The three entered the restroom and stopped short. The floor was metallic, and the walls were draped in fairy lights, making the space feel more like a teenager's bedroom than a public toilet.
There, they found a man who looked to be in his thirties sitting on the lid of the toilet. He had messy, neck length white hair and wore a black duster jacket with the sleeves rolled to his elbows.
He had no shirt underneath, just tanned skin and a face full of stubble. He had a healthy, moderate build. His jeans were faded, torn at the knees, and he was completely barefoot. He looked like a hopeless bum. How professional.
What stood out to Zorn the most was his necklace. A raw aquamarine crystal hung from a tightly woven cord of black leather, resting against his bare chest. It seemed too fine, too intentional for a man who didn't even bother with shoes.
He took a slow drag from a cigarette, his icy blue eyes looking bored and tired. Zorn’s eyes widened in utter shock. Donal didn’t seem surprised at all, and Khor looked like he couldn’t care less.
“That is NOT Cinco! It can’t be!” Zorn yelled, throwing his hands out in disbelief.
“No, I’m not. My name is Bijal,” the man replied. He reached for a black stetson and settled it on his head. “I’m better looking,” he added with a grin.
“I doubt that,” Zorn whispered.
Bijal sucked his teeth at the snide comment and leaned forward to look at Donal. “What can I do for ya, Don?”
Donal stepped forward and pulled the Relic from his pocket. He held it out, letting the divine light sparkle against Bijal’s blank face. A long, heavy silence followed.
“You tryin’ to get shot, Don? Why do you have that?” Bijal asked, exhaling a cloud of smoke.
Zorn flinched at the sudden threat, glancing frantically between the two men. Donal didn't move an inch.
“Because the Red Saints have a fake with a tracker. We need you to help us contact Cinco. We have to follow Brennan’s energy through the mystic currents,” Donal said calmly.
Bijal’s eyes widened. He let out a long sigh and hung his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Can you do it or not?” Khor asked, folding his arms.
“Can I do it? Do I look like a pansy to you? Of course I can, but if that Moon God heads my way, I’m ratting. I don’t play with gods, Don. This is the craziest scheme you’ve ever cooked up.” Bijal grunted as he stood up and adjusted his hat.
He walked over to the shower and yanked back the curtain. Instead of a tub, it revealed a massive pinboard covered in phone numbers, secret commissions, and high ranked bounties.
“This isn't a good idea, Don. He’ll snitch the second things get hot!” Zorn said, his worry growing.
“He’s been saying that for ten years,” Donal chuckled. “He stands up for us every time.”
Bijal yanked a glittery paper off the board and scanned it.
“Star Rangers are nomads. They never stay in one place. They’re a bitch ‘n’ a half to track down when you actually need one.”
“But why?” Zorn asked.
“Because people think they’re omens. Some villages chase them away just for showing up.”
Bijal shrugged, gripping a piece of paper tinted in deep blue and purple. He took the cigarette out of his mouth.
“Back up, kid. I need to work.”
Zorn stepped back toward Donal and Khor.
“He should be wherever the currents are most unstable. If you’re saying a god was here, he’s probably nearby,” Bijal mumbled.
He cleared his throat and held his hand over the paper. His eyes began to glow a brilliant, piercing blue. A gentle wind conjured out of nowhere, brushing through his hair and clothes.
“Reveal to me Cinco de la Libertad,” his voice echoed with an unnatural resonance.
Zorn gasped. He would have never guessed this lazy, barefoot man possessed such raw, bright magic.
He leaned to Khor and whispered.
“What does that mean?”
Khor whispered back. “Five of Freedom.”
Bijal gripped the brim of his stetson as light sparked on the paper, projecting a hologram of a map. It showed the magical currents of the area like glowing spheres. One particular current sparkled orange and yellow, standing out against the cool blue and purple of the others.
“Well, there it is. That orange one is where your god appeared. The most unstable current is south of the Draconian White Palace near the docks. Your chances of finding Cinco there are high. I’d go now, before he stabilizes it and disappears,” Bijal stated flatly.
“Thanks, Bijal, we appreciate it,” Donal said with a smile. He then dropped some gold petals into Bijal's hand.
Bijal tipped his hat a little with a nod. He put the tinted paper back onto the wall and closed the curtain.
“Bijal, I have a question. Why do you barely dress–” before Zorn could finish his question, loud banging on the door echoed through the room.
Bang!
Bang!
The room fell silent and Bijal glared at the door.
“More Fae Star members?” Zorn asked.
“If it is, they got some damn nerve knocking like they are cops,” Bijal replied, pulling out a revolver.
“Open up. I know you're harboring a celestial in there,” a woman's voice muffled behind the door.
Zorn's heart sank. He was found out once again. Something wasn't right. His glyph was hidden this time. How could someone have possibly known?
“Damn it, it's Jade,” Bijal murmured.
The woman from the booth finally busted the door open with her foot.
A tall woman in a black turtleneck romper stood beyond the threshold. The outfit was form fitting, highlighting an hourglass shape. Her skin was smooth and milky, and she appeared to be in her early twenties. Her thighs were encased in steel boots accented with sapphires.
The short heels clacked against the metallic floor. Her chest and arms shared the same metallic armor as her legs. A thin black and blue train hung from her shoulder armor, matching the accents of her bobbed hair. Her eyes were sharp and focused, staring right back at the four of them.
“Waddya want, Jade? This is a business room only. You know this,” Bijal grumbled as he took a drag from his cigarette.
Jade stepped forward and pointed a sharp gauntlet gloved finger straight at Zorn, her stance confident.
“Do any of you three know you are walking with a celestial? That's highly against the law here!”
Zorn balled his fists, ready to fight, only to find her backed up by the rest of her gang. They carried heavy, intricate claymores over their shoulders. Zorn's shoulders sank. They seemed bigger than the Relic Guard back at the beach.
“Under the name of the Iron Veil Guild, you are under arrest,” Jade announced starkly.
Zorn’s eyes widened, his breath hitching in his throat.
Another guild?! For the law?!
“Now hold on,” Bijal sighed. He began to spin his revolver around his finger by the trigger guard, the metallic clicking rhythmic and steady.
“You don't even have a warrant. I have a strict policy for people like you and your military guild. No warrant, no scene. Get lost,” his tone sharpened at the end, cutting through the tension like a blade.
One of Jade’s guild members stepped forward heavily, his armor clanking as he tried to loom over Bijal.
Bijal didn't flinch. He simply tilted his head forward until the brim of his stetson obscured his eyes, then snapped the barrel of the revolver into place with a flick of his wrist.
Click.
Jade immediately threw her arm out, barring her member’s path. She shot a warning glare over her shoulder.
“This is not the one you want to bully,” she muttered.
She turned her focus back to the room, her eyes locking onto Zorn with predatory intensity.
“We’ll leave. For now.”
Zorn felt a surge of irritation beneath her gaze. She turned her back on him and stepped out of the restroom, her heels clacking against the metal floor.
As she moved into the hallway, she leaned toward her subordinates, her voice a low, muffled whisper.
“Stay out of sight. Follow them.”
Her members gave a brief, silent nod and trailed after her.
Zorn stood there with a growing pit in his stomach. The fear was quickly being replaced by a hot, simmering anger. He balled his fists so tight that his knuckles began to crack. Every instinct he had was screaming the same thing.
This wasn't over. He would have to face her again.
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