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CH52

Elma didn’t flinch when Steapa slammed his fist in anger. She kept her composure when Brunhild tried to blame her for the predicament they were all in. The mere notion that she knew anything about Brand's desertion was ridiculous. But what Brunhild said next cut deeper than any words before.

“You expect me to believe he wouldn’t tell his girlfriend about this.”

“I'm not his fucking girlfriend!" Elma admonished a bit too loudly. She covered her tear-filled eyes as a terrible embarrassment came over her. “I thought I was, but he left me without saying anything.”

What Elma couldn't admit was that Brand probably never thought they were in a relationship. She was most likely just someone to warm his bed who was conveniently close by. There was no love in his actions. No modicum of care or compassion when they were together. But after years of pretending to not want him as to not gain the ire of the other orphans and then being rejected right before he left for the Hall Elma couldn’t help but think she was at fault.

“It's almost funny. I'm a striker, a killer, but I let a man hurt me like this. And he still left me without saying a word.”

“Do you at least have any idea of what he's planning?” Steapa asked.

“He obviously wants to kill Ragnar,” Brunhild said.

Elma shook her head, not agreeing with the assessment. “That's probably the one thing he won't do. Whatever his real plan is he'd only tell Uhtred. Maybe Astrid if she cared to listen.”

Brunhild seemed to deflate knowing there was no hope of finding the missing half of her squad. “If Makarov, Rollo, anyone wants Uhtred for shadow travel.” Brunhild’s eyes suddenly widened while her muscles tensed up as the oath flooded her body with pain. It was obvious she’d been thinking of keeping the desertion a secret and was punished for it.

“So, the oath still works I see.”

Elma’s mind cleared as she heard a voice come from above. She moved as if in a trance pulling a large dagger free while shielding herself. The voice only laughed in response before revealing itself as a woman in black form-fitting clothing. Now that Elma could see the intruder’s tattooed mouth, jaw, and neck her identity was clear; Nadia Dreyark.

Nadia jumped to the ground giving Elma a speculative look before addressing Brunhild. “I came hoping to find Brand, instead I find that he’s been missing for, how long?”

“Two weeks,” Elma said without thinking.

“Ah, two weeks,” Nadia continued. “Along with two other strikers. And from what I just heard you can't find them.”

“Finding then isn't as simple as you think,” Steapa said coming to Brunhild’s rescue.

“I know I know,” Nadia said. “That's why I'm only angry and not absolutely livid.” Her words were now angry but at the very least weren’t aimed at anyone in particular. “Tanya Bryer’s little crush on Brand lets Bitarr take his form during the day. Thanks to that thing she now knows he’s alive, in Alfhiem, and some kind of criminal. Luckily, Bitarr either can’t dig any deeper into Brand’s memory or is keeping what he knows to himself.”

A dark thought crossed Elma’s mind, one she had to confirm. “What would you have done if Brand were here?”

“I wouldn’t have killed him,” Nadia promised to know that was on everyone’s minds. “Not that it would help. Bitarr could still take his form if he were dead. In truth, I had no real plan coming here. I only wanted to make you aware of the very big problem we have that apparently just got bigger.”

********

“So Bitarr is wearing your face,” Uhtred said as if Brand’s words were a humorless joke.

“Not just my face,” Brand corrected. “He's got my memories too.”

Uhtred began tapping his finger nervously. “You seem pretty calm about this.”

“It's fine,” Brand said waving away the concern. “According to Nadia it can't access all my memories, so it only knows that I'm in Alfhiem and some kind of criminal.”

“Nadia!” Uhtred exclaimed.

“Yeah, our Nadia,” Brand confirmed. “She came looking for me and only found Brunhild with half her team.” Brand chuckled evilly. “Our late captain might not be a captain for much longer.”

“I still don't think you're giving this the right amount of panic.”

Brand put down the length of wood he was subjecting to various enneagrams to see which one works best. “Even if Bitarr has all my memories we're safe because the oath is still in play when it takes my form. It can't tell Tanya or anyone who isn't already a striker anything that compromises us. And the fact that Nadia is in the north asking Brunhild where I am instead of breaking down our front door means it hasn't told her shit.”

“What about when it reverts back to its original form,” Uhtred inquired.

“If Bitarr can retain the knowledge of everyone it became it would be the most knowledgeable being in existence. I think with all the legends surrounding that monster at least one would mention it being more than a whimsical idiot that just does whatever feels good.”

“There is still the problem of Nadia uncovering what we’re doing.”

Brand was about to respond but hesitated as he focused in on the hundreds of listening spells spread throughout Brunhild’s safe house. Unbeknownst to the woman, she had no amount of privacy in her dwelling. From the dishes she ate with, to the toilet, she used Brand covered every surface with invisible spells to monitor her every word. Some were even on the striker herself placed on things and places she would not regularly cleanse of obtrusive magic.

Brands attention returned to Uhtred. “No need to worry. Nadia is heading back south but she will report us so within the month more strikers will show up.”

“And yet you still seem happy about this mess we find ourselves in. Probably because a certain someone is still thinking about you.”

Brand remained silent not confirming the truth of Uhtred's words. He was indeed happy that Bitarr was assuming his form. It meant Tanya's feelings hadn't changed in the years they'd been apart.

Her feelings towards him were obvious while they were in the Hall together. Sadly, Brand was preoccupied with Azmina who proved to be anything but trustworthy. These days he had a hard time even thinking of her without his blood boiling. At least now all thoughts of revenge melted away with time and perspective. Or maybe it was due to the war she was losing even with the army she bought with her betrayal. In a way, Brand felt lucky to not be involved with her war. Being a striker gave him much more freedom than he would otherwise. At least that’s what he told himself.

Regardless, Brand wanted to at least let Tanya know he was alive by meeting her face to face. Mildrith too if he got the chance. Godric and Marla were out of question them being in Midgard and ruling over Gridania. But Tanya was so close he couldn't help but want to see her and tell her everything he’d been through the last few years.

As Brand thought of revealing the secrets of his new life to Tanya a fresh wave of pain surged through his body. The oath within his mind would not allow any sensitive information to be divulged. Even thinking of doing so was enough to trigger it. Brand was especially good at rearranging his thoughts in a way to bypass such restrictions like the path I was currently on that would bring serious damage to Vellia initially, but in the long run, would prove more fruitful than not. The problem was when it came to Tanya, he could think of no such reasoning to allow Them to meet.

“Are you ok?” Uhtred asked. “That seemed like a bad one.”

“I was just caught off guard,” Brand said then looked over to the stunned woman waiting patiently for his conversation to end. “Borga is everyone here?”

Borga visibly flinched as Brand returned to speaking the common tongue. He'd been speaking Latin, a long-dead language while Uhtred spoke Celtic, an equally obscure tongue. Borga had no hope of following the conversation. At most she would hear half of it in the unlikely case she was schooled in any of the two dialects.

“Yes, Phantom,” Borga said when she collected herself. “Everyone is right outside.”

Brand rolled his eyes while Uhtred laughed at his given nickname. He’d been speaking in jest when he said to think of him as a phantom. But unlike in his youth, Brand would not protest. His Phantom troupe could call him whatever they wanted as long as they served their purpose.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Moments later, Brand entered a room with several dozen eyes trained on him. They were all a mixture of fey, jötunn , and kin all of whom were the best each underworld syndicate had to offer. Each race huddled together in the candlelit chamber finding allies against those that were different, all except for the ones Brand addressed directly; the ones he augmented a day ago.

“So how do you like your new augments?” Brand inquired.

The question was genuine. Several of the augment Brand made the previous day were experimental, some radically so. These men and women made perfect test subjects for every whimsical idea that came to him. Everyone surviving was honestly surprising. Brand was 50 percent sure the intangible augment was lethal. If that were the case, he’d just lie saying the woman was killed due to incompetence or bad luck and settle for using the spell normally.

“I never realized how weak my old build was,” one of them said in awe. “I now have a reason to cultivate again.”

“It does seem whatever life mage you used was not skilled enough to build passed the fourth gate.” Brand glared at Borga. “That along with your bosses keeping the best for themselves kept you all far weaker than you should be.”

“Ha!” an unassuming kin woman exclaimed. “That's nothing compared to what us thieves got.” She smacked her hands together demonstrating that no sound was made. “I practically stomped my way into that merchant's house without making a sound not that I can stomp very hard. I weigh like ten pounds now and can walk through fucking walls! When I open my sixth gate, I bet I could steal a ring off the king himself.”

“She’s lucky to have not become a part of that wall,” Brand thought to himself before Uhtred jumped in.

“Just remember we’ll only provide beast cores up to the fourth gate. After that, you're on your own and you will pay us back for what you owe.”

“Yeah whatever,” Brand said pushing off the monetary concerns and looked at the rest of his test subjects. “As you all can see, I'm a life mage like no other. I can offer you whatever build comes to mind including some that don't. And If your third gate is already open, I'll lend you the beast cores necessary to open your fourth. Sadly, I don't have the same opportunities for the magi among you. But I can offer a way around city guards and the military looking for rogue magi. I'll just carve a few runes into your first gate and you'll never have to worry about your large mana pools being detected.”

Brand smiled as eyes widened and disbelief swam throughout the chamber. Those with the potential to become a mage rarely did so on the wrong side of the law. A large mana pool made them too easy to detect by the authorities. An inexperienced tracker could easily find someone who's power burned like a torch in the darkness. Even in Vellia, no technique for hiding one’s power had been discovered. What Brand offered could potentially shift the power structure of the city permanently and everyone knew it. Best of all, the runes needed to duplicate his focus was something only he could see. No one but him could copy the runes ensuring they would stay firmly in his control. They were based entirely on his focus that to his knowledge had yet to be studied if even recorded.

“There’s only one small problem,” Brand continued. “I have, no, we have rules.” Brand tilted his head towards Uhtred. “Very simple rules that of course many of you have already broken.”

Brand looked over to the woman he'd given the intangible argument wishing he didn't have to kill one of his successes. But at least he'd have another body for his other projects. “I gave you the tools to rob that merchant and yet you saw it fit to keep some of the spoils for yourself.” Brand raised his finger and snapped. “I hope the gold was worth it.”

The woman released a garbled scream as blood streamed from her mouth. At the same time, she scratched at her neck and chest unable to find the source of the burning within. By the time her legs fell out from under her she’d cut deep into herself while red foam covered her mouth.

Brand took a long look at his handy work. The woman’s death didn't need to be anywhere near that painful. He could have set any number of spells to kill her quick and painless but a message needed to be sent.

Brand nonchalantly stepped over the dying woman while weapons were drawn, shields were raised, and many failed to escape bouncing off invisible walls at the exits. “Don't bother, the room is warded. Now as I was saying I have rules like not stealing from me.” Brand looked over to someone else he augmented. “Like not killing the city guards. I don't need that kind of attention.”

“I didn't,” the man said holding a sword in front of himself like it would save him.

“Don't bother lying. I can see and hear everything you do since I augmented you. Right after I did, you killed some guard, but I don't really know why.”

“He, he killed my brother-”

“Then you should have asked permission before killing him.” Brand snapped his fingers once again and was followed by another round of horrible screams. He continued speaking ignoring the panic around him. “I also don't like being spied on.” In a blur of motion, Brand wrapped his aura around a kin man to hold him in place. “Lucky for you I have busyness with Hel’s cult.” Brand dropped the terrified man who thought for sure he was about to die and spoke as if nothing was wrong. “Set that up and I won't melt your insides. As for the rest of you, who wants to be augmented now?” When no one answered Brand offered them a reminder of their current circumstances. “Or you can refuse and try to kill me to bring down the wards. Your choice.”

Brand spent the rest of the day augmenting the strongest magic users he lorded over. They all now knew with a thought he could drown them in a sea of pain and blood.

*****

A disturbing chill ran down Uhtred’s spine as the image of Brand’s work refused to leave his mind. He could stomach the agonizing death his friend gave his former subordinate. Stealing from a superior was foolish especially if said superior could kill you. It would be like Uhtred stealing from the Dreyarks or his goddess if she ever graced him with her presence. The guard killer also had to die. With the augments Brand handed out-.

“For fucking free!” Uhtred shouted into the shadows as the thought came to him. “Thank Amra I was there to unfuck that situation.”

But if Brand didn't hold the reins on his, subjects, Brunhild would find them in no time when bodies started piling up. What Uhtred could not abide or more accurately couldn't witness without feeling sick was Brand’s augmentation process.

From what Uhtred knew of life magic it was usually not invasive but that was only when using existing build templates. Brand seemed to only offer new, unheard of, and completely experimental builds with only a small consideration for what his subject wanted. These builds, that worked only most of the times, required him to cut into his subjects as they slept, or the pain would kill them. He’d suspend them in the air and carve away pieces replacing them with magical constructs or mutating the flesh into something new. It was bloody, it was fucking gross, it was more than Uhtred could handle so he left to check on his own projects.

Uhtred looked over the fine-tuned machine he made from the scrapes the underworld. With Brand finding the best spells to imbue into the mana-soaked trees near the Jotunheim rift and Astrid streamlining the enchanting process, the weapons being made now were worlds above the previous versions. But unlike his friends, Uhtred had the aptitude to bring it all together. Brand could be the face, the one everyone was scared of, but Uhtred would truly lead.

One such operation he led was the one he currently walked through in the shadows. Thanks to light interfering with the enchanting, a fact unknown or ignored until recently, Uhtred walked through the sparkly lit room unseen. He spied on his appointed managers making sure they kept the quality of each wand, baculous, or enchanted knife was pristine.

Uhtred then shadow walked to several of his drug processing plants. He’d never indulge in mind-altering substances, but he wanted every coin their sale could earn. The best part was that most of the profits would ultimately be his. Brand and Astrid had a more, “if I want it, I'll just take it,” mentality so he’d have much to offer Amra in the near future.

After making sure his criminal empire was running smoothly, he made his way to his final and most important stop. He took a moment to observe his flock then left the shadow through an especially dark corner of his makeshift chapel. As his presence was felled many eyes widened in surprise. Most attending this sermon were capable thieves not used to being snuck upon. Uhtred’s ability to do so only added weight to the words they all came to hear.

One perspective acolyte caught Uhtred’s eye her unbearably cute face almost demanding his attention. “I’m glad to see you came back,” Uhtred said unable to remove the smile from his face especially when she smiled back at him causing his heart to skip a beat.

“Well,” the girl whispered with a deep blush coloring her cheeks. “Thieving has kept me alive my entire life so in a way I owe Amra my life.”

*********

As Uhtred spoke, the girl he couldn't help but steal glances of listened to every word with pride and amazement. No one had ever spoken of her in such a way. The closest anyone had come was a human in her thieves’ guild several hundred years past. That man was solely responsible for her attaining godhood and Amra had a feeling Uhtred believed in her just as much.

Faith practically radiated off him in waves all of it directed at her without him knowing. But it wasn't just Uhtred. Slowly but surely as he spoke those around him burned with the embers of faith that would blossom into raging wildfires given time and attention. Amra could hardly believe giving a fraction of her power to an orphaned street rat could have led to her being a multi raced goddess.

“You want us to give a portion of our earnings?” questioned a newcomer.

“Only if you want to,” Uhtred replied. “In truth, you can do whatever you want, that's the point. No priest came to me telling me what I had to eat, how to act, or even how to worship. Amra is not just the goddess of thieves, she’s a goddess of freedom itself. Praise her in whatever way you deem fit. Pray for her guidance before you burgle. Thank her for a successful heist. It matters not, just have her in your heart when you do what you do best so you can do it better!”

Many in the makeshift chapel including Amra cheered but the newcomer still seemed unconvinced. “I may be a thief, but Oberon will always be my god.”

“And I'm not asking you to change that,” Uhtred said jovially. “But Amra will take care of you in life while Oberon only helps you in death.”

“Oberon is no God of death!” the man spat back.

Uhtred chuckled but quickly calmed himself showing he was at least trying to be respectful. “As beast kin we return to Tir na nog to live on the next cycle of our lives but what can Oberon do for you in this life?”

“You think we can live without nature? You think we can live without the harvest he and the lady Tatiana bring?”

Uhtred raised his hands gesturing to everyone in the room. “Do any of us look like farmers to you? Praise Oberon and rejoice when you find yourself in his kingdom. But until then, in the dead of night surrounded by those that would thwart your plans, Amra is the goddess you want at your side.”

The goddess had heard enough. She’d heard enough an hour ago, but Amra couldn't bring herself to interrupt her new favorite worshipper. She offered Uhtred a blessing with an effect she couldn't begin to predict. With the divinity already infused into him and his faith, anything could happen.

All light fled leaving everyone in pitch darkness. When the lights returned a moment later stunned silence was drowned out by Uhtred’s laughter. The shadows at his feet dance and enlarged independently while making made snapping sounds as sharp monstrous teeth snapped shut biting the air.

Uhtred looked over his flock with eyes that were now darker than a moonless night. “Does anyone still have doubts?”

Amra certainly had none. She was more than happy to play mortal as long as Uhtred played with her.