbling to the side before he caught himself on a bookshelf. “Ah yes, art. Are you a painter? I dabble myself… mostly in blood.”
“Performance. Fireworks mostly,” Jyraiu said and bowed. “Jyraiu of the west.”
“The west… where west? Nipha? Or one of those shit towns that got destroyed?” the man asked with another laugh.
He opened the door to the study and walked out.
Jyraiu considered going for the window but he stopped himself.
This place is packed with expensive things. And he agreed to see my magic. Might be he has gold enough to pay my usual rate.
What better way to make some coin than taking advantage of a drunk nobleman down on his luck.
He smiled and followed, hoping the crazed warrior wouldn’t chose to kill him after all.
“I performed in all the independent cities but it’s been difficult lately, to find people interested in more than adventurers and soldiers,” he said as he followed the man down the stairs.
The man grabbed a random bottle from a cabinet downstairs, opening the thing in an instant before he downed half its contents. It took a few seconds.
“Such a saaad fate,” the man said in a mocking tone, laughing when he saw his expression. “Don’t be such a frown. Worse fates than being a poor fucking performer.”
Gods I hate this man.
“Come then, why not here. Tis a great hall!” the man exclaimed and walked into a large hall.
A long table that would surely be suitable for extensive banquets stood in the middle of the hall. More paintings and crests covered the walls.
This time Jyraiu recognized one of them. The color in his face drained as he gulped.
“Oh that?” the man asked, pointing at the large crest. “Our legacy!” he said and gulped down the rest of his bottle, throwing the empty thing at the crest. “Fuck it.”
Redleaf, Jyraiu thought. One of the known noble houses. Who is this man then?
He racked his brain for the information he was looking for but found nothing.
“Fetch me another,” the man said, his tone serious as he plopped down on a random chair.
“Yes, sir, mister Redleaf,” he said and rushed to find the nearest cabinet.
