Eldritch Guidance

On the 13th floor of the Night Tower was a massive, lavish restaurant, called the Harmony. Dax sat at a table in the bustling restaurant, and across him sat two other people who had recently ascended to mid-tier status within the Nighthounds.

Dax was a mutant that had the appearance of a bird-man, he boasted the head of a hawk, complete with a sharp yellow beak and a striking array of brown and white feathers. However, despite his avian features, Dax lacked the wings that might have granted him the gift of flight. Beneath the typical attire of a Nighthound and feathers laid a normal humanoid body.

The restaurant where they sat was the most exclusive establishment on the east end, a place reserved solely for the Nighthounds. Renowned for its extraordinary cuisine that few could partake in, since one needed to be a mid-rank and up Nighthound member. This was a place that two of the three people at the table were excited about.

Tasha and Garth were mostly human-looking, except for Tasha's eyes, which looked like slitted cat eyes. They both wore the typical fancy suits and dog collars that many people in the upper ranks dress in to help distinguish them from regular people.

The two new "hounds," as mid-rank members were often called, radiated an almost childlike excitement. They had heard about this place and always dreamed of one day eating here to try some of the gourmet delights, a place only reserved for select members of the Nighthounds.

That was why they were all here. Tasha and Garth had recently earned their full hound status, and this meal was a celebration of their achievement.

“Although, it should be Zayne here to celebrate with these two and not me.” Dax thought to himself.

Zayne was a mentor to these two, and he was the one who helped them become hounds. Unfortunately, the rottweiler-mutant was feeling under the weather, so he had entrusted Dax with the task of celebrating with them in his stead. As a senior member, Dax was also asked to guide the two new hounds, helping them navigate the responsibilities and privileges that came with their new rank.

Tasha: “Hmm, what should I order?” she said as she flipped through the menu.

Dax: “I wouldn’t worry about that. Everything in the restaurant is free for hounds.”

Tasha: “Whoa! Really!? I’m going to order so much food then. There is a ton of stuff on this menu I’ve never heard of.”

Dax: “Just be careful. If you order too much food that you can’t eat it all, you’ll piss off the chef. He doesn't like people wasting food. And, he has enough authority to keep you in his kitchen as a dishwasher for years if you make him particularly mad.”

Garth: “Really? Who is the chef?”

Dax: “It’s Freddy Voux, an alpha. The last person who pissed him off two years ago is still cleaning dishes even now. So, consider this your fair warning.”

Within the Nighthounds, an alpha held the third-highest rank, wielding significantly more power than Dax. If Tasha or Garth incurred the wrath of an alpha, Dax would be powerless to intervene. Only the ranks of "Hound Master" and the Nightqueen herself had the authority to override an alpha's orders.

Garth: “He’s an Alpha? Why is he working as a chef?”

Dax: “No idea. But, he’s a damn good one.”

Tasha: “Hmm, I think I figured out what I’m going to have,” she said as she placed the menu down. She then turned toward Garth. “Do you know what you're having?”

Garth: “Not really. Um, do you have any suggestions?” he said, directed at Dax.

Dax: “Go for the chicken wings. You can never go wrong with that.”

Tasha and Garth exchanged puzzled glances in response to Dax's suggestion. While it wasn't right to presume that a mutant inherently shared a deep bond with the animals they resembled, Tasha and Garth found the idea difficult not to entertain. The irony of a bird-man recommending chicken wings wasn't lost on them.

Garth: “Oh, OK. Sure, I’ll try that.”

Dax nodded and gestured for a nearby waiter to come over and take their orders. Garth and Dax opted for chicken wings, while Tasha chose a dish called a Gix Foudu. The waiter jotted down what they wanted and promptly headed to the kitchen to relay the order. ꞦàΝꝊꞖΕ§

Garth: “What’s Gix Foudu?”

Tasha: “Don’t know. Just sounded funny, so I ordered it.”

Garth: “Right,” he mumbled before turning toward Dax. “So, what’s wrong with Zanye?”

Dax: “Hm, he’s been under the weather for the last little while. Apparently, he’s having nightmares and vomiting a lot.”

Tasha: “It’s nothing serious, is it?”

Dax: “I’m sure he’ll bounce back in no time. He’s a tough guy. Something like—” he said before being interpreted by a ringing sound.

The restaurant fell into an abrupt and eerie silence. All chatter ceased entirely. Garth and Tasha looked around frantically. At nearby tables, other new hounds also glanced around in confusion, trying to understand what was happening. The staff had frozen in place, and the regular patrons sat still without uttering a word. The only sound that pierced the silence was the ringing of a bell in the distance. Once the bell finally stopped, the usual hum of conversation and activity resumed as if nothing had happened.

Tasha: “What in the burning abyss was that? Why did everyone go silent all of a sudden?”

Dax: “It was the warning bell. If you hear that, you’re supposed to shut up and not make a peep.”

Tasha: “Why?”

Dax: “To make sure everyone hears it.”

Garth: “But, what is the bell warning?”

Dax: “You two just became hounds. So, you wouldn’t know. But, there is this guy. He has red eyes, black hair, and a white dog that follows him everywhere. If you see this man, you’re not supposed to talk or interact with him unless he comes to you. Most importantly, you need to show him the utmost respect and act like average people who know nothing about him. It’s all orders from the big boss herself, the Nightqueen. And, that bell is a warning to everyone that ‘guy’ is nearby.”

Tasha: “Huh? Why? Who is this guy?”

Dax: “No one knows. No details were given about this guy other than his appearance. Now, take my advice and be sure to steer clear of him. I don't know what his exact connection is with Madame Yin, but if rumors are true and you disrespect him, even by accident, it would be no different from disrespecting the big boss herself.”

Tasha: “He’s that important of a person?” she yelped out in surprise.

Garth: “What are the rumors about this guy?”

Dax: “Well, you didn’t hear it from me. But, I heard that ‘guy’ is secretly Yin’s lover.”

Tasha: “Ohhh. I see. That's why no one knows anything about this guy.”

Yin was known to be very secretive. No one besides the Hound Masters interacted with her and they did not disseminate much information about the Nightqueen. Consequently, the idea of Yin having a lover and attempting to keep it concealed did not seem entirely implausible to many within the Nighthounds. The possibility of a hidden relationship seemed consistent with her character, adding another layer of mystery to the enigmatic Nightqueen.

Dax: “Yup. I’ve even heard it might be more than that. She might have a whole secret family with this guy. Kids and all.”

Garth: “Wow.”

Dax: “But, don’t let anyone know I told you this shit. It’s not good to speculate about our boss' relationships. It could get you in—” he said before being interrupted by someone yelling.

???: “WHO THE FUCK DO THINK YOU ARE!!”

Everyone in the restaurant turned their heads toward the commotion near the entrance. A cat-mutant with tabby-cat-colored fur, wearing a fancy suit and a dog collar—identifying him as a hound—was yelling at another man. In stark contrast to the cat-mutant's attire, the man being berated wore a simple black vest over a white shirt, looking very casual compared to the rest of the restaurant. His striking red eyes and the white dog standing loyally beside him only added to the odd scene.

Tasha: “That's… not…the guy you were just talking about, is it? The one getting screamed at?”

Dax: “Ohhhh, Light. This is not good. That cat-mutant must be a new hound and not know. He wouldn’t have done this otherwise. Once the Nightqueen hears this, he’s so dead.”

Garth and Tasha's eyes widened in surprise as Dax confirmed the identity of the person being yelled at. Instantly, they directed their full attention back to the confrontation unfolding before them.

From what could be seen, there was shattered glass on the ground and what appeared to be red wine splattered all over the cat-mutant's suit.

Red-Eyed Man: “I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you. It was an accident,” he said while looking panicked.

Cat-mutant: “I’ve spilled wine all over my brand new suit because of you! This was supposed to be my big celebration day, and you ruined it!”

Red-Eyed Man: “Again, I’m so sorry. I’ll pay for a new suit for you.”

Cat-mutant: “That’s not going to cut it. You’re going to pay a lot more for this,” he said as he reached out to grab the red-eyed man's shirt.

The large dog beside the man seemed poised to act when another individual approached the cat-mutant, seizing the mutant's arm before it could touch the red-eyed man.

Cat-mutant: “Who dar—Wha?”

The man who grabbed the cat-mutant's arm was a towering, muscular bull-man with brownish-black fur. He had yellow eyes, cow-like ears, and a long face. The top of his head was crowned with a pair of pointed horns. The mutant-man wore the white uniform designated for the head chef of the kitchen.

This was Freddy Voux.

Freddy: “No fighting in my restaurant.”

Cat-mutant: “F-Freddy?” he said, sounding both scared and familiar with the bull-man.

Freddy let go of the cat-mutant and turned towards the red-eyed man, before bowing apologetically.

Freddy: “I’m very sorry sir, I hope my employee didn’t bother you. He’s new, so please forgive him.”

Red-Eyed Man: “Oh, no. It is completely my fault.”

Freddy: “Is that so?” he said as he turned back toward the cat-mutant.

Cat-mutant: “Freddy, t-that asshole spilled wine all over me.”

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Freddy: “You’re drunk.”

Cat-mutant: “Huh?”

Freddy: “I know it’s hard to tell for some mutants if they're drunk, but I can smell alcohol in your breath. It's excessive. You probably drunkenly bump into him,” he said while pointing to the red-eyed man with his thumb.

Red-Eyed Man: “No, it really was my fault. Let me make this up to him by paying for the damage to his clothing.”

Freddy: “Please, allow me to handle that.”

Red-Eyed Man: “But—” he said, before getting cut off by Freddy.

Freddy: “You are an honored guest of Madam Yin. She would never forgive me if I made you pay for anything in my restaurant, even for this.”

Red-Eyed Man: “It’s really no trouble. But, if you’re sure…”

Freddy: “I am. The usual VIP room is prepared. Please get comfortable while I handle this.”

The red-eyed man nodded and followed another waiter to a private room deeper within the restaurant. Freddy watched intently, his gaze never wavering, until he saw the red-eyed man enter the soundproof VIP room. Once the door closed, Freddy turned back to the cat-mutant.

The cat-mutant wore a dumbfounded expression as he processed what Freddy had said. Realization slowly dawned on him, and his demeanor shifted and became even more fearful.

Cat-mutant: “M-m-m-madam YIN!!! That guy knows the Nightqu—” he said, before being interrupted by getting hit in the head.

Freddy had punched the cat-mutant square in the face, sending the cat-man tumbling to the ground. As the cat-man lay sprawled on the floor, he looked up to see Freddy looming over him, his eyes blazing with fury. Freddy's face contorted with rage; every muscle tensed, giving him a menacing appearance.

Freddy: “YOU FUCKING DUMB PIECE OF SHIT!!!! You have no idea how close you were to getting fucked up! If you had laid a single hand on that guy, you’d be wishing for death!” he screamed.

The cat-man could only shudder as blood dripped from his nose while Freddy yelled at him.

Freddy then turned to face the entire restaurant, where groups of Nighthound members sat around, having just witnessed the entire altercation. The room fell silent, the air thick with tension, as every eye fixed on Freddy, who now stood as the center of attention. The diners exchanged uneasy glances between each other.

Freddy: “For any new hounds here, stay the fuck away from the red-eyed man! This is your only warning. Next time this happens, I’ll let Samson deal with ya!”

The threat of Samson caused everyone in the restaurant to start chattering. “The Sadist '' was well known to all Nighthound members, even to mutts at the bottom of the hierarchy. Invoking Samson's name was a serious threat, as he handled all problems with either torture or murder.

Freddy: “You three,” he said while pointing at some nearby waiters. “Take this fucker to the kitchen and kick him a few more times before putting him on dishwasher,” he added, gesturing toward the cat-man on the ground.

The waiters did as they were told, hoisting the cat-man off the ground and carrying him to the kitchen. Freddy trailed closely behind, his eyes fixed on the struggling figure.

♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

John casually entered the VIP room, following closely behind a waiter. The walls of the room were adorned in a dark shade of purple, with paintings of abstract art hanging elegantly from them. On one side of the room, a large open window offered a view of the bustling street below, letting in some natural light that contrasted with the dim interior. The centerpiece of the room was a round table draped with a pristine white tablecloth with two full sets of plates, silverware, and crystal glasses. A comfortable leather booth seat curved around one side of the table. Off to the side, an ice bucket stood ready with a bottle of fine wine chilling within it, completing the space as a place of luxury and comfort.

The waiter gestured for John to take a seat. With a nod of acknowledgment, John slid into the plush leather booth and settled in. He adjusted himself to find the most comfortable position, feeling the smooth, cool leather against his back.

Waiter: “Sir, would you like a menu, or will it be the usual?

John: “The usual.”

Waiter: “Very good, sir,” he said with a bow before exiting the isolated room.

John had visited the Harmony many times, and his usual order was always the chef's recommendation for the day. Due to his difficulty reading a lot of the local script, John preferred to rely on the chef's expertise rather than struggle with a menu he couldn’t fully understand. This approach not only spared him the challenge of deciphering an unfamiliar language of this world, but also ensured he could enjoy a variety of different dishes at the chef's discretion.

He glanced over to the corner of the room and noticed a cozy dog bed where Lunar was resting. Beside the bed sat a pair of silver dishes—one filled with water and the other that was currently empty. Lunar looked content, nestled comfortably in the soft bed.

“They even made a little spot for Lunar. How nice. I guess this VIP room must be exclusively for me and Yin. Man… How far that little girl has gotten since I met her all those years ago.” John thought to himself.

John began to reminisce, recalling the first time he met Yin. She had been a sad, homeless fox-girl with nowhere to go, and her plight had tugged at his heartstrings. He had wanted to offer her a place to stay, but the circumstances of his own living situation were far from normal. Although the Mystic Emporium was safe enough for him to live in, he wasn't certain it would be the same for others. The store was an unpredictable place, with objects constantly moving around when not looking and strange sounds echoing through its halls once in a while. It wasn't the kind of environment in which he felt comfortable inviting someone else to live.

As such, he found another place for her to live and provided her with some money to help her get on her feet. The assistance he offered all those years ago had developed into everything surrounding him now. Yin now owned the very building he was in, along with substantial chunks of land throughout the east end of the city. Through the Nighthounds, she amassed significant power and wealth, transforming not only her own life but also the lives of those around her.

To John, the Nighthounds seemed like a massive conglomerate led by Yin. He had no idea about the criminal activities the organization was involved in. He was unaware of the murders, smuggling, money laundering, and illegal brothels that had been their past methods of operation. Although the Nighthounds had gradually shifted away from many of their explicitly illegal activities, they were not entirely free from their past. They still resorted to murder if someone posed a threat. Over time, however, the Nighthounds had become more of a sleeping beast—less overtly active but still dangerous when provoked.

Suddenly, the door to the room opened, revealing the familiar fox-woman who had been on John's mind. Yin entered, wearing her usual long black and white silk robes, reminiscent of traditional Asian attire from John's original world. Her nine giant, fluffy white tails swayed gracefully behind her. With a radiant smile, she approached John with bubbly excitement, her eyes sparkling with joy.

“She really looks like a Kitsune from my world's folklore.” John thought to himself.

Yin: “Darling, you’re here.”

John: “Yin, So good to see you.”

Yin immediately slid into the booth seat beside John, wrapping herself around his left arm. She pressed close, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder like a cat showing affection.

“I wonder if this is a fox-mutant thing?” John wondered about the behavior of rubbing Yin’s cheek against him.

To anyone watching, it was clear that Yin was smitten with John. Anyone observing would easily assume that the rumors about John and Yin being lovers were true. However, there wasn’t any serious relationship between them like that.

John was well aware of Yin's affection for him, but he felt there were too many obstacles preventing any meaningful partnership. First, he had already experienced heartbreak with his previous wife and didn’t want to risk going through that pain again. Second, there was a large age gap of at least thirty years between them. While John didn’t believe there was anything inherently wrong with relationships between two consenting adults, the age disparity still made him uncomfortable.

More importantly, he saved Yin from a dire situation when she was a teenager, helping her out of poverty and finding her a home when she was homeless. No matter what he said or did, pursuing a relationship with her after all he had done for her would always feel coercive and manipulative, and he didn’t want to do that to her.

Most importantly, John had a lot of weird stuff going on. Due to his inherent connection with otherworldly forces, he wasn't entirely sure it was safe for him to pursue something as intimate as love. He feared that he might somehow entrap someone else into Onyx’s whims, as he currently is. He couldn’t forgive himself if that happened, especially if it was someone he truly did love.

As a result, John would deny her advances or just act oblivious to them, trying not to hurt her feelings. He only cared for her as a father would a daughter.

Yin: “You really should visit me more often.”

John: “Well, you’re busy. And, I hate to interrupt your work.”

Yin: “I know. Work has been such a pain lately,” she said as she finally let go of John’s arm and sat up straight. “I have been dealing with some people encroaching on my business in Loffa.”

John: “Oh, really?”

Yin: “Yeah. Actually, I was wondering if you could help me out with that?”

John: “I’m not that savvy when it comes to running a business.”

Yin: “Oh, you’re so humble. Your advice has always helped me. I’m sure you might have some insight into what I'm dealing with. Besides, hearing from an outside perspective is helpful regardless.”

John: “If you say so.”

Yin smiled at John's response. This was the real reason she asked him out today. While she loved spending time with John, she wanted his help with dealing with the cult of the Deep Ones in Loffa.

She understood John all too well and knew she couldn't simply ask him for assistance directly. The unwritten rule that most of his patrons quickly learned was to act mundane in their interactions with him. She had to ask him in a roundabout way. Therefore, Yin carefully framed the entire matter as a business conflict, hoping to coax some useful information out of John while acting like a normal business tycoon.

John: “So, what is exactly your problem?”

Yin: “It is as I said. I have some business operations in Loffa, and they're getting disrupted by another business forcing their way into that city.”

John: “What exactly is this business they're disrupting, if you can say? I understand if you can’t expand on the entirety of the details. Because of business secrets and all. I get it.”

Yin took a few seconds to think. She was trying to frame her response in terms without mentioning the Cult of the Deep Ones.

Yin: “How do I explain? I guess the best way to describe them is as a corporation that was into fishing, but suddenly got into shipping instead. And, they are cannibalizing everything in Loffa now because of it.”

John: “Hmm, shipping? So, this company has completely monopolized shipping out of Loffa?”

Yin: “Not completely, but they're trying.”

John: “I see. They're trying to control an aspect of the supply chain. They're trying to make a monopoly.”

“That’s not good. Loffa is a major port city north of here, and a lot of goods probably go through it. And, they probably won't stop at Loffa. If this company is trying to build a true monopoly, they’ll try to seize control over every major port they can. I know that monopolies are never good for people, especially for the supply chain. That could lead to an increase in prices for everything, hurting everyone, from businesses to everyday people. I see why Yin is so concerned.” John thought to himself.

John: “Is it just Loffa? Or, are they in any other major port cities?”

Yin: “No. Loffa is the first one they're attempting. But, I’m sure they sneakily have control over some other smaller coastal communities I'm unaware of.”

“So they went after the smaller ports before going after the bigger ones.” John thought to himself.

John: “I assume you're trying to stop them?”

Yin: “Yes. But, one of the businesses we’ve been working with has turned on us in favor of the shipping corporation. I’ve had to send one of my best workers to try to sort that out, while I try to figure out a way to stop them from taking over Loffa.”

John: “Hmm, all sounds very problematic.”

Yin: “It seems that you understand what I’m going through,” she said, followed by a long sigh. “Have any idea of what I should do or anything I need to watch out for?”

“If I recall how monopolies work, they often don’t stop in one industry. So maybe this company is trying to expand somewhere else. If I control the ports, that means I control half the supply chain. The other half of the chain would be the transportation of the goods from the port to everything on the mainland. So, they may be going after that as well.” John silently pondered to himself.

John: “Well firstly, I don’t think they’d stop at Loffa by the sounds of things.”

Yin: “I don’t think so either, but it seems all their focus is on Loffa for now. So, that is where my focus is as well.”

John: “Well, you obviously can’t let them have Loffa, but keep an eye out for anyone they're working with. They're probably going to try and work with another company on the mainland, probably a big one too if they can.”

Yin: “A big one?” she said, sounding confused.

Throughout the entire conversation, Yin had framed the Cult of the Deep Ones as merely a "company," maintaining that usual act of mundanity around John. Therefore, whenever "company" was mentioned, she believed it referred to a cult. Given this context, Yin could only assume that a "big company" meant a large and powerful cult. Specifically, one of the big three cults. This realization was deeply worrying to Yin.

Yin initially believed that the Cult of the Deep Ones was merely attempting to control the underworld in Loffa and reestablish their presence on the mainland after being driven out to sea hundreds of years ago. She hadn't considered the possibility that they might be collaborating with one of the big three. Cults typically didn't work together.

John: “Exactly, particularly a company that can move a significant volume of goods or one that stands to benefit greatly from what’s being transported—or both.”

“Any of the three could help the Cult of the Deep Ones move materials or supplies. But, wait? Are they actually transporting something? I know I framed them as a shipping company, but I wasn't seriously suggesting they were moving goods. What are they moving? Is it just illegal goods for money? Or is it something more?” Yin pondered to herself.

John: “Also, it might not just be a big one. There might be a bunch of little companies that could move goods along with the big one.”

“And now there are more cults in Loffa than the big three or Deep Ones? What the heck is going on in that city?!” Yin thought to herself.

Yin: “This… I haven't considered. This is deeply worrying. Ugh, what should I do, John?”

John: “Well, I’m unaware of the ins and outs of your business to make any serious suggestions. And, I'm probably not qualified to know them anyway. But if I were you, I would try working with some of my other business partners to try and contain this hostile company if possible.”

“He’s obviously telling me to work with the others. Ugh, does that mean I have to ask that bitch Scarlett for help?” Yin groaned internally.

Yin: “I…see. Thank you.”

John: “No need for thanks,” he said with a smile.

Suddenly, a waiter entered the room, carrying plates of food for both John and Yin. For the next hour, they would both engage in idle conversation while they savored the delicious meal prepared for them.

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