The Old Realms

Grimdux

I. This is the direct sequel to Touch O' Luck

 Touch O' Luck

 

 

II) It serves as a prologue to the Old Realms series.

It will be a superior reading experience

to start this story from the beginning

 

Please give it a good rating if you liked it, it will help the story reach a much bigger audience:)

Chapter specific maps of the realms 

Maps of the Realms

 

 

 

Whisper Jinx

There are no coincidences.

 

 

 

 

The Gish curved her waist backwards on the stool, raised an injured leg impossibly high and straight, in an astounding display of gymnastics and positioned it heel first, on the table Glen was returning with his plate. She wiggled her toes inside the boot, to test it with a frown, when she felt it hurt a bit still.

“Do you mind moving it away?” Glen asked, knifing a piece of his cold steak and bringing it to his mouth.

“I need to stretch it fully. Give me a minute,” Jinx explained. She didn’t actually, but teasing him was pretty natural for her, so she just did it. It probably helped him learning to deal with annoying situations, or something to that extent. Glen remained, many months since they’d first met, a strange young man. Jinx had never bumped onto a noble scion that could pass for a vagabond just as easy, or a burglar. Not that she had a problem with it, some of her best acquaintances were thieves. Could she trust him though, let him in on what she had found in the woods? Probably not, then again who else she could tell? Dante? Maybe Zola? Speaking of the curvy Issir…

“Damn,” Glen cursed, his eyes watering. “Think I loosened a fuckin’ tooth,” He spat the half-chewed piece of meat into his plate. “Who cooked this? Might as well start chomping the sole of yer boot!”

“Please don’t,” Jinx replied and moved her boot away, just in case. “Ye should soften it up first. It turned really hard overnight.”

“Twas better?” Glen asked, cutting a smaller piece with the knife.

“Ahm, well… a bit yeah, I suppose.”

“This is overdone, uneatable,” Glen pointed, with a grimace. “And I’ve had a rat once,” He paused seeing her raising an eyebrow. “A small one.”

Jinx shrugged it off. Small ones are tasty little buggers, if yer in a pinch, she thought.

“Wanna soak it in wine?” She offered him the almost empty bottle. “Crafton said, it was well done, so ye might have a point there.”

“No thanks. Crafton isn’t a cook. Luthos is having a laugh right now.”

“Hmm, ye sure? Because when Pale asked him to help with butchering the Stag, he offered to cook it instead,” Jinx remembered, standing up. “What did ye say he used to do back home?”

“He was a butcher,” Glen deadpanned and dropped the knife frustrated. “Is there anything else?”

“Soldiers have salted pork rations.”

“Oh, gods no. I might as well start fasting,” Glen moaned.

“The farmers sometimes bring eggs after noon,” Jinx offered. “Soren goes through them pretty fast.”

“You mean to tell me Soren had fresh eggs for breakfast?” He appeared super frustrated at that. It was kind of funny, she thought. “Where did he cook them?” Glen asked, looking around for leftovers.

“He didn’t,” Jinx replied and added before he’d time to process the information. “I’m not lying about the bodies by the way.”

“Huh? Oh, come on Whisper,” Glen protested, getting up himself. “Told you, I was there.”

“If you’re right, someone else did it,” She insisted. “It’s weird. Is it not?”

“Fine, it is. Want me to start looking around for someone collecting body parts? I have lots on my plate now, to deal wit this kind of ghoulish crap,” He stared at his plate frustrated for a brief moment and then kicked the table hard, toppling it and managed to send everything crashing down with a loud ruckus. The plate rolled away from them like a wheel and stopped on the opposite wall of the kitchen, clattering for a good while, before settling.

“I’m going to leave now,” Jinx said, realizing his mini-tirade was over and everything had stopped rolling.

“Okay,” Glen replied, a little numb.

“I can stay a bit, if ye want to vent some more,” She offered, to be a good friend to him and because it was kind of funny, seeing him breaking stuff.

“Just go. Leave now,” Glen dismissed her, flushed an unhealthy red and fuming, a hand pointing at the door; all an act probably, since Jinx knew he cared.

So she forgave him for being a dick.

 

 

Jinx spent the next hour searching the Castle for the bounty hunter and his spouse, wanting to get his version of events, or just get a second look at him, since the couple had literally vanished after that first night. Finding no one, but the ruffian Stiles hiding behind the middle barrack building, pretending to search for rats of all things, Jinx gave up and walked down the sloped road towards Hellfort’s Pass and the almost finished barricade. Dante was there talking with Zola, the Issir standing suspiciously close to their captain, her lips on his right ear almost.

The fuck? Jinx thought, greatly pissed at this blatant intimacy and headed straight for them. Dante caught her approaching out of the corner of his eye, mad as all hells and instinctively pushed Zola away from him, switching to his patent merchant’s grin as a precaution.

“Pretty, good… late morning!” Dante greeted her and she gave him the prize of her middle finger for the lame attempt at a dodge.

“We were—” Zola tried to say, before she cut her off, finishing it for her.

“What were ye talking about?”

“The barricade, it’s almost finished,” Zola explained unconvincingly.

“How would ye know? You’re not a builder honey,” She inquired furious at the blatant lie.

“Come on, Pretty!” Dante intervened to ensure the potential fight never started. “Everyone can tell this thing is almost done. Right?”

“Ye couldn’t apparently. And how exactly her sucking at yer earlobe, was gonna remedy that?” Jinx pointed putting her hands on her waist.

“Shut up, Whisper. I don’t owe ye an explanation. You should grow the fuck up,” The Issir woman hissed, all furious now that their deception was revealed for the world to see.

“Wow, ye had to go there,” Jinx retorted. “Not very mature of ye.”

Zola threw her arms up in frustration.

“Yeah, I’m going to grab something to eat, this is stupid.” She announced, because that was what grownups did, when they run out of things to say.

“Try the Stag steak!” Jinx yelled at her back, as she walked away sassily. “It’s all dried up like yer cunt!”

Dante sighed a deep sigh, half of it was relief for dodging the worst, the other pure desperation. Just to be sure though, he steered the conversation away.

“So, how’s that leg, partner?”

“Better,” Jinx replied not in the mood. “Yer attempt at deflecting, is thinner than a whore’s tunic, dear captain.”

“Something is bothering you. I know you since you were a kid Pretty,” He said, always perceptive when cornered and equally manipulative. Jinx had to begrudgingly admit that it was a quality he possessed in abundance.

She stared at the soldiers finishing up the over two meters tall barricade for a long moment; to collect her thoughts before answering.

“Someone cut up the bandits that attacked Glen the other day,” Dante gave her a confused glance. “I’m talking three arms and a leg here, gone.”

“Another gang?” Dante chanced, with a frown. “The woods are full probably.”

“My instincts say, this was no gang.”

“You’re worried,” Dante said, treading carefully. “This isn’t where you wanted to be.”

Jinx puffed her cheeks out. “Sweetie, I’m serious.”

“Okay, what you want me to do about it?” He relented.

“Find that bounty hunter, or his wife. Tell Emerson.”

“You think they’re involved?”

“I don’t know them. They just popped out of nowhere, in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere,” She returned his stare. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”

 

 

The water spilled out of the barrel, when she lowered herself in it, splashing down the kitchen’s floor. It will turn it into mud and smear her feet later, but Jinx didn’t care about later, the cold water’s embrace soothing on her skin and the familiar silence under it healing.

The Gish could remain submerged for a good while, their lungs powerful and well-adjusted to help her species survive the different seasons of their isles. Abrakas loved them the most, their elders said and raised the sea level every year, swallowing their lands and drowning the careless ones, all in an attempt to keep them in his bottomless embrace forever. Jinx having travelled the world, a journey that had started by chance and almost ended in disaster; had seen what she had seen and knew enough now, to call bullshit on that whole story. Abrakas didn’t give a shit, about anything, or anyone.

There were no coincidences.

A lie had killed the twins, when they went after Glen, greed had joined them to the young noble everyone and their darn mother wanted dead and bad luck in the toss of a coin, had made sure they’d followed him here, with the chance of war barreling down on them.

A gang of Cofol paid thugs, knew he always followed Lith, the bounty hunter had said. Ambushed him on the return trip. How would he know that? Jinx wondered, seeing bubbles reaching the water’s surface, distorting the curious face of the boy watching her greedily from above.

Liko jumped away scared out of his wits, when the Gish kicked her legs and burst out suddenly, his arms flailing mad as he went down on his arse, water splashing over him and making a mess on the ground. Liko’s eyes gawked impossibly wide, when Whisper Jinx stepped out of the barrel nimbly, feeling quite comfortable, but for her exposed nipples that started hurting something fierce, when the air gushing in from the open door touched them.

“I didn’t see anything!” The boy scrambled to save himself, when she turned to look at him, none pleased.

“Are ye blind?” Jinx countered, with a smirk.

“No. Yes, I am!” Liko nodded enthusiastically with his head.

His groveling nigh comical.

“Bring me my pants,” Whisper ordered, reaching for the vest herself, now well drenched in dirty water. “And close that darn door!”

 

 

“Apologies, Lady Jinx,” Liko kowtowed, a minute later, or ten.

“Cut that Lady crap,” Jinx admonished him, with a smile at the end to soften it up. “Just Whisper will suffice.”

“What will?” Liko whispered, all conspiratorial.

Abrakas, go fuck yerself wit a rotted paddle.

“Whisper Jinx. It’s my name,” She said with a sigh. “What? Liko is a right stupid one, but ye don’t see me makin’ a fuss about it!”

“I thought ye drowned,” Liko explained, a moment later, while she licked what was left inside that bottle, Glen had almost broken earlier. “Was tryin’ to decide on what to do, when ye popped out of the barrel.”

“Please, that’s not what ye were doin’,” Jinx scoffed. “But don’t worry about it.”

Liko grinned, pleased he gotten off easy.

“Can I come watch again, when—”

Her stare, turned into a glare.

“Never.”

“Okay.”

“How did ye sneak up on me, by the way?” Jinx asked, to break the awkward silence that followed.

“I’m sneaky?” Liko replied with a toothy grin and a shrug. “Like Glen.”

“Right. You’re Crafton’s kid?”

“Nephew,” Liko replied quickly. A lie if there ever was one, Jinx thought intrigued.

“Hmm, say… have ye caught a whiff of that bounty hunter at all?” She asked, working her mind around the boy’s words, but not seeing a connection. Other than Crafton trying to scam Glen out of some of his gold. That was a lot of gold as well, what he’d carried wit him.

It made sense, but not a lot. Glen was no fool.

There were no coincidences.

None.

 

 

“He went towards the bridge, then across it, saw the woman more than him, which was weird,” Liko replied, pleased to be helpful. The talented little rascal, Jinx thought, his next words snapping the Gish out of her reverie violently. “Just after Glen’s ranger left early this morning, like she always does.”

 

 

Zestari gave her weird vibes, since the start.

The armed to the teeth man, had that same aura on him.

It was perhaps a Gish thing, being able to see those things.

Ye can never trust a Zilan.