The Trickster's ascent: A Tales of schemes, shadows and divinity

The streets of Carcera never truly slept. Even in the deepest hours of the night, shadows moved, deals were struck, and secrets whispered among the alleyways. Loki and Selena walked in silence, the shard of the broken mirror safely tucked into Selena's pack. Loki's arm still throbbed where the echo had grazed him, its icy touch lingering longer than he cared to admit.

"You're quiet," Selena said, breaking the silence. Her tone wasn't curious—it was observational, sharp.

"Just savoring the moment," Loki replied, forcing his usual grin. "We survived a haunted chapel. That's worth a little reflection, don't you think?"

Selena glanced at him sideways, her eyes narrowing. "You look pale. Did one of them touch you?"

Loki hesitated, then shrugged. "It's nothing. Just a scratch."

"It's not nothing," Selena snapped. "Echoes don't leave scratches. They leave marks."

Her words hung heavy in the air, and Loki's grin faltered for a moment. "Well," he said lightly, "if I start babbling nonsense or clawing at my skin, feel free to stab me."

Selena didn't laugh. Instead, she quickened her pace, leading them toward the safety of the district's more populated streets. The city's alchemical lanterns cast an otherworldly glow, illuminating the worn cobblestones beneath their feet.

"Where to next?" Loki asked, breaking the tension.

"There's one more ingredient," Selena replied. "An artifact imbued with deception."

Loki's eyebrows rose. "Deception? That could mean anything."

"Not just anything," Selena corrected. "It has to be something that has been used in lies, betrayals, or illusions. Something steeped in trickery."

Loki chuckled. "Sounds like my kind of relic."

Selena stopped abruptly, turning to face him. "It's not a joke. Artifacts like that aren't just lying around. And the people who hold them… they won't part with them easily."

"I've never met a deal I couldn't make," Loki said with a wink. "Or break."

Selena shook her head but didn't argue. Instead, she pointed toward a narrow alleyway that led into one of Carcera's oldest districts. "There's someone who might have what we need. But he's dangerous."

"More dangerous than echoes?" Loki asked, his tone casual.

Selena's expression darkened. "He's not something you can fight or trick. He deals in debts."

Loki frowned. "Debts?"

"The kind you can't escape," Selena said quietly. "Once you owe him, you're his until he decides otherwise."

The weight of her words hung between them as they entered the alley. The air grew colder, and the distant hum of the city seemed to fade. At the end of the passage stood a small, unassuming door carved from dark wood. Symbols Loki didn't recognize were etched into its surface, faintly glowing with an unnatural light.

"This is the place?" Loki asked.

Selena nodded. "His name is Senvik. Speak carefully."

Before Loki could reply, she pushed the door open, revealing a dimly lit room. The walls were lined with shelves that sagged under the weight of strange objects—a withered hand encased in glass, a jar filled with shimmering black sand, a rusted dagger that seemed to pulse faintly. At the center of the room sat a figure cloaked in shadow, his features obscured by the flickering light of a single candle.

"Visitors," the figure said, his voice smooth and low. "How rare."

Loki stepped forward, his grin firmly in place. "Senvik, I presume?"

The figure didn't respond immediately. Instead, he leaned forward, the candlelight catching the edge of his jaw. His face was sharp, almost unnaturally so, and his eyes gleamed like polished obsidian.

"You're bold," Senvik said. "Few speak my name without trembling."

"Boldness is just fear dressed up in confidence," Loki replied. "And I've always had a good tailor."

Senvik chuckled, a sound that seemed to echo unnaturally in the small room. "What do you seek, Trickster?"

Loki didn't flinch at the title. "An artifact of deception. Something imbued with lies, betrayal, illusions… you know the type."

Senvik's smile widened. "Ah, such things are costly. What do you offer in return?"

Loki glanced at Selena, who remained silent, her hand resting on her dagger. He turned back to Senvik, his grin unwavering. "What do you want?"

The air in the room seemed to grow heavier, and Senvik's eyes gleamed. "I want a favor."

"Define favor," Loki said, his tone light but wary.

"A simple task," Senvik replied. "When I call for you, you will answer. No matter the time, place, or cost."

Loki hesitated. He could feel Selena's eyes on him, her unspoken warning clear. But he knew the value of what he sought, and he couldn't afford to leave empty-handed.

"Deal," Loki said, extending his hand.

Senvik didn't take it. Instead, he reached into the shadows and retrieved a small box. He slid it across the table, and Loki opened it to reveal a ring. Its surface was dark and unassuming, but when he touched it, he felt a surge of cold energy rush through him.

"The Ring of Vyriss," Senvik said. "It once belonged to a noble who betrayed his entire family for power. Every lie he told, every betrayal he committed, is bound to it."

Loki slipped the ring into his pocket. "Pleasure doing business."

Senvik's smile didn't fade. "Remember, Trickster. When I call, you will answer."

As they left the shop, Selena rounded on Loki. "Do you have any idea what you've just done?"

"Secured our last ingredient," Loki replied.

Selena shook her head. "You've bound yourself to him. People don't escape Senvik's debts."

Loki's grin returned, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Then it's a good thing I'm not like most people."

But as they walked back into the labyrinthine streets, Loki couldn't shake the feeling that he'd just made a deal with something far darker than he realized.