In a vast and opulent hall, a dazzling crystal-like chandelier hung high in the vaulted ceiling, its facets catching and refracting the light in a mesmerizing display. The enormous table that dominated the room was adorned with the most exquisite foods available, a veritable feast for both the eyes and the palate. Fine china, gleaming silverware, and delicate crystal glasses were artfully arranged, waiting for the impending negotiations to begin.
Leora, exuding an air of quiet confidence, took her place at the table with measured grace. Her demeanor was one of calm authority, belying the tension that hung in the air. Cyrus, ever vigilant, positioned himself behind her chair, his posture alert as he faced Marko and Prid across the expanse of the richly appointed table. The hall was eerily quiet, the silence broken only by the soft rustling of fabric as the occupants settled into their places.
As they waited, a maid servant approached Leora with hesitant steps. Her voice was barely above a whisper as she offered to free the lady from her constraints, but Leora simply waved her off with a subtle gesture. The maid retreated, leaving the tense atmosphere undisturbed.
It was Marko who finally shattered the oppressive silence, his voice carrying a hint of amusement tinged with underlying hostility. Leaning back in his ornate chair, he remarked, "It's pretty inconvenient to keep your umbrella at the table." His eyes flicked to the peculiar accessory that Leora refused to relinquish.
Leora's response was cool and direct, her gaze unwavering as she met Marko's eyes. "I'm not here to enjoy a meal," she stated flatly. Without missing a beat, she continued, "The price is, as always, ten percent of all the gains." Her tone brooked no argument, yet the slight narrowing of her eyes suggested she anticipated resistance.
Marko's demeanor shifted, his earlier amusement giving way to a more serious expression. He crossed his arms, his body language conveying his dissatisfaction with the proposed terms. "You should know that it's worth more than that," he countered, a challenge evident in his voice.
The air between them crackled with unspoken tension as Leora considered her response. After a moment, she offered, "Twelve percent." Her voice remained steady, revealing nothing of her inner thoughts.
Marko's reaction was swift and dramatic. He stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the polished floor. "If you're here to insult me, then I will leave," he declared, his tone laced with indignation.
Leora, seemingly unfazed by his display, raised the stakes once more. "Twenty percent. Take it, or we will find someone else," she said, her voice carrying a note of finality.
A smirk played across Marko's lips as he clapped his hands sharply. The sound echoed through the hall, and suddenly, the peaceful atmosphere was shattered. A group of individuals, dressed in the unmistakable attire of bodyguards, burst into the room. Their weapons were at the ready, a palpable aura of magic seeping from them as they prepared for potential conflict.
"Leave?" Marko's smirk widened as he surveyed the scene before him. With a casual wave of his hand, he directed the guards to advance. Their weapons hummed with barely contained magical energy, poised to unleash chaos at a moment's notice.
Despite the escalating situation, Leora remained remarkably composed. She leaned back in her chair, her posture relaxed as if the armed men surrounding them posed no threat whatsoever. Her voice was calm and measured as she stated, "If I want to leave, none of you will be able to stop me."
Marko's response was chilling. With another wave of his hand, he directed the guards' attention to Cyrus. "Might be, but what about your partner?" he said, his smirk now a full-fledged grin of malicious intent.
Cyrus felt his heart rate spike dramatically as the reality of the situation sank in. His eyes darted to Leora, searching for any sign of concern or reassurance, but her face remained an impassive mask. A creeping doubt began to gnaw at him – would she really sacrifice him so callously? His mind raced, desperately seeking a solution as sweat began to bead on his forehead.
Just as the tension reached a fever pitch, a new voice cut through the chaos like a knife. "We aren't going to fight each other now, are we?" The words hung in the air, momentarily freezing everyone in place.
Cyrus's eyes widened in recognition. "Mariline!" he exclaimed, a mixture of relief and surprise coloring his voice.
Mariline's lips curved into a warm smile as her gaze met Cyrus's. "Oh, we meet again," she said, her voice carrying a hint of playfulness. This time, Cyrus held her gaze, refusing to look away as he had in their previous encounter. He watched as surprise flickered across her features, her eyes traveling from his face down to his feet and back again, taking in every detail.
As Mariline approached, her gown seemed to flow around her, accentuating her graceful movements. The soft click of her high heels on the polished floor punctuated each step. Cyrus found himself rendered speechless as she came to a stop just a few paces away from him.
Marko's voice, tinged with suspicion, broke the moment. "You know the inspector?" he asked, his eyes narrowing as he glanced between Cyrus and Mariline.
Mariline's response was accompanied by a conspiratorial wink directed at Cyrus. "Yes, we are very close," she said, her tone leaving the exact nature of their relationship open to interpretation. Cyrus, caught off guard by her statement and the intensity of her gaze, could only manage an awkward smile in response.
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Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Cyrus found his voice at last. "Yeah, 22%. That's the best we can give you," he said, surprising even himself with his boldness. He could feel the weight of Leora's gaze upon him, her aura seeming to wash over him like a tangible force, but he stood his ground, refusing to back down.
The atmosphere in the room shifted palpably as Marko's demeanor changed once more. A broad smile spread across his face as he reached for his glass of wine. "Deal," he said, raising the glass in a toast. "It's such a great thing to do business with you." At his words, the guards began to retreat, the immediate threat dissipating as quickly as it had appeared.
With the negotiations concluded, Marko's tone became almost jovial. "Follow me, let's visit the mines," he said, gesturing towards the door. The group began to move, filing out of the opulent hall and into the corridors of the building.
Their journey took them to a lift, its ancient mechanisms groaning under their weight. As they descended, the chains creaked ominously, filling the air with sharp, deafening sounds that set everyone's nerves on edge. The deeper they went, the more the atmosphere changed. The ground beneath their feet became rocky and uneven, while the air grew dense and heavy, pressing in on them from all sides.
Cyrus found himself walking ahead with Mariline, the others following behind at a slight distance. A magical light bubble bobbed along in front of them, illuminating their path through the darkness. As they walked, Cyrus's mind whirled with questions.
"What were they even dueling for to begin with?" he asked, unable to keep the dejection from his voice. The realization that he had nearly died for something he knew nothing about weighed heavily on him.
Mariline's laughter, light and melodious, rang out in response. "You're really something," she said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Cyrus could only smile awkwardly in return, his mind racing as he wondered what she thought of him. Their last meeting hadn't exactly showcased him at his best – did she think him a coward now?
Before he could dwell too long on these thoughts, Mariline's voice drew him back to the present. "It's a mine," she explained, "a Karmic ore mine. As an inspector, I need to verify if it's worthy of sending miners within." Her face lit up with excitement as she continued, "Come, let me show you!"
Without warning, she took hold of his arm, pulling him forward at an accelerated pace. Cyrus's heart began to race, and not just from the sudden burst of speed. This was her – the girl for whom he had started jogging, the one he had never dared to approach. Could it be that the heavens were finally acknowledging his efforts?
As they reached a cave wall, something extraordinary happened. The solid rock began to morph and shift, a spinning portal growing out of seemingly nowhere. As the portal stabilized, figures began to emerge from its swirling depths. Each wore a mechanical backpack that hummed with energy, and on their forearms were massive mechanical hands, clearly designed for heavy lifting.
The space beyond the portal was tight and claustrophobic. The miners moved slowly but efficiently, carrying gigantic blocks of black ore above their heads. Cyrus watched with a mixture of awe and fear, his mind reeling at the thought of what might happen if one of those mechanical arms were to fail.
As he observed the grueling work before him, a sobering thought struck Cyrus. Was this what they had endured for all those years? He felt his chest tighten, his gaze dropping to the ground as the full weight of the realization settled upon him.
Mariline's voice, soft and understanding, broke through his thoughts. "It's very hard in the mines, but for some, it is better than being prosecuted here."
Cyrus's mind raced with possibilities. "Can we enter the mines from here?" he asked, his voice tinged with hope. If he could somehow access the mine from this point, perhaps he could find his father, maybe even help him escape. They could seek refuge with the bites. His eyes shone with anticipation as he awaited Mariline's response.
Her answer, however, dashed his nascent hopes. "I know what you're thinking about, but it's impossible," she said gently. "The separate domain is an independent space. It links to all other domains in Arkania, but in a one-way motion. We might be able to discover mines from here, but we can't enter them from this place."
Cyrus's smile was tinged with bitterness as he replied, "Good indeed for business." The reality of the situation settled over him like a heavy blanket. It had been too easy, too good to be true. But this setback only strengthened his resolve. Now that he knew what the mines looked like, he would redouble his efforts. No matter what the queen asked of him, he would do it, all for the chance to free his father. He was prepared to sell his soul to the devil if that's what it took.
Their exploration concluded, the group made their way back to the surface. By the time they emerged, night had fallen. Cyrus found himself alone on a balcony, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. Above, water hung suspended in the sky, slowly spinning around the building. The light of the moon blended with the ethereal blue-white hue, creating a mesmerizing display of natural beauty.
Despite the breathtaking scene before him, Cyrus was too lost in thought to truly appreciate its majesty. An idea had taken root in his mind, and he voiced it aloud, more to himself than to anyone else. "What if we could replace the miners with mannequins like Bob, and then control them with magic from a distance?"
Leora's voice, unexpected in the quiet night, startled him from his reverie. "It would require an unimaginable amount of magic in a constant flow. It is not feasible," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. Cyrus turned to look at her, struck by her otherworldly appearance. In the moonlight, her golden hair cascaded down like a waterfall of liquid gold. Standing beneath her ever-present umbrella, she seemed to belong to a realm beyond the mortal world.
Cyrus's grip on the balcony railing tightened as he considered her words. "But think of it – if it was possible, we would save so many people," he insisted, his voice filled with a mixture of hope and frustration. After a moment, he sighed heavily. "I don't think I'm cut out for such ambitious projects."
Leora's next words came as a surprise, her usual detached demeanor giving way to something more personal. "I always dreamed of swimming with my father," she said, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon. "Unfortunately, I never learned to swim and felt unprepared. After a few months of training, just as we decided to move forward with the plan, he was killed." She paused, allowing the weight of her words to settle before continuing. "You might not feel ready, but I have seen what you did with Project T. Maybe for you, it will be different."
Cyrus turned to look at the figure standing beside him, seeing her in a new light. Without warning, driven by an impulse he couldn't quite explain, he took her in his arms. He felt her body tense, frozen in place by the unexpected embrace. "Thank you," he said softly, his voice filled with genuine gratitude.