Remus entered the tavern without fanfare, like a regular patron. Despite his cloak and hood, various residents gave a nod of greeting as he passed. Others averted their yellow eyes, faces of anger or fear.
At the bar, Luce the bartender was trading verbal blows with the drinkers at the stools. When she eyed their Infernal Knight, her grin faded. The conversation among them slowly muted to whispers, as if they were all having private conversations with one another before he arrived.
"Good evening, drink?" Luce asked politely as Remus approached the bar, one of the stools suddenly unoccupied.
"A whiskey, please," Remus replied, sitting down on the stool, pulling down his hood.
"Looking for more folk again?" Luce questioned, placing a small glass in front of the knight. Taking a bottle from the shelf behind her, she slowly poured the brown liquid.
"No. An appointment with the Queen."
Some of the whiskey missed the glass. Luce straightened the bottle back up, quickly corking it.
"I see. I take it your appointment is through our mirror?" She asked calmly, but unlike her voice, the hand holding the bottle still shook faintly.
Remus gave a small but reassuring smile. "Yes. Strictly my missions, nothing else."
The woman practically sagged in on herself in relief before replacing the bottle.
Lifting his whiskey to take a sip, Remus missed his mouth and sloshed some over himself. A large, meaty hand with impeccable timing had slapped him on the back.
"REMY!" Jack roared in delight.
’Remy?’ Luce mouthed in confusion, slowly backing away, quickly remembering she had other work to do.
The captain’s weathered face was even redder than usual, his drunken grin cackling through his messy beard. Blemishes of yellow creased the whites of his eyes. Jack moved his arm around Remus, gripping his far shoulder.
"Where you been?" Jack bellowed into his ear over the tavern noise.
"Jack, my ears. Please."
"Deal with it, ya wuss!" The captain guffawed, using his wide bulk to nudge Remus’s neighbour off their stool. Either because of Jack’s size or the noise Jack made, the previous owner didn’t complain much.
Jack leaned in closer, his voice becoming more moderate. "It’s been nearly seven days, Remy. Need me and my boat to take you back out to those docks?"
Remus took a proper drink now, the whiskey finally finding its destination. "No, Jack, I’ll need to be on the docks themselves for this one. I’ll just use the gate."
The big man’s face fell. "What? You don’t help? What if something happens, what if you need a rugged, handsome sailor like myself to have your back?" The grown man was borderline whining like a child.
"If I need to knock them out, I’ll call for you to breathe on them."
Jack blinked at him, then flung his head back in laughter. Clapping his shoulder, he stood.
"Aye! Make sure to call on me!" The captain bellowed, taking his leave to go terrorize some other helpless patrons in a booth.
Remus just shook his head in mild fondness, knocking back the rest of his drink.
Underneath the tavern in its cellar was a dug-out area for fights, a poor man’s colosseum of wooden benches. In the middle was a pile of blood and sand acting as the sparring pit. Locals would settle their disputes through violence or death, or even just butting heads for fun while others placed odds.
But on the other side of this space was another set of stairs leading downward, a subtler path cut into the stone. Underneath the fighting pits was a small restricted room further buried down into the earth.
An incredibly rare artifact, a Distantia Mirror.
A large sheet of glass that didn’t properly portray a reflection of its surroundings, but a reflection of another mirror of its type, somewhere else. Pressing his iron sigil to the door, Remus entered the cramped room.
An old armchair sat in the middle of the space, facing a sheet of tinted glass against the back wall. Encased in a crude metal frame, markings and glyph systems were engraved in every inch of it.
The room was dark, the only light coming from a weak lantern that hung from the ceiling.
Ignoring the chair, Remus stood in front of the mirror, his reflection weak and murky. Holding up his hand in front of it, he channeled his mana into the glass. While he did, he also concentrated on a set of coordinates privy only to him.
Eventually, the glass started to change, a faint bloom of illumination. Slowly, shapes started to form in the glass, outlines of something, or someone. After a few moments, the vision stabilized. The faint reflection of Remus and his dark room had vanished, replaced with something else.
Within the glass was the outline of a large chair, or more specifically, a throne. The outline of a tall woman lounged in it, hidden within the darkness of her own room. The only light source seemed to be coming from her own mirror, faintly lighting her crossed legs.
"Finally, my knight."
Her voice sounded as if she were in the actual room with Remus, a beautiful yet haunting voice. One that many eager hearts would have paid to hear, and many more would have paid to escape.
"My Queen." Remus greeted, getting down to one knee before his Demonic Liege.
The silhouette of the queen sat amongst the murky darkness, her posture relaxed, as if bathing in it. Besides her outline, nothing was visible except her crossed legs and black heeled shoes. One foot slowly swaying with all the patience in the world.
Her head was tilted, a hand lazily holding it up, her arm resting against the darkened throne.
"What has been a week for you has been too long for me," Lilith said with faint amusement. "Please rise, sit, and give your weekly report~."
The knight rose up from his kneeling position, before quietly sitting in the armchair behind him. Sitting straight, his posture stiff, Remus began to recite the full events of his week.