Morning fell rather quickly I stared at the window all night to anxious to sleep.
*Her brother isn't back yet?.*
I thought that could be my window of opportunity to try to get out of this mess.
I my focused returned to the floating screen
[Martha stood at the entrance of her room, it was the first time she truly felt like a stranger in her own home. Isn't what couples normally do?]
I've been seeing this for a while.
It's like the system is narrating my life through the point of some third pov.
After spending the entire night with myself I found out a few things, although it's still a mystery he how I am able to read this language it is helpful.
"Come in I don't bite" I yelled impatiently at the door.
Martha walked in calmly, tray in hand.
*Seems like she collected herself*, as much as I would like to tease her, I just had to know what's going on.
"How long have I been asleep for?" I asked.
She glanced at me.
"The whole day" .
*Oh .. so only a day has passed* I was relived.
"Okay pretty lady why don't you get me out of this rope, then we can talk."
I leaned back.
She dropped the food in front of me.
"I can't do that.."
Then how am I supposed to eat the food you brought for me.
I glanced at the thick broth and slices of bread with a sad look.
She looked at the food, then looked at me.
"Oh..."
I smirked.
"Are you planning to feed me like a wife should, aww you shouldn't have. I'm your baby after all *waaa*waaa*"
She gritted her teeth.
"I swear, what is up with you bla*k people"
"Whoa!,whoa!" I streched my hand out to stop her words.
[Please refrain from using such language, are you trying to get me banned.]
This time the words that morphed in front me weren't narration, but a warning.
"Don't be racist now..., I'm still a person like you"
At this point, I was fed up with this stuff. racism was quite common, among the common folk and the aristocrats, even some parts of the world, majestic african princes like me were subjected to slavery. Right now there's was nothing I could do about it.
But slowly, the trend of treating people based on their skin colour would pass, at least that's what I hope.
She looked at me, then scoffed.
"So are you gonna feed me like my mommy or what?"
She headed out, and returned with a knife.
I almost thought she wanted to kill me before she used the cutlery to cut a rope holding my hand.
"What about the other..?". I pointed at my second hand.
"You can eat with one hand can you not?".
Sigh you are no fun....
" I realized something."
Where's my firearm.
I searched for it on me but it was nowhere to be found.
"Are you looking for your weapon". Martha glanced at me.
"Tsk... I let one hand loose and you're already looking for a way to silence me, guess your kind never changes"
My smirk disappeared.
Lady, I said enough with racists remarks, that's very uncultured of you.
She scoffed.
"Whatever ".
and left.
I looked at the soup and bread in front of me, might as well dig in, no point beating myself over it.
Both my legs and arms were tied shut to the bed, I couldn't get it free, just how strong was this girl.
Anyways even after eating I wasn't allowed to move.
Then Martha walked in, her red hair weaved to a crown in her head, wearing a loose dress, her red eyes scanned the me head to toe.
"She sat on the chair opposite the bed and glaced at me..."
"..."
"What?..."
"Start talking."
"Talking what..."
She frowned.
"Don't play dumb with Me, you said if I helped you you'd tell me everything."
*Oh yeah... about that..*
*I wasn't sure what 'everything', meant. It could be info about the beyfongs, it could be everything I've found till now.
Thank goodness I paid for two weeks in the hotel in advance, had I paid the usual fee my stuff would've been lying in the streets by now.
I sighed.
"Okay than what do you want to know?."
"Is it a socercrer that killed my mother"
"She looked at me, all serious."
"Umm... "
Should I tell her that after their funeral I dug up their family grave, probably not.
I wanted to make sure Mr beyfong was really dead, and sure enough he was, acid melted his body beyond recognition.
Or should I tell her her mother was having an affair with a butcher.
"Since you helped me, I'll give you a piece of information."
I raised a finger.
*What should I say?, should I tell her I put a bullet in her father's thigh."
"My investigations tell me your mother is not dead..."
I leaned back.
Martha thought for a moment.
"And?"
"Oh?... she moved on so quickly, I was expecting more of a reaction.
*Okay then.*
"She's part of a secret society that makes blood sacrifices to a god named the {Priestess of Pleasure}, and are secret assassins that kill people with no remorse" I blabbed on.
Martha just listened without interrupting as I explained, I explained that I traced a murder and how I managed to escape from miss beyfongs attack. Obviously I lied about that part, because how do you explain to someone that you literally died and came back to life.
"Thats all I know on her ."
I sighed.
Martha was found pondering.
*I wonder what she's thinking about*
"So she's that powerful."
"Huh?"
"Wait, didn't she hear of all the genocides committed by that foul woman?, didn't she hear of the gruesome murders?, He he... guess the apple really doesn't fall far from the tree"
"So I've told you what I know, can I go now.?"
*Wait..*
"What..?"
"..."
"What?".
"..."
"Speak up woman I'm losing my patience. Mysteries won't solve themselves."
Today I was on a schedule, I am supposed to meet up with Aaron by the cathedral of the murder this evening, and my mask is shattered.
This the by far the worst time to get captured.
"Then how can I become a socercrer... like you"
"I looked at her."
Silence...
"Sorry my lady, I'm as clueless as you." I shrugged.
Thank goodness I didn't bring my journal.
She pondered for a bit.
"Then what about these books you have?" She galced at the books I retrieved.
I tensed internally.
"Umm those are..."
"I often see my mom studying symbols like that."
"Oh really .." my eye twitched
"Are you lying to me?.
I flinched.
"Uhh.. umm o-off course not" I forced a laugh.
"You're looking away, which means you're lying."
"Oh really, and where'd you get that idea.
She sat down and stared at me.
*What is it this time.*
Please.?"
I was stunned.
She stood up and bowed.
"Please teach me socercry, I'll do anything you want, except that... stuff" she looked at me.
*What stuff..."
I looked at myself.
Then I realized*
"Whoa... Whoa. Who'd you take me for?." I sighed.
Another sign of racism.
"Untie me Frist."
She took the knife and cut me, lose. I already have an assistant, so what more another. She could also be a good source of info.
Even I don't know shit myself, I only got this far with my grit, acrobatics and my trusty firearm.
"Speaking of which where's crippler" (crippler the name I game my beautiful Maucer C96.)
I don't know why I gave it that name, it just feels catchy.
Martha looked at me.
"Crippler?"
Yep, my gun.
She hesitated.
Don't worry I'm not gonna shot you with it." I reassureed her.
"She brought me the barrel gun wrapped in a handkerchief."
"Good, now I feel secure."
You want to learn sorcerery huh...
She nodded.
I stood up, "from now on you're my student then."
Before she could express her excitement, I streched out my hand.
This will be a tuff journey, can you bare with it. She nodded.
"The world of mystic arts Is dangerous, and there are rules"
"So that's what it's called "
I told her the three things she should never do.
Number 1, never in your life ask a suspicious person if they're a mystic artists, It could cost you your life.
Second, if you see an insane mystic artists, never listen to what they say. The knowledge that corrupted them could corrupt you.
And lastly, if you ever, ever, ever ... encounter the names, "Scared Terbanacles or ancients", flee immediately"
Those are the three rules.
I learned about the ancient demigods from my trusty assistant, Aaron.
Those guys are just star ranks who have lived for centuries, and posses incomprehensible power.
Those are the rules I broke that killed me, quite literally.
"But now it's time I head somewhere."
I headed towards the he door.
"Where are you going?"
I smiled.
"Oh nothing, Investigatimg a must arts murder.."
I'm starting to have more assistants, should we call ourselves something, like an organization...
I thought for a moment.
"How about scholars?" sounded right.