Chapter 107: Welcome To The Order [Illustration]

Farther away from Rachel's place and Mary's studio stands Ruler's Den — a local pub that is apparently renowned for its chili fries.

However, that's not the reason Marlin is here, as he stares blankly at the place's illuminated signage that drones on. By this hour since he left the studio, only a fading orange outlines the buildings around him while the sun tucks in. He doesn't have much time if he wants to be back before worrying his niece.

No, will he even be able to come back?

Marlin swiftly clamps down his worries and double-checks the note he was given by the Italian man. 'This is definitely the place.'

Fortunately, there are quite a few patrons parked. Along with people shopping around the district, it makes him feel better knowing he's not being directed to a sketchy venue alone.

Although, that's not saying much when the invite comes from a cult.

The way they organized across the world, meeting in person is generally discouraged. Instead, encrypted channels are used, taking advantage of the internet and corners of social media wherever they can. While it still feels icky to be in these channels, Marlin is lucky enough that he hasn't needed to interact with many members in person aside from Stavian, and that man is one of the more tame believers.

Yet, to acquire knowledge from deeper archives on Isis to support the study of the strange book he was given, he had to travel to select businesses within Britain that appeared normal on front but would hold material for members following a set of rules.

This pub had to be the same, especially since he wasn't given a specific time and day to meet. If not, he's going to look stupid to whoever owns this place.

'Get it together,' he tells himself one last time.

Tightening his hands into a fist, then relaxing, he steps into the pub. Unknown to him, a puddle of blue slime leaks from the trunk, spilling low under his rental car as he disappears.

'Damn it, uncle, I was really hoping you'd just go to a park like you said you would. What is this?' the slime version of Mary questions, her pooling mass jiggling.

As a clone of the human artist, this slimy split didn't consider she'd be made use of so soon. While agreeing overall that she had to be the one to trail him, she wished there was more time to prepare instead of being thrown to the wind by her original.

'What am I saying? This is me we're talking about.'

Grumbling, she doesn't waste further time stalling. After ensuring there's nobody walking by, she slides across the sidewalk and under the door to the pub. The area immediately brightens with dark wood planks welcoming her amorphous pallet. Above, marble counters with food towers over her while green booths press against the walls, buzzing with people relaxing from a long day of work.

Amid servers bustling between tables, Mary catches Marlin walking to the main bar in front. Unsure how her bluish mass might show up among the planks, she doesn't risk following straight and clings to the corners along booths, sliding past unwitting feet.

While this clone snakes her way past the fuel of laughter and alcohol, the main bartender on duty perks up to Marlin's approach.

"Hello! What can I get you?"

The bald man hesitates before sliding the invite he was given across, hoping the emblem and message would provide enough context. "Someone said I should come here, but with no set time to meet. Would you happen to know anything?"

Staring at the paper for only a second, the bartender shrugs. "Can't say I do. Since you're already here, though, how about I get you a drink?"

Marlin snorts, expecting no easy giveaway. Although few, his past excursions to cult-associated businesses usually involve a signal. Worst case...or best case, he'll at least have a drink and maybe an order to bring the takeout he promised his niece.

"What are your drink specials?"

The bartender hands over the menu, listing their cocktails. Looking through them, Marlin finds a particular one called "Tears of Isis," involving a blend of vodka, pear, and rosewater.

He snorts. 'Well, if that isn't plain as day, I don't know what is.'

"I'll have the 'Tears of Isis.' Oh, and go light on the vodka, please."

"Sure, I'll have that ready shortly."

As the bartender steps to the side to prepare the mix, Marlin's ears perk up to a television screen above him, airing the local news...

"Returning to our coverage of the crash at the intersection of Chester and Ray, the President of Sights Open, Lecia Bowden, remains missing."

With the name dropped, Marlin's eyes snap to the screen, his shoulders tensing. He had only learned of this woman today through Viviane and Mary as the suspected summoner of the slimes. Now, this woman was involved in an accident?

At the same time, Mary also freezes in her gooey crawl, having made her way behind the bar counter and its shelves. If she had her human form in place, her jaw would've been dropped to the floor as she hears this news for the first time.

In place of that, her compressed form simply wobbles. 'What the hell?!'

The anchor continues. "At the same time, police are still investigating the cause behind the accident, resulting in the death of Lecia's personal driver, Jon Anthony, and the driver who ran into the car, Aaron Grot. So far, initial reports indicate Grot had a heart attack, but Keystone police and medical officials have not confirmed anything at this time."

The scene switches to a press conference with the chief of police on stand. "While we can't comment on how or why Miss Bowden was missing from the car as we scour footage, I would ask anyone who has seen her to call us immediately. Our hope is that she is alive and may have been dropped off somewhere before the crash. We ask for patience as we—"

"It's quite the shame, isn't it?"

A velvety voice pierces through Marlin's right ear, jerking his concentration. At that moment, the busy air of the pub and news deafens.

He passes a small breath, feeling as if he'd just woken up again. The sound of his heart reverberates through his skull as he turns to his sudden neighbor — a woman, seemingly in her late twenties to early thirties, already seated to his side at the bar without a peep to her entrance.

With unusually dark eyes, long cinnamon hair, and a red dress, Marlin feels like his focus is forcefully warped to her. It may not be an exaggeration, either, as his vision dims around her.

"I heard Lecia has done a lot for this city," the woman notes, providing a hint of a French origin laced with her words. It's mostly a toned-down accent, but one might assume she's been residing in America for a while. Regardless of where, there's a far more concerning association at play, seeing how she's talking so easily to him.

She closes her eyes. "The problem is, anyone with her kind of mind and work to help unearth missing pieces to our world's puzzle will inevitably add to it as well. It's all interpretation, after all."

Marlin can barely register what she's trying to say, but the pit in his stomach grows deeper. He can't dwell on his stunted environment as the woman reopens her gaze and locks onto him. Her lips widen, but no matter the friendly expression, those eyes that sink into him aren't making him feel warm.

"Anyway, I digress. It's a pleasure to meet you, Marlin."

Her lone audience swallows. "Who are you?"

The woman's eyes soften, and she places a hand to her chest. "I am Morgan, part of the council to The Order. Honestly, I wasn't sure whether you'd even come, so I'm grateful that you're taking the time."

She drops it rather casually, but nothing in her voice can stop Marlin's neck from sweating, finding himself before a higher figure for the first time.

'Well...fuck me.'

Before Marlin can answer her greeting with a less dire front, a clink erases his thoughts. Switching to the marble in front of him, a glass of the "Tears of Isis" cocktail glistens on top. Although he can't see nor hear his environment, it doesn't seem like there's a complete stop to activity around.

Perhaps this isolation is within his mind: the result of a teleporting book, a cultist agenda, and slime girls all pushing him to the brink.

Morgan notices.

"I realize that coming to you like this isn't the greatest. That Nico, I wish he didn't approach you so soon after you arrived."

Marlin returns his attention to her, brows knitted. "You mean...the man at the airport?"

"Yes, my subordinate. He's a big fellow, so I hope he didn't scare you."

"Rather than that, I'm wondering how The Order even knew I'd be coming here."

To that, Morgan grins and cocks her head. "Why? Something to hide?"

"N—no, it's just that..."

Morgan laughs heartily before Marlin can finish. As her amusement fades, she straightens and lowers her head. "Sorry, your concern is valid. It's poor of me to tease in the matters of privacy."

She then clears her throat. "However, while I can't excuse the surprise you must've felt when you're only meeting family, we are entering a critical time ever since the Al-Bali star dropped. As I mentioned a puzzle, we're already dealing with the wrong pieces, and I just need to make sure everything falls into place correctly."

Marlin holds himself. "Wait..So then, the news..."

She waves her hand. "Let's not overthink it. I truly hope Lecia is found alive to know what happened. That said, you must've at least heard of the group that tried to dig into information about Isis in Egypt?"

"So, she's related to them?"

Morgan snorts. "Related? She's the leader of her very own group that we've been working to uncover! They haven't made it easy, but you know we can't have people who don't fully understand our mission."

Marlin tightens his hands, his body quivering. "I'm not even sure if I fully know. Was this...really necessary?"

The councilwoman stares calmly into the member's shaky eyes, then closes her eyes to a smile. "Why are you so concerned~? It's nothing you have to worry about. Besides, this isn't why I wanted to meet you. Perhaps try the cocktail to calm your nerves. It's quite a good combination, I heard."

Thinning his lips, Marlin doubts he should take on that risk. With knowledge of his visit and clear hand in Lecia's "accident," somehow he's not sure what actions he can afford.

Just how much do they know?

Seeing his caution, Morgan reaches over and grabs his glass, sipping it. With a sigh, she raises a brow and swirls the liquid in front of him.

"Okay, perhaps some realism will do. Is it such a surprise that we'd keep an eye on our people? You do realize how important it is that our records to Isis remain in our circles, right?"

Knowing he's already spilled secrets to Mary and Viviane, Marlin tries to remain calm. "I'm aware."

Humming, Morgan settles the glass down, passing it back to him. "Then, let me start by asking this: Why did you join The Order?"

Marlin gazes downward. "I just felt a connection to the goddess, and..."

"No, no, let's not bullshit," Morgan cuts, grinning. "Many join because they don't feel like they belong to any other religion. While we may be accepting, you and I have the markings of something more substantial."

Marlin lifts his head. "Markings?"

Continuing her smile, Morgan narrows her eyes as she lifts her hand and glances at it. "The mark of our goddess, of course. To that end, I suppose you're not wrong about feeling a connection."

Before Marlin might question...

Fwoo!

The bald man's pupils contract, his breath holding, as a yellow flame ignites in her hand. As his lips split in awe, he notices black edges rumbling around the source, unnaturally contradicting what provides light.

He's never seen such a fire from his studies, but that's far from the bigger reveal as it comes from a member of the council. Thinking he joined a cult just to understand the purpose behind the book he was given, how naive has he been?

He didn't know anything.

Morgan hums as she collapses her hand, extinguishing the unknown force she displayed.

"Based on your expression, it looks like we can be more honest with each other. Did you really think that we'd allow you to access our records and not have a clue on what you were trying to study? It's quite obvious with a history as big as ours."

Marlin can't keep his voice from cracking slightly. "If...if you knew of this...power, why keep me in the dark? In fact, why not show the world? More people would believe in the goddess if this were to spread!"

"Because ultimately, this is still a fire, and you wouldn't want a fire to spread," Morgan answers, her gaze hardening. "A fire that comes from our goddess might perform miracles, but it can equally wreak havoc, burning people worse than a traditional one. From what I can tell, you haven't learned how to use it, but you've definitely been burned, whether you know it or not. Even the great wizard, Merlin, who was the first to control this fire, couldn't escape his downfall into madness from it."

The last part spills out of Morgan with such disappointment, but Marlin can't dwell on her meaning. Rather, this was the first time he's heard Merlin being acknowledged. Seeing how little he knows, he chuckles flatly and decides to take a sip of the cocktail, needing it now and more than ever.

A different fire from the vodka warms him. Taking a breath, he refocuses back to her. "So you've known about the book I received?"

She raises a brow. "We always assumed, but it helps to see you're confirming."

Marlin face falls. 'Shit.'

"It makes little difference how you got an imbued book." Morgan shrugs. "If I had to guess, you've been contacted through some remaining follower of Merlin — thrusting you into his madness...stubbornness—to stop what Isis can offer to this world. Even in death, his beliefs have been a problem for us that we continually try to pick apart."

She pauses for a second, scoffing while shaking her head. "This is all to say; you're not the first, but you're alive, at least."

The bald man pales while her finger travels around the marble counter. "In any case, a book you received by his believers would not be able to be read by anyone else. Why do you think we allowed you to study it on your own with the help of our records? To dive into your curiosities?"

Marlin's eyes hold steadily. "To...learn from me later."

Morgan grins. "And now that we're clear, I hope we can be more transparent with each other, to separate the wrong pieces from the right."

She stands up from her seat.

"So far, we know Lecia was involved with a particular traitor, but we don't know how or what she has done in her advancement of this magic. At the very least, the difference between you and her is that you joined us instead of trying to make sense of Merlin's 'gift' on your own. To ensure that our goddess can provide a better world for all, I hope you'll cooperate with us on what you've found so far."

The implication in her words is clear: They're giving him a chance.

Shivering, Marlin lowers his gaze, gritting his teeth behind his lips. "Tell me, does this 'better world' have anything to do with the Flood?"

Morgan's eyes narrow delightfully. "What else could it be? A seal has come undone from the stars, and with it, we should have the first trickle upon us. The remnant of our goddess will fill in the key to changing this world, so everyone may become equal and loved."

The bald man's eyes briefly flicker. 'A remnant? Wait... Is Viviane who they're after?'

Recalling the elder slime's explanation of her breach and the timing of Al-Bali, he can't see any other way.

So, should he tell them? Would that allow him and Mary to be absolved from this madness?

"You have doubts. That's natural," Morgan whispers, reclaiming Marlin's attention as he feels her hand lift his chin.

She smiles. "What can you tell me of your studies so far?"

"That's..."

FWOO!

Before Marlin could answer, his eyes widen as a blue flame envelops the woman's hand touching him. From there, it spreads across her arm.

Morgan doesn't react much, only blinking before she steps back and looks at her body quickly being enveloped by the blue energy. Smiling widely, her body slowly disintegrates before her stunned guest's eyes.

"I should've guessed you'd be placed under some protection. That old fool is still making things difficult, even into this damn era," she mutters.

Turning to Marlin, her eyes close to a smile. "Well, it would seem we will have to continue this discussion later. For now, I do hope you'll continue to have our best interests at heart, Marlin. I'll have Nico drop by once things settle down in this city."

Her form turns into a silhouette as more of her form dissipates into the air. The flames grow smaller until the leaving smile of the woman opens for one last time.

"Have some faith now~"

CRASH!

The cocktail glass shatters onto the floor, and Marlin "wakes," his arm jerking against the drink as he straightens to a cold sweat across his forehead.

Suddenly, the pub revives in its chatter to his ears, but just as quickly quiets to the sound of glass at the main bar. A few glances and curious turns linger before the pub activity resumes.

The bartender, wiping away a different glass to the side, raises a brow before chuckling. "Welcome back, sir. Don't worry about the mess, I'll take care of it."

Marlin blinks a few times to make sure he's not dreaming. Currently, he's staring straight ahead to the cabinets and shelves filled with various alcohols and syrups. Turning his head to the side, he sees no evidence of Morgan ever being next to him.

He can hardly believe it.

She was a magician...or would it be a witch? Regardless, Morgan is definitely a user of the flames from an ancient goddess. Whatever happened, it was clear now he went under her effects somehow.

There's also Lecia, who conjured the flames that summoned the slime to start this mess.

Finally...

"So far, we know Lecia was involved with a particular traitor, but we don't know how and what she has done in her advancement of this magic."

Based on Morgan's words, if Lecia had been enveloped by blue flames while reading Victor's book, then he could only guess that this "traitor" is the same man who was once a council member. If so, then Victor didn't leave The Order on friendly terms, possibly becoming more in line with Merlin.

The same wizard may have also pushed Morgan away from him in whatever state he was in.

He's not sure whether to be grateful when overall, The Order will be having their eyes on him.

"Should I get you another glass or...?"

Taken away from his thoughts, Marlin returns his gaze to the bartender. "W-what? No, that's uh...What happened?"

The bartender keeps a professional smile. "Only you would know, sir, but seeing how you've come through, I should offer my congratulations."

"What?"

Grabbing a nearby towel to clean up the mess, the bartender pauses before the confused member, then lowers his head and voice.

"Welcome to The Order."

Marlin's heart sinks. It would seem he's only begun to see the true face of the cult he joined.

...

..

.

After taking time to recover, Marlin ends up stepping out of the pub, dazed, and holding a bag of food ordered to go. Some chili fries and burgers were given to him on the house for the "inconvenience".

More importantly, he was given two burgers without any question. It implied they knew he was staying with his niece.

Yet, they don't seem to be aware of Viviane or this Anne. For how long depends on him.

'Damned if I do, and damned if I don't.''

He's not particularly convinced on the benefits of The Flood, especially when The Order will go through any means to remove possible variables.

That includes him as well.

Amid his internal struggles, the slimy Mary trails him with her own measure of confusion.

'What the hell just happened?'

From her perspective, Marlin grew quiet ever since hearing the newscast. A few minutes passed, then without any warning, he jumped, causing glass to fall. The bartender cleaned up, then Marlin left with food in his hand.

What's clear is that her uncle is shaken.

Additionally, she learned he drank a cocktail called 'Tears of Isis'. If that didn't sound alarm bells, she just didn't know how. Regardless, she drills the pub's name into her memory, knowing it has to be more than what it seems.

'Uncle...'