2 A Crimson Pouch and Gingers

When Faine rose from his sleep, he recognized the fur cloak protecting his naked body as the god's. No commoner nor king could own something so intricately flawless. The material was simply otherworldly, probably once a creature from another realm's. Its softness had the courtesan guessing how expensive it would be once sold under a human market. He was tempted to find out for a moment.

However, he was not so cruel as to sell his favorite client's gifts, especially when he remembered the way the god's eyes had brightened at the sight of a familiar red ruby necklace wrapped around his delicate neck. Ever since then, the courtesan was showered with gifts that left him wondering about their origins.

He smiled to himself, burying his nose deeper into the fur's scent, hoping to catch a whiff of his dashing client. He was fortunate enough to be engulfed in the scent he was searching for, as if Yvnir had not left his side earlier at dawn. But before he could become lost in a fantasy, he pulled the cloak away from his nostrils, a portion of his soul chasing after the smell.

As he moved around the mattress, searching for the rest of his clothes that had been carelessly thrown around, he stumbled upon a pouch, crimson fabric visibly as expensive as the rest of Yvnir's gifts. Heavy, too, filled with unimaginably enticing wealth, enough to feed a family for weeks.

"Heh... He wasn't kidding when he said he'd pay thrice as much as usual. He could have at least stayed for an actual week, though." He pouted, longing for the comfort those affectionate silver eyes willingly offered him. It was such a shame that his nightly partner was busy being a powerful immortal being.

Still, Faine was quick to move on with his day, leaving the room of the brothel he was sure others had to use for their own private affairs. He could barely bring himself to clean up the traces of their eventful night—not that Yvnir left him much to clean anyway—the ache in his legs, his back, and overall, his bottom half rendered him almost paralyzed in pain. He stumbled through the halls of the establishment, looking for the house's head after deeming himself presentable.

And at the sight of Faine, the older, more exuberant male stood from behind his desk and offered the courtesan a seat.

"Lovely to see you, darling. I see our favorite regular paid our establishment yet another visit. Left quite magnificent gifts, too!" He beamed, sparkles forming in his eyes at the sight of gold and several rare jewels. The courtesan did not flinch as his Madam pocketed the intricacies contained inside, leaving the pouch for Faine with his share of the earnings as requested by the courtesan himself.

"I'm happy it makes you happy, Madam." Faine smiled, eyes flicking from the other's long and exaggerated hair to the myriad of color painting his face. "You've made some changes to your look. It fits you marvelously, I'd be blinded had I not already been used to your beauty."

"You flatter me, boy." The Madam was quick to scold his worker, but the blush on his cheeks and the mirthful chuckle that chimed across the room told Faine of his appreciation.

"It is not flattery when it is simply the truth."

The Madam, known around the city as Geona, chuckled once again, playfully swatting his hand in Faine's direction.

"Had I not known any better, I'd assume you're trying to butter your way out of working, darling."

"Of course not! I'm diligent as much as I am handsome, you know that, Madam."

Geona merely hummed, "Diligent, yes, but only when it comes to the god of death, it seems."

Faine remained quiet in his seat, a direct result of his inability to formulate a response. His eyes widened like a deer caught in the headlights. The shift in the atmosphere almost suffocating as he watched the joy leave his Madam's eyes.

"I appreciate your existence, Faine darling. You're a sweet child, and we got lucky with how fond the divine are of you. You've gathered quite a curious crowd because of that. A few admirers, too..."

He gulped as his Madam circled around his seat. A polished finger lifted a strand of his hair from his face, twirling it interrogatively, and Faine's every instinct was flaring, telling him he was in trouble.

"Some persistent enough to drag my ass into it. But you're a picky one, aren't you?" A single finger—Madam's nails were so sharp, how come he had only noticed now—booped his nose. It was a cute gesture, but the lingering threat had the courtesan thinking it was anything but.

"Now, I don't know what the nature of your relationship is with that almighty deity of yours, but I do know you're an honest worker, an honest worker that doesn't like being a bother. I wouldn't have been so easy on you had it not been for your first regular. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Madam."

"Good. I don't like some of those dirty bastards either, bub. But they're much worse when they're frustrated. I trust you can satiate maybe one or two, enough to give me a peaceful week. Get some good cash in while you're at it. You have a good eye for luxury, don't you?"

"Yes, Madam."

"Don't be so tense now, my lovely. I'm still your same modest Madam. Now shoo-shoo, go on, get going. You have places to be, I'm sure." His Madam's voice mellowed into the welcoming tone Faine was used to, one much warmer, making it so that his Madam was unrecognizable from the person he had become a few moments prior.

"Yes, of course. Thank you, Madam." Faine bowed in respect, greeting the head of the house a nervous goodbye before turning on his heel, feet urgently scurrying towards the exit of the brothel.

Before he could get a breath of fresh air, however, he was met with another courtesan draped in lavish silk. Those reflective blue eyes, as if they were made of water from the purest springs, narrowed ever so slightly upon meeting his.

A silent acknowledgment was shared between the two. Faine could barely hold himself from clenching his teeth. The pretty bastard seemed to be exclusively unpleasant towards him and a suck up to others. And out of what? Faine could not pinpoint his exact motivation, but something in his gut told him it was out of petty jealousy.

"Nice cloak." Altair muttered before stepping out of Faine's way. An unspoken 'thank you' clung onto his lips, unable to be said due to the other courtesan's chaste walking pace.

He was quick to take the opportunity to leave, lips falling into a flat line, realizing just how peculiar he must look wandering a brothel in a cloak of pure black.

--

A relief it truly was when Faine was greeted with the nostalgic smell of the market. Their city being quite close to the shore, it was no wonder a huge portion of the goods sold were fish. Still, the male found himself appreciating the swampy smell of raw fish, preferring it over the overwhelming swirl of cheap perfume and carnal desire that seemed to be mated with the brothel.

As he was asking for prices from a baker, a wrinkly, quite calloused, and dirtied hand reached for his arm. Faine did not flinch. He did, however, stop his conversation fully to avert his attention to the owner of the hand.

"Young man... Care to spare a beggar like me some change? My.. children, I have five of them. I am struggling to put food in their hungry mouths."

The courtesan was quick to reach for his crimson pouch, eyes wide in concern. "Why, yes, of course. How much will suffice—"

"Uncle Faine! Stop! He's trying to trick you!"

Two tiny feet were quick to find themselves in front of Faine, standing between him and the beggar.

"His kids left him five years ago! He's gonna waste your money on drinking!" Elva, the little girl, removed her hand from her twin's to point at the old beggar with a confrontational sneer.

"Oh? Is that true, Eli?" The little boy, messy hair pushed down with an adorable hat, nodded at him as if eager to prove a point.

"Mom and Dad told us about this stinky old man with weird hair tricking them!" He balled his two fists as if containing his rage, earning an approving gesture from his sister.

Faine turned to the old man, "Well, in that case, I'm afraid I can't offer you any money, sir. I'd be glad to buy you a piece of bread, though."

The beggar scoffed, "Don't bother, slut. Damn kids, stop being so damn nosy."

The courtesan's eyes narrowed protectively. "Sir, I advise you leave now before I give you something else to drink about."

As the older man walked away, Faine turned to the two, the sight of the identical twins sending a shot of warmth through his being.

"Thanks, you two. You've saved my foolish bum once again."

"Uhuh! You just keep getting into trouble, again and again." Elva pointed out, her twin quick to back her up with his own gestures of agreement.

"Okay, okay, I'll pay you guys cookies for compensation. What about that?" He offered playfully, about to buy the two their favorite snack anyway.

The twins cheered him on as he turned to the baker, excited to get their hands on some sweet treats. He watched as the twins fought over the cookies, impatiently scarfing down the delicacies. Now that Faine was able to take a proper look at them, he noticed they had gotten skinnier, clothing worn down. His heart ached for them, but he managed to keep it to himself, covering over the traces of his sympathy with a smile.

Quickly, the three found a bench to rest on, two adorable pairs of feet dangling from their seat, still unable to reach the ground sitting. A longer set of legs accompanied them, still partly covered by a massive black fur cloak.

Eli was quick to point it out, tugging at the unbelievably fuzzy material, to which Faine explained was a gift from his friend.

"You get a lot of gifts, Uncle Faine. Are you famous or something?" Elva asked, not a hint of hesitation coming from her childish mind.

"I wouldn't call myself famous. A lot of people just like my personality." He winked, causing a fit of laughter from the two.

"Well, I guess I shouldn't be surprised a doof like you is famous. Brother's famous now, too, after all."

"Oh? What about Sae?" His eyebrow raised in interest. Only now had he realized that he hadn't heard from the easygoing fisherman for a long time.

"A bunch of weirdos keep saying he's the son of a god or something! That doesn't make sense. Gods are cool. There's nothing cool about daddy!" Eli answered with an unapologetic enthusiasm that had Faine struggling to contain his laughter, the child waving his chubby hands in the air in exaggerated motions.

Their eldest, Saeger, was adopted, a child that was mysteriously found on the shore after a particularly harsh storm. With his unusual head of dark teal, a color that reflected the sea, and bright emerald eyes, he stood out effortlessly amongst the family of gingers. It was no secret to anyone that there was something beyond human with Sae, whether it be his exemplary strength or immaculate findings as a fisherman. It was no secret to anyone except Elva and Eli that is, whose parents deemed much too young to stomach the information.

"Yeah! Daddy's a doof too!" Elva added as if to add insult to injury.

"I should really talk to your mother about how mean you two have gotten..."

"What about it? Mommy said it's good for keeping doofs away." Elva looked up at him, genuinely unbothered by her and her twin's behavior.

"Of course Evelina would say that..."

He sighed, contemplating whether he should interfere in their mother's teachings to lecture the two about politeness. But before he could bring up the topic of their attitude once again, two thugs, one on the skinnier side and the other intimidatingly tall and broad, approached them.

"Are those your fans, Uncle Faine?"

He turned to the two children. "Uncle Faine's about to find out, hm? Why don't you two run back home? And while you're at it, can you hand these over to your mom? I'll buy you guys candy if I hear you're extra good."

"Fine, but we get to choose the candy..." The little girl grumbled.

He watched as the twins struggled to take his bag from his hands, full of vegetables, meat, and a few clothing he harvested from the market. Eli's feet wobbled at the weight, but Faine was quick to set him straight.

"Bye! Love you, Uncle Faine!" The two chimed as they began running towards the direction of their house.

"Love you too, Elva, Eli!" He was careful to watch their backs, just to make sure they wouldn't run off somewhere else before facing the thugs.

"Are you the escort from Madam Geona's house?" The bigger one of them interrogated, gruff voice sending Faine's alarm bells ringing.

"...Why, you're going to have to be more specific than that, my dears." He was quick to cover his wariness with a practiced charm, masking over his authenticity with a persona he usually utilized in the workplace. Voice sweet as sugar and smile brighter than the sun.

"The god chaser. The one that's been tickling everybody's fancies these days." The skinnier one spoke up, propping himself up on the courtesan's shoulder as if to assert his dominace.

"And what if I am?" He answered, smoothly removing the smug man's elbow off of his shoulder. The thug barely noticed the otherwise demeaning gesture, lost in Faine's siren eyes.

"Our boss wants to meet ya." He snickers.

"A shame. And I thought you two were just offering a lovely gentleman some company. Guess it can't be helped. Who exactly is this boss of yours?"

"Oh, you wouldn't believe it. Tell him, Rinus!"

Rinus, who towered over the two silently, opened his mouth, and his voice once again sent chills down Faine's spine.

"Captain Calixto has requested your presence. He tasked us to bring you to him."