Keane sat in his room, the modest chamber holding a chair near the mirror, and just beside a side table. He could still hear the faint, distant noise of the merchant quarter, but compared to the morning hours, it was way quiet. Nevertheless, it was all a backdrop for his thoughts, not a distraction.
He had just gotten to his room after leaving through the secret passway he went in through. Now, he was in thoughts.
He sat, slouched in the chair, elbows resting on the arm rests with his hands clasped together as if he was praying to a god he didn't believe in. The mirror caught his face in profile, with all its features. He watched himself, like a supervisor reviewing a trainee who happened to have his own face.
'So,' he thought, tracing the logic, 'let's see what we're working with here.' He thought to himself as he took his palms from a clasped position to a locked one.
He ran back through the events he had just witnessed in sharp, clipped frames. Elara, the so-called merchant queen, holding herself with the self-control of a chess master, walking into the inn as if she owned the place, which, for all he knew, it wasn't entirely impossible… The hooded visitor who seemed to be from some underground shadow organization or cult… And then the secret meeting. It looked like some kind of shadow merchant council, with Elara at the helm, barking orders and talking power like it was something one could measure and weigh.
Keane tapped his finger on the armrest. 'Two separate factions,' he thought. 'Elara in both.'
He let the thought hang, then watched his own reflection snort with silent amusement. 'Either she's running both sides, or she's being run by one of them.' His lips curled into a half-smirk. 'Probably the later.' He said in his mind, recalling some of the details of the conversation.
Irrespective of what it all looked like, something was off.
The hooded man's approach in the open was very strange, the way he all but threatened Elara in full view, didn't match the cloak-and-dagger style he expected from a proper underground order or cult. If you had that much power, you didn't risk exposure with a public pissing match. Unless you wanted to be seen. No matter what, it just didn't make any sense.
'A warning? Perhaps' he decided. 'Or a message to someone else in the room… perhaps a play… for someone.' he thought.
He glanced at himself in the mirror again. His jaw worked side to side as he considered this angle. 'No… I only just got to this world, that's too far.'
As he deliberated on the matter, a memory flickered into his mind; Lina, the serving girl, bright and almost blindingly naive, hand on his arm, guiding him through the night market… and into the secret passage… All too convenient.
He then remembered the way her uncle, Joren, the innkeeper, had greeted Elara, like old friends or perhaps old enemies… it was hard to tell with the truly professional.
Joren had probably been at the meeting, masked and silent, and Lina, well, Lina had led him straight to the secret door, disappearing all so conveniently.
'Was she in on it?' he wondered.
He replayed the look in her eyes… open and honest, maybe too much so, but her timing was too perfect.
'She wanted me to follow.'
He watched his reflection, as his face went blank as he sifted through the logic. 'They set me up,' he thought. 'Not for an ambush, but for a test, a show of power, or an invitation…' It was unclear to him.
He rolled his shoulders, the fabric of the new shirt creasing under the motion. He liked the way it fit, the way it let him move. 'If it was a test, did I pass?'
He ran a hand through his hair, then let it drop back to his knee, thinking about the new sub-skill. Lina hadn't seen him at all, not even a flicker of awareness… It wasn't just his skill being so effective… was it?
'They wanted me to see the meeting. Or Joren did.'
He eyed the mirror again, studied the face there. 'So, what's the play?' he asked himself.
The real question was whether Joren was friend or foe with Elara, and whether he cared enough to play their game. Elara might have led him to the city, but he didn't owe her anything.
Regardless, he knew the answer. He was never one to run from the game, only to run it better.
But this time, he was playing with people who wrote the rules in invisible ink.
He pulled up the system for comfort, watching the numbers line up like a row of loyal soldiers:
…
[SYSTEM]
Name: Keane
Level: 2
Class: None
EXP: [██████████]
[STATS]
Strength (STR): 99
Dexterity (DEX): 99
Constitution (CON): 99
Intelligence (INT): 99
Wisdom (WIS): 99
Charisma (CHA): 99
HP: [9902 / 9902]
MP: [9902 / 9902]
Resistances: []
[Skills]
None
[Sub Skills]
Charm (Level 10)
Seduction (Level 10)
Stealth (Level 10)
[Distributable Points]
Stat Points: 10
Skill Points: 10
Mastery Points: 10
…
He shut it down, feeling the old, hungry confidence rise up from the pit of his stomach.
He watched his face for a long time, waiting to see if any of the anxiety would leak through the cracks, but the green eyes just stared back, calm.
If there was one thing he hated most, it was being used as a puppet, a pawn, he wouldn't stand for it.
Just then, a knock came at the door, sharp and deliberate, breaking his reverie.
Keane stood, rolled the tension out of his neck, and went to answer it.
He opened the door to find Lady Elara standing in the corridor, perfectly composed, as if she'd been sculpted out of confidence and silk. She wore a new robe, different from what she had on earlier when he had seen her.
He offered a smile, the polite kind, and stepped back to let her in.
"Keane," she said, her tone warm but measured. "May I come in?"
"You already have," he replied, gesturing to the chair by the mirror.
She took the seat, crossing her legs and smoothing her skirt as she did. For a moment, she studied his face, as if searching for cracks in the mask he wore.
If she found any, she didn't show it.
"What brings you here?" Keane said.
She smiled as she spoke. "Well, I wanted to apologize for this morning. The city is… well, complicated, as you may think."
He shrugged. "It's a complicated world."
"It is," she said, her eyes flicking to the mirror and back.
He caught the gesture, and he wondered if she was looking for the same thing he thought, the real person behind the reflection.
"Is there a reason you're here? You appear to be quite the busy woman." He asked, letting the words hang just long enough to make his point.
Elara laughed, not unkindly. "Always direct. I respect that."
"I've spoken to the wizard I mentioned on the road. He's agreed to assess your Realm. If you're still interested?"
Keane kept his face neutral, but inside he was already running the scenarios. 'Realm check,' he thought. 'Could be a trap…' Regardless, it was a step closer to understanding this world's power structure.
"Of course I am," he said, letting the words land softly.
"Very well then," she said, rising. "He's expecting us within the hour. If you're ready, we should go now." She said, getting up to leave.
As she walked to the door, Keane followed, just after he checked himself in the mirror one last time, almost as though to confirm the firmness of his mask.
After that, he followed her out, closing the door behind him.