Aisha walked through the courtyard of her estate, fingers lingering on the communication pendant on her throat. Her pace was brisk, her mind turbulent. Every other second she would receive an update on the situation from any one of five different servants she’d sent out to supervise the operation.
She mentally double-checked and triple-checked the reports as the city-guards fulfilled their orders. The illegal dens had been breached and assaulted all at the same time, with the intention of making it impossible for them to raise an alarm. They’d expected heavy resistance, yet they’d encountered a surprisingly low number of criminals. It made their job easier, but it did raise questions, questions Aisha insisted needed to be answered.
Many of the on-site interrogations revealed that many gangs had vanished, they’d been dealt a serious blow by a stranger who’d taken over. “The Boss” had become the overlord of the city’s underworld within barely a day. Their terror of the Boss’ deeds was so great that many prisoners refused to speak at all.
It could only be one of the demons.
Prisoners were taken, locales emptied, records snatched, evidence gathered. All standard procedures for mortal affairs, everything according to the usual protocols. None of which Aisha cared for right now. She was looking for the signs of bigger things. She wasn’t privy to the Weaver’s plans beyond what she’d been tasked to do, but she was at least certain she would’ve spotted the signs of things going wrong.
A demon was a creature that would not be put down without a fight, and if the city wasn’t currently being destroyed, then it could only mean either everything was going smoothly, or the trap was yet to be sprung.
Whatever the case, the first part she’d been tasked to accomplish had gone perfectly.
There was just one more thing she needed for everything to fall into place.
“Send a message to the High Priestess,” she reached out to her pendant as she focused on one of the servants nearest to the Emir’s palace as she crossed into her study. “Tell her-”
“Tell me what?”
The voice called out from behind Aisha’s desk. For the High Priestess sat there, dressed in the rich blue holy-garbs as the last time they’d met, the three point celtic knot sewed in gold at the center of her chest. The elf’s health had improved greatly, when she’d visited Aisha the last time, the woman had been barely able to speak a full paragraph without drowsily losing track of her own words. Yet her eyes appeared far more dangerous, almost deranged.
For a moment, Aisha hesitated. Her usual reaction would’ve been wrath, and she’d very nearly did so, yet the glint in High-Priestess Ilana’s eyes was concerning. If they weren’t within Aisha’s own estate, she would’ve feared she was about to be attacked.
“I do not know where Liam is.”
Honest words, with less than honest caveats. It had been by her command that Grauch had taken Liam out of Doeta under the guise of visiting one of the farms Aisha owned. But he’d been specifically instructed to take her guest somewhere she could not find him. To not return until the Yulvenir messenger was gone.
Ilana did not react, not visibly, the threatening atmosphere about her had not shifted or changed. “The Weaver commanded you to bring him here. Today.”
“And that is why I sought to inform you. As a priestess of the Weaver, I take it you might be able to aid in finding him.” Aisha kept her tone serious, her chin raised. “My resources are currently spread thin.” Many of them having been sent off to do menial work. “I will lend any aid I can spare.”
All she needed to do was to send the holy woman into a wild pig’s chase, to make finding Liam not worth the High Priestess’ time. Once the demons were killed and the Goddess’ attention turned to other threats, the elf would inevitably be called up and sent away on some other actually important mission. The task of finding and handling Liam would be dispensed down the management tree to any of the local priests of the Weaver. Bounties would be set up, divinations would be paid for, and by the time things started to die down, Aisha would’ve greased every palm from here to the Emir’s palace to guarantee the matter was buried and forgotten.
Who would care for a lone mortal?
“You grew in Al-Zahra, did you not?” The woman picked up a black block of wood that’d been laying on Aisha’s desk next to a cup of tea. Her brows furrowed as she twisted it in her grasp, fingers caressing the wood as if in search of a seam, but finding no way to open it. “What is this?”
Aisha vaguely remembered having received it the previous night, but she did not know why someone would have sent her a block of black wood. “It is a paperweight.” She wagered, if only in hopes of getting rid of this uninvited guest as promptly as possible.
Ilana observed the thing for a bit longer before dismissing the thing and placing it back on the table. “The al-Hakim household had a minor influence in the court a few centuries ago, if I remember correctly.”
“That is… correct.” Aisha nodded curtly. The study was a dozen meters long, and yet she felt as if she were standing in front of her own desk.
“Then you should know of the golden maxim within the Sultan’s court?” She dropped the block, rolling it on the desk like a die. “Thou shalt not utter falsehood, lest your tongue be cut off.”
A shiver traveled up Aisha’s spine. “I do remember that, yes.”
“And yet the court is exactly where one would go to if one sought to be tricked and beguiled. Trust too much and someone will plant their dagger on your back… so to speak.” She flashed a smile full of pristine teeth, one that didn’t reach her eyes. Slowly, carefully, as if reaching for a sword, Ilana pulled out two dice, placing them on the table. Then she pulled out the divine coin and put it next to them. “I always found it better to put my trust in fate.”
Aisha’s mind swept through the conversation she’d had with Liam, of the three kinds of fate. Her gaze flickered at the dice, and she wondered whether this was, in some way, how the priests of the Weaver harnessed its power. “Very well, then let me test it for you.”
Ilana looked mildly surprised as Aisha approached, amusement followed as she leaned away from the desk, signaling for her to take them. “It matters not who rolls the dice. The result will be the same.”
“I disagree.” Snatching the two dice in her hand, she looked at the two dice from the table. They were indeed made of bone, devoid of any signs of mana, and none of her own enchanted rings gave warnings of poisonous substances. “We make our own fate.”
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With a flick of her wrist, she threw them into her mouth and swallowed.
The High Priestess’ expression twisted into a look of despondent rage, while the Amil quietly gloated with a smirk. Aisha turned to leave, marching with all the dignity her station afforded her. “If you do not seek to aid in finding Liam, then I will do so myself.”
Pushing the doors open and stepping outside, she wondered whether the High Priestess would depart on her own or if she’d need to kick her out of her home. Whatever the problem might be, she’d-
Screams broke her train of thought. Aisha’s personal guards had swarmed the gates. Voices were being raised, though clearly no swords had been drawn just yet.
“Make way!” A voice called, demanding entry. “This is official business!”
“The Amil has not-”
“The Amil is here.” Aisha raised her voice, addressing the crowd as she approached, watching as the guards parted to allow her a better view of the situation.
There, right in front of the entrance, were a group of temple knights, each of them sporting the emblem of the Weaver.
They were holding two people in chains, both battered and bruised.
Grauch.
And Liam.
“It appears you have found him.” Ilana’s voice smoothly whispered with poisoned words.
Aisha’s hands tightened into fists, teeth clenched tightly. Her gaze swept over her guards, armed with only bare weapons and leather armor. Meanwhile, the knights wore metal armor and were decked for battle. The knights were outnumbered two to one, but the odds were not in Aisha’s favor either.
“Ilana?” Liam stared at the High Priestess in surprise, one eye too swollen to see through. “What… why are you here? HOW are you here!?”
“I’m here for you, corrupter.” The elf hissed through her teeth. “Did you think a demon like you would escape the Weaver’s grasp?”
Demon?
Aisha’s eyes widened, turning to meet Liam’s.
And a horrible sense of dread began to grow from deep within her chest.
----------------------------------------
For Liam, things had started with an odd looming feeling overhead. The nice breakfast was tempered by the absence of both Aisha and Imani. He would have understood the Amil, she was a busy woman, but the leonid too? Alarm had begun to ring out before Grauch explained the mercenary had left him a message promising her return today. It just so happened that the draxani couldn’t deliver it yesterday because Liam got back so late.
After the meal and a bath, Grauch explained he had some tasks to fulfill in one of the family-owned farms of the Amil, and invited him to tag along. Seeing nothing better to do, Liam agreed.
They were intercepted at the gates leading to the southern edge by knights wearing the insignias of the temple of the Weaver. His attempt to make a run for it failed, and his shouts for Bunny went unanswered. Grauch had tried to help, but the servant was no fighter, and he wasn’t exactly in his prime either.
Now this.
Kneeling at the entrance of Aisha’s estate, staring up at High Priestess Ilana, the bitch having apparently crossed half the Caliphate empire just to get here. This reeked of Thalgrim, and the fact that neither Wolf nor Bunny were answering his calls sealed the deal. At this point, he wasn’t sure whether help would come at all.
“You… can’t be a demon.” Aisha’s voice came out in a whisper, eyes wide, face pale, staring at him with a mix of confusion, concern, and betrayal.
Somehow, that hurt more than his currently swelling eye.
“If I were one, you think I would’ve been caught?” He answered, making a gesture at the knight currently pressing his knees against the ground. “Tin can over here is good, but not demon-busting good.”
“Yes, you’re a different breed of demon, you do not possess physical powers, I can attest to that.” High Priestess Ilana snarled, gesturing at them to bring him in. “You change those you touch, you tear at the weave of fate! A foul thing in every way.”
Liam scowled. “That’s not how demons work, they’re-”
“SILENCE!”
The backhand carried a concerning amount of strength behind it. His head whirled as his eyes lost focus, only regaining it when he realized he was lying on the ground. A brief panic ran through him as he felt the divine dagger slipping from his grasp, he clenched it tightly, making sure it remained active, erasing itself from the mind of any who looked at it. At this point, it was his only hope of getting out of this, because they’d stripped him of the divine rope during their pat-down.
The problem was that he wasn’t sure how to get out of this mess.
“Every word you speak spreads your corruption.” Ilana snarled, face twisted in fury. “Bring him in, Amil, or be dragged at his side.”
Aisha stared at him, hesitation clear in her face.
“Don’t meddle,” Liam spoke, words slurring slightly, staring up at her firmly.
The priestess glared. “Do you think-”
“Thalgrim is a bitch.” He spat.
“DON’T SULLY HER NAME!”
This time she punched, and the punch was hard. His ears were ringing, barely able to register as he was dragged forward. The sole thing he could keep focused on was the knife he gripped with every shred of concentration he had to offer. It was hard to properly assess who was doing the dragging, and whether something else was happening, but he could at least tell when he was brought indoors.
Out of all the High Priests in all of the Caliphate, he’d never envisioned Ilana being this much of a zealot. She was skilled and shrewd, certainly, but it had been that very same pragmatism that’d made her a “boring” moderate amongst the ranks of the devout. There were only a handful of things she cared about other than her own career and validation from the Goddess.
And yet, the part his thoughts kept bouncing back to were her words about tearing fate.
Maridah had told him he weakened and changed fate, both of those he could understand. He was an outside force, a new paradigm within the world, but at a scope that had never been present before. He might be mortal, but as far as fate was concerned, he might as well have been The Oracle. Future knowledge would always screw things over, it was why Thalgrim’s predictions were weakest when she was getting involved with something, and it wasn’t like he was being discreet about it either.
But to tear fate apart entirely? Just trying to fathom the deeper implications were giving him a headache. What he did know was that either Maridah had not noticed to what point did his “disruption” reach, or she’d intentionally downplayed it.
The soldiers threw him forward, and with no legs to stand on, he hit the floor like a sack of potatoes. The doors slammed shut behind him, and he imagined there was now silence, though the ringing in his ears had yet to go away.
Aisha was in the room… it was her study. Ilana was here too.
No Grauch.
Liam wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.
Thalgrim wasn’t one for gratuitous murder, she didn’t care if a mortal bit the dust, she only ever coordinated someone’s demise if there was something to be gained from it. But the High Priestess was clearly unstable, there was no telling what she’d cooked up aside from the Goddess’ plans.
A thud made the room shudder.
All three of them exchanged looks, this was clearly not in Ilana’s plan.
“I think that might be my friend.” Liam commented through swollen lips, pressing the edge of the knife against the rope tying his wrists together. Damn, this was annoying. “Not a good time for you if you stick around.”
The High Priestess merely reached into her pocket and pulled out a coin. A beautifully decorated silver coin, with gemstone engravings. “Fate gave me all the tools I need.” She flipped it with a metal “ding”, and in that moment Liam recognized the divine tool for what it was.
The Studious Coin.
An item made to trap and kill the God of Knowledge of the previous Age during Thalgrim’s uprising to take the Triumvirate Throne. The coin sealed the deity within their infinite library alongside the Warrior, using concepts of the deity’s powers against it.
Upon flicking it, the nearest room containing written words would become sealed from the rest of the world. The duration of the lock would be a second for every hundred words within that room, with neither gods, monsters, nor mortals being able to pierce through until the spell collapsed. It was as perfect a seal as one could hope for, absolutely nothing could get into the contained space or out of it.
The divine tool was older than human civilization back in Liam’s world, and unless he’d missed something, should’ve only had three uses left at this point in time.
Liam wasn’t concerned about how long he might stay here, Aisha’s personal work-library was impressive, but it wouldn’t keep them trapped for more than maybe twelve hours at the most. He wasn’t even worried this meant rescue wasn’t coming, he’d accepted he was screwed from the moment Bunny had not answered his shouts.
What worried him was that Aisha was here too.
If his mere presence destroyed fate, then the sealed room seemed like one of the “cheapest” options Thalgrim had to kill him with minimal repercussions.
But it could only work if there were no survivors.