“The Hooded”'s Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

The Hooded set the compass and the grail mug on the twin pans of his outdoor scale. Sand drifted across the dishes. Floating script spelled out their worth. He watched the numbers settle and frowned. Even with these, he could not outbid the gods at the coming auction. His shillelagh hung at his waist, the green stone winking in the low sun. He opened his heavy ledger on the stump beside the scale. Three times he ran his finger down the columns. Three times the tally came up short. He still needed enough to claim the Lycan Cloak and rescue the Emerald Gryphon egg. Near the edge of the clearing sat his lure, a basin of warm amber liquid with a charred carrot rising from its center. The trap was meant for a trickster god. The Hooded studied it and chewed the inside of his cheek. "Is the tip true? Will he really come sniffing?" The doubt sat heavy. He could not wait on a maybe. He shouldered his pack and traveled to a swirled shell of a shop glowing in the dusk. Inside, he moved past charms, jars, and dusty blades. Hours passed. He gave each shelf the same cold measure he gave gods. Nothing matched his need. The shopkeep finally waved him toward a back room. On a small table sat a chest of gold and white ash. The Hooded lifted the lid. Inside rested a third-eye oculus monocle, the last one in existence. His breath caught. This was a piece worth a god's purse. He paid in old treasure and walked out with the chest under his arm. The ledger would balance now. But the shopkeep's eyes had lingered too long on his hood, and word of the sale would travel faster than he could.