Gavin was on edge. He stood near the water on a dock in the wee hours of the morning, nerves straining against his contrary certainty that something was going to go wrong. A man in an expensive but untailored suit smoking a cigarette stood next to him, chatting about what Gavin needed to know about the Fieravanti Family. "-why I'm nominally one of Marco's people. While neutrality is nice to hold on to, he and his younger sister are night and day compared to what some of their siblings get up too, and there's no way I'm going to get wrapped up in that."
They shivered theatrically, not seeming to feel the biting chill of the early morning November air that was already making Gavin's nose a bit stuffy as their eyes continued to scan the city and waters around them. He glanced down at his watch. "Terrible business what the second heir and their group's doing. It's just not right. Goes against everything we stand for."
"And what's that?"
"Order," he said with the certain, practiced cadence of someone who given this speech in their head many times before, "and the proper way of things. It's why we thrive where so many other organizations fail. Order put the Fieravanti family on top, and it's kept us safe from the target being number 1 put on our back. At the end of the day it's order that ensures shipments move in and out on time whether it's chems, ingredients or flesh. Schedules, rules, laws, policies. That's what keeps us going. You know Lord of the Rings?"
Gavin kept his face carefully controlled at the mention of trading 'flesh,' leaning on fragments of Ser's memories and ability to remain unfazed to mask his revulsion. His eyes wandered to some of the boxes tucked away beneath tarps and secured with ropes. "No, but I watched some of the movies."
"Well in the first movie of the good trilogy, Fellowship of the Ring, there's a line about the dwarves digging too greedily. That's what the other heirs are doing. Squeezing everybody's balls in a bid for a bigger slice of the pie."
"Does that worry you?"
"Eh, not as much as it might. I'm in a good spot. Important, but not important enough to get attention as long as I don't mess things up and my skills aren't so easy to replace. Just the right spot to be in. You stay with us long enough with a Spiritbind like that and you could get a spot like mine in no time if you stayed discreet, or climb higher if you don't mind living with a target on your back. Want one?" the man asked, hand extended with an unlit cigarette between his fingers.
"No thanks." Gavin's eyes continued their meandering trek across the scenery. Nerves left his stomach a boiling wreck, and without Ser's memories of handling more intense situations he suspected he'd be doing a lot worse. The strangest thing was he knew things were going to be silent tonight. Adrian had even assured him that nobody from the DSA would be interfering with tonights operation.
"Too obvious," he'd said earlier with more of his casual, cocky confidence, "Staging a bust by our people would overplay our hand. Especially because we'd have to throw the fight to let you win. No, they Fieravanti's want your recruitment to fly under the radar, so that's what we're going to give them." How much of Adrian's confidence came from the fact he wasn't going undercover and was instead already on a trip of his own to Italy on a chartered jet to rejoin with Gavin and the rest of his team was unclear, but it couldn't have been a small amount.
They'd meet up a couple days after he got settled in to share information, assuming everything went right. "Remember," he'd warned Gavin before they left, "None of them are your friends. They may act friendly but that is not the same thing, and be especially cautious of the nobody's. They've got everything to gain and little to lose. " Gavin's fingers twitched towards the communicator in his pocket.
"Got nerves, kid?"
"Yeah." Gavin listened closely to the sounds of the dock. The faint sounds of the city were swallowed by the dull wash of waves and wind, which were in turn eclipsed by the faint crackle of burning leaves followed by deep exhales. Each breath cast dark gray smoke into the air. The same two sounds looped quietly and steadily, audible only in their small pocket of silence without anyone else there to interrupt. Gavin looked out over the dark waters of the bay, watching thin scraps of moonlight from a thin waxing moon in a cloudless sky reflect peacefully off the uneven surface.
"It's probably a lot for you to handle, huh? You don't look like the type to get involved in this line of work."
"I didn't have much of a choice."
The man nodded at that, leaning out a little farther over the railing as he peered off into the distance. His right hand lolled out casually as he tapped the back of his wrist against the railing, scattering ashes across the water like filthy fairy dust. "Few do. Life's shit like that sometimes," his hand went into his collar and withdrew a rosary that he clutched in a palm as he lifted the cigarette back to his mouth. "Thompson scouted you for us, right?"
That was the name of the plant the DSA had in the Fieravanti family's operations here. "Yeah, why?"
"She's always been good at finding people in need of options. I'm guessing you got involved in that incident the other day? The Void monster near the college?" Gavin made a vague noise of agreement. "Sounds about right. Sarah's got a sixth sense for cases like yours, always makes a fresh offer to people who don't have many other options. Don't know if she told you this, but she got caught up with us when one of her friends got on the wrong side of the DSA."
"She didn't tell me that. She just gave me the offer."
"Yeah, well, one of her friends was a dhampir of some notable lineage. Human mother got knocked up by some vampire lord or other in eastern europe on holiday. The friend got hungry one day, put someone in the hospital, and DSA told her friend to either join or die. Sarah tried to hide her from them and that wasn't looked to kindly on by the powers that be. Now she works with us." He took another heavy drag on his cigarette. We both watched as the smoke got carried away over his shoulder by a gentle salty breeze.
"How often does that kind of thing happen?"
"Not infrequently. You'll learn the DSA steps on everyone's toes. It's basically their job description. They're supposedly all about 'protecting the world against all supernatural threats.' Practically? That means doing whatever they can to take more power, and anyone who gets in their way gets made into history. Stories like Sarah's aren't nearly as uncommon as they'd like everyone else to think."
That was rather different from what he'd been told by Adrian. "The DSA is all about protecting the world from external threats. Extraterrestrial, extradimensional, or just plain old native supernaturals," he'd said proudly. And, to be fair, a mafia smuggler was far from an unbiased source for a second opinion. Adrian had really sounded like he believed in the cause.
Problem was, despite knowing that Sarah Thompson's story was likely fabricated it painted an unpleasant picture. After all, for it to be an effective cover story for her and now him it had to be believable. And the implications of that...
He realized they'd both been silent for a while as he thought, but not as long as it would've been a few days ago. His thoughts really were moving that little bit faster, like the world was being played at 0.9x speed.
Ser's memories told him to expect this. Upon awakening as the Aether flowing through people's bodies ended up handing people so minor upgrades all around, especially so for people with stronger awakenings. The only abnormality, according to Adrian, was how fast Gavin was adapting to his sudden awakening. "Normally, when people awaken they struggle a bit with the differences, like how people who get massive growth spurts hit their heads on cabinets for a while. But you're walking around just fine. My bet's it got something to do with the guy in your head."
Gavin figured he should pick back up the conversation before the silence tipped from peaceful into awkward. "How often do you recruit people like me?"
"Rarely, if ever. I run cargo routes which means I don't get involved moving new personnel unless there's boatloads of people being shipped. Most often new recruits work in the area they were recruited in anyways, so it just never comes up."
He glanced at Gavin, amusedly. "You're only getting special treatment like this cause the heirs are trying to avoid you getting poached for your Spiritbind, and we happened to be going this way," he smirked like he was making joke with a private punchline, "Besides. Let's just say most of the 'recruits' that come on smuggling ships aren't exactly willing.."
Fuck if it wasn't easy for Gavin to forget who and what he was dealing with. Carlos was shockingly easy to talk to. Their conversation flowed like they were old friends. Carlos dressed well, spoke with a typical Italian accent, and between his easy demeanor and smoking habit Gavin had been thinking about him more like a character in a Mafia movie than a career criminal.
Gavin's eyes roved over the boxes once again, stopping on the ones that had fragile printed onto the wood and labels; noting the ones that had breathing holes or tarps thrown over them. He didn't extend his senses into them to check their contents. He didn't want to know. His fingers itched for the haft of his spear. Tensed around air.
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Carlos lifted his watch close to his face and squinted down at it, the silver and white face turned orange by the faint light from the end of his cigarette. "They'll be here soon. Just stay out of the way as we pack things up and we'll be setting off in a few minutes, tops."
Gavin scanned their surroundings, trying to pick out where his transportation would come from. They were waiting by the water, so it was presumably some kind of maritime vessel. He strained his senses downwards into the water below searching for a submarine, looking for the only thing that made sense. The man next to him chuckled as he disposed of his cigarette in a burst of blue flame. "Those are some good instincts kid."
A submarine as dark as tar breached the surface of the water, a thick hatch popping open to reveal an platform on an entrance wide enough for several people to skydive through hand in hand. A small group of patsies in a mix of dark polos, jeans, and t-shirts rushed attached ladders onto a gangway they extended from the lip before fanning out to collect the boxes stacked on the dock. Each time one of them grabbed a crate there was a faint hiss-thunk and a tiny burst of light from small black metal devices running down from their sleeves onto their wrists.
Gavin's companion noticed where he was looking and smiled proudly. "Nifty, aren't they. Works wonders and saves us from paying for higher quality help. One of the best investments I ever made, though hiring out a decent enchanter for the custom order was a bitch."
"What are they?" Gavin asked. He recognized the enchantment's elemental affinity as a matter of course, picking up on the familiar distortions in the Aether around them that signaled their effect as something to do with gravity and mass. "Antigravity of some kind?"
"That would be more expensive than I need for something like this. The term the enchanter used was 'mass-doping inertial dampeners,' but they basically just make whatever you're lifting act like it had less mass. Way cheaper than using proper mages for transport." They stepped onto a circular platform that clicked into place on the top and Gavin copied before it ferried them deeper into the ship at high speed.
"Won't they need this to move the cargo into the ship?"
"We have a couple hatches for cargo so using the one for a moment won't slow us down. Also, I need to get down to navigation quickly so we can stay on schedule. Order, remember?
"Yeah. Order." His stomach curdled as he watched several crates descend, seeing one of them vibrating and shaking slightly, like something inside it was moving. "Order is good."
The man slapped him on the back. "Good man."
Gavin couldn't help but ask. "What's in those crates?"
"Well I can't be too specific, you understand, but in general? Some restricted trade goods, some weapons, drugs, some exotic animals, the like."
"People?"
"Nah, not on my ship. It's a dangerous business. The flesh trade makes enemies fast, and then you have to worry about the risk of breakouts and transport and the like. It's part of why I've thrown my lot in with heirs Marco and Alessia. They know better than to go around doing starting things they can't finish.
He felt a little better about that, and a small piece of the disgust and anger mixing in his stomach relaxed and turned back into regular old stomach acid instead of the deadly concoction of emotional angst it had been for a while now. He wasn't working directly with human traffickers. Kind of. "But it still happens."
"It happens everywhere. Hell, the mundane world's got more slaves by the numbers than at any other point in human history. The magical world is at least actually down in both total and relative population of slaves. Nowadays most people use indentured servants. Much less messy when magic gets involved. Less... desperation."
"Messy?"
"Read up on the Starkwald Castle Massacre when you get the chance. A dragonkin named Scyldra awoke some ancestral necromantic magic after a nasty beating, and now you can't even visit the place without protective equipment," he laughed like that was some kind of joke. It wasn't funny. "Anyways, here's your room. We'll be in Italy in 20 or so hours depending on the currents, so sit tight and try and get some rest. It should be early morning when we get there so you'll want the energy."
The room Gavin was given was cramped, with just enough room for a cot, bolted down integrated desk/shelf combo, chair and a few other small pieces of hotel furniture. Carlos reached in past the fake wooden door and flicked on the dim lights in what was roughly a windowless cell. The small aesthetic pieces of decoration and furniture scattered around did little to soften the hostile edges of the metal box that had obviously been built by engineers without a hint of input on the livability of the space.
Gavin didn't have any possessions to put down in the room as he hadn't been able to go back to his dorm due to his current legal status. He didn't even have his phone to distract himself, as that had been taken at some point after his death and hadn't been returned. Standing there awkwardly, he looked around for something to do.
"There's no TV in here, but there's a recreational lounge and a bathroom down the hall if you need them, and a handful of books in the corner over there if that's more your thing. Other than that, just make sure to lock the door behind you, you don't want anyone sneaking into your room."
"Is that a problem you have often?"
"It's a problem for you," Carlos emphasized, "There's a good chance a couple people on the ship will be stupid enough to try to kill you in the hopes of getting that Spiritbind of yours," he didn't seem particularly torn up over the possibility, shrugging as he left the room, "I'll warn them not to, but there's not much else I can do about it. Try and get some rest. Just keep one eye open as you sleep, yeah? Or at least be good enough to leave your spear behind if you die, explaining your death to the heirs would be annoying."
Gavin heard his retreating footsteps echoing faintly off the thin vinyl outside through the metal of the door and walls. He was exhausted, the wrung out product of a day and a half of rapid adjustment. Looking back on what he'd gone through in this short time was shocking to him.
He'd 'died' roughly 36 hours ago and had stumbled into a new world that currently felt like it was clubbing him over the head with a brick in the hopes of rendering him unconsciousness. He'd managed find his way into a undercover operation to support the heirs of a crime family in their takeover and he still wasn't completely clear on how he would be doing that.
He flopped back onto the surprisingly pleasant cot (though he guessed now that would be far less true in a few hours when he woke up on it) and immediately felt sleep stick out grabby fingers questing for his consciousness. Groaning, he stood back up and went to the door to leave. Sleeping now would end up messing with his sleep schedule for when he arrived, so he might as well try that lounge and try to kill a few more hours before he collapsed.
The recreational lounge was nice. Not quite as cramped as everything else he'd seen so far, there was enough space for a few pleather chairs and tables with cards and small board games locked into cabinets. There was even a single foosball table in the corner where a two guys were playing, spinning the handles as fast as they could next to a treadmill and an exercise bike.
Most of the ten or so people in the room were clustered around the biggest table in the center hovering over papers and a drawn on tiled board with little plastic mini figures on it. One guy sitting behind a divider looked down at something behind the screen, and Gavin heard the sound of a die being rolled. The man behind the screen looked up to the guy sitting closest to Gavin. "Uh- what's your AC again?"
"Nineteen"
"Alright. The guard swings his mace and you take ten bludgeoning damage."
The blonde man gave a decent impression of a winded cough before turning to the others. "Be cautious friends, they strike hard!" He leaned back in his chair, fixing his posture and stretching his shoulders before noticing Gavin standing awkwardly in the entrance. He kicked back up immediately and greeted him, welcoming him to the group. "Hey! Gavin, right? You're the new recruit Carlos was telling me about. Come on over and sit with us. I'm Lucas, by the way."
He pulled over a chair to sit next to him that Gavin took after shaking his hand. "Yeah that's me. Nice to meet you Lucas."
One of the other men was curious, clearly unable to hold back his question. "You know, you've got us all wondering how you ended up joining the Family. Rumor has it you've got a Spiritbind, and here you are slumming it with the criminals. There has to be a hell of a story there."
Gavin snorted, "I wish there was. Someone from the DSA was an idiot and got both of us killed. My heart stopped for a while, causing the EMT's to pronounce me dead and when I awakened I had a Spiritbind heirloom. But with the awakening marks around and my legal status..."
Lucas sucked in a breath. "That'd do it. You'll find yourself in good company here, if that helps." Gavin rubbed his eyes, suppressing a yawn and earning himself a sympathetic nod. "Tired?"
"It's been a long day and a half, but if I sleep now I'll feel like shit when we get there."
"Amen to that," he laughed, "You get good at handling the travel-lag eventually, but it always takes some doing. I'll do what I can to help keep you up. No coffee though, or you won't be able to fall asleep in a couple hours when you need to."
"Thanks," said Gavin as he slumped in his chair and sinking into the baggy cushions.
"No, none of that," Lucas corrected, reaching out to grab Gavin's shoulder and pull him up, "Fix your posture. Sitting like that will make you feel tired and shitty faster. Sit up straight, take deep breaths, keep your eyes engaged and open, and if you catch yourself really starting to fall asleep take a sudden sharp breath and open your eyes wide. It'll kick your brain into gear for long enough to stay awake."
Gavin obliged, shifting in his seat and immediately noticed a difference. The grogginess that was spreading across him trying to steal him away into dreamland encroached a little slower. "Huh. Thanks."
"Ah don't worry about it. Just don't forget the little guy when you become a big shot in the Family, alright? Too many people forget what it's like to be small."
"I can-" Gavin yawned, "I can do that."
"Good," Lucas said before refocusing his attention on the guy sitting behind the screen, "Sorry, I didn't mean to derail us."
"It's all good," they said with an amused tilt to his expression before extending a hand to Gavin over the screen, "I'm Lars by the way. And Lucas, hold off on adopting the guy as a friend. I don't think we can fit another person at our table. We're already at six and it's making the fights a bitch to balance."
"No promises," he laughed, then leaned in closer to Gavin, stage-whispering conspiratorially "He's a great dungeon master, everyone on the ship who plays wants him to run a campaign for them." He got a little bit louder, "He could handle a party of seven."
"But I won't."
"Spoilsport." Lucas slung an arm around Gavin's shoulder, tugging him a little closer and slid over some of his papers between them. "Pay attention and I'll teach you while we play."
Lars rolled his eyes, "It's your turn in the initiative order."
"Relax, I'm trying to make a friend here!"
"That's what I'm trying to avoid."
"Ignore him Gavin, he's just bitter."
Lars tossed his hands up, "You're goddamn right I am. You pulled me into DM'ing and keep dumping more players on my lap. We started with three of you!"
"And you'll end with many more," Lucas replied smugly.
Lars groaned. "Just fucking play already."