The Burden Of Knowledge [Job/Solo]

Another day, another job. This one in particular wasn't too difficult, all he had to do was pick up a book, and bring it to the owner. Simple enough, five thousand jewels seemed to be enough to satisfy Artemis that a tedious task like this was worth it. His bank was growing significant more well-funded. Enough so that, he was confident that things weren't so bad branching out on his own. He had even avoided using him magic, which was great. The less of Morte he had to deal with the better. All was going well enough, that he was currently concluding that joining a guild and taking jobs had been the right course of actions. It was comforting not to have any regrets in his decisions for once. Although it wasn't so much his day to day activity that filled him with regret. His party lifestyle suited him well, getting drunk and dating girls. There was no reason to complain at that. No his regret lay solely in his magic, the decision he had made as a child to take a demons power. A foolish and impulsive decision, one he couldn't take back.
Art arrived at Written Antiquities, like much of Crocus, it was a grand building. It wasn't surprising, books were a key source of knowledge in their mysterious world. Magic available in thousands of shapes and forms deduced to pen and paper. Art wondered if he had taken more to books as a child maybe his magical abilities would have been different. Maybe he wouldn't have had to go to the demon for help. Maybe he could have turned down the offer, but ten again. If he had declined Morte, would Morte have eaten his soul out of spite.

"Probably."

There is was, that voice,  that cruel cold voice. Art stiffened at it, Morte had been quiet for a while. So it was easy to forget that he was there, always listening, always watching. A demon watching his every thought. Ignoring his comment Art made his way into the bookstore. His demeanour calm on the outside, but shaken inside. As expected, the walls were filled with endless amounts of books, going on for as far as the eyes could see endlessly. He eyed them as he made his way over to the welcome desk. He could never have studied his way to power, he had been too much of a brat. Even he wasn't so arrogant as to forget that fact, that's why he had taken the easy route, the fools route.

He approached the desk, reaching into his pocket he pulled out a folded square of paper. It was a letter from Mr Rellock, authorising him to collect the book on his behalf. He placed the paper on the desk, 

"I'm here to collect." 

He said his tone flat and disinterested. If anything was going to put him in a mood, it was Morte's little snide reminders that he was there. The demon enjoyed the way he made Art feel, lapped it up. Art was a toy whose emotions he could play with. The receptionist took the note and read it. 

"Ahh of course, Mr ...Dagger is it? I'll go fetch it for you." 

The reception stood and turned, disappearing behind columns of bookshelves. Art waited, leaning on the desk, he tapped his fingers on the table. The place was pretty quiet all things considered, a few people reading, some browsing. Everything was done in a hush tone as was expected of a library. There was however a few oddballs, some figures in black cloaks, not reading or browsing, just standing around silent. Art looked down at his fingers, waiting a moment, before shooting a look across the room at them. 


They quickly shuffled to look away, just as he thought, they were watching him. Interesting... He thought, before glancing away from his observers. So this wasn't just another book, there was more to it than that. There was something about this book, something important. What did they attend to do, would they just watch, or would they attempt to take it from him when he left. Perhaps he would need to fight after all. 

After a few moments, the receptionist returned, book in hand. They handed the book over, asking Art to sign a release form. He took the pen and scribbled his name. Before scooping the book under his arm, turning and leaving. He stared straight ahead, aware of the multitude of eyes following him. They were definitely watching him. Art pulled open the doors, once more stepping into the cool breezy outdoors. He strode forward, no falter in his step. He ears listening out for the sound of following steps. After a short while, he could hear them. At first they were quiet but as he continued to travel, the more reckless they became. The market in crocus was still open, albeit not for much longer. Art pretended to peruse the stalls, as if he was in no rush to return the book. Another who knew anything about him knew they was most accurate anyhow. The more he looked the more he winded in and out of the stalls, making stalking him an increasingly difficult task. 

Their footsteps became heavier, more intense, he couldn't help but grin. Enjoying their little game of cat and mouse, except this kitten wasn't catching nothing tonight. Finally he darted into a corner, an hidden alleyway that he knew. In their rushed efforts the followers ran in, only to find him standing there, book twirling in hand looking directly at them.

"Is there a reason you're following me gentlemen?" He asked, his tone playful, daring them to admit it. The men look taken aback, clearly shocked by his trick. They exchanged glances, stuttering amongst themselves, Until finally one spoke. 

"Sorry, we thought you were someone else." Art smirked, tucking the book under his arm once more.

"Good, I'll be on my way then. I'll expect I wont be seeing any more of you tonight." His tone although calm, was laced with the threat that if he did see them again, things would not bode well. Art didn't flaunt his abilities, but something about him made you wary. Cautious, he was not someone you took a risk with, these men could tell that much. They parted, allowing Art to walk through him, he turned back into the market. Not giving them another look as he made his way over to a carriage bay. 

"Oak town," he said to the nearest available driving, paying the man, he climbed into the back. Within moments, the horses reared and off they went. Art's stalkers kept their promise and he didn't see them again. 

END