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V5: Chapter 9.1 - Drazah’s Three

“Come in,” Phon responded to the knock on her door, looking up from the box of files in her lap. It contained some of the various evidence and blackmail against Drim’s political opponents, along with other various politicians and government agents that she’d collected. Most of it was handed over to Feyjrusa for faster processing, but there were some more sensitive bits that the woman preferred to verify with her own eyes.

“This is a new situation for me,” Krayat uttered as she entered the bedroom, sliding the door shut quietly behind her. “Can’t say I care for it. Your barrier did not try to stop me this time. When I made it past the gate, the road lit up, guiding me to your mansion. And when I arrived at the front door, your butler was waiting for me and led me here. So I suppose you knew I was coming.”

“Of course I did,” The Vixen stated matter-of-factly, setting aside her box of files and clasping her hands together. “I always know where you are, Krayat. Every second of every day. I know what you’re doing, where you’re going, who you’re speaking with. Can’t say I particularly care, but I know because I have to know. You are the person who nearly caused the collapse of almost every military on a global scale with your thievery after all.”

“With your Curse and your skillset, I have to make sure that you don’t make a repetitive mistake. Honestly, we should just hold you captive here, but there’s a reason my kinder-hearted brother is in charge instead of me. Would be nice, though, to not have to constantly keep tabs on you. Especially since my time these days is so limited and valuable with everything going on. So let’s get this over with. It’s obvious why you’re here, but spout it out anyways.”

“I’m here because I want your help to save—”

“Save your beloved, yes obviously,” Phon sighed, bored with their conversation already. “That’s the only goal you’ve ever really had as far as I can tell. You’re a pretty one-note character.”

“Well, I haven’t come to beg without proper payment,” the thief assured her. “I’ve obtained invaluable information that should aid you well in all your causes. The person who kidnapped my beloved, who has been keeping me chained in servitude, I’ve learned who they are—the one who had me steal your Gizmicros. Their name is—”

“Gort Hower, Representative of Horage,” The Vixen once again answered for The Burglar. “You’re a few months late with that news.”

“Wait, if you know, then why haven’t you done anything about him?!” Krayat suddenly demanded, stamping two steps forward. “That mawhger has done so much! Why haven’t you outed him? Or rather, why haven’t you killed him?! He deserves nothing less!”

“We have our reasons,” was the only answer that Phon could provide. “Now’s not the time for drastic action, but we are doing our best to ensure that any of his future plans will fall flat on their faces. Don’t worry, though, we’ll make sure he atones for everything he’s done. Not that I see how his death would actively help you with your current situation, unless you just want to feel a little better while still not getting what you want.”

“For that, I have figured out where they’re being kept!” Krayat’s words were filled with hope. “It’s—”

“Spare me the details, I know where your beloved is located,” Phon sounded like she didn’t give the slightest zjik.

“Then why haven’t you rescued them?!” Krayat about damn near charged the woman, stopping just shy of pouncing on her, reeling back her anger and frustration. Tears began streaming down her face. “You know what they mean to me! Are you so heartless that you would continue to let us suffer?!”

Phon then stared the grieving woman dead in the eyes. “You know the reasons I can’t save them. Since you’ve scouted the place out, it should be obvious that my power alone isn’t enough. Saving them is something that takes a lot of planning and needs to be done right on the first try, or you know the consequences. Such a pain in the ass for a Cosdamned toy. I can just buy you a new one, if you like.”

“It’s not just a toy!” the thief insisted, shoving her hand into her blouse, grabbing her locket, trying to wrestle it free from her neck.

The Vixen then mentioned casually with a hint of mocking, “Right, action figure, or collectible, or whatever you people call them. Always so obsessed with the terminology.”

Krayat ignored the rambling, shoving the locket in Phon’s face as soon as she got it open. On the one side was a young man, Krayat’s former apprentice-thief whom she’d killed to become a Fiend. Phon had looked into the man briefly in the past and quickly deemed him not worth her time to investigate further—forgotten by the world and faded to obscurity.

On the other side of the locket, however, was a faded photograph of a girl that The Vixen had to assume was a young Krayat. And the boy she was holding onto was most likely her brother. In the boy's arms, he was happily clinging to a fancy-looking robotic action figure that had just passed their fad when Phon was a child. The picture was obviously cropped as well with a pair of certainly parental legs standing behind the two children.

“It’s not just a toy because…” the woman could no longer hold back her tears, crouching to the ground to try and control her emotions, but she failed, completely losing her usual stoic facade. “Because it’s all I have left of him, of them.”

Phon braced herself for the backstory about to be spouted in her face, even though she certainly knew most of it. The woman got more comfortable in her seat and tried to feign that she remotely gave the tiniest zjik—failing horribly at her attempted empathy.

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Krayat paid no attention to it, though, and poured her heart anyways. “We were always a poor family. My father worked two jobs while my mother stayed home to take care of our grandfather who needed constant care. We basically had nothing, but we still never complained.”

“There was always this one toy, though, that my brother and I always wanted. It was well out of my family’s budget, but our eyes would light up, especially my brother’s, every time we saw the commercial for it or walked past a shop with it in the window. And one day, our father surprised us with it out of nowhere, having picked up a few extra shifts just to get it for us.”

“We knew that it was the best gift we’d get for a long time, so we took care of it and played with it every day. My brother even slept with it every night. It was basically his best friend, and it made him feel safe, especially when the scars of war started appearing in our town.”

“Then the night when our parents were taken, and we had to flee for our lives—even though my brother didn’t quite understand what was happening, he made me grab the toy before we could leave. It meant that much to him.”

“We ran for days after that, until we couldn’t run anymore. I found a safe place for us, and left my brother to beg for food and spare change. But after a completely unsuccessful day, I decided to steal it instead. It was my first time stealing anything. I was horrible at it, and I’m sure it was very obvious to anyone looking, so I was caught immediately.”

“The police held me in lockup for days, even after telling them about my brother. When they were going to transport me to juvenile detention, I managed to break away and escape. But by the time I made it back to my brother, he was already gone—starved to death, waiting for me to come back, still clinging to that toy.”

“That’s why I will do anything to rescue it—my everything, my beloved, my family—because it’s all I have.”

“How touching,” Phon leant forward in her chair. “I know that my tone of voice and how I look bored beyond reason makes it seem like I’m being sarcastic, but I do genuinely feel for you. If Drim were to ever pass away, and there was something that meant the world to him, I’d do everything to hold onto it with my life. And if someone took it, I wouldn’t rest until I had it back. So I empathize with your plight, truly.”

“The problem is the cost of doing business. You’d clearly need our help to get the action figure back, and we’re not a charity. I’m guessing Hower’s identity was your big bargaining chip, and that’s all you came with. Now I’m sure you’re already thinking of what else you can offer. I can tell you now that we’d have no interest in anything you’ve stolen, unless you have some very juicy and specific evidence I can use. But trinkets mean nothing to us, take those to Rishaki.”

“However…” The Vixen’s voice turned coy. “I suppose I could always do it as a favor… for family.”

“Just so we’re clear, I mean that in the rather literal sense. Not to confuse you into thinking I’d ever help you due to some shared sense of duty or plight. No, I mean that I’d be willing to assist you with this issue as a one-time huge favor with no cost upfront, because that is what family’s for. Do you agree, Krayat Drazah?”

“Wh-what?!” the thief stumbled back, clutching her head in pain at mere mention of the name. “What are you talking about?”

“An interesting life you’ve lived,” Phon got up from her chair and slowly began walking towards the woman, pressing into her confusion. “And you can say you’ve been Cursed in more ways than one. Cursed with the death of your family, cursed with loneliness, cursed with betrayal, and cursed with our name.”

“It’s why your parents died after all. Drazah has never been a common name, but it doesn’t mean it’s exclusive to myself and Drim, or even our parents. No, there was a time when Drazahs were in small pockets all over the world. Of course, then the war happened, causing the mere mention of the name to make everyone zjik their pants when they heard it.”

“So the great Drazah hunt began. Anyone with their name, regardless of whether they knew our parents, were hunted down and jailed or killed. It didn’t matter who they were or what connections they had, the name was enough. Maybe they thought it could be used against our family in some way to stop the war, but our parents certainly didn’t care.”

“Which means unfortunately, your parents and your brother died for nothing, all because of mass paranoia. Truly a tragedy. I can’t say we had anything to do with it, but I suppose you could blame us in a way for keeping the name alive—another reason to do you this favor.”

“It wasn’t easy finding this tidbit of information, nor did I purposefully seek it out. But believe it or not, it was digging through Gort Hower’s files that I uncovered this piece. He had your true name written down in the dossier he had on you. It seems he learned it from your apprentice, which is what led to the series of events that ended with you enslaved as a politician’s henchman.”

“That’s another tragedy, really. After your heart-wrenching loss, you eventually found someone you believed you could trust, that you could tell anything to, and you were comfortable enough to reveal your true identity to them. And it screwed you over royally.”

“Then after you killed him, you quite literally traumatized yourself into forgetting your own name so that it could never be used against you again. But I guess you never suspected to find other Drazahs in the world again, let alone ones who could find out the truth. Don’t get it wrong, though, we’re not actually that close.”

“After I found out about it, I was intrigued enough to do a deep dive on our family tree. Basically everyone in our immediate family is dead except for our uncle. Oh, we do have a great aunt who became a vegetable after an attack on her life, but that’s about it. For extended family, though, we have to go super duper far to get to you. Hell, even one of our members, Itsy, is closer in relation than you are.”

“All we have in common is our last name, but I guess it’s good enough. We will help you, Krayat, and then, in return, you’ll owe us something big. I might use you as a pawn to dig up more dirt on Hower—I’m sure you’d enjoy that since it will ultimately ruin him. Though, I’d prefer if you just gave up the thieving life and became a nobody that I can forget about.”

“Regardless, we will help you save your dearly beloved. But we can’t do it right this minute. I’ve taken a good gander at where the toy is being held, so I’ve had general ideas of what needs to be done. More planning in study is certainly required, however. Give me four days, and I’ll have everything ready to go. We’ll reconvene for a briefing that afternoon and then start the heist that night.”