Dreamer's Throne

Turning his chair, Garrett looked out of the window, gazing into the street, his mind turning the situation over and over. He could practically guarantee Parrow's response to the situation, but it wouldn't matter. When word began to spread that Parrow's fine goods had produced soap that gave the people who used it swamp rot, the most likely outcome would be Parrow's fine goods losing the bulk of their customers.

Garrett knew all too well how fickle the human heart was, which was part of the reason that he wanted to send Carraway to give soap for free to the afflicted customers. After all, none of them had asked to be part of the conflict between him and Marcus Parrow. Parrow would, of course, try for damage control. And when that failed, and the pressure on him grew too great, he would undoubtedly send someone after Garrett's life.

The only question was, should Garrett strike preemptively, nipping the threat in the bud? After thinking through the pros and cons, Garrett made up his mind and then turned his attention to the accounts, working through all of the reports piled up on his desk.

That night, he was as busy as always. But the first thing he did was visit a certain city guard commander. Captain Fernik had been promoted to Commander Fernik and had been given authority over all of the guard stations in the Northern District. It was a position that on the surface, had considerable power. However, Fernik had been disappointed to discover that, in reality, he was little more than a glorified messenger, taking directions from above and distributing them to the various captains who ran the watch houses. He was just reflecting bitterly on how the only thing all his effort had gained him was an extra badge when Garrett pulled him into the dream.

Nothing around the captain changed except for a five-color flower that bloomed in the mirror, transforming into the image of a masked man who regarded the terrified captain evenly. Swallowing, Captain Fernik bowed.

"Hello, sir.”

“No need for that," Garrett said, waving his hand. "I understand that you're discontent with your position, but just be patient. You may be surprised at what it affords you."

Garrett's words caused a thrill of excitement to run through the captain, and he perked up, paying careful attention to what Garrett said next.

"One of our benefactors is concerned over the recent epidemic and wishes the perpetrator to be brought to justice. Marcus Parrow, of Parrow's Fine Goods, has been selling soap that causes the users to break out in swamp rot. Such a thing is an affront to the nobles of our city, especially when he has the audacity to sell it for such an exorbitant price. Take him into custody, under charge of colluding with outsiders to undermine the strength of this city."

The charge Garrett listed was just as silly as what he had once been brought to prison for by Captain Fernik, a truth that wasn't lost on the commander. Still, he took a deep breath and nodded.

"I'll go first thing in the morning," he said.

"Better to wait till 10," Garrett replied. "After all, the bigger the crowd, the better."

With that, he vanished, leaving Commander Fernik to figure out how to carry out his orders. True to his word, the captain arrived at the appointed time. Commander Fernik had organized three watch houses, dragging them all to Marcus Parrow's mansion early in the morning and staking out the building to ensure that the merchant wouldn't have the opportunity to run away.

Ever sensitive to the presence of the city guard, the local citizenry could tell that something was going to go down, and as time dragged on, more and more of them gathered. Still, the guard didn't make a move until finally Marcus Parrow couldn't stand it anymore and threw open his door, marching straight up to the commander to ask him what in the blazes was going on.

His face as cold as stone, Commander Fernik gestured, and one of the captains stepped forward and began to read the charges. Garrett had suggested treason, or at least collusion with forces outside of the city. The commander had taken that charge and gotten wildly creative, producing a list of almost 17 crimes, all linked to the soap that Parrow had sold and the ill effects it had brought.

He had dug up obscure laws originally intended to help stop the spread of disease and cited multiple legal precedents under which a merchant could be held responsible for the harm his goods caused. As soon as the list began to be read, Parrow tried to stop it, but Commander Fernik gestured and two burly city guards grabbed the protesting merchant. When he wouldn't be quiet, Fernik had him gagged, tied up, and carried to the jail wagon to be carted off to the prison.

After that, streams of the city guard forced their way into Parrow's house, intimidating the servants and seizing anything that looked like it could be remotely connected to Parrow's business. It was a testament to Marcus Parrow's connections that, within ten minutes of being grabbed, multiple nobles filed complaints against Commander Fernik and the whole proceedings, complaints which he completely ignored, claiming that he was working in the city's best interest.

As things began to heat up, however, the captain quickly found himself getting out of his depth. He was in his office, being roundly scolded by three noblemen, when one of his men knocked on his door, a strange expression on his face.

"Excuse me, sir."

Taking the opportunity to escape from the noblemen's ranting, Commander Fernik got up and swiftly walked to the door where the guard was standing.

"Yes, what is it?"

"I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but we have someone who wants to confess."

Fernik's forehead furrowed as uncertainty filled him.

"Confess? Confess about what?"

Swallowing, the city guard glanced at the noblemen, whose expressions had gone pale, and stepped aside, revealing a thin man with a small mustache and a permanent sneer on his face. With a flourishing bow, he addressed Commander Fernik.

"I am Boris Gibbons," he said in his high-pitched voice, "one of the overseers who works for Parrow's Fine Goods."

Still confused about what was happening, Commander Fernik watched as Boris straightened, a faint rainbow flash appearing briefly in his eyes.

"I've come to turn myself in and to reveal the immoral truth behind Marcus Parrow's business practices."

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"What is this?"

Hearing an angry shout from one of the noblemen behind him, Commander Fernik turned around and fixed the man with a glare.

"Do not get in the way of the city guard doing its job, or you may well just find yourself in the same position as Mr. Parrow."

Before the nobleman could protest, another city guard ran in.

"Sir, someone else has come forward."

Every eye turned towards the doorway, where Parrow's butler now stood. Noticing a familiar gleam in the old man's eyes, Captain Fernik suddenly laughed, all of his worries about the repercussions for what he was doing evaporating under the rainbow glow that flashed across the butler's eyes.

Though Garrett was nowhere near the prison, he had Somnia keep an eye on what was happening, sending him updates as the situation developed. It had always been in his mind to use Parrow's own people to expose the man's misdeeds, and it had been as simple as directing Somnia to plant seeds in the overseer and butler.

In many ways, his overlord flower operated as an extension of himself, acting almost as another mind that could be set to tasks independently, problem-solving and coming up with solutions as necessary. Even as everyone was watching what was happening with Parrow and his soap, Garrett's attention was mostly focused on Gero Twin blade and the Ebony Association.

With every day that passed, the flowers that had taken root in the Ebony Association's members grew, increasing Garrett's connection with them and slowly beginning to influence them to have a positive attitude toward the Klein family. On the third day after he had visited Gero and performed the show, in her dream, Garrett called Ryn and requested that she accompany him over to the Ebony Association headquarters. They didn't bring anybody else with them, at least anybody that could be seen. As was his normal practice, Garrett had a swarm of flower ghouls hiding underground, along with Delrisa and a few of her necromancers, and Isabelle hitched a ride on a silver ring he wore on his thumb.

The fact that a gang leader had just walked into another gang's territory completely unannounced, with no visible protection, startled everyone who heard it, and Gero, who had been examining the latest batch of goods brought into their warehouses, hurried back to the mansion to meet him.

She was afraid that some of her men, in their frustration, might act out. But when she got there, she found them all chatting happily. A few of the men had confused expressions on their faces, as if they weren't quite sure why they were having such a good conversation with Garrett. But every time they thought about taking him hostage, they found themselves swept with a strong aversion to anything of the sort.

When Gero arrived, breathing heavily from her run, she was met by a loud wave of laughter as the adventurers laughed at one of Ryn's jokes. Garrett, who had been mostly quiet, had Ryn wheel him forward and bowed from the waist.

"Greetings,” he said, his voice soft, “I'm here to deliver something to you."

He took out a single sheet of paper that had been sitting beside him and held it out to Gero, whose eyes widened as she read over it. It was a simple agreement, granting the Ebony Association full rights to bring their goods through the Klein family territory, without having to pay any sort of fee. What was even more startling, however, was that it wasn't just signed by Garrett, but also bore Cynen's signature as well, written so that it looked like she was guaranteeing the authenticity of the document.

Down in the corner was a simple symbol of a five-petaled flower, shimmering in rainbow color. Ever since experiencing that vivid dream, Gero had not been able to get the sight of that symbol out of her head, and even now she could feel the golden mask she had tucked into her clothing, pressing up against her skin. With his delivery done, Garrett bowed again, and then asked Ryn to escort him out, leaving Gero standing there, staring at the paper that had just solved her biggest problem.

"Wait," Gero called out as Ryn pushed Garrett out into the yard. "Hold on."

She came striding out after them, her eyes blazing. Feeling the pressure Gero exuded. Ryn tensed, her hand drifting towards her dagger. Garrett, on the other hand, just gazed calmly at the leader of the Ebony Association, waiting for her to speak her mind.

"Who is he? What is this?"

Giving Gero a faintly disapproving look, Garrett shrugged.

"That is a free pass to bring your goods through our territory without having to pay any fee. As for why you're holding it, it's because I was instructed to give it to you."

Shifting slightly in his chair, the cloth covering Garrett's legs moved to the side, revealing a sliver of crimson red. Spotting it, Gero realized it must be one of the crimson masks, just like the mask Garrett's figure had worn in the dream.

"The figure on the throne," Gero said, her voice growing quiet. "Who is he?"

"Not someone whose name should be spoken," Garrett replied curtly. “Someone whose power is beyond anything you can imagine.”

Without saying anything further, he gestured for Ryn to bring him to the carriage. As they rode out of the yard, he glanced back through the window and saw Gero was still standing in front of the mansion, the contract in her hand. As he turned and looked forward, he caught sight of Ryn's glare, and slowly his eyebrows rose.

"Is something the matter?" He asked.

"It feels like it, even though I know it's not," Ryn replied, her voice snappy. "I'm sure you're going to tell me it's all part of the plan. Problem is, I don't know anything about the plan, and from where I'm sitting, it looks like we just gave the enemy a major win."

"Who said that they were the enemy?" Garrett asked.

Opening her mouth to retort, Ryn couldn't find any words, and finally just shook her head. For most of the rest of the ride, they were quiet, but as they were pulling into the yard of the Dreamer's Inn, Garrett finally spoke.

"There will be a day when we have an unassailable position. But until then, what we need more than anything else are allies. Allies who won't betray us. Allies who will fight alongside us in times of desperate need. Allies who can watch our back even as we watch theirs. The Grave Walkers are one such organization. I think that the Ebony Association may be as well. What we're doing right now is investing with the hope that they will join us."

"And if they don't?" Ryn asked, "What happens if they just take advantage of that agreement?"

Glancing out the window at the Inn's door, Garrett shrugged, "then they no longer need to exist."

Back at the Ebony Association's headquarters, Gero was still standing on the steps, her expression unreadable as she stared down at the piece of paper in her hand.

"Hey, boss?" Hearing a voice behind her, she turned and saw one of her lieutenants staring at her in some confusion.

"What is it?"

Scratching his head as if he didn't understand what it was he was about to do, he spoke carefully, as if thinking about each word before he uttered it.

"Boss, I've got this strange feeling I'm supposed to give you a message."

"A message? What kind of message?"

"Um, Paskal chose poorly. Yeah, Paskal chose poorly. That's it."

As soon as she heard those words, another voice echoed in Gero's mind. It was the words said by the mysterious giant on the throne, just before the dream had ended. At the time, she hadn't taken it to be a threat, but now, hearing what her lieutenant was saying, the words seemed to shift in their meaning. If she didn't choose within a week, the giant would choose for her.

The words conjured an image of Paskal's broken neck from the depths of her memory, and a slight shudder ran through her. She had never liked Paskal, and was actually glad that he had died. Their alliance had been one of convenience, not preference, but the way he had been killed had been upsetting. His strength was on par with almost every shaper in the city. Yet he had been killed without even getting a chance to fight back, his neck snapped like a twig. With one last look down the street where Garrett’s carriage had disappeared, Gero turned and headed into the old mansion, the distinct feeling that everything was beginning to close in around her weighing heavily on her.