Verita's Chronicles, The Dreamer

Chapter 4

Under the thick bark of the tavern, where the whispers of secrets and clandestine agreements
mingled with the muffled sounds of glasses being raised, was Mr. B's, or Ben's, room. It was a singular sanctuary, the heart of the Hole, as the initiates had nicknamed it. Rycaon, descending a century-old wooden staircase, felt the weight of history fall on his shoulders with each creaking step.

The door at the bottom of the stairs opened to a world of moving shadows and enigmatic sounds. Behind the second door, heavy objects seemed to come alive in a mysterious dance. Three knocks rang out, triggering a series of muffled noises – an object hitting the floor, hurried footsteps, the creaking of a mishandled chair.
-COME IN
A deep voice rang out, shaking the heavy air. A playful smile appeared on Rycaon's face as he walked through the door, revealing Ben. The man must have been in his forties, although Rycaon knew he was much older. He had a small mustache shaved on the sides and a black line of
beard going down his chin. His skin, dark brown, signified an origin from the northeast of
Nosur. He wore a black and white three-piece suit and leather gloves, not to mention a hat
decorated with ridiculous baubles to give it a "mystical" air.
-My lord the great master of spirits.
He declared, diving into a theatrical bow. Ben, mixing amusement and annoyance made him
sign to sit down.
-Fuck, Rycaon, it's just you. You scared me.
-Please forgive me, my lord.
-Stop making fun of me and come sit down.
Ben kicked a chair, releasing a dull echo. Rycaon, sitting gracefully,
let his gaze wander around the sanctuary-like room.
The place was not spacious, swallowed up by hundreds of objects piled up in boxes on the
ground, and perched on cracked shelves. These were no ordinary trinkets; books
ancestral cohabited with blunt weapons, bags full of rare materials,
strangely shaped animal furs, bottles of infinite colors, bones and a multitude of other curiosities. Next to the desk, a trapdoor hidden under a rug, probably coming from
from the northeast of Nosur, added a touch of exoticism and richness.
-I see you're having fun with the decor.
-Ah, the carpet. I got it from a trafficker from Eldoria in exchange for some small services that only
I can give back.
-What kind of services?
- The kind you tend to ask me, too. And I assume that's why you are
came.
- Yes, and William told me you wanted to see me. So what can I do for you, Ben?
- I told you to call me Mr.B. You're the only one who doesn't.
- Why do you insist so much on that name anyway?

- Well... actually, I prefer not to answer.
- It's because "Ben" doesn't seem serious enough for someone in your profession, right?
- Never mind.
Ben brushed the subject aside, leaned forward, and reneged on his offer.
- I have a job that I would like you to do for me.
- What kind of job?
- Riding a town of a few ghosts, nothing too complicated.
- Then do it yourself. It's your specialty, not mine.
- These ghosts are children.
- Ah, and since you're a sissy, you don't want to go.
- It's not because of that. Just that you know that between children and adults, there is a big
difference.
- Fine, and what would you be willing to give to not have to do your job?
- Yes, the price. I know you're more into money, but I have something else to offer you in exchange.
-Actually, I have something I'd like from you instead.
- Wait, first let me tell you my price.
Turning around, Ben took a wooden crate the size of a shoebox and placed it on the
office facing Rycaon.
- can you guess what's inside?
- I think so. Are these dolls?
- white and of superior quality.
- How much?
- I offer seven in exchange for this service.
- As many? Where is the trap?
- There are not any. I'm even willing to add one or two more items.
- No, actually, I need some information instead.
- What kind?
- A boy, around ten years old, with the ability to travel or appear in people's dreams.
others.
Hearing this, Ben's face went from calm to worried and curious. He leaned forward
crossing his arms on the table, every time Rycaon tried to find someone it was not
good news for the person, but a child was even more worrying.
- should I be worried about you getting me involved in this matter?
- It doesn't concern you. This is my price. I do your job in exchange, you find this kid, and I'll
also take the contents of this box since you offered it.

Rycaon still had his provocative smile that annoyed Ben, but he also had a look in his eyes, that of someone who had control over everything that happened, and he knew it. Rycaon is not a man with whom one wants to enter into conflict, unlike having him as a friend.
-Mm hm, I feel like this story is going to end badly, but I prefer that to going there myself.
-Perfect. So tell me where are these ghosts that I'm going to have to deal with?
-Well, actually, you'll laugh...
---
- Of all the existing regions of Lumea, he decided to send me to Irith, I said to myself
although the offer was too good to be honest.
- Well Mr. Rycaon, you have to take into account that you were the closest.
- Aren't you supposed to drive the cart and keep quiet?
- Well no, just Mr. B told me to take you to the village, that's all
-And this village is in the Irith region, which doesn't seem to make you stressed.
- Well, no, it's you sir who should be stressed, given your reputation I don't think that
Mister B sent it to you for tourism
The young man laughed, Rycaon had met him two days ago and he was already fed up. It was
dirty from head to toe, greasy, poorly cut blond hair, yellow teeth and ragged clothes.
Probably one of the "rats" that Ben tended to hire.
- Say, kid, what's your name again?
- Mika sir, I don't have a last name.
-And you often do work for Ben like that.
- Yep sir, the boss often asks me and my brothers to help Mr. B since we have
a cart and that we know the Irith region well.
- Your brother?
- Yes, my brothers.
Mika gave a little kick to the backs of the two donkeys that were pulling the old cart.
- Ah I see, I wish you good luck with such a sissy as an employer. You are going
drool.
Rycaon took out a small metal flask from his coat and took a quick sip of the drink from
inside, he felt the hot, strong liquid go down his throat and warm his body. Irith was one of the coldest areas of Lumea, some say it was because of the events that happened
took place here thousands of years ago, and since then the sun has refused to shine on the region. Rycaon didn't care, he just knew that it was probably the land with the highest number of appearances of pseudo-death beings, which gave him more work. It had been two days since he took this job for Ben and already he regretted it, and not without reason, people like him weren't welcome here.
- Mr. Rycaon, we have arrived at the village
- At the village ?

- The house is not very far in the forest, it was the mayor of this village who called on you and finally Mr. B who then called on you.
Looking in front of him, Rycaon saw a wall made of poorly cut and poorly maintained tree trunks with a large gate, only one of the doors standing. The houses were made of stone and wood, some with a straw roof, others in wood and the most refined with old tiles. This is the kind of village that you can often come across in Irith; its reputation as a haunted place means that travelers and walkers avoid it. Having no unique resources or specialties, the inhabitants often lived in small villages made with what was at hand and fed on the rare crops that survived here.
Rycaon emptied his bottle and took his head in his hands.
- Well, that sounds fun, let's hurry up and finish so we can leave here as quickly as possible.
- Yes sir.