Marta's shack turned out to be slightly larger than the other buildings around it, functioning as both a simple tavern and an inn. The air was stuffy, smelling of cheap liquor, onion soup, and also sweat.
Marta herself, a middle-aged woman with a sturdy build and hawk-like eyes, immediately greeted him. Her gaze was sharp, assessing Kairos's tattered but dignified appearance.
"Need a room, sir?" she asked, her voice hoarse but warm. "And perhaps some hot food? We've got soup and fresh bread, ready for you."
"Yes, thank you, madam," Kairos, now using the name Aris, replied politely. He offered Marta a silver coin. "I can pay."
Marta's eyes lit up at the sight of the silver coin. "Of course, sir. Please take a seat." She wiped the rough wooden table with a worn cloth she'd been carrying. "Where are you from, sir? It's rare to see someone like you around here, especially coming from the swamp."
The same story was repeated by Kairos: his escape from Lyceum, his fear, his desire to hide until the situation calmed down. Marta listened while puffing on a clay pipe, thick smoke billowing out with a pungent smell.
"Lyceum," she sighed, a breath that seemed feigned. "Poor thing. Therion's got no heart, that's for sure. But around here, lad, you'd better fear the Vaelgard more. They swagger in, drink, eat, and don't pay a damn coin. Sometimes they even flash their blades to make a point."
She leaned in closer, her voice low and biting. "Just yesterday, a pack of their scouts, led by that one-eyed bastard Bren, was guzzling here. Loud as hell, yapping about the Iron River bridge, about some Therion convoy passing through next week. Sounded like they're itching for trouble."
Nice intelijen information.
Kairos suppressed a hiss of satisfaction deep within his heart. One-eyed Bren? Definitely one of Stoneblood's men. And there would certainly be a clash with the Therion troop convoy.
"Iron River..." he mumbled, pretending to try and recall. "That's the main supply route to Etheleum, isn't it? How dare Vaelgard disrupt it there. Aren't they allies?"
Marta let out a short, bitter chuckle. "Allies? Hah! Wolves and jackals, sir. They only team up when there's something to snatch. Therion's sitting pretty on the throne now, but Vaelgard wants their cut. They're snarling, flashing their fangs. That one-eyed git Bren was spouting off about how Therion's too weak to hold their own borders."
She tapped the ash from her pipe. "And Duke Malkor? That Therion big shot supposed to guard the western border? Snoozing in his fancy tower while Vaelgard struts around like they own the place. Traitor or coward, take your pick."
With a hint of feigned concern, Kairos performed his act again. "This... this is bad. If they clash here, this village could suffer the consequences."
"We're already screwed, Sir," Marta snapped, her voice sharp with anger. "Everytime trouble brews, we're the ones getting pummeled. Therion jacks up taxes to fund their damn war. Vaelgard swipes whatever they need for supplies. We're caught in the middle, crushed."
Her eyes narrowed, studying Kairos's reaction. "Some folks say we should just rise up. But fight who? Both sides got swords, and we've got nothing."
Embers of rebellion...
Kairos saw it, but he did not respond immediately, merely nodding with a grim face. He simply ordered soup and bread, eating them slowly, feigning weariness and burden, while his ears caught every whisper in the tavern.
Conversations about poor harvests, young men from the village forcibly taken by Therion recruiters last month, fear of the next Vaelgard patrol...
As he was about to go to the privy in the back, a young man with a grim face but angry eyes approached him quietly near the back door.
"Sir Aris?" he whispered.
Kairos turned, then nodded.
"Old Nel by the well... he said you're from Lyceum. That right?" His eyes sparked with a wild hope.
"True," Kairos replied, keeping his tone flat.
"My brother," the young man whispered, his voice shaking. "He was an apprentice at Lyceum. Is he... is he...?" He couldn't finish.
Kairos looked into the young man's eyes, then he shook his head slowly, a perfectly polished 'grief' expressed on his face. "I... I don't know all the names. But Lyceum... very few survived."
He placed a light hand on the young man's shoulder, feeling his body tremble. "I am sorry."
Tears welled in the young man's eyes, but they were not tears of sadness, but rather tears of anger.
"Therion," he hissed, voice dripping with hate. "And Vaelgard, letting it happen, maybe even helping. They all gotta pay."
Kairos did not smile, and looked at the young man with a gaze full of sympathy. But inside, he smiled with satisfaction.
"Your anger is understandable, kid," he said in a low, falsely empathetic tone. "But be careful with your words. The enemy's ears are everywhere."
He then secretly gave his last silver coin. "For your mother. And endure." The message was actually ambiguous, but his tone, the very subtle tone of Kairos permeating Aerion's voice, carried a promise.
Endure... because vengeance may come swiftly...soon.
The young man clutched the coin he had just received tightly, looking at Kairos with a gaze mixed with gratitude and deep confusion, before disappearing into the darkness.
Kairos went to his small room above Marta's tavern, a narrow, dusty space with straw as a mattress. He closed the door, and immediately the mask he had been wearing fell away.
His tense shoulders slumped, not from false fatigue, but from the relief of shedding his pretense. He wiped his face with cold water from the basin, as if trying to cleanse himself of all his falsehoods.
His mind, however, worked at high speed, cold and analytical. All the information he had gathered was valuable.
The active Vaelgard patrols, the tension between Therion and Vaelgard forces, Duke Malkor's betrayal, the deep popular discontent, and also the strategic location of this village.
He looked out the small, dirty window, towards the village that was beginning to fall asleep. A pale moon illuminated the thatched roofs of the huts there. In this darkness, Kairos could see everything that could bring his plan to spread more chaos in this human world to fruition.
However, he needed more information, and also had to improve this vessel to become stronger.