Arcane: Painted Tapestries

Violet was starting to get worried.

Ever since meeting with that stranger in the alleyway a few days ago, Powder had become increasingly withdrawn, not leaving the room they shared for any other reason than to eat or drink.

The blue-haired girl also refused to talk to Violet about what was going on, saying it was a secret, which hadn't ever happened before. 

They had never kept secrets from each other. Until now…

The older girl felt like there was an ever-increasing divide between them, and not knowing what to do to remedy it, she was on her way to ask Vander for help.

The man would know what to do, he always did.

Violet strode through the marketplace, heading straight towards her adoptive father's bar.

She heard a cry of, "Stop, thief!" Turning just in time to see a small kid run past her, barely catching a glimpse of his short, fuzzy white hair underneath the large hood he wore.

Ugh, looks like the little man was at it again, disturbing the peace as always.

An unpleasantly overweight man blundered after the boy, knocking over many of the now-angry crowd who yelled an array of curses after him.

Violet sighed, holding out a foot and tripping the fat man up as he ran in front of her.

His wide face hit the dirty, cobbled street below them, his secondary chin shielding him from most of the harmful impact.

Many in the crowd laughed as he fell, having seen the ridiculous prices he tried to sell his wares for. This kind of thing had been coming for a long time, and they all enjoyed watching the fleshy man get knocked down a peg or two.

"You fucking brat!" He shouted, whipping around to look at the unimpressed teenager staring down at him.

"Oops." Violet shrugged, her face impassive. "It was a mistake, honest."

"Like hell it was!" The man yelled, struggling to his feet and getting right up into the girl's face.

"I outta beat the shit out of you, girl." He spat, slamming his massive palm into the middle of the girl's chest, pushing her away.

Violet stumbled back, the difference in their weight being far too much for her to eat the hit like she had wanted to do.

"Try me." She snarled, bringing up her hand as if she were about to punch the overweight man, waiting carefully until both of his piggy eyes locked solely onto her bandage-covered fist.

The girl then raised her left leg and stamped her booted foot onto his exposed kneecap, causing him to yell out in pain at the unexpected hit.

The attack crippled the obese man's movement and knocked him ass-first onto the street, eyes watering. His gaze was filled with unfettered rage as he stared hatefully at Violet, committing her face to memory.

This public shaming would not go unpunished. He had money saved up for this kind of eventuality. He would have his revenge.

A few passers-by sneered at the man's disgraceful showing before going on their way. Being beaten to the ground by an unarmed child - laughable.

It wouldn't surprise Violet if more and more people started to steal from his stall now, with her actions probably ending the man's comfortable livelihood as he knew it. 

The man might actually have to drop his ridiculous prices now, she mused, turning away and continuing onwards to The Last Drop.

Violet pushed open the door and stepped inwards, the hot air inside of the establishment warming up her freezing limbs. She shivered, the season of frost was hands down the worst time of the year.

The place was mostly empty, with only an odd-looking Zonai drinking quietly in the rightmost corner.

Violet had gotten used to the demi-human races that either inhabited or passed through the Undercity, not batting an eyelid at the dark grey fur covering the man's body.

Instead, she strode up to the counter and yelled Vander's name into the back, the Zonai's ears twitching sensitively at the sudden volume.

A set of heavy footsteps could be heard making their way from one of the rooms behind the counter, stopping for a second before the door separating the two areas opened.

The large, bearded man known as Vander stomped through, looking at her apprehensively.

"Violet? What are you doing here? You and the rest don't normally come here at this hour."

The girl hesitated, unsure as to how she should go about explaining her situation.

"It's Powder. She- She's been acting different lately."

Vander looked down at his daughter's worried gaze, sighing uncomfortably at the rare distress that haunted her concerned face.

"Come sit down." He said reassuringly, motioning Violet towards one of the stools in front of him. "And tell me everything."

—

"Hmm." Said Vander, now understanding the reason behind her unhappiness. Callian could have given the girl anything, be that heartfelt advice or maybe something more down-to-earth. 

There was really no way to tell until Powder decided to open up and tell them about it.

He hadn't seen the man in about a week and just assumed the newcomer had left the Undercity.

Vander didn't think that forcing this issue was the best idea, believing whatever Callian had given his youngest couldn't have been that dangerous, or she would have refused it.

Powder had a good head on her shoulders, despite her emotional immaturity.

Vander opened his mouth to share this opinion with Violet, before the door to the bar opened again, his grey eyes instead flicking to look at who was about to enter.

A familiar figure stepped over the threshold, his large cloak having been trimmed since their last meeting; with its hem now hovering just above the wooden flooring, revealing a smidgen of his metallic footwear.

'Speak of the devil and he shall appear.' Thought Vander.

"You… What are you doing here?" Said Violet, slamming her hands onto the counter furiously and standing up.

The man walked up to the counter, unfazed by her accusatory tone; instead pulling out a sizeable pouch and dropping it in front of Vander's seated figure.

"For the wine." He said simply, ignoring the pink-haired tomboy standing next to him.

Vander loosened the strings binding it shut, widening the gap in the cloth with his fingers before taking a peek inside.

"Hey! I'm talking to you." Called out Violet, voice raising in annoyance at the man's disregard of her. She reached out to grab the stranger by his shoulder and pull him to face her.

To her surprise however, she felt Vander's large hand enclose around her forearm, stopping the somewhat violent action.

"What-" She let out, glancing towards her guardian in dismay at his interference.

Her question was stopped short when she saw how serious her father's face looked.

"Violet, how about you go take this pouch to the sink and give it a wash." Said Vander, his grey eyes staring down into the stranger's dark hood. His tone was commanding and left her no room for refusal.

The teen was shocked out of her mind by the man's words. Vander never called her by her full name. Ever.

Something was up.

She nodded curtly and Vander tightened the pouch again, sliding it across the counter towards her.

The simple motion spread a reddish trail across the counter's pristine surface and Violet motioned to pick the object up, only for some of the viscous liquid to drip down onto her bandaged hands.

Her eyes widened as she realised the sticky substance coating her fingers was: blood.

She vaulted the counter and headed for the sink, quickly dropping the heavy pouch into the dirty water. Blood pooled outwards into it, corrupting the liquid's natural transparency with a blooming red fog.

Bloodstained coins filled every inch of free space within the bundle, the sheer amount of currency contained inside it making her jaw drop.

The total value of the pouch must have exceeded fifty-thousand Marks, judging by the weight of it.

Violet had never seen so much money in one place during her entire life.

Wasn't the stranger a new face in town?

"That money pays off far more than one drink." Said Vander, watching as Callian made himself comfortable on the now vacant stool in front of him. "No matter the quality of the wine I served you."

"Then get me another." He said lightly, before his tone darkened, eyes flashing dangerously as he addressed the lone Zonai sitting in the corner of the room. "And you in the corner, get out. I dislike eavesdroppers."

The beastman's catlike ears flinched at being caught out, his grey fur standing on end as he hastened to leave the bar.

It was a rather cruel thing to do when considering how sensitive Zonai were to Salgi, but it was necessary. *

Only after the unwanted listener had scurried out of the building did he finally drop his hood, revealing his animalistic mask and dark blue hair to the large man across from him.

Vander stared at him unblinkingly, before reaching down under the counter to fetch the same combination of medium-sized glass and fine red wine that he had served to Callian at their first meeting.

"And the rest of it?" He asked, leaning forward. This prompted a thoughtful 'Hmmm' from the blue-haired man opposite him, who took the now quarter-full glass and pulled it towards him.

"Put it on my tab." Said Callian, ignoring the larger man's oppressive attitude.

Vander was just about done beating around the bush now, that kind of money didn't just appear out of thin air, and definitely not in the state he had received it in.

People might come looking for it. The wrong kind of people.

"There are better ways to buy my favour than with stolen blood money." He growled, slamming his heavy palm onto the countertop, making the heavy furniture tremble under the sheer force he had applied to the hit. "Where did you get it from?"

"Are there?" Asked Callian inquisitively, popping his head around the barkeeper's massive frame and taking a look at Violet, who was still staring down in awe at the money Vander had passed to her. "Your daughter looks quite happy with it though."

The girl at least had the decency to blush and look away, feeling ashamed at being bought so easily.

Vander looked ready to explode with frustration, not appreciating the comment that could quite easily been considered a threat; nor the easygoing attitude Callian had while they were discussing something so important.

Just as he was about to demand an answer to his second question, the bar's doors creaked open once more.

A happy shout of, "Vi, Vander, Look! I did it! Bloomer works!" echoed across the room.

"Callian!?" Asked Powder, recognising the blue-haired man; her face lighting up in childish joy. "You're back! I thought you were gone for good."

"Little Powder. How has my gift been treating you?" Said Callian, a rare smile crossing his usually solemn face.

"It helped a lot! Look!" The girl ran up to him proudly and held up a small, patched-up sphere that was made out of various pieces of junkyard scrap. "I made one. It works! I tested the design - a lot."

Callian noticed Vander stiffening up at his youngest daughter's close proximity to him.

The large man knew he wouldn't be able to reach Powder in time if Callian decided to do something to his daughter.

This fact stayed his hand for the time being, at least until his daughter had moved out of Callian's reach.

A small set of eyes and a cartoonishly sharp grin were drawn onto the grenade's rough surface, likely scribbled on with a variety of differently coloured crayons.

The sight made him nostalgic, had it been that long already?

An authentic, handmade work.

"Excellent work little one, I knew I saw potential in you." He said, stroking the girl's cyan-coloured hair.

Powder preened under his attention, an unexpected happiness bubbling inside of her.

Violet stared at Callian dazedly. Powder hated being called a child, or any nickname that reminded her of how young she was. Nobody was excluded from the silent treatment she usually gave in response, including her and Vander.

"Powder, what did he give you?" Asked Vander carefully, feeling a bit stumped as he saw his daughter's reaction to the masked man's unexpected approval.

"I gave her a gift that only someone of rather her unique talents would be able to enjoy." Cut in Callian smoothly, taking the sphere from Powder and examining it.

"He gave me a smoke bomb." Said Powder helpfully, climbing onto one of the stools to sit next to the masked man. "I took it apart to figure out how it worked. Now mine work too."

This piece of information did not fly over Vander's head, the fact that Callian had tried to hide the nature of his gift to her.

The stranger had smoke bombs too?

"Wait, so the reason you didn't talk to me for days was because of this?" Burst out Violet, gesturing at the grenade held in Callian's grip.

"I did say it was a secret, Bloomer wasn't ready yet…"

Vander kneaded his temples at the oncoming headache. At least that was one problem sorted.

"Ugh, for a moment I thought… Never mind." The older girl finished lamely, feeling a little relieved at the simple explanation.

"Come on, I wanna show it to you. To all of you." Said the little girl, cheering up as Callian handed her creation back.

"Maybe later Powder." Said Vander uneasily, the matter of Callian's blood money now back at the forefront of his mind. "Me and Callian have some business to discuss before that."

The man in question tilted his head to the side owlishly, feeling a tad amused by Vander's consistently cautious nature. "Rest assured Vander, not a single Mark in that pouch could possibly be traced back to you. I made sure of that."

"Are you sure?" Asked the bearded man, eyeing him strongly.

"Absolutely. There isn't a doubt in my mind."

Powder looked confused at the vague back-and-forth between the two men, picking up on the only word she recognised, 'Mark'.

"He gave you money? How much? And for what?" She asked, failing to notice the tense expression her adoptive father was wearing.

"I bought a lifetime supply of red wine from your father." Said Callian sarcastically, flashing Vander an egocentric smirk which made him sigh in relief.

A demand like that weighed far easier on his burgeoning conscience than an unspecified debt.

"A lifetime supply huh? I think you're quite a few Marks short if you want to buy that." Said Violet, walking towards him and leaning over his glass to sniff the red liquid contained inside, much to Callian's amusement. "This is top-notch stuff."

Powder looked outraged at her sister's attempt to con her newest friend.

Callian on the other hand actually snorted into his drink however, the gall of the pink-haired teen staring at him innocently made the man burst out with laughter.

Even he was surprised at his capacity to laugh at such a thing.

More than that though, it seemed like the girl standing before him was still a little shit - even at this young of an age.

"I only drink once every seven sunsets little girl, so it may as well be infinite. Besides, I can tell the worth of what I was drinking by the taste. Do not try and lie to me."

"Worth a try." She shrugged unapologetically. "You wouldn't believe what we can charge some people."

Vander let out a chuckle of his own, neither confirming nor denying his potentially immoral business practices.

The large man was still wary about Callian and his intentions, but after seeing his youngest daughter's more than positive reaction to him, decided to take a leap of faith.

He would trust the man for now. But if that changed for the worse… Then he would have to step in. **

The man only hoped such a scenario wouldn't come to pass, and if it did, that he was in time to protect the kids before something happened to them.

Vander glanced towards the wooden support beams that ran over their heads, focusing in on the bulky pair of crude, metallic gauntlets hanging there.

He hadn't worn them in quite some time, but he still had faith in the monstrous strength that he had used to rally many of the Undercity's people behind him back in his youth.

His brutal skillset had only improved since that time after all.

"A finite amount of drinks then." Said Vander aloud, making Callian raise an eyebrow at his rather precise wording. "I'll know exactly once your tab is void, don't you worry."

The masked man shrugged, finishing the rest of his wine before pulling up his hood and hiding his hair within it once more, preparing to leave. "I'll see you around Vander, Powder."

Callian slid off the stool, his unnatural heaviness causing the seat to creak loudly underneath his shifting weight.

Vander waved two fingers in farewell, before the cloaked man exited the bar, leaving the familial trio behind him.

"Ah!" Exclaimed Powder, suddenly remembering she wanted to show off her creation to the blue-haired man. "I forgot to show him Bloomer working."

"Vi, c'mon." She grabbed her elder sister's hand and pulled Violet towards the door, wanting to pursue Callian outside.

A slight rattling sound reached Vander's ears. He ignored the noise however, assuming it was originating from Powder's new toy, the thing certainly looked unstable enough.

The pink-haired girl looked towards Vander anxiously.

She remembered the bloodstained coins and Vander's earlier warnings about the stranger.

Despite her seemingly confident attitude earlier, the casual nature with which the man had deposited the bloody Marks on Vander's counter had intimidated her, even if she wouldn't admit it aloud.

People didn't do something like that in front of Vander, nobody did.

She was still worried about her sister's safety and looked back to their father for advice as to whether to stop Powder from going after him or not.

He gave her a grim shake of the head, knowing that trying to prevent Powder from following Callian was already a lost cause.

She would only become more stubborn at his disapproval, which could eventually lead to the girl starting to ignore his advice altogether.

That would be disastrous, especially considering where they lived.

She was like her mother in that aspect, both of the girls were. Never giving in to anyone or anything when they put their minds towards something.

As his daughters both ran out of the bar, Vander walked over to the sink and retrieved the pouch from its bloody waters.

The bundle felt considerably lighter than it had done earlier.

He looked inside.

There was a substantial amount of money missing from it.

The man sighed.

Those girls would be the death of him someday. ***

—

* Salgi is another word for killing intent; if you know where this term comes from consider yourself a walking W.

** You have no idea how cringey this felt to write.

*** I actually started smirking while writing this line, I'm a terrible person I know.

—

(Total word count: 3215)