The Retrieval Scavenger and the Inner Beauty Retrieval · 2017. 1. 28. · Scavengers of Ditbard...

Scavengers of Ditbard The Retrieval Scavenger and the Inner Beauty Retrieval 1/20/17

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The Retrieval Scavenger and the Inner Beauty Retrieval

There were two things Feryn disliked. The first was the collection of tourists who inevitably lingered at the statue of Rosebird, disrupting the flow of commerce and making general trading more obnoxious than it should have been. The second was meeting with an unknown client who did not seem to think it prudent to give potential employers enough information. Unfortunately, both of those things were occurring in tandem that afternoon. The Black Market was buzzing considering how late in the day it was. The busy hours had long passed, which was why Feryn preferred her own meetings to occur this late. The less Scavengers around, the better. Perhaps it was Gorcz’s fault for being so unruly and having no code with which to interact with others, or perhaps it was simply that other Scavengers did not trust the Retrieval class of Scavenger, but whatever the reason, the tension in the Black Market never failed to soar to unprecedented heights whenever Feryn was sighted. The notoriety would have been nice had it not made her job that much harder. Stealing things was fine in the night, in the shadows, when no one was watching, but as soon as one Scavenger saw her, the rest were notified as if their words traveled on the wind. It was a good thing Feryn was so good at her job. She would never have any business otherwise. On Ditbard, reputation meant everything, and Feryn had fought hard for her own. There were no other Retrieval Scavengers who were capable of the things she could do, and everyone knew that. They also knew her prices were steep, but if you wanted something bad enough, it was worth seeking her out. Just as this client had done. She walked through the Black Market toward The Lampcur. Private meeting spaces were hard to come by. Well, private meeting spaces in which other people were comfortable were hard to come by. Being a thief, despite being one who was sought after, meant she could not be trusted. It was inconvenient, perhaps, but it was a small price to pay considering the boons she


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received from her successful ventures. The Lampcur was a nice enough place, she supposed. It was certainly spacious enough, and though the menu selection was not quite suited to her palette, Feryn enjoyed Greener’s selection of wines, especially the ones imported from Jurconia. Unlike the rest of the population on Ditbard, Greener enjoyed Feryn’s company. Feryn had asked once, many years ago, why Greener – a woman who demanded order and took no quarter – enjoyed spending time with someone who was universally hated by everyone else. Greener had laughed, her whiskers had flicked back and forth for a second or two, and then she had leaned across the bar, winked one large, green eye, and said, “Better to be an honest thief than a lying merchant.” The door to The Lampcur swung open with a push, and the noise from within greeted Feryn like the deafening tides that covered most of Ditbard’s second moon. Those sitting closest to the door turned to see who had entered. Most were humans, but even they had recognition in their eyes. One had interest flashing in his too-blue gaze (a product of beauty enhancement, for certain), but the rest looked at Feryn with distrust. Humans were paranoid creatures. Even though Feryn only stole when she was being paid to, they were constantly clutching their money pouches tighter to their bodies, or laying a hand on whatever weapon was holstered at their side. She moved past them without pause. The rest of the patrons glanced at her with varying levels of interest and expectation. Feryn ignored them all and continued toward the staircase tucked away in the back-right corner of the main room. Movement in the dark corner caught her eye as she placed her hand on the rail. “Good afternoon, Merkle,” Feryn said. Her eyes unerringly found the shifting shape of the obscure Shadow Scavenger, picking him out from among the other shadows lingering beneath the stairs. “Well met, Feryn of the Retrieval Scavengers.” The glint of his red eyes could barely be seen amongst the darkness and deep blue of his cloak, even as he appeared to become more solid. “You have business here, I presume?” “I am certainly not here for the dining.” Merkle laughed, a sound somewhere between a choking chortle and the harsh burn of metal clashing against metal. “Be wary, Feryn of the Retrieval Scavengers. They are watching you tonight.” And he was gone, shimmering into non-existence amongst the shadows. Feryn sighed softly, a barely-there exhale that did not even disturb the dust motes floating in the air. Merkle was dramatic, but he never spoke without purpose. If he said they were watching her, then they were most certainly watching her. It was not a prophecy, Shadow Scavengers had no talent with fortune-telling, but it was truth. Merkle, for all his faults, never lied. That was the only reason Feryn had any amount of respect for him, and he in return for her. No, it was not a prophecy, but it was as frustratingly obscure as the ones offered


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by the human magi that toured the universes in caravans, offering fortunes and promises that were empty and false. Feryn had no idea who they were, but she was very much on guard as she began the climb to the second floor. The staircase was wooden, but it shifted and moved as if it were sand beneath her feet. For others, it would be difficult to maneuver, but Feryn, and most other Scavengers, were fleet of foot, if they walked at all. Her eyes moved from one side of the balcony to the other as she reached the top. It was empty save for a lone human standing at the far end, leaning on the banister, and watching the proceedings of the eatery below him. Feryn turned and headed down the first hallway to her right. The room she always used was halfway down the hall and on the left. Room 47. The panel beside the door pulsed a blue light at Feryn as she stopped in front of it. Her client was already waiting within. She raised a slender, gray arm and waved it one time, left to right in front of the flashing light. It stopped, emitted one red pulse, and then the door slid open. Feryn stepped inside of the lavishly-decorated room. A round table, gleaming black and surrounded by equally-black chairs, took up most of the space. A window in the back looked out over the Eastern Deserts of Ditbard that stretched as far as the eye could see. There was a couch and an armchair, both of plush material and continuing the trend of being dark in color, arranged in a corner for a more intimate conversation. Her client was seated at the table, and judging by the way she bounced her leg up and down, she was extremely nervous. Feryn moved deeper into the room and paused at the chair opposite the table from her. She knew, instantly, what this woman wanted her to retrieve. Aside from the rapid, nervous motion of her leg, the woman was as still as the statue of Rosebird standing guard outside the Black Market’s entrance. She was human, but her eyes were filled completely gray, the pupil and iris both absorbed by the neutral shade. She had been beautiful once, and that was obvious, but something was missing. Something from the inside. Someone had sent an Enthrall Scavenger to steal this woman’s inner beauty, leaving the husk of her body a colorless, emotionless shell. It also explained why she had been adamant that Feryn be the one to help her. It was true that she was the best at her job, but she was also the most expensive. Most beings that sought something stolen from them preferred to risk a failed retrieval rather than shell out the exorbitant price that Feryn demanded. There were those, though, who valued what they had lost far more than anything Feryn would demand of them. Currency only went so far. “Do you know the name of the Enthrall that took it from you?” Feryn asked. The woman shook her head, the motion slow and steady – a sharp contrast to the jittery movement of her leg beneath the table. Feryn nodded and slid into the chair she had been standing beside. “And do you understand that the Enthrall only took something from you that you were not using in the first place?” The woman opened her mouth, closed it again, and then nodded.


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Feryn sighed. “What are you prepared to pay for me to retrieve your inner beauty?” “I did not realize I had anything worth stealing,” the woman said. Her voice was as dispassionate and dull as the rest of her appearance. “The disenchanted rarely do,” Feryn said, “but that is not an answer to the question I asked.” “My husband died in the mines of Nafarr. Our only child had been a stillborn six months prior. The mine collapsed.” She paused, briefly. “He did not survive.” The sadness such a story would normally create was nowhere to be found in the woman’s voice. “Nafarr is on the edge of the Guinnotionian galaxy. You have traveled far to find what was taken from you.” Feryn slid her arms into the sleeves of her robe, the crimson color billowing about her. “What are you prepared to pay?” “I do not have enough money to hire you, but I was told that you often accept alternative forms of payment.” Feryn nodded. “If it suits you,” the woman paused, and a flicker of emotion flashed across her face, something dark and mournful, “I offer you the spirit of my stillborn child.” Feryn had had many clients offer her many things. Her home in the Rekovir Mountain Range far west from the Black Market was lined with various payments she had earned. Jars of screams from races across the universes lined one set of shelves, the fin from a rare Larkon whale adorned her mantle, and dozens of other, priceless items decorated the rooms. She had not, however, been given something as precious and rare as the spirit of a stillborn child. “Are you certain?” she asked. A woman not carrying a child to term was not uncommon on the outer planets. The atmospheric levels of gases shifted so often that the unborn child had to be durable, and the mother had to be immensely strong, to survive it. A spirit lingering long enough to be collected was rare. Such souls were pure, untouched by anything in the world. Their power was great, and their worth even greater. “Yes. Living like this…” The woman trailed off, and Feryn nodded. It was similar, in a way, to humans that had been disconnected from their souls. They were undoubtedly one of the weaker races among the many that populated this system, but they held something inside of them that no other being possessed. It made them more vulnerable to attack, but also gave them a richer life. They were not the only creatures to have souls, but theirs changed them. It gave them more. Inner beauty was vastly similar. Though Enthrall Scavengers only took the beauty that was not being used, it left the human in a state of shock. Feryn had seen it happen only once. At first, nothing changed, but slowly, the human realized something was missing. Something they had not even known existed inside them was gone, and they changed. After enough time, they became like this woman: gray, colorless, desperate to be reunited with


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what they had lost. It did not matter to this woman that, once her color was restored her sadness would be as well, because she could only see the empty, blank future that stretched ahead of her. “I accept your terms,” Feryn said. As one, they both rose from their seat and moved to stand beside each other. The woman held out her hand, Feryn slid her arm into the woman’s grasp. They shook. A murky, green color, like shifting smoke, moved beneath their skin. From the fingers, it spread, reaching up to the elbow and then stealing across into the neck. It was a bind of trade – insurance that, should Feryn succeed, she would be paid what she had been promised. No Scavenger began a job without performance of the rite. “Go home, woman of Nafarr. I will find your inner beauty and return it to you.” Again, that almost-emotion flickered across the woman’s face, but it was gone again as quickly as it had come. “Thank you, Feryn.” “There is no need to thank me. I work for payment. The soul of your child is all the gratitude I require.” The traffic in the Black Market was beginning to thin out when Feryn made her way back out of The Lampcur. Finding any Scavenger this late in the day was based on luck alone. There was no set pattern once the initial rush of commerce was over. Some Scavengers loitered around, either waiting for last-minute business prospects or just spending time with those they considered friends. Some Scavengers preferred not to be around beings of any sort, and were quick to leave once they had concluded whatever they had come to market to do. Enthrall Scavengers were not the loitering type, but sometimes, if the seeker was lucky, one or two would linger long enough to talk for a moment before they moved on to other purposes. Feryn took her time, moving leisurely between the shops as she searched. Movement to her left caught her eye, and she slid between two buildings. Dealing with Enthrall Scavengers was no easy task. They were used to only serving a high class of client, and so dealing with other Scavengers, particularly those that took things from them, was not something they looked forward to. “I need to speak with you,” Feryn said. The barely-visible form of the Enthrall Scavenger floating in the shadow of the shop to the left bristled slightly. A rippling of color in the darkness. Feryn moved closer, and another Enthrall shimmered in the black. Ribbons of pastel colors waved at her as they moved closer. “We do not conduct business with any Retriever Scavenger,” one said, his voice deep and raspy, as if he had dragged the syllables over broken glass. “You do with this one,” Feryn said. “We know who you are, Feryn of the Retrievers,” the other one said, voice slightly softer, but just as deep.


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“We do not conduct business with any Retriever Scavenger,” the first one repeated. Feryn sighed, a gesture more physical than vocal. “I am not in the habit of taking ‘no’ for an answer,” she said. One of the Enthralls sneered, his face shifted in a most unpleasant, grotesque manner, as if something had slithered inside his ear and was causing quite a lot of discomfort. “The Counsel is watching,” he said. “You would not dare do anything to risk their judgment.” Feryn grinned, her lips twisted up, red and blue winding together before her mouth opened, revealing three, fine rows of sharp teeth. “The Counsel,” she said, “are nothing more than pompous fools, more intent on filling their pockets than exacting any sort of legitimate justice. Do you really think I have not done my part in ensuring they look the other way when I come through the Market?” A vendor’s head popped up in the shop window. Both Enthralls turned to look, but Feryn did not bother. “My purpose is to steal back things that have already been stolen. In all reality, Enthralls, I am more lawful than you.” One of them bristled at that. His eyes narrowed to thin, black slits. “We do not have the inner beauty you are seeking, regardless, Feryn. Your luck has run out this day.” He was smug, if enraged. The thing about Enthrall Scavengers was that, when one dealt with vanity as they typically did with their clients, the Scavenger became vain itself. You thought yourself better than everyone else, higher ranked than everyone else, and with the wealth these Scavengers tended to accrue, they imagined themselves to be the top of the chain in the Black Market. The vain also tended to think themselves smarter than others, and that was why Feryn never trusted an Enthrall. Well, really, she never trusted anyone. Ditbard was a beautiful place, but beautiful places were just like beautiful beings – deadly. “It is beneficial to you that honesty is not a necessity in your line of work,” Feryn said. Her arms resting at her sides, she began to walk around the Enthralls in a slow circle. They turned, following her movements. She could feel the tension rising as she circled. Their bodies appeared more and more ethereal, as if they were going to simply vanish. That was not a trick Enthralls could pull, but it did make extracting anything from them much more difficult, like wrestling with smoke. On her next lap around them, her movements never becoming rushed, Feryn’s eyes flicked to the main thoroughfare through the Market. A Scream Scavenger had paused on her way out, presumably to watch the proceedings. It was rare for one Scavenger to get into the business of another, but it could happen. No one, however, wanted to mess with the Retrieval Scavengers. It was a bit like grabbing the tail of a wild beast with the intent to save your friend who was an inch from its snapping jaws, only to have the beast turn on you and devour your arm instead. Nasty business.


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“As if you are a beacon of truth,” Pillu, the Enthrall with the rough voice, said. “I do not lie,” Feryn said. The ache of emptiness began in her chest. It was a peculiar feeling every time, and no matter how often she Retrieved, it still felt strange. A cold so frozen it felt like fire. A biting wind rushing through her veins and trying to tear her apart. “I have learned that truth hurts far more than a lie ever could.” There were no outward signs that Feryn was about to Retrieve. Nothing glowed, moved, or swirled. No colors fluctuated. It was all internal. Everything she did was centered inside of herself. Sometimes, she almost wished it was not that way. Sometimes, she wished she could interact with others and not have to take something from them. Thinking like that, though, helped no one. Thinking like that could get her killed. One of the Enthralls began to back away, its body moving in fluid motions. “We do not have it.” Feryn laughed, the sound bitter and devoid of humor. “If you think I have gained the reputation I have by believing every Scavenger that tried to deny what it possessed, then you are more of a fool than I thought.” The coldness was filling her more and more, taking over her body until it felt like each movement of her lungs was laborious. The air felt thick. “I know what you have had, Enthrall. I can practically smell it on you. Perhaps you do not possess the Inner Beauty of this woman now,” she paused, inhaling slowly, “but you did.” “So, you understand that we have nothing for you to Retrieve.” The first Enthrall spoke again, his temper obviously rising. “You are wasting your time and ours.” “Who was the Receiver?” “You cannot expect us to remember all of our clients.” “More lies,” she hissed. “A woman, but you will never be able to get it back from her,” the first one said. “She is of the Royal line on planet Marvotta. Retrieving from her is as good as asking her guard to kill you.” “You knew my name when I came over here,” Feryn said. The Enthralls looked confused for a moment before the first one replied, “Yes, of course.” “Do you know why that is?” She did not give them time to answer. “I have done things that no other Retriever can do. I have performed feats I was told I could not perform. I have successfully completed jobs that no one believed could be completed.” Slowly, she let her power fade away, the cold bleeding from her limbs until she only felt the warmth of the stale air that surrounded this part of Ditbard. “I will retrieve the Inner Beauty of my client, and I will leave one of the Royals of Marvotta with the physical appearance she originally held.”


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The forests of Marvotta were legendary among the universes. Firstly, because of their size; they took up 90% of the planet. Secondly, because of their trees; they were immensely thick and reached over 500 feet up. Thirdly, and most unfortunately, because of their inhabitants; more species of monsters existed in the forests of Marvotta than on the rest of the planets in the Guinnotionian galaxy. Whether it had been decided out of tactical genius or stupidity Feryn was not sure, but for one reason or another, the castle that housed the Coranvale Royal family was in the middle of one of the biggest forests on the planet. Feryn was no stranger to the woods of Marvotta, but that hardly meant she was safe. One could traverse them a hundred times over, and still wind up slaughtered, devoured, or dismembered. The line of trees had broken the oppression of the forest long ago, but Feryn was still moving toward the castle. It was a smart thing to keep the forest back from the castle walls, but she imagined it was a difficult thing to maintain. At times, the forests seemed to be sentient. One of Marvotta’s three moons was high overhead. Feryn was lucky it was Naobi instead of one of the other two, since Naobi was the darkest and reflected the least amount of light. The Guard was patrolling around the castle, but Feryn was quiet and quick. No one ever wanted to have their prizes stolen, so she had to be fast and silent if she wanted to be successful in any way whatsoever. She waited until the next guard walked past and then slipped inside. The castle was still in motion. Servants and guards moved through the corridors, the occasional clanking of steel on the stone, the sound ricocheting off the walls until it sounded like an entire army was moving through the halls. Moving from shadow to shadow, Feryn found her way up to the higher levels of the castle. The Royal in question could be any of a number of women, considering, on Marvotta, the Royal line was passed down through the females. Generations upon generations of this tradition had given them a predisposition to have more females than males. Still, it was not going to be too difficult for her to figure out which one had sought out an Enthrall. There was always something off about the way a being felt when they had taken something that did not belong to them. It was rather like finding the one sunbeam amongst many that burned the brightest and the hottest; she simply had to sort through the others to find the right one. She followed that trail of warmth through the castle until she came to a closed door. It swung open at her touch. The still, sleeping form of a young woman was lying prone on the bed, her dark hair a tangled mess on her pillow. Feryn moved closer, peering down into her face. It was not a young woman at all; she merely appeared to be one. It was the Duchess of Marvotta, a woman of middle age, who was obviously much older than she currently appeared. Feryn was little more than a shadow as she moved toward her until she was standing directly beside the bed. Again, she


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called on that coldness within her, summoning it from her chest and letting it fill her. One arm extended, the gray disappearing into the dark shadows of the room. The barest hint of light filtered through the window, but its beams rested uneasily on the floor, not daring to try and stretch farther than that. Retrieving was not painful, despite the rumors that circulated about the process – mostly fear mongering and other Scavengers wanting to turn Retrieval Scavengers into pariahs in the hopes that their jobs would become more difficult. If the Duchess was a deep sleeper, she would not even wake. She probably would not even stir at all. Once her first hand made contact with the Duchess’s shoulder, she lifted the other, pressing her hand against the female’s forehead. “You have taken what does not belong to you. Now, it will be Retrieved.” Feryn’s voice was too soft to be heard. It was merely a whisper to be felt across the skin, brushing over the Duchess’s ear and seeping into her unconscious mind. Slowly, the cold that consumed Feryn began to recede. She pulled. Her hands still rested lightly on the Duchess’s body, but now they were resting there with intent. They were there with a purpose. She pulled, and pulled, and pulled again, each like a deep inhalation filling lungs that had been empty for so long they had nearly forgotten what they were meant to do; and each pull took a little more of the Inner Beauty out of the Duchess and into Feryn. Unlike any other being that accepted such a presence within itself, Retrieval Scavengers could physically manipulate the traits they consumed, storing them in one place rather than letting them run rampant all through their body, adhering to them. When all the Inner Beauty had been consumed, Feryn released the Duchess from her touch. Now, instead of the young female, the Duchess’s true form could be seen. Among the females on Marvotta, she was one of the most beautiful, but apparently, the Duchess had rejected her aging self. That was something Feryn simply did not understand. She left the castle as quietly and unobserved as she had entered it, and keeping a careful hold on the Inner Beauty, she began to make her way to Nafarr. It would be a long journey, but well worth the travel expenses. It was funny, in a way, that a creature as wealthy and powerful as the Duchess of Marvotta would seek to change herself. Perhaps she thought the price an Enthrall Scavenger demanded was paltry; a worthy sacrifice for beauty. Feryn knew better. Beauty did not matter nearly as much as power, and power was precisely what she was going to receive from the spirit of the woman’s unborn child. She supposed royalty did not think the same. Then again, Feryn was not blind. She knew the world, and she knew its inhabitants better than most. She knew vanity could make monsters out of any creature.


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Copyright © 2017 by Fay Michelsen

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing by Fay Michelsen.

Feryn, Retrieval Scavenger Merkle, Shadow Scavenger

Pillu, Enthrall Scavenger

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The Retrieval Scavenger and the Inner Beauty Retrieval · 2017. 1. 28. · Scavengers of Ditbard...

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