Welcome to Gaia! ::

“Then you’ve come to the right place,” Amon stated after a quick glance at the stranger, “the bazaar is like a melting pot of cultures. Eastern ones though, for the most part, unlike the rest of Dürem. Lots of ‘atmosphere’ here to soak up.” He grinned a little, he knew all too well the bazaar could be fairly overwhelming.

“Then again,” he added wryly, “the melting pot thing can pretty much be said of this whole area. From Dürem up to Isle De Gambino you’ll have a hard time finding anyone or anything truly native.” He’d probably have to go as far as the floating cities for this. Not like he’d ever been to any of those even though they were supposedly quite a sight to behold. But, the only means by which those huge chunks of rock could possibly keep floating in the air clearly was magic, which meant he was So Not Going There. Ever.

Amon shrugged, turning to the vendor once more. “Listen, 5000 is ridiculous. Unless I missed something and this thing is made of gold, not brass. I’m not going to pay any more than 1000 for it. 1200, maybe, if you add that bowl to the deal.”

“Now who is trying to rob whom?” The stall owner retorted. “6000, with the bowl. I beg you to look at how perfectly polished the mirror surface is, how detailed the engravings on the back. All done by hand, hours of work. Do not diminish my cousin’s craftsmanship by asking a price too low.”

Amon was just about to respond with a snarky remark when he noticed Hugo seemed to be talking to someone else. Only, there was no other person about? Before he could start to wonder if it maybe was a cell phone call, Hugo went to properly introduce himself and … ‘Oblivion’.

“Oh,” Amon said, not without sympathy, after a glance at the tell-tale shadowy tendrils. “You ended up with one of those.” That was rather quick, given Hugo apparently hadn’t been to Gaia for long.

“Amon Silverchair,” he introduced himself, offering his hand. “And this lovely young lady here goes by the name of Nephrite.”

Nephrite restrained herself for just long enough to do her quirky, but strangely elegant curtsy-bow thing, before she wrapped her small green fingers around Hugo’s hand, trying to pry open his fingers and get a glimpse at what she was sure had to be another of her little ‘cousins’. ‘Can I seeeeeee?’ she begged.

“Behave, Nephrite,” Amon mechanically echoed Hugo’s words from before. “I’m sorry, she can be very enthusiastic,” he apologized for her behavior. “Do you … Do you have any idea of what you’ve got there? If not, I may be able to offer a bit of an explanation.” He hesitated for a moment before he added: “Free tour of the bazaar included. I know some great places for food.” He hoped Hugo liked his to be spicy. If not, there was some fun to be had.

“I don’t think I’ll be buying after all,” he told the salesperson with a shameless smirk. “The young lady doesn’t seem interested anymore.”
“5000,” the man promptly offered. Which meant they were essentially getting the bowl for free now. “Fine young lady like her, she’ll need a hand mirror. She’ll become interested in makeup soon, she is that age, I can tell. I have seven daughters,” he added proudly. “Which need to be fed. They’re not married yet.”

“You’ve got my sympathy,” Amon said, meaning it. Dealing with one girl close to hitting puberty was a pain in the a**. Seven, he did not even try to imagine. “4000, and we’ve got a deal.”

“You’re robbing me!” The stall owner complained once again, dramatically rolling his eyes before he took the items to wrap them in silk paper and bag them.

“Yeah, sure,” Amon snorted. He was still being ripped off, he was pretty sure, but at least the original price had been almost halved. He could live with that. “If I spot a group of tourists, I’ll point them your way to make up for it.” He paid up – in cash as that was the preferred sort of payment on the bazaar – accepting the bag in return.

The vendor seized the opportunity for a quick glance at his customer’s hands. “No woman in your life yet?” he queried upon noting that there was no ring. “Seven daughters, all very beautiful.”

Amon laughed. This kept happening to him, time and again, on the bazaar. He was handsome, his looks fit the cultural heritage of these people, and he quite obviously was well-to-do. “There’s plenty of women in my life, actually. Trust me, I’m not the type of man you’d want to wed your daughters to. I don't know about him, though,” he added, pointing a thumb at Hugo.

‘Hello-oh~!’ Nephrite cooed at the unknown wisp in the meanwhile, finally having caught a glimpse at it. It was pretty!

“How could you possibly not be interested?” The man tossed his hands up in dramatic mock despair. “How can you tell without even having looked at them? And not only are they beautiful, they are smart – too smart for poor old me – and they can cook too! Aadhira! Shuchita! Come meet these very fine young men!” he called, turning to the back of the stall.

“And now would be a good time to leave,” Amon advised. “Next thing going to happen, you’ll find yourself being introduced to the rest of the family and discussing the dowry.” That too had happened to him before in the bazaar, and – while it couldn’t compare to certain other events – it had been one of the scariest experiences in his life. He reached for Hugo’s arm, hastily pulling the stranger along as he hurried away from the stall. He slowed his pace only a little further down the plaza, letting go of the other’s arm. “Sorry ‘bout that,” he apologized with a lopsided grin. “But once that marriage topic crops up, it’s really hard talking your a** out of it without offending these people’s family honor or something. And that … can lead to a whole new world of trouble.”

“But, yeah,” he added after another glimpse at ‘Oblivion’, “I do know what he is. Generally at least. Because … Nephrite is the same, only at a more grown up stage? Yours is an infant, basically.” He was just about to suggest a place where they could sit and talk this through, but stopped when he observed somewhat unnerved the interesting shift of color in the other man’s appearance which seemed … to be directly related to how much sunlight he was exposed to. It better not be magic. “Pardon my curiosity,” he started, fear tinging his voice ever so slightly, “but, uh, is that normal?”

‘Mir would like that,’ Nephrite announced, lightly and playfully touching upon Hugo’s hair before quickly retreating into the shadows. She didn’t like being out in the sun. Not at all. ‘Her hair has a different color almost every week.’ She looked at Oblivion, and there was a distinct sense she would have been smiling had she possessed a mouth, before she raised her hand to beckon the wisp to come closer. ‘Come play with me?’ She twirled, and then her form seemed to grow even more ethereal, and to darken, merging with the shadows that surrounded her until it was next to impossible to tell where she was.

“Did you now?” Amon laughed. “Right on. Seriously, I can’t imagine myself being trapped in any kind of relationship. It’s been ages since I had as much as a girlfriend even.” His profession had a tendency, to say the least, to make things difficult. Not to mention he had to get the Madame’s permission whenever he was dating someone. But overall, he’d figured, steady relationships just weren’t for him. Too many concessions, too many liabilities.

He motioned Hugo to follow him, weaving his way through the maze of alleys and larger plazas until they arrived at the main square. Clearly, he was rather familiar with the place and quite obviously knew his way around.

Nephrite followed them, sticking to the shadows and gliding through them much like a fish would through water. It was obvious that – despite her colorful appearance when she fully manifested – this was her true element. She was a Creature of Shadow, through and through.

She clearly was toying with Oblivion, showing up first here, and then there, occasionally capturing the wisp in her hands and taking him with her through the shadows. She knew the Little Ones weren’t capable of phasing through solid matter on their own, so she figured it would be fun for him to experience such. But she also was mindful enough to put not too much strain on the bond between him and his guardian, making a point to always stay close to Hugo.

Amon quirked a brow. She hadn’t been like that with the other fiends and wisps they’d encountered so far, he noted. Not … quite as flirty. Made him wonder if there was something special about this ... 'Oblivion'. Or maybe he was just imagining things.

He looked about, and – spotting one of his favorite kebab grills – a decision was quickly made. He got a mixed plate for each of them – those who ate, at least – which had a bit of everything, including the Very Spicy variety, plus some yogurt mint sauce and naan bread and tea. He tried to make Nephrite help carry some of it, but she seemed to have entirely too much fun playing “catch me if you can” with Oblivion, so he let her be after a few futile attempts to make her listen.

“Your world,” he said to Hugo, “sounds quite on crack. I think I’d go nuts there.” A place where almost everything was iridescent? Opalescent? Whatever it was called … And men had sparkly skins, the ********? “Do hope it’s not as bad here for you,” he added, being genuinely sincere about it. “And I hope you’re not vegetarian or something?” Damn, he had completely forgotten to ask about it, quite inconsiderate of him. If the Madame was present, he’d get an earful for sure. He was slipping, definitely. “Stall over there has some fabulous pakoras – that’s bits of vegetables dipped into batter and fried – if you would like to try these instead,” he offered.

“Oblivion tried to kill you?” Amon queried curiously, once they’d settled down at last, instead of offering an explanation. There was something about his demeanor which hinted this came as little surprise to him. Nephrite, he’d learned early on, was anything but harmless.

Amon had no qualms about Hugo doing all the talking for now, taking advantage of it to dig in and clean off most of his plate in record time – he’d been ravenous, as so often lately. He wondered if it had to do anything with Nephrite’s growth spurt – she had outgrown her earliest set of silk gowns quite definitely, and as she was basically feeding off him … who knew?

Athan, probably. Maybe.

Besides, he had a feeling he would be doing more than enough talking soon enough.

“Your world sounds … very sterile to me,” he said hesitantly, wiping off his fingers and picking up his tea to take a sip. Just right after a savory meal, though he still would have preferred a nice cold beer instead. “Very advanced too, but sterile. I dunno, kind of soulless. No offense meant,” he added, though Hugo didn’t seem to be the type easily offended anyway. “There are those kinds of shops here too, where you can just order stuff and it is delivered to your doorstep in no time at all?” He shrugged. He’d always preferred to get a hands on, to ‘look’ at stuff with his fingers, to smell, taste and try, before he actually bought.

“I do get the bit about promoting constant learning though, somewhat. Though … probably not in the sense you’d be used to. The way you speak of it, my impression is, it’s all very scholarly, very dry and theory-based – feel free to correct me if I’m wrong. I’d rather prefer learning about practical skills. Like, I’ve picked up cooking some years ago, to the point it’s become somewhat of a passion. And recently I’ve been learning about gardening – mostly be cause the young lady there,” he pointed his thumb at Nephrite, “is obsessing about it, but can’t do it all on her own. It’s … it may sound cheesy, but it’s certainly enriched my life.” He shrugged.

“If you’re into history, from the point of view of your ‘advanced’ culture, you’ll probably love this place. The bazaar I mean. I don’t suppose you’ve had a chance to see artisans at work, except, perhaps, in exhibitions or demonstrations? This place has them all, potters, blacksmiths, glassblowers … As I said, I can give you a tour if you want to. I’m free today, and I don’t mind.”

He observed Nephrite’s antics for a little while, having considerable practice by now to track her whereabouts even though she had almost completely merged with the shadows – it had been some time since he’d last seen her so playful, he realized. She’d definitely grown up some.

He rested his elbows on the table, nesting his chin on the back of his folded hands as he contemplated how to best explain about the fiends’ nature. In easy, non-confusing terms for Hugo. Damn critters should come with a leaflet to hand out, or a manual of sorts. Hah, he could so picture the ill-humored expression Athan would wear on his face if he were to make that suggestion to him! He smirked, mostly to himself, but it was obvious something was amusing him.

“This stone, your stone – and, yeah, it does indeed look like what’s known as blue goldstone here –,” speaking of learning, hanging out with Reyna had considerably broadened his knowledge about gems and minerals, “has a soul trapped within. It’s a long story really, and what I know of it is admittedly second-hand knowledge. Apparently some centuries ago, a mage called Doran went over the edge – joining the Dark Side, so to speak – trapping first his enemies’, and later just about anyone’s souls into gems to be rid of them. There’s a man, Athan, who’s trying to undo what he did.”

“Which consists of … having the soul trapped within a stone bond to that of a ‘guardian’ so that they may be reborn and get a second chance at living. Basically, they feed on your life force or something.”

“Theoretically, it’s Athan who hands those stones out, assigning them to people. But … from what I gathered, they do have a certain tendency to show up in unexpected places,” (like, how Jasamine had told him, a ******** flower pot?!), “and sort of ‘go off’ on their own. I don’t know a single guardian yet who’s actually volunteered for the jo- Oh, wait, there’s one,” he corrected himself, remembering about Miranda. “But she’s a gullible, naïve goody-two-shoes, so she doesn’t quite count.”

“What this entails … It’s bound to your soul, feeding off you to fuel their rebirth. Without adverse effects, I was told, but I’m having second thoughts there. Neph’s growing to her current stage knocked me out good, and made me feel like having a real bad hangover when I finally woke up.”

“As you may have observed with Nephrite, they communicate through telepathy, and also are … empathic. Like, sensing your feelings, and broadcasting theirs? In other words – forget about your privacy. If this will ever end …” He took a sidewards glance at where Nephrite kept teasing Oblivion. “I don’t know, honestly. I doubt even Athan does. To my knowledge, none of these ‘shadow fiends’ has fully grown up yet.” He fell quiet, wondering if he had possibly forgotten something. These really ought to come with an instruction manual.

“Oh. And their ‘element’, quite obviously, is ‘shadow’. It was shadow magic ,apparently, which trapped them, and shadow magic which releases them.” There was no small amount of loathing in his voice as he explained this. He hated with a passion on having to talk about anything related to magic.

Amon listened attentively, chin still resting on his intertwined fingers, interrupting Hugo only once to quietly inquire with the grill owner about the possibility of a nice, cold beer. Lucky for him, the central square of the bazaar was tourist-y enough for them to have some.

It was … interesting, to say the least, to hear about this ‘Doran’ person from some completely unrelated source, someone who’d not been to Twilight Designs previously. So Athan really was centuries old, he thought to himself. He had … not exactly doubted it, but certainly taken in that information with a grain of salt, as he did with most things.

If anything, Hugo’s story served well to unsettle him. “They don’t have to, I don’t think.” He knew nothing about Doran’s rebirth as a fiend, or he might have had more to say on the matter. “Nephrite, at least, seems to remember nothing about her past self whatsoever, not consciously at least. Subconsciously, however …” He shrugged. “I don’t think it’s coincidence she prefers Asian clothing.” His one visible eye narrowed. The souls of those who’d opposed Doran and innocent bystanders, he had been fine with that explanation about the origin of the captured souls. He … had just never considered that Doran’s ‘enemies’ might include his ‘former allies’.

“You definitely ought to speak to Athan,” and I’d like to be around to overhear, thank you. “He, I’m pretty certain, will be able to tell you if it’s dangerous. And help keep it in check if it is.” Oblivion, he was fairly certain, was not a stone Athan would ever have given out willingly to a guardian. But as it was one of the stones which had sort of ‘gone off’ on their own … He wondered how many of them were still out there, waiting to latch on some hapless person’s soul, like ticking time bombs.

‘What are you talking about?’ Nephrite inquired, emerging from Amon’s shadow and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Her gray eyes were filled with curiosity.

“Just this and that, honey,” Amon replied, evading a direct answer. “Athan, among other things. Say, what do you think about your little friend here?” He pointed at the little wisp which was floating nearby.

‘He’s fun to play with,’ Nephrite said almost immediately. ‘And very sparkly. I like him.’ There was something decidedly impish about her expression.

‘Forget it, you can’t take him home with you.’

‘Awwww …’

“I wouldn’t mind.” Amon gave a reassuring nod. “Just … don’t put it off for too long, really.”

‘Look who’s talking,’ Nephrite quipped, and delved back into the shadows, laughing, earning herself an angry glare from her guardian. She faded into view again right next to Hugo, causing a few surprised exclamations from the other customers as she emerged from the shadows, and wrapped an arm around his. The touch of her skin felt very much like the silken garments she wore.

Truth be told, Amon was rather inclined to avoid Athan for now, for his own reasons. But, first off, he hardly could keep on doing that forever, he was well aware of it. And, secondly, he certainly felt no small amount of sympathy for those poor guardians who’d had a shadow fiend unleashed upon them just as unexpectedly and without a warning as it had happened to him. And, finally, he was actually interested in what Athan would have to say on this specific wisp. Oblivion just spelled ‘trouble’ in his opinion.

“Do you have a phone? Internet?” he asked, keeping in mind Hugo was fairly new to this world. Given, though, what he’d told of his own, both means of contact might seem pretty outdated to him.

“And writing it down might be a good idea,” he added. “I certainly do wish I had a leaflet or manual to hand out about the fiends at some times.”

‘The bazaar is fun,’ Nephrite agreed happily, her arms still wrapped around Hugo’s. Her eyes were bright with mirth as she observed the little wisp exploring its surroundings. ‘I think he sparkles because he’s happy.’

“So,” Amon asked, stretching a little. “Is there anything specific you’d like to see around here? Right down that way are the antique stores, that might be interesting for you. And to the left of it are the glassblowers and the lantern and candle sellers – their hall is quite a sight.”