Walking alone through their clans' ancestral garden, Creon welcomed the occasional fresh breeze which brought a dearly missed feeling of peacefulness. Trying to distance himself from his daily troubles of being Patriarch, he took a deep breath and watched the soft lights from the megacity beyond their clan walls and listened. Beyond the walls of their clan, beautiful skyscrapers loomed ubiquitously. As the capital city of Vadora, it obviously had to stand out somehow, and it did so magnificently. A testament to the country's great progress and innovation power, designed down to the last detail. Because their clan had been one the founding members of the country, they'd aeons ago been gifted valuable land from the royal family. Land which they had kept ever since then, growing in value as free space became less available. Their clan property was now one of the most lucrative real estates privately owned due to its central location in the capital, not to mention the significant amount of land attached to it. Not it'd helped them much besides collateral for loans.
He’d never been an idealist, his experiences since childhood simply hadn't allowed such illusions to fester, yet being confronted with the struggles needed for their clan to succeed had proved even beyond his imagination. In order to navigate them through these difficult times, he’d to develop a more cunning and ruthless practice. Not that it’d resolved their financial problems. Bad management of resources and money in multiple generations prior to his appointment as Patriarch had deeply cemented their situation.
Walking in silence along the created pathways in the garden while pondering, Creon was suddenly disturbed by a calm deep voice of a man originating from behind him.
“You seem slightly troubled. I hope you don’t me intruding, you see... I come with a proposition for you which I believe could be of great mutual benefit to the both of us.”
Taken completely unaware he was initially quite shocked. He instinctively positioned his tail enabling him to evade incoming attacks, should it be necessary.
Having reached the 3rd sphere no one should have been able to approach him without his knowledge. At the very least people from his clan shouldn’t, so he was quite sure it could only be an intruder and judging by where the previous voice came from, he was standing right behind Creon.
Cautious of the whole situation, he hesitantly asked.
“Can I turn around or would that present a problem”, patiently waiting for a response.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
“It’s fine, you can turn around…” The intruder said with a slight accent.
Creon slowly turned around to prevent causing any misunderstandings.
As he’d guessed, the intruder had been right behind him although much closer than expected, as 10 feet from his position he saw a stranger wearing a hooded black cloak and a tribal mask, hiding everything except his massive built. The intruder was virtually like a small moving mountain approaching a height of at least 7,8 feet.
He'd never thought of himself as short, but standing opposite this giant certainly put things in perspective. Of course, he knew appearance differed according to which region a person originated from, he’d just never met anyone this enormous.
Despite the unusual situation and considerable stature of the intruder, he felt less exposed having formed a visual contact. Moreover, the fact that he wasn’t dead yet and the mention of a proposition certainly helped.
“Well, sir…? I hope you've done your research properly because it would take something pretty major to resolve the kinds of problems I'm facing at the moment. However, in case you do have a solution in mind at the very least, I should hear you out,” Creon shrugged.
“Indeed I have, so no need to be so dejected. You can call me Mykl if necessary. So, for the past year, I've been tasked with researching potential sites which could be used as part of an expansion plan. Due to the increasing demand for our products our current facilities simply aren't sufficient anymore," he shook his head.
"Huh? So what exactly do you produce?" Creon asked, very much interested in hearing his answer.
"We are in the business of producing opportunities and security. For those with enough wealth or collateral, our organization has specialized in selecting talented infants and eventually train them to become elite sentinels willing and able to complete any orders given. Warriors, assassins, infiltrators, bodyguards, it doesn't matter, we will train them for whatever the clients need," Mykl explained.
"So, in order for us to meet future customer demand, leaders of ours has decided to develop a new training facility, which brings us back to you and your clan," he nodded towards Creon.
"With your cooperation, we would like to construct one part of this training facility beneath the earth we stand," he said while pointing towards the ground, "and be part of its basic operation to ensure prevention of any problems.”
Mykl’s directness and tone of voice during his explanation suggested a certain sense of familiarity and normalcy in relation to the subject. The revulsion that you might expect simply wasn’t there and his initial explaining was followed by an almost artistic pause all while watching Creon’s stunned expression.
“As you might understand it’s essential to such a place to remain unknown to the outside world, but as your clan is just about forgotten caused by your rapid decline and this country generally being ignored due to being remote and inaccessible, it’s practically an ideal location for constructing an urban training facility. Consequently, we would like for your clan’s cooperation. We would, of course, compensate you for your troubles.”
Finishing his proposition, he gestured for Creon to voice his opinion on the matter at hand.