The Last Blood Mage

Search for a Blood Mage

As the morning sun rose, casting a golden glow over the port, Xander woke. The voices from his dreams faded. He patted his inner pocket, ensuring his coin pouch was safe.

He stretched and descended the creaky stairs. Downstairs, the tavern was restored after yesterday's brawl. Patrons sprawled on the floor, groaning from hangovers and dreams.

“Hey Xander, hungry? Warm porridge and fresh bread here,” Agatha's gruff voice called as he settled onto a barstool.

“How much is it this time? Did you raise the prices again?” Xander asked, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation.

“You're a smart one, aren't you? Two gold coins for the porridge and an extra piece of bread will cost you more,” Agatha replied.

“Seems like you're making a fortune here. You could open up a branch in the noble district,” Xander teased as he took out the required coins and placed them on the table.

Agatha snorted, her brown dress swaying slightly as she pocketed the gold coins in a leather pouch hanging at her side. 

"Nah, too much trouble in the fancy part of town. Can't stand those high-and-mighty nobles."

"Porridge and bread," Agatha called out to the cook behind her, her tone no-nonsense.

"These folks might look rough, but they're small-time compared to the nobles and the wealthy," Agatha motioned to the patrons on the floor.

"The rich ones, they're the real criminals, just on a grander scale. They get away with it, building their power and wealth, while folks like these end up behind bars or dead," Agatha's voice held a hint of bitterness as she voiced her disdain for the upper class.

"Speaking of nobles, I've been hearing about the duke's gala. What's that all about?" Xander inquired, hoping to gather information.

"Just another one of the duke's fancy parties, I guess. Whatever it is, it's drawing folks from Mooncrest and beyond. Why he throws these bashes, who knows? I sure don't care," Agatha replied as she wiped down cups.

"How about a nice cold ale?" Agatha tempted, sliding the frothy drink toward Xander.

"Thanks, but I'll pass on the drink," Xander declined courteously. Spending more coins wasn't an issue, but he had his reasons for avoiding alcohol. Losing control while intoxicated could lead to unintended consequences with his powers.

Agatha chuckled. "Well, well, a teetotaler in these parts. That's a rare sight. Did your old man wallop you when you tried your first sip?"

"No parents, no drinks," Xander's tone was flat, concealing the bitterness he felt towards the parents who abandoned him to the streets.

"An orphan, huh? That explains a lot," Agatha nodded.

"What does?" Xander questioned.

"Your clothes, your accent, and sticking around here. I've seen my fair share of orphaned kids becoming adventurers to scrape by. A bit of advice, though, save up and put down some roots. The life of wandering might seem thrilling now, but regret can hit hard as you get older," Agatha's concern was evident in her eyes and words. Her demeanor shifted as the cook handed a bowl of porridge and a piece of bread through a window.

"Here you go," Agatha placed the bowl of porridge, which resembled yellow water with a few pieces of carrots and beans floating. The freshly baked bread looked so hard it could be used as a weapon.

"Two gold coins. What did I expect?" Xander mumbled while he ate. He needed a full belly. Agatha frowned at his speed, noticing how quickly he devoured the food as if he hadn't eaten in weeks.

"Slow down, champ," Agatha said as he finished his meal within a minute.

"I'm hungry," Xander replied, his tone slightly embarrassed. Truth was, his appetite grew intense after gaining his powers. As a blood mage, he required significant sustenance. Despite having the option to consume blood, he opted for regular food.

"No shit," Agatha snickered.

"You want another one?" she asked, but Xander shook his head.

"Nah. I think I'll head out," Xander said, preparing to leave the tavern.

"What about your room? Do you plan to stay another night?" Agatha inquired as Xander handed her the key to the room.

"I'm not sure," replied Xander.

"Don't come running to me when I give your room to another customer," Agatha warned playfully as Xander walked toward the door.

"Like you said, I can always sleep on the streets," Xander retorted, looking back at Agatha over his shoulder before exiting the tavern.

Xander left the tavern and headed to the bridge where Anthony's shop was set up. Though Anthony had mentioned afternoon for the information, Xander chose to wait under the bridge rather than wander. Staying at the tavern meant extra charges without buying anything, so he opted for the bridge.

Arriving, Anthony shot him an annoyed look. "I said afternoon. Does this look like afternoon?" he growled.

"Relax. I've got nothing else to do. I'll wait here," Xander replied, leaning against the wall.

"Just don't scare my clients away," Anthony warned.

Xander settled against the wall, finding shelter from the sun under the bridge's shade. He watched ships sail into the port, daydreaming of captaining his own vessel and exploring distant lands.

"How does it feel to have a ship of my own, sailing wherever I want?" Xander mused, longing for the freedom of being a captain and exploring the open sea.

Lost in thought, time slipped away until Anthony's call brought him back.

"Xander, your information is here," Anthony's voice snapped him back to reality.

Approaching, Anthony handed him a small piece of paper. Xander's brow furrowed as he examined it.

"Duke Krovian's gala. Red-haired mage," Xander read aloud.

"So you can read? That's a surprise," Anthony smirked, sensing Xander's frustration.

"I asked about learning about dark mages," Xander's fist clenched. "And this is all I get?"

"You asked for someone to learn from, and I provided. Anyone who knows about dark mages is either dead or hiding from the mage hunters. Consider yourself fortunate to find a red-haired mage at the gala who could enlighten you," Anthony explained.

Xander's emotions churned, a mixture of anger and shock. He had hoped for a clearer path out of Emberlyn, but fate seemed to disagree.

"Tell me at least how to identify him at the gala. There will likely be multiple red-haired mages," Xander demanded.

"If my source had more information, I would have provided it. With just 'red-haired,' there can be only one such mage," Anthony explained.

"How can I even get into the Duke's gala?" Xander's frustration and helplessness were evident.

"I have a solution, but it comes at the cost of seven hundred coins," Anthony offered, well aware of Xander's predicament.

"Seven hundred? You're charging me that much because you know I have it," Xander growled.

"If you're not interested, you're free to walk away," Anthony replied, confident in Xander's desperation.

"You're a real piece of work," Xander muttered, but he tossed the pouch of coins to Anthony. Without hesitation, Anthony took the coins and jotted something down on another piece of paper.

The words on the paper caught Xander's attention. "Master Robert at the Emerald Lion," he read aloud.

"Wait, you can read?" Anthony's surprise was palpable.

"I had a good teacher," Xander replied, his focus on the message.

"Got it," Anthony nodded.

"Find Master Robert at the Emerald Lion. He's known to indulge in drinking and parties. Take his invitation, and you'll be set for the gala," Anthony explained.

"So, I paid a hefty sum to learn that my only option is infiltrating the Duke's gala, the most secure event that only allows nobles?" Xander's frustration was apparent.

"Why should I trust that you won't betray me?" Xander's voice held suspicion.

"We don't mess with our clients, Xander. Now go on, I've got other business to attend," Anthony dismissed him, shutting the window firmly.

"Damn it," Xander muttered, frustration evident in his demeanor. He stood, pondering the dangerous plan that lay ahead. Before he could decide, a strange sensation gripped him, and the world began to spin. The scent of blood filled his nostrils, and an overwhelming craving surged within him. The people around him suddenly looked like tantalizing prey.