Regulation 3 – Always Share Sights or Points of Interest with your Team

For a fraction of a second I feel three sets of eyes land on me with startled acknowledgement. And then all three of them are moving flawlessly into one of the stealth scout positions that the LAGOON drilled into us. They pack close while keeping their bodies adjusted enough to get multiple sightlines on whatever it is that was spotted; confirming the sighting is the goal more than anything else.

There’s a flash of pride in my chest at that, at the fact that they’re so skilled and that they trust me enough to act on a single word out of my mouth. That pride gets swallowed whole by an avalanche of emotions that are impossible for me to name.

My mouth is dry. I blink and lose track of that head of hair and my legs move without thought, sending me staggering forward into the press of the crowd. The stealth scout line is broken in my wake. I have to find him again. Have to prove to myself that it wasn’t wishful thinking. I saw him, I know I did. I have to prove it. I have to check on him, have to ask him-

“There!” Sara shouts. I flinch at the noise so close to my ear. Did they move with me? I didn’t… I failed to keep track of my squad as I staggered forward. How could I have- “Yilmaz, over here!” Sara’s lifting herself up on the tips of her toes, waving her arms wildly. That’s dangerous. My brain cannot register why, only that it is.

But I spot him again and my squad once more fades into nothing. He turns – just enough. Just enough. I can see the edge of the scar across his face. The one I put there. I can see the flash of his heterochromia before his mostly obscured expression does something complicated and he pulls up a hood before ducking into the crowd.

And then he’s gone. Again. I keep looking. I lose track of time looking, in that way that’s aware of passing time but incapable of feeling anything about it. I saw him, he’s alive. I saw him-

“He’s gone…” Sara whines and I blink.

Bits of existence filter back into my awareness. My squad clustered at my back, somewhere between a scout position and protection positions. The crowd parting around us with no few amount of grumbles and muttering of the word tourists like it’s a curse. Above – the sky starting to show the colors of sunset, dotted by the occasional cloud.

“I couldn’t see him at all.” Chaisee mutters. “But he’s alive. If both of you saw him then he’s alive.” the hope in her voice grows with each word.

“Missed him.” Rehema shakes their head.

So just Sara and I saw him? Two of four is not great odds, but “I saw him.” I say it aloud even as I think it. “I’m sure of it.” my voice falters on the last two words.

…There’s a fifty percent chance it was just wishful thinking. Only two of us saw him. And besides if it was him then why is he here of all places? Why didn’t he turn around and come to us? It’s possible that he’s our true client, that he arranged the hit on the High Mage and requested me with the hope that I would take care of his other friends and bring them with. It’s possible that he glanced back to confirm.

But that doesn’t really fit either. Our true client either uses or knows someone who uses noomorphy and Yilmaz would never. He hates mind altering magic.

Maybe it’s someone targeting us, using his appearance. But that’s- not terribly likely either.

He looked back. I saw that scar and I know it too well to be fooled. I saw his eyes. Magenta and gold.

Right?

I go to reflexively check the recording in my eye but… right I stopped recording on the way here. It’s easier to scan through what I’m looking for if there’s not hours of travel involved. I meant to start recording again the moment we arrived and got sidetracked. There’s no recording to double check.

From now on it’s nonstop recording then, I’ll deal with the hours of travel in the files when I have spare time. I start recording again.

I’m aware that we need to get moving. My feet have been glued in place since he vanished again and this is unbecoming of me as a squad leader. I swallow, try to redirect my thoughts. Fail.

Someone grabs me by the arm and tugs hard enough to unstick my feet. I blink. Register that it’s Chaisee. She can lead me along while my head spins and my thoughts refuse to take form. I trust her enough to let her do that. I grasp wildly for what we’re supposed to be doing, hoping to use the mission objective as a lifeline to come back to my body.

Sub-mission objective – we’re scoping out the city for more information before we even think of committing to the assigned mission. We’re supposed to be on the lookout for more folks who have been affected by noomorphy. We need to be on guard. This mission might be a trap.

This mission might be a call for help. I need to search for signs of Yilmaz. Need to search for Yilmaz.

Those thoughts chase each other around until I’m too disoriented to pull them apart.

Chaisee has stopped tugging me. We’ve stopped moving. How long ago was that? Why?

“Kali.” Chaisee’s voice is soft and I blink, shake my head, grasp for the sound of her voice as the lifeline I needed. “Do you have any updates on your part of the sub-mission?”

Wait. What? I don’t- I don’t parse what noise comes out of my mouth but I hold up a hand as it does. “Give me a moment.” I say, tail flicking with the guilt that swallows all other thoughts. The sub-mission was my idea and I forgot about it completely.

“It’s fine!” Sara offers me a wide smile. “We just thought asking for a sitrep would get you back to us.” she’s fidgeting with her hands despite the smile. I notice because my brain is trying to notice everything to make up for the period of time where I noticed nothing.

“Worked.” Rehema makes that purr gesture the moment I look at them, smirking at me. They’re immediately at the top of the suspect list for who came up with that plan.

Still. It wasn’t a bad plan. “It did.” I say, nodding shortly. “I… my apologies.” I can’t keep looking at them all. There are no words with which I can explain why I careened to a stop like that. No words to explain how much I want to drop everything and go chasing after even the slightest hint of Yilmaz’s presence. It’s utterly counter to every single rumor about me and my mission focused mind. And it’s only that way because of Yilmaz. But I have no ability to put any of that into words.

I want to do it regardless. I want to apologize for not being a good leader. I never thought I should be one long term anyway.

“I-” I open my mouth, try again.

“Absolutely not.” Chaisee cuts me off. “No apologizing. We know Maz woulda done the same if your spots were reversed. We get it. You two are…” she trails off and shakes her head again. This time feels oddly fond. Is it the slight smile on her lips that does it? “Let’s secure safety first though.” she ducks her head, rubs at the back of her neck.

Is she feeling guilty? My brows furrow. “Do not feel guilty for remembering the correct procedures.” I instruct. “I lost my head. You three managed to keep yours. This is a thing to be proud of.” maybe I put a little too much emphasis on the word proud. It gets me a look out of all three of them that I don’t really understand. So instead of trying to process that just yet, I continue. “For now, we’ll proceed as if he’s any other missing person. Any sightings are to be reported to the rest of the group when we see them.” it feels like I’m saying and doing too little. I’m not addressing either situation as well as I would like to. But all three of them nod, if nothing else.

“Report sightings. No chasing.” Rehema adds. They’re not looking at any of us; they’re gazing around at the space we’ve stopped in. The words still feel like they’re targeting me all the same.

What else is there to call what I did but starting to chase the sighting? Chase him.

I nod, fighting to keep from gritting my teeth. “A good reminder.” my tail flicks as I speak, guilt slicking down the fur. I get a warning look out of Chaisee. “I’m going to actually do what I was supposed to be doing now.” I say.

Which is half driven by guilt but also half an excuse to sidestep whatever Chaisee might be about to say in response to the way my tail moved. A tactical retreat. I don’t do it immediately, instead take note of the way that Chaisee relaxes and starts looking stuff up on her phone and the way Sara lets out this long, low breath.

First things first, I need to figure out where we are now. I could simply ask – most likely Rehema – but that risks revealing exactly how out of it while my head was spinning and I would like to cling to some of my pride after that display. Looking into where we are now is just a small extra step so it’s no big deal.

We aren’t far from the hotel that Mx. Jones directed us to. This is a shopping strip; the closest one to that hotel even. One of them certainly put a lot of thought into where they were leading me. I feel that surge of pride again. I make a mental note to inform them of this pride later.

From there, I go for – places that tourists are advised away from. General safety inquiry, not all that uncommon to follow a generalized search for ‘places to eat near me’ which is how I got our current location.

There are at least two dozen places that tourists are advised away from. Some are specific buildings while others are entire streets or blocks. While looking into those places, I note that more than half of them also carry warnings for the locals. But there’s also no explanation as to why any of these places are dangerous. Not to tourists or to locals. Digging deeper isn’t a passive curious tourist thing, so I make a note and shift tracks.

There are far fewer places that are considered must-sees for tourists. The race tracks are mentio0ned several times, there’s a museum to the history of racing that claims to have artifacts ranging all the way back before The Greatest War. (I doubt that. If anything, they may have replicas. The real deals are old enough to be incredibly fragile, and that’s just the things that scholars can gain information from. The disks from that time have pulled apart or bro0ken down, and the data that was on those is lost forever for the most part.) But… that’s it. Race tracks and a museum. Not even any restaurants.

How odd.

I even try a quick search for recommended restaurants and come up empty.

Well, that means I can do the frustrated dumb tourist thing and start prodding into the places that tourists are being warned away from. Starting with restaurants. If I can get a bead on where each of those are then I can start putting together a mental map in my head. See if there’s anything that ties the locations together or not.

There are four restaurants that are marked as places that tourists should avoid.

…I suppose that I’m grateful for the fact that there was an easy way to sidestep back into digging into forbidden locations. As long as my queries are done in a way that looks like a normal tourist, perhaps frustrated and annoyed at this point, then they should be indistinguishable enough to give us that shield of cover.

While I’m at it, I reference the recording I started making earlier. We passed by two of those places that tourists should stay away from and a view from the ground is always useful when it comes to a mess like this.

I don’t like what I find. I don’t like it so much that I suck in air between my teeth and taste frost.

“Found something?” Chaisee asks, looking at me out of the corner of her eye with the question. It’s a prompt more than an actual question.

I send it privately with a grunt out loud.

The more I don’t like something, the more likely it is that we should only speak of it across the feed we’ve routed through the Lodestar. And I really don’t like this.

There’s a pattern being made in the lines of places that tourists should stay away from. The streets and parks and stores all connect to form a pair of sigils. Only a small amount – half a street at max – of the second sigil is missing.

While the three of them switch to get a look at what I’ve noticed, I take the chance as my turn to people watch. They’ve all had time to do it, and looking around at people is often a good way to catch the pulse of a place.

Knukyrn is a place largely known for horses and it shows even here in the plaza of a shopping center. We’re situated by some benches; I remember only now that I should sit down. In front of us there’s a massive fountain that dominates the terrain, featuring four rearing horses as the part of the fountain that spits out the water. A small basin is balanced atop their four heads and a smaller fountain with lights in it shoots water up as well. A splash of warm colors amongst stark grey.

Given the hour, I’d expect a shopping center of this size to be extremely busy. This would be one of the better times to collect supplies and not risk missing any of the races, but there’s less than two dozen folks milling around. Every one of them has the aura of someone being hunted. Heads down, moving quickly, shoulders hunched, and hands shoved in pockets. It’s a similar body language to what I adopt at times, one that discourages others from interacting with me because they think I’m on edge.

I’d be willing to chalk up a few people to coincidence or nerves. Not every single person. I watch without looking at folks for a while, directing my gaze to the fountain and a half dozen storefronts. The workers within the stores I can see from here are the same as well.

That’s a pattern.

I keep my expression neutral and even. Is it the fact that we’re a group of outsiders or tourists? None of us are wearing obvious LAGOON gear, so it can’t be the usual grounder versus LAGOON resident thing that crops up at times. Skin tones are varied among the locals so I doubt it’s racism either, though I could be mistaken. I have been before.

So that leaves… well, it leaves recent changes to the area. Recent changes like perhaps a High Mage who punishes folks for acting in ways counter to their vision.

The others are still chewing on what I’ve sent them and a new vector of getting information has occurred to me. I look into it with a search phrased like a question: ‘Is Knukryn friendly to visitors?’

I’m not interested in the conflicting think pieces. I’m after the comments sections – less moderated, more likely to have scraps of information I can use if I can sift truth from exaggeration and falsehood. This one won’t be a fast source of answers so much as something I can chew on while-

“We should move.” Chaisee says. Her voice is softer than I’ve heard it before. “We’re starting to get looks.” a beat of silence and she adds, even quieter, “And I really don’t like standing inside a mystery sigil for too long.”

Folks are staring. Some with furrowed brows and tight lips, others with pinched expressions and sad eyes.

I stand up, stretch as exaggeratedly as I can imagine doing so. “You’re right!” I say loudly, pitching my voice higher and friendlier. “I really did lose track of time admiring that lovely fountain.” I gesture at it, tilt my head. “Good idea. I will take a picture.” Fishing out my phone gives Sara time to yawn widely and cover her mouth almost bashfully. I’m busy taking a picture as she speaks.

“I found a place online that we can get snacks from. It’s right over there.” Sara points. “We should go grab some. For tomorrow too, I don’t want to miss the race so we’re just gonna bring snacks.”

Rehema simply shrugs and stands up, following the direction Sara pointed and leaving the rest of us to follow.

Much of the staring drops off after that.

A message flickers across my vision as I follow Rehema and clock Sara moving to do the same.

pettyinpink: so. leave condition not met so far but i am NOT liking this place. something is bigtime wrong here but i dunno that we have the tools to handle it

SilentYowl: Agreed. The sigils have me concerned that we’re walking into something a lot bigger than it seems. Some kind of ritual perhaps?

After responding to Chaisee, I fire off another message. One I should have sent a while ago.

SilentYowl: We have arrived at mission point. We were attacked en route and there is suspected noomorphy going on here in at least one individual. Current status is scoping out the mission point to determine if the mission is workable or not.

Mao will get the message whenever she gets it. It’s longer than in text than I usually send her so I’m not expecting a response for a while. She’ll need time enough to work through what I’ve sent and then compose her own response as slow as she usually types. That’s fine; I sent it out of diligence more than anything else.

With those quick messages handled, I’m the last of our group to stand up and start walking – following the lead Rehema set. It’s gratifying to know that we’re no longer being openly stared at – but I certainly don’t trust that we’re not being monitored anymore. I certainly would continue keeping an eye on any tourists when something like those sigils is in progress. I don’t dare look them up.

As we walk the stones that make up the city go from stark grey to a warmer brown, straight lines to bricks cut into horse related shapes like a point of pride. By the time I catch on, there are three shades of brown and at least six different shapes, some of which are a bit contrived in order to make the brick pattern work.

And maybe I’m wrong. Maybe this will just be an ordinary mission – no more noomorphy and the things I’ve spotted are things that have nothing to do with the mission. It’s possible that the sigils are meant to be protective or just rigging the races. It’s possible that my inherent suspicion and paranoia is making me see enemies in shadows where there’s none. Yilmaz used to always call me out and make me realize it when I was doing that.

Is it so bad to hope that I’m wrong? That all of this will add up to nothing worrisome at all…?