Iryla hadn’t really been expecting to be invited on a little trip with Zarius. And by ‘hadn’t really’, she meant ‘not at all’. But it wasn’t like she was going to turn down the offer. Though she still couldn’t quite place his intentions half the time, or what he really wanted, Zarius had done just as much for her as Cyran had by offering her a home in the Rookery and so much more.

The truth was, even if she couldn’t quite trust him yet the same way she could the more open Cyran, Iryla still felt grateful to Zarius. And she still respected him as someone who was older, likely wiser, and much more skilled than she was. She could learn from him, and she would be a fool to pass up on any opportunity to observe him, especially outside of Darkveil.

She’d still probably be a bit of a shit to him, though. If he was asking for it.

Their current destination was somewhere in the Marsh Flats, though Iryla was not quite sure where exactly they were going or why they were heading there. She had a habit of not asking too many questions, and instead seeking her answers through quiet observation instead. It had served her well so far. She knew Zarius had some kind of business to attend to, though it was also entirely possible his business was merely to observe her like she was observing him, away from Cyran’s watching eyes.

“So, Marsh Flats, huh?” She tilts her head at Zarius, looking over from where she walks beside him with her backpack pulled taught over her shoulders by two hands on the straps. “Pretty, uh, moist around here…? It’s different from the Ashlands.”

After a pause, she wrinkles her nose.

“I think I actually like the Ashlands better…”

Rumors of ghosts haunting the Hauntwood hardly seemed like something that needed to be investigated. It WAS called the Hauntwood after all. Why was anyone surprised there are ghosts there?

That wasn't really why they were slogging through the swamp anyway. Investigating the hauntings was just an excuse to return to the Marsh Flats and meet with a contact of Zarius' family who was in the area. Having a cover story was important to ensure the contact was not targeted by any of the tiefling's enemies. His own reputation had come with a lot of boons, but also a fair number of drawbacks. 

Bringing Iryla along served a few purposes. Having a second set of eyes around was always a plus, but Iryla would do better in the swamp than Snow who had a hard time with heat and humidity. Fur and mud just did not mix well. 

Cyran had also been working with the young thief to help her further develop her skills. This would be a good test to see if the elf's mentorship was worth all the time and effort. Maybe she would pick up a few of his tricks as well if she got some first hand experience. 

Lastly, Iryla was living in the building he owned. Leaving her alone there for too long was just asking for her to figure out how to get into his private study. This trip would keep her far away from achieving that and snooping through his things. 

"Few places are like the Ash Lands. That is probably a good thing." 

While the Ash Lands held a special place in his heart, he couldn't deny that it was not the prettiest land. The Marsh Flats with its towering cypress groves and fluxuating tidal swell certainly was something to behold. There was a richness to the marshes and bogs not found anywhere else in Charon. That said, he definitely has not missed the swarms of biting insects and the cloying mud. 

This time they at least had more appropriate transportation to make use of. Stepping across a boardwalk that juts out from what remains of a long sunken cobblestone road, the pair come to the end of the pier where there is a raft tied to a piling. A hooded individual fishing off of the dock doesn't even acknowledge the pair as Zarius gestures for Iryla to step aboard the raft. 

The tiefling slips some Solars out from his coin pouch and drops the coins into the outstretched hand of the hooded figure before taking a long pole and stepping aboard the raft. He pushes them away from the dock and starts to maneuver the raft in-between the tangled groves halfway submerged in the brackish water. 

It was still daylight, though the sun was starting to set below the thick canopy of the trees. If there were ghosts out here, they likely wouldn't make themselves known until dark. 

After a moment, Zarius looks at Iryla. "So, how is training going?"

Iryla was a bit hesitant to get on the raft, not because she didn’t trust Zarius, but simply because… Well. Growing up in the shadow of a volcano meant that large bodies of water were not something Iryla felt very accustomed to. Even merely walking across the wooden path over water that had led to their transportation left Iryla feeling a little weak in the knees.

But they had places to be, things to do- At least Iryla assumed they did. So, though her first step is unsteady, she carefully makes her way onto the raft. It takes her a moment to get used to the sway of the wood underneath her feet, the way it moves, but eventually she finds her balance.

That does not stop her from feeling just the faintest bit nauseous.

“My training…?” Conversation is good, it would keep her distracted from the unnatural feeling of the movement of the raft. “Cyran tells me it’s going well.” She answers before frowning faintly. She still had a hard time accepting any sort of praise from him, as if she were afraid it was simply a lie to build her confidence. Every time she failed in a trick he was teaching her, or stumbled, it became easier to doubt that she would ever reach Cyran’s level. But he always assured her it was normal to fail before you mastered something, and Iryla was… She was trying to take that to heart.

“...I don’t think I’m learning fast enough.” The half-elf confesses after a moment. Where Cyran was kind and encouraging, she had no doubt that Zarius would tell her the truth, no matter how brutal it might feel in the moment.

“Cyran says it’s normal- But… He’s invested so much time and effort into me. I want to make sure I prove that he’s not wasted that.” She sighs a bit before continuing with a wry smile. “I guess this trip will be a good indication if I’ve made any progress.”

Zarius is careful not to get their little raft stuck or caught on any branches or roots poking out of the murky water as they make their way through the maze-like waters of the Hauntwood. Curtains of moss hung from the branches of the towering cypress, making it difficult for the last late evening rays of sunlight to reach them. 

The tiefling listens to Iryla while he focuses on steering. She does not sound particularly confident, which is a slight concern. Her words do seem earnest though, and it's clear to him that she is actually taking the training and time Cyran has provided seriously. Her humility and self-reflection is evidence enough. 

"Everyone learns at their own pace and learning is a life-long pursuit. Even Cyran, who has had many more years than I, is still learning himself."

Elves were blessed with long lifespans, though many took it for granted and squandered to potential extra centuries they had. Many were lazy, too proud to think for even a second that their lives could be cut short just as easily as anyone else's. A long life was never a guarantee. As someone who was always short on time, he hated that about elves.

"Cyran is right." He says simply as if he has no doubts in Cyran's judgement. "There will be some things you learn faster than others. My sister mastered the arcane very quickly, while I have never had much talent for it. My brother, on the other hand, never ended up learning any magic or fighting, he is just not suited for it."

He looks at Iryla. She already had grown quite a bit since the pair of men had first picked her up off the streets of Darkveil. She at least had figured out how to dress herself properly now. 

"Do not be discouraged. You have potential."

The smooth journey of their little boat over the water at least keeps Iryla from feeling sea sick, though from the way she jolts every time the boat makes an unexpected move, or sways, it’s clear she doesn’t feel particularly comfortable on the water.

At least the view is pretty, as they travel through a world unlike any she’s ever known. Her whole world had been made in shades of ash, ever since she was a child. A place to green is fascinating to her, in it’s own way.

She’d seen so many colors of the world ever since Cyran and Zarius had taken her in, really.

Iryla listens to Zarius’ words, though it’s hard to keep from feeling disappointed in herself. No matter how many times she’s been told she’s doing just fine, it’s hard to believe it. It’s hard not to feel like she should be doing better, be doing more. But she’s been reminded, many, many times that she is young, a child in some ways, even if that grates at her nerves. She still has time to learn and grow, even if…

“I guess it’s just hard for me to look at it like that. Growing up the… The way I did… I didn’t really ever have the luxury of being able to fail and get back up again, y’know? Either I succeeded, or I went hungry, and not being good enough just made an empty stomach feel worse.” She muses with a bit of a wry smile on her face. “And I’ve gone hungry more often than not.”

She wouldn’t talk about this kind of thing with Cyran, at least she would try not to. Speaking of such things would no doubt bring that sad look to his face, the one she couldn’t stand to see. But she had a feeling Zarius might understand. Even if they did not grow up the same way, he was familiar with the way life could be in the Ash Lands. She didn’t have to fear Zarius’ pity, speaking like this, at the very least. And that was it’s own comfort.

“...If I really have potential, I just don’t want to waste it. It took so long for someone to pick me, I don’t want to…” Be sent back. Back to the streets, back to the orphanage, back to the little girl who cried every time she was passed over by a family who decided she just wasn’t what they were looking for.

Clearing her throat to dismiss those thoughts, Iryla looks around a little more at their surroundings. “So, what exactly are we supposed to be doing out here, again…?” Not that she’s really concerned about their job, but talking about business and missions and adventures sounded far better than talking about… everything else.

The tiefling listens to the young half-elf, keeping his eyes on their surroundings as he steers them around submerged logs and other obstacles. Clearly she had given all this a lot of thought. How long had she been keeping these thoughts to herself? Did Cyran know how she felt?

He didn't want to pry too much. It wasn't his place to. While his work had him constantly disregarding people's personal privacy, when it came to those he worked with he tried to avoid that as much as possible. It did put himself in a more compromised position should they conspire against him, but he felt that those around him would be more likely to trust him if he respected their boundaries. So far it hasn't proven to be a foolish decision.

"Despite your struggles, you have made it this far. That is something to be proud of. We cannot control what cards we are dealt. Some people start with better hands than other. How you play your cards can change that with time, but the role luck has in life cannot be denied."

While he could imagine the kind of childhood Iryla had, it was not something he really experienced himself. He could empathize, but never really understand what it was like from her perspective. Many others living on those streets couldn't get as far as she has, and that either spoke to her incredible luck or her adaptability and stubbornness.

"I have worked hard for my success, but I also have been extremely lucky to even have the opportunity to put in that hard work and have it pay off. It is important to keep that in mind. Any day, a stroke of bad luck could ruin everything."

If he had been born in any other city, he certainly would have been a different breed of noble. Wealth and political power are shields in most other regions of Charon, but in Darkveil it is a target.

How many times had they caught assassins making attempts on their lives? How many of their allies have disappeared in the middle of the night, never to be seen or heard from again? How many of their business deals fell through due to sabotage and subterfuge? The number was too obscene to fathom. He had long stopped keeping track.

The volatile underground and uncertainty kept them humble, for those with too much confidence and hubris were often targeted first.

He looks about the trees as the light level starts to dwindle and darkness spreads across the sky, casting the forest into shadow.

"We are meeting a contact of mine out in the marsh. They are not a fan of visitors, so they live in the Hauntwood away from most other people. I assume that the hauntings that the locals are concerned about might be their doing to deter unwanted visitors."

Passing through the trees, a number of small fireflies drift down from the tree tops and float around the air around them. Zarius waves one away from his face and then squints through the darkness.^[1] There was something else glowing through the darkened trees a few wagon lengths from them. It was only there for a brief moment before it passed behind a tree and disappeared, but it looked somewhat humanoid in shape and size. 

"Keep an eye out."

---

[1] Dark Vision

Iryla laughs a bit when Zarius brings up luck, though it is a soft and fragile thing. “I have certainly been unlucky before.” Perhaps her entire life had been one long streak of bad luck, from having the misfortune of being born alone and helpless in a place like Darkveil to everything that came after.

But… No. That wasn’t quite true, was it? “Well, at least my luck has certainly turned around in the past few months.” What should have been just another unfortunate incident in her life turned out to be a blessing in disguise when Iryla failed at pickpocketing Cyran. She couldn’t have predicted being taken in by the elven man and by Zarius, but she couldn’t say she was unhappy with how things turned out.

She was just scared of losing it.

“I guess it’s hard to believe I’ve done anything to earn what I have now.” Iryla admitted quietly, “But I still have time to try and do that, right…?”

The girl peers into the rapidly darkening woods around them. Even without light to see by, her eyes were sharp, taking in all the little details that otherwise might be easy to miss during the night.

When she is listening to Zarius explain their true reason for coming out here, she notices a strange light in the distance. It isn’t there long enough for her to get a good look at it, but it is noticeable.

“Zarius, over there,” Her voice is hushed when she speaks next, “Did you see that? There was a light. Could that have been your contact…?”

Zarius squints at the darkened forest around them. So he hadn't imagined it at all. Iryla had seen something as well. 

"Possibly, though it could be something else. This place had its name long before my contact decided to move in."

He pushes against the pole and maneuvers the raft around a couple of roots sticking out from the water's surface. The corner of the raft catches a bit on something just underneath them. Luckily they weren't going particularly fast so the raft just comes to a grinding halt. 

The tiefling sighs and tries to dislodge them using the pole. 

There's a blooping noise not far off to the side, like something bubbled up from the water. Zarius glances towards the noise and notices a few more humanoid shadows standing amongst the trees around them. He slowly stands back up and pulls the pole from the water. 

The shapes remain unmoving, but there's a ghastly voice that calls out to the pair across the marshland. 

"Leeeeeeeaaaaaveeeeeeeee."

"We will after our business is over." Zarius replies calmly.

If this was all a farce and not actually malignant spirits, they should be able to talk their way out of a fight. 

"Leeeeeaaaveeee whiiiiile yoooooou stiiiiill caaaaaan."

The humanoid forms move closer, seemingly hovering above the water by a foot or so. They sway a bit as they come to a stop still far enough to not see any defining features but close enough to start making it feel like they were surrounded.

Iryla’s hand drifts to the dagger strapped to her waist, just hidden under a light over coat. Mere metal likely would not be useful against a spectral being of the undead, but if they were about to be ambushed by something decidedly more mortal, Iryla would be ready for it.

She looks over to Zarius as their boat grinds to a halt, her brow furrowed with concern. It didn’t seem like he was able to move them any further, which meant something under the water must have them caught. It could just be an overgrown root or some kind of rock, but the timing of the whole thing seemed suspiciously unfortunate.

When she sees Zarius look over to the side, Iryla’s eyes follow the direction of his, and narrow when she spots a humanoid form in the distance.

Her companion attempts to speak with the so-called spirits, but they don’t drop the act for him.

“Zarius… What are the chances this is your contact fucking with us, or actual ghosts…?” She murmurs to him questioningly. She’s still eyeing the hovering form carefully wary.

Iryla’s grip on her dagger’s handle tightens. She doesn’t like being surrounded like this. Her heart began to beat just a bit faster as adrenaline began to pump through her blood. But she wouldn’t move until Zarius gave her the word.

She’d prove here and now he made the right choice in bringing her.

"Fifty percent."

It could go either way honestly. He had dealt with ghostly entities before. With Veliky. All the crazy shit happened whenever he crossed paths with that bossy little quarterling. He half expected her to just randomly show up, rising out of the bog atop some massive mechanical abomination constructed out of the scrap metal left behind by the unsuspecting victims of her unrelenting scrutiny.

The mental image would almost make him chuckle if they weren't in such a tense situation. 

As the figures close in, Zarius notices something about the way they move. They do not glide over, they sway, as if they were suspended by some sort of tether. His eyes glance upwards towards the canopies of the trees.

He's about to say something to Iryla before he stops, taking note of the grip on her daggers and the determined look on her face. It was pretty clear to him that this was a farce, but Iryla was ready to pounce. What actions would she take? Would she figure out the deception? Or would she left fear dictate her next move? Now was a good time to test that.

While he was ready to strike at the nearing figures, he instead turns his attention back to dislodging the raft. 

"Watch my back. Use your better judgement. If you think these things are a threat, act accordingly."

He jabs the pole into the mud so it doesn't float away before he jumps into the dark, murky water. It's just deep enough to go over his head, which meant if he wanted to get any leverage, he would have to go under the raft.

"Be careful not to lose your footing. I am going to try and lift it off whatever it is caught on from below."

With that, he takes a deep breath and disappears under the surface. 

Meanwhile, the figures drift ever close to them, closing in on all sides. 

"Leeeeeeeeaaaaaveeeeeee."

Fifty-Fifty wasn’t great odds to be going into this situation with. Though Iryla wasn’t sure which outcome she would prefer right now. She had never encountered a spirit before, and the very idea of it sent shivers down her spine. But what harm could a ghost really do to her and Zarius?

No, it wasn’t specters she feared. Man was likely the more dangerous beast to get tangled up with in these swampy waters.

Her eyes don’t leave the encroaching shadows as Zarius slips into the water, but she still gives him a nod to show that she has heard his instructions. As he disappears into the murky depths she adjusts her stance, widening the distance between her feet and bending her knees a little more to keep herself steady even as the boat rocks and creaks beneath her.

She fucking hates boats. She had never been on one before now, but this was enough for her to decide she hates them.

"Leeeeeeeeaaaaaveeeeeee."

That ghostly howl sends a shiver through her. Were these apparitions suddenly louder, suddenly closer now that Zarius wasn’t by her side? Iryla couldn’t be sure. It feels like they’re closing in on her now and the feeling of being surrounded dredges up the barest spark of panic in her chest.

But Zarius told her to watch his back. He told her to use her better judgement. And her better judgement doesn’t involve panicking. It doesn’t involve shouting with fright even as that unearthly voice rings through the mist and the trees again.

“Leaaaveeee thisssssss plaaacceeeeeeeeeee- Leeeaaavveeeeeeeeee–”

The apparitions are definitely closer than they were before now, barely feet between them and the edges of the boat. They sway above the water menacingly, and-

… Wait a second. Sway?

Iryla’s eyes dart towards the canopy of trees and an angry grimace twists at her mouth when she finally sees the ploy here.

She lets loose her dagger and it makes a satisfying thunking noise where it buries itself in a tree’s limb. Below that one of the so-called ‘spirits’ splashes into the water, revealing itself to be nothing more than a pile of sheets and a broken wire.

Ghost her ass.

“That’s enough. Whoever you are, show yourself now.” The half-elf barks out with a surprising ferocity. Somewhere in the trees she hears a distressed yelp and a responding ‘Shhhhh!’

Those sounded like kids voices, much younger than her own.

Fucking kids?!

“I’ll give you one more chance to get out here in the open before I go looking for you all myself.”

After a moment or two under the murky surface of the water, Zarius manages to dislodge the raft from the knot of roots that it had gotten jammed against. Before coming back to the surface, he obscures himself with a veil of invisibility.^[1] He slowly breaks the water's surface in order to maintain as much of his stealth as possible and looks around as Iryla figures out that the ghosts are fakes. 

He pinpoints where one of the voices came from and slowly wades over there until he slips around behind a tree and climbs up onto the side of the trunk. Scaling the side of the tall cypress tree, he gets to a suspended platform hidden amongst the hanging vines and mosses where one of the ghost puppeteers is crouched.^[2]

Reaching over the edge of the platform, he grabs their ankle and quickly pulls them back and flings them down into the water. 

"AAAH!"

The prankster hits the water with a splash and comes up coughing, but more or less unharmed from the sudden fall. 

"Wait! Stop!" A voice echoes out from the gloom.

"Better do as the lady asks then." The tiefling calls out across the marsh.

The soft glow of lantern light illuminates the forest around them, revealing the floating figures are nothing more than cloaks adorning some swamp wood shaped to vaguely resemble heads and shoulders and hanging from some thin lines that are nearly impossible to make out in the dark. The light also reveals an individual who stands sideways on the trunk of a tree, slightly hunched over and with clearly webbed hands. 

A few other figures peer from around the trees, all shorter in stature and with faces camouflaged with mud. The one in the water swims over to a tree and pulls themselves up onto a root. 

The hooded figure shakes their head and peers up into the trees where Zarius is standing with his arms folded. 

"You are as much of a brute as your father and his father before him!"

Zarius smirks and scoffs. 

"I will take the comparison to my father as a compliment, but do not compare either of us to my grandfather or I will feed you what remains of your teeth."

"Bah, you two are no fun." The figure replies, its beady frog-like eyes looking down at Iryla. "You should get out of his line of work while you still can, child. Nothing good will come of it."

"Oh, is my coin not good enough for you anymore?" Zarius calls. 

The hooded figure huffs. "Business is business, children are this Charon's future. Future is better off with fewer scoundrels the likes of us."

"That is quite a contradictory thing to say when you clearly have surrounded yourself with impressionable young pranksters. Tell me, how is teaching kids how to haunt travelers going to better Charon?"

"Hmph."

---

[1] Invisibility
[2] Spider Silk Boots

Iryla jerks her face in the direction of a shrill scream and loud splash, ready to move into action despite now realizing this was all just some kind of un-funny joke. But her defensiveness is unneeded as voices call for them to stop and lantern like illuminates the woods.

Light glimmers on the surface of the water below as Iryla blinks and looks at new faces. Zarius was there again, a little wetter but no worse for wear. He seems to be in better shape than the child who was their little ‘ghost’, who took a much less dignified swim in these murky waters.

She is quiet as Zarius speaks to the strange, froglike figure. Her eyes carefully look between the both of them, clearly assessing Zarius’ contact and the way the two of them interact with each other.

And then she is being addressed instead of Zarius.

Her nose wrinkles at being called a child. It wasn’t like she was a little kid, she was fully capable of taking care of herself. But previous experience told her that protesting the ‘child’ title would usually lead to older people doubling down and viewing her in an even more childish light, so she bit her tongue instead of letting out a snarky comment.

Well… Maybe one snarky comment would be fine.

“It’s a little late for me to get out of this, I think.” The half-elf replied with a glance towards Zarius’ way. “You’re a couple years too late if you want to warn me off the path of a scoundrel.” At least now under Cryan and Zarius she was a clean and housed scoundrel, even if they did encourage her tendencies as a little thief and sneak.

“Could be worse, at least I’ve got someone teaching me and looking out for me.”

Okay, that was a few more than just one snarky comment. 

The hooded figure grumbles, clearly not a fan of either Zarius or Iryla’s snark.

“Next time just…don’t bother coming out here! I hate visitors.”

Zarius just gives the man an unimpressed look.

With a swing of his arms, the hooded figure leaps off of the tree and lands on the end of the raft Iryla is on, nearly launching her into the air like the floating platform was a springboard. Once the raft stops bobbing, the man straightens up, towering over Iryla by a few feet, his beady eyes glowering down at her.

Being up close and personal with the hooded figure, Iryla could now see they were some sort of amphibian folk, covered in slimy warty skin with a wide mouth and webbed hands and feet. Unlike a lizard folk, they have no tail, and they are wearing some scrappy leather armor under the tattered and mud stained cloak.

The frogman snorts a bit and rummages around in a bag slung over their shoulder.

“You’re young, still plenty of time to get out, make an honest living for yourself.” He glances to the side as Zarius makes his way over to the raft.

The frogman leans in close and whispers to Iryla. “He’ll burn you, child. Mark my words.”

He backs off just as Zarius hops over to the raft which definitely sinks a bit under their combined weight with the large frogman.

“Here. As promised. Now get out of my swamp.” He forces a leather and twine wrapped package into the tiefling’s hand rather unceremoniously.

Zarius takes it and feels the heft of it before putting it in his own satchel. “Always a pleasure doing business with you.”

“Don’t come back.” The frogman turns and gives Iryla one last glance. “Good luck, child, you'll need it.”

The frogman squats and then bounds off of the end of the raft, leaping over to the nearest tree and scaling it with ease. As the situation resolves, the ‘ghosts’ are drawn back along their pulleys and the young folk in the trees start to retreat into the gloom of the forest. One of them waves at Iryla before disappearing behind a tree.

Zarius huffs and retrieves the pole.

“Good work.” He says to Iryla without looking at her as he starts to shove the raft back the way they came. “I suppose I should have warned you this contact is a bit of a blowhard.”

Iryla says nothing more as Zarius and his strange contact conclude whatever their business may be. She keeps her expression carefully neutral even through the whispered and not-so whispered warnings in her ear.

She wasn’t an idiot, no matter how young she may be. Of course she knew that her association with Zarius would likely one day leave her burned. But there was something to be said about controlled flames. Even a wildfire could be beneficial if it burned away the dead and rot. Not that Iryla thought she ever might be the one to control Zarius’ flame.

But she could still warm her hands here, until it grew too hot for her to stand.


Returning the wave with a small one of her own, Iryla sticks close to Zarius’ side as they finally make their way out of this gods forsaken bog. Next time, Snow could tag along to the Marsh Flats. She’d rather stay home.

“I think you have a habit of collecting eccentric people.” The half-elf huffs, though she doesn’t actually sound very irritated. “Do I even want to know what all of this was even about?” A pause. “No, probably not. Can we go home now? I’ve decided I don’t like the water.”

No. There were many things about Zarius that Iryla had no desire to know. Though she was naturally curious, she knew better. The more she knew, the more danger she’d be in. The bigger a liability.

She had no intentions of becoming one of those dead things in need of burning away.

“And boats. I don’t like boats.”