Spirits

Chapter 3

She was definitely a sorceress, that much was obvious, Caspar thought. There really weren't that many magically inclined people in the world, and most of them were fairly well known. Cedric the Sage, he'd been a good old chap, lived just a few blocks down from Caspar actually. Sadly he'd passed away about a year or so ago. He'd been close with the Assembly of Lords, as most sorcerers tended to be close to the governing power of whatever country they presided in.

There were of course, the rogues, ones that did not affiliate themselves with any power or party, such as this woman had obviously been. They always made governments nervous and had to be careful they kept a low a profile, otherwise there might be trouble.

Caspar bought a bagel and a cup of tea from a street cart as he made his way down towards the wharfs. Come to think of it...maybe there are more sorcerers and sorceresses than we think, they're just so low key that we don't know about them...

It was interesting that a revolutionary group had a sorceress on their side. More interesting was all the things she'd claimed that Vetris was neglecting or in fact officiating. Was it true?

Caspar took a momentary breather and leaned against a light pole to cough for a minute. After he'd got his breath back he wiped the tears from his eyes and sighed. It was probably true. Vetris seemed the type too smart and cunning to let his power as leader go unused outside of The Assembly. Just thinking about it made Caspar sick.

What can I do? He doubted Vetris would do anything much to change his ways. And even though he knew he had probably been less that virtuous in his business lately, Caspar still hated the idea of something bad happening to him. They'd been friends in the Assembly for as long as Caspar could remember. Which...well, maybe that wasn't saying much.

Besides that, the threat of rioting wasn't good at all. Rioting made areas unstable and unsafe, and at his age, Caspar would definitely prefer it if things stayed quiet.

The wharf was bustling today; Caspar had to push his way through a crowd of people just to make his way to his destination. At the edge of the cobblestone street was an old wooden bench that sat overlooking the sea. Caspar plopped down with a sigh before drawing his coat tighter around himself. The sea was choppy and grey today, the clouds above alike in color and mood.

Caspar had always liked the sea. He'd grown up in a small coastal town in the neighboring country of Spovia. Caspar waited a moment for the name of the town to come back to him. Ah yes...Newberry. He'd left when he was a child and had never gone back. Why he'd never gone back was something that was always crystal clear to him.

The War. When Lithopone had attacked the coast and rampaged through towns like his, there had been no warning. Hardly a breath of unrest between the countries had been heard. No one had seen it coming, and as a result, hundreds of unprepared villagers were murdered in the skirmish. Towns like Newberry had been fairly wiped off the face of the planet. Caspar and only a handful of others in his town had survived...

My, are my thoughts dark as of late...Caspar drug a hand down his face, feeling the stubble already growing on his chin. He turned his head to glance at the crowds of people flowing by behind him. It was a continual stream of fisherman and travelers with the occasional salesman working his way through, calling out about his wares. Caspar narrowed his eyes, trying to determine if he could see anyone selling any salt water taffy, one of his personal favorites.

Something else however, caught his eye first.

Caspar's heart squeezed at the sight of a figure in a black cloak with the hood up. The sorceress! Steady there old chap, don't forget to breath. He lost sight of her just as quickly as the crowd shifted. What was she doing here? Had she followed him? Blimey...what would she want with me?