Quinn’s eyes flew out neatly and rather easily with the expert guidance of Pultris’s will.
“ ,” Quinn screamed silently, his voice travelling nowhere due to Pultris’s intervention.
However, the squelching of flesh and blood could still be heard, creating a rather horrendous and creepy atmosphere that contrasted sharply in the fresh daylight of Michinteo.
“Thank you very much.” Pultris thanked politely, extending his mouth towards the red, dripping eyeball and proceeding to swallow it.
Aurelius watched on, bile rising in his throat once again. At the same time, Aurelius silently determined that he wasn't feeling as faint as before. A testament to the kind of insane desensitisation to gore that Aurelius was suffering through presently.
With a small pop, the eye of the pirate disappeared into the void of Pultris’s mouth, and then it emerged slowly and disgustingly, tearing through flesh and veins out of the root of Aurelius’s middle finger.
“Better.” Pultris declared pleasantly.
“You see, looking through your eyes takes a bit of effort on my part. I still need to bend several layers of seals even with the contract that we have.” Pultris explained, as the eye formerly belonging to the pirate blinked to clean the tears of blood off of its cornea.
“Hmmm, you have pretty good vision for a pirate… Quinn?” Pultris declared satisfactorily, nodding Aurelius's hand awkwardly.
The pirate, Quinn was still doubled over in pain, was in no position to answer.
“Ah, right.” Pultris said, apparently enlightened, and clicked his tongue.
With this simple sound, the thin threads of gold wrapped itself up around the blood dripping from the man's eye, and condensed them into droplets, and were lifted and merged into the cavity that once held the proud pirate's eye.
This was an example of contract over the body. A flesh magic that could revert special to the body as a ‘punishment’ through the ‘violations’ of the contract. A fitting use of wind magic for a master greaseball like Pultris…
“T-Thank you, oh great o-one.” Quinn thanked weakly, a smile forming an insane curve across his poor, haggard face…
The man had already decided that he would obey and wag his tail to this terrifying being that held him in its toothy grasp. His survival. No. His peaceful death may at least be granted with subservience….
Pultris manipulated Aurelius's other hand into opening the door to the Funky Fish, apparently unwilling to use his own ‘mouth’ to voluntarily push open its doors.
The tavern was rather quiet, given that sailors usually frequented it at night, and those who used its inns left early to tend to their own business.
Aurelius saw the corner of Quinn's eye flicker in fear as they entered the tavern.
At its bar stood the same barkeep from the day before, the man tending mildly to wiping and washing his numerous glass cups. And seated at the corner, was a familiar face.
It was the information broker, Old Coot.
The moment the wrinkled man glanced at them, the man immediately did a double take, recognising the gaggle of troublemakers that trailed behind the unkempt, naive youth that he had met the previous night.
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“Why are you back so early? I don't have the information prepared yet.” Old Coot said, frowning questioningly at Aurelius.
“Well, we're here for more pressing matters.” Pultris declared greasily, as he manipulated one of the pirates to throw one of their remaining sealing charms.
“Sigilia.” Pultris announced unpleasantly, immediately locking down the entire tavern, a translucent gray shadow forming at its numerous exits.
“Hm?!” Old Coot barely had time to react to the strangeness.
With a click of his tongue, the seal twisted and pulled Old Coot into a shadowy prison, wrapping suffocatingly around his old, bearded body.
His eyes bulged immediately as the air was knocked out of his lungs by the sheer force of the seal closing in on his body, and a scream was stifled further by Pultris’s magic.
That was when the man finally noticed the strange face on Aurelius’s hand.
His face fell immediately. As an experienced information broker, he was no stranger to stories of possession, and other horrifying folk legends. This was a consequence of being close to adventurers and sailors.
The relics of the past eras were not always kind to its finders. Many a times, the gold plated shield would carry a remnant curse of its last opponent, or a sealed artefact and its spirit would fuse to create a cursed object that would bring misfortune to all those around itself.
“W-wait! Koff-What did I do! I'll give ya anything ya want!” Old Coot immediately relented, his eyes changing from its usual humour to fear and subservience.
While old, he wasn't particularly in a hurry to return to the mana of the world. In fact, he felt strongly that he had several rather good years left in him yet!
“Hmmm, I need information on all pirates in the area. As recent as possible.” Pultris said without even so much as a pause.
“...Wh- I'll be dyin’ in my cot!” Old Cott protested, his face immediately balking at the suggestion.
“Tomato tomato.” Pultris said with humour, leading Aurelius to frown in question.
Was Pultris getting more… expressive?
Old Coot and his face immediately lost colour to nearly pure white, and his old addled brain immediately started to function overtime as he pondered the calculus of his complex situation.
It took him 20 seconds to complete his calculation.
“Well, most hon’able sir, I will tell you that the Crimson Dragon crew has docked in the nearby temp'ry harbor with their flagship, Marooned Thief.” Old Coot said, smiling forcedly as he delayed the information with gritted teeth.
Pultris immediately clicked his tongue. And the cage constricted further and forcefully against the old man.
“Do you take me for a fool?” Pultris scoffed.
“Your attempt is useless. Do you think I can't tell a tabooed name from a true name?” Pultris said, opening 2 gashed around Aurelius's arm to recite several complex geometric incantations.
Illusory gold lines immediately curled around the air, trapping two ‘words’ out of the air.
Taboo names were names tied to magic, one that bound the abstract concept of a word to a contract, and allowed for information to be known when a word was said.
Old Coot's eyes bulged further like a fish as he gasped for air and in horror of the monstrous creature's abilities.
Taboo names were in the realm of sages! They onto intensive ritualistic magic by magisters to even have a shot at working, and this single mouth had completely nullified it!
“What else?” Pultris asked, boredom sipping menacingly into his tone.
Old Coot immediately spilled his guts out, naming 3 medium sized vessels in the nearby waters, including Quinn's crew.
“I also believe that the Great Pirate City has been spotted in the waters further down south. The information came from a visitor 10 days ago, so I believe that it has likely not moved too far from there.” He rambled, going into miniscule detail of every piece of his information.
After a while, he was done.
“A-Anything else? I-I believe a great spirit like you have the cap'city to… keep me alive for a little longer, right, sir?” Old Coot said, hope lining his voice and expression.
“Ah, you want a contract?” Pultris asked, his eye glinting mysteriously…
“A part of your body is required for our contract. A finger may do.” Pultris said nonchalantly.
Old Coot nodded frantically, relief outweighing his concern for the moment. He would gladly lose a finger for his life!
“OK.” Pultris declared, clicking his tongue.
Immediately the left arm of Old Coot fell off.
The shadow of the seal had materialised itself directly against his arm, and sliced it off!
“AHHHHHHHHH” Old Coot screamed, clutching at his wound to stem the blood.
However, blood did not flow from his wound, but rather, strange golden threads extended to the detached part of his arm…
“YOU SAID A FINGER!” Old Coot screamed in agony.
Pultris chuckled deeply, as if amused by the idea.
“Sure, but this is more fun. Consider it the price for offending me.”
