Shadow Slave: Immortal Ice

Eirwen looked the man up and down. Merlin was a head shorter than him, with an average build hidden beneath simple yet stylish clothes. It was clear he had a good sense of fashion despite the modest outfit.

His brown trousers complemented the dark beige knit sweater perfectly, and the half-frame glasses resting on his nose added to the scholarly vibe he exuded.

"Yes, I'm Eirwen," he said, shaking Merlin's hand firmly.

With a bright smile, Merlin helped Gale and Eirwen toward the sofa, practically pulling them along. "Come, come," he said cheerfully. "Anora and Puppeteer aren't here right now, handling some business in the Slums. The twins are off on a little mission too, so it's just us for some private time."

Eirwen didn't resist being pulled along, but he stayed wary. As always when meeting someone new, he shut down any trace of expression or emotion. It was his way of observing; figuring out how he could act around them, so they had the best view of him. 

Andromeda followed them to the sofas, relieved that she wasn't being included in the group hug or whatever it was.

The three of them sat together on the sofa, while Merlin took a seat on the other side, settling into a fine cushion chair.

Merlin kept his light smile as he spoke, "Gale already told me yesterday why you're here. Memories, right?" His tone was casual and light, pleasant to the ear even. "I suppose money isn't an issue for you, is it? Because this stuff isn't cheap."

He sighed, leaning back slightly before crossing one leg over the other. "You might be Gale's friend, but unfortunately, nothing is free around here." His expression remained polite, but there was an undertone of seriousness. Something that reminded Eirwen of his father.

Eirwen nodded, his expression unreadable. 'A businessman, huh. Can't tell if he's genuinely nice or just faking it,' he thought to himself.

"Yes, I'm here for some Memories. I need armor, weapons, and charms," he said simply, keeping his tone neutral.

Merlin chuckled and tapped his finger on the armrest, "I'm sure you will find what you need, this is the biggest black market in the world for a reason, Eirwen"

"I know, I've been in the Undercity before once with Gale. I haven't seen the black market itself though" he said while pointing at his teacher.

"Oh, and how was what you saw?"

"It was alright," Eirwen lied, his face betraying no emotion. He wasn't sure how to act around Merlin yet, so he stayed calm and unreadable, wanting to make sure he was seen in the best possible light.

Merlin chuckled again, as if taking nothing serious, "Good that you don't hate it then haha," he uncrossed his legs and stood up, "Well then, I'm sure you can manage in here on your own right? Gale told me that you are a pretty strong Dreamer after all,"

'Why does it feel like he is talking to me as if I were a child?!' Eirwen cursed mentally. In reality he only nodded and also stood up. Andromeda immediately followed.

Merlin grabbed Gale's arm and pulled him to his feet. "Me and Gale need to discuss a few things, including your battle style. We'll meet again later," he said, gesturing toward a door. "Oh, and by the way, we've reopened our fighting pits. Feel free to check it out. That is on the house~."

"I will tell Puppeteer to bring you back when it's time," Gale said before waving Eirwen and Andromeda off.

He rolled his eyes and walked towards the door that Merlin pointed at earlier -Andromeda followed quietly by his side.

"Let's look around I guess," He scoffed, opening the door.

Behind the door was the Undercity. Or rather a part of it. The true Undercity was further down.

Currently Eirwen was in the Elite Zone. This was by far the cleanest and safest place, with its own clean air and water systems. The air here was even better than on the surface. Some of the buildings here resembled cheap villas, most of them either black, white or grey. This wasn't the first time Eirwen was here. He has been only in this zone before, but now he was intending on going deeper.

As much as he hated the dirt, he was still curious what the deeper levels could offer him.

This place was officially divided into three areas or "Zones".

The lowest were the Slums. It was a crowded, dangerous area for the poorest residents with no safety regulations whatsoever. Buildings there were built from scrap metal and scavenged wood, stacked here and there.

The core of the Undercity, however, was the Middle Zone. It had decent ventilation and proper housing, but its true significance lay in its black-market district. This area was a hub for anything and everything, shop owners, slave traders, and even Memory forgers. If you needed anything, it was likely that you could find it there.

Well, it isn't like Eirwen witnessed all that himself, everything he knew was from the stuff that Gale had told him.

Apparently, Gale grew up in the Middle zone, but it wasn't that Eirwen cared enough to recall the details.

The door opened to reveal a flight of stairs carved into the dirt, descending deeper into the Undercity. Eirwen immediately noticed several armed guards stationed around the villa. They wore heavy military vests and carried various rifles, some of which had railguns that extended from backpacks to their hands. The guards didn't pay Eirwen any attention and kept on with their patrol.

Eirwen quickly assessed the guards with a glance, noting their appearance. 'They look dangerous,' he thought, but didn't linger on them. Dangerous or not, he was confident in his ability to take them all out.

As they walked further down, Eirwen couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between the clean, safe Elite Zone and the chaotic, crowded area ahead of them.

At the bottom of the hill, the lights flickered, and people moved through the streets. Their figures were no larger than ants, going on about their lives.

'Something that might be useful to us is here,' a chorus of voices echoed in his mind. His calm expression nearly faltered, but he quickly regained control, not letting any sign of confusion slip.

'What do you mean?' he asked, but no response came, which irritated him slightly. 'Why do you have to be so cliché?!' he cursed.

---

After what felt like half an hour and a million stairs, they finally reached the bottom. During their descent, Eirwen hadn't seen anything worth noticing. Apart from Merlin's main villa, every other building and villa looked the same, with only the colours changing. And even those came only in three variations.

"I can already feel the stench," Andromeda sighed quietly, pulling out her napkin again. Eirwen chuckled. "I'm sure there's a Charm somewhere to help you."

"If I find it, I'll buy it immediately," she said, her voice muffled by the napkin pressed against her nose.

Eirwen nodded in agreement and stepped forward, entering the middle zone. To his sides were two soldiers each, protecting the entrance to the Elite Zone.

Under his feet was solid rock, but further ahead, the ground alternated between rock and metal walkways.

The street in front of him had no lanes for PTVs, yet people still navigated on compact motorcycles or Hoverboards. A few were even riding Echoes, their metallic bodies reflecting the dim light.

When Eirwen took in his first breath he noticed that the air was heavy with the scent of oil, metal, and faint mildew. Andromeda's face twisted in disgust; even the napkin couldn't help her now.

For Eirwen, the stench was annoying, but not unbearable. 'I need to get her something to block this smell before she explodes. Though, it would be funny to see,' he mused to himself with a slight smirk.

What also caught his attention was how much they stood out. The two of them nearly shone in their fancy, colorful clothes, especially compared to the dull, worn outfits of the people walking around.

Some people were dressed in simple bodysuits or armor, while others wore casual clothes like jeans, sweaters, and jackets or coats. Of course, there were a few fancy-looking individuals scattered around as well.

"Think they'll try to rob us?" Eirwen asked, amused, as he shoved his hands into his pockets and carefully stepped around any dirt.

Andromeda's face paled for a split second at the thought of them getting robbed or ganged on.

Many people here were Spell Infected, too many, so if a Saint pushed them, they might get into trouble.

Ignoring the thought, he kept walking with a sense of pride. He actually hoped that someone would try to mess with him. Eirwen's fists itched for a real fight, he hadn't had one since becoming a Dreamer, after all.

"I want to see the fighting pits," he said with an excited grin. Currently, no one knew him, and there wasn't anyone important around, just these people he didn't even want to consider humans equal to him. So, he let his emotions show.

'But first I need to try and find that useful thing that Leviathan talked about,' he thought, but he knew that with his luck it shouldn't be an issue whatsoever.

The further down the street they walked , the more attention they attracted. Everyone could tell they were new, fresh meat for them to devour. At least, that's what they thought.

What they didn't know was that this whole place was just one big playground for the blonde young man walking past them. At least, that's what Eirwen thought.

---

"A Memory that filters the air?" a young boy asked him, likely just a Dreamer. From what Eirwen had learned, the Memory and Echoe dealers were either Awakened or wealthy businessmen who resold Memories from others for a higher price, making insane profits in the process.

There was actually no reason for Memories to be sold in a black market, since there were no real regulations on owning them, like there were with guns or drugs.

Except, there was one. Taxes

Since there were regulations on taxes, anyone wanting to resell Memories had to pay tax on them. At least in the waking world. These rules didn't apply in places like Bastion or Ravenheart, though, since they had their own laws and rules.

Eirwen wasn't entirely sure, but after a short conversation with an old man that sold -rather disgusting- food, he gathered that the taxes were pretty heavy. As a result, people preferred to sell Memories in the black market, thus avoiding taxes and making more profit.

"Yes, I need something that can filter this disgusting air," Eirwen repeated himself impatiently to the boy.

The short boy leaned back in his chair behind the wooden stall. "Yeah, I got something. A ring with a singular enchantment. I think you understand what it does," he mumbled, not even bothering to look at Eirwen.

'This little brat,' Eirwen's brow twitched as he leaned on the stand, pressing both palms against the cheap wood. It slightly creaked underneath his hands.

"So how much is it?!" He asked, nearly spitting at the boy.

He furrowed his eyebrows, finally looking at Eirwen and crossed his arms, "200.000 Credits"

Standing up straight, Eirwen cursed under his breath and reached for his back pocket to take out his wallet, but the boy suddenly spoke up, "We don't accept online transactions here, genius. At least try to blend in, you rich mo-,"

Eirwen has had enough of the boy's attitude. Shooting his hand forward, he grabbed him by the collar and yanked him over the stand. The few people who hadn't already been staring, now turned their attention toward them.

"Look here now, either you treat me with respect or-"

"Or what?!" a rough voice resounded from behind the stall. A fat man with greasy hair and a round face stepped out.

It was the real owner of the Memory shop.

Eirwen's anger didn't calm though. No, it only intensified.