Envy left the Diviner’s tent, adjusting her mud stained armour as she did so. Walking in quiet contemplation, she flashed the gate guard her slave token, scowling at the iconography that someone owned her.
Returning to the Guild, she tried to conceal her distress. The Diviner had told her the same thing as Exill. She was supposed to be dead, and the World had similarly forsaken her. They were of the same Fates.
Looking back on events, she suspected Exill knew this already. If he had known she were to die in Diallo’s cell, it provided a new perspective on why he had chosen her and been so generous in the offer to free her. A shiver ran down her back while remembering the terrible state she had been in.
For too long, she had been afraid to ask Exill why he would go through such lengths to acquire then promptly release her. She did not believe in altruism, and the more he bestowed upon her – in the form of freedom, money, and equipment – the more she became afraid of its terrible reckoning and price.
Knowing his intentions, it felt like a burden had been lifted from her shoulders, ‘I now have an idea of what he wants, and our interests are aligned. One thing is for sure, I most likely owe him my pathetic life.’
It was a distasteful thought, but a few things began to make sense, especially the terms of the [notarized contract] they had agreed to. The only thing he had wanted was her ‘help in all his endeavours.’ She had glossed over its meaning at the time, but it was no small request if they were going up against the Will of the World.
Feeling swindled, she didn’t notice the two well-equipped men saunter over to her across the guild hall. Sir Eumol, son of a noble and first member of Envy’s unofficial fan club, placed a gauntleted hand on her shoulder.
“Well, if it isn’t Miss Cherry Pie. You kept us waiting long enough.”
“It appears she had a tussle with swamp beasts from her muddy attire. Presumably while protecting her cowardly master?”
A second man dressed in black form-fitting robes appeared at her side. He was Vameki, son of a wealthy fur trader, and the second member of Envy’s unofficial fan club. Envy swatted Sir Eumol’s hand away, she intimately knew his type, and only viewed him as a walking coin purse.
“Pay up and let’s head out.”
The two men handed over their coins and fell in line, eyes glued to her swaying hips till they entered the inner sanctum of the Tower. They exchanged handshakes that lasted too long for her liking to establish the party. She could sense the barely controlled lust over their connection.
“What is my Rose worrying her pretty head about. You sense that as well Vameki?”
“Ah, you are right, her usual aloofness has a hint of distress. As expected of her future master, your ability to gauge a woman’s mood is most distinguished.”
“I’m worried I might kill you and desecrate your corpse,” she replied, giving both of them a hard stare.
“You always say the sweetest things.” Sir Eumol caressed her buttocks, resulting in a flurry of action where Envy elbowed his sternum, followed by a knee to the crotch. A hint of jealousy floated over their connection from Vameki, while Sir Eumol’s could only be described as pained pleasure.
“Filthy perverts. I’ll cut off your hand if you try that again.” She spat in disgust then turned towards the portal.
The first monster they encountered were a pack of five zombies. Their organs were used as enchantment material but were otherwise avoided by most mercenaries. Sir Eumol took his place beside Envy and prepared his gleaming tower shield and estoc. Vameki engaged hostilities by casting a wall of fire between them, forcing the zombies to walk through the flames to engage. They were swiftly burnt to a crisp and cut down by the trio.
Envy collected what she could from the charred corpses while the two men provided unwanted advice, enjoying the view of her bent over form.
She had to admit the pair were strong. They had the best training and equipment that money could buy. Sir Eumol sensed the hint of admiration and puffed out his chest. He felt his chance of rescuing Envy from her cowardly master was drawing near.
“Have you talked to that Witchdoctor of your desire to enter my services?” he pressured, for the third time that week.
“No.”
“Come now, I’ve offered to upgrade your equipment! What good is there in serving a gutless wimp who sends his woman into the Labyrinth alone?” Sir Eumol raised a pleading hand while Vameki nodded off to one side.
“I’ve told you before, this is my choice, and I don’t want your charity.”
“Then you leave me no choice, Vameki, the letter please.”
Vameki handed Envy an envelope with the seal of a noble’s crest. Sir Eumol continued with his explanation, “As I said, your spineless master leaves me no choice. I officially challenge him to a duel; he will accept if he is a man or forever be scorned for his cowardice.”
“I will save both your time by refusing the challenge.” She let the envelope fall to the ground in obvious disdain.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“I’m afraid it is out of your hands my little Cherry. Do not worry your pretty head and deliver it to your master, it is his to decide. Tell him he can accept the challenge in the Royal Arena. Regardless, I’m afraid this matter has left a sour taste in my mind, let us call our expedition short.”
Envy sighed, but picked up the letter and exited the Labyrinth, heading home, unsure of how to relate the matter to Exill, to whom she was already heavily indebted.
***
“He has done a background check on you... right?” Exill was exasperated upon seeing Envy’s shrug. Who in their right mind would covet a slave with such an illustrious owner killing record?
He scanned through the letter again, then glanced at Luna for advice, “How dangerous are duels, and what happens if I ignore this challenge?”
“There are a few deaths each year, but I understand the rules restrict murder, the purpose is to resolve disputes after all, not to kill each other. Since a Noble has challenged you, turning it down will lead to your disgrace. The Magistrate will quietly revoke your residence permit and you will find it difficult to enter the Inner City. Nobles and rich merchants alike would avoid your services.”
“Then what are the outcomes if I accept the challenge?”
“If you lose, you will be compelled to sell the slave to Sir Eumol for the price you purchased her. If you win, the dispute is settled with no option for retrial and he must pay you a token gesture of 1000 denars.”
Exill grinned, “It appears I win either way. You couldn’t imagine how much trouble she has been.”
Luna’s eyes turned hopeful while Envy’s became a deathly glare. There was a time and a place for jokes, and this was no laughing matter.
Exill rummaged in his pouch for his newest divination tool, a silver blank-faced coin for divining simple ‘yes or no’ answers. He channelled mana into it and flipped the coin, catching it in midair. He unfurled his fingers to reveal a familiar glowing rune.
“Just how strong is this Sir Eumol?” he asked.
Envy hesitated before replying. She had fought alongside both men. More importantly, she didn’t want to risk her chance at freedom, “Don’t even think about it. He is 27 years old and already a mid-tier [Knight]. He has the best equipment and training that money can buy. Compared to that, you are only 18 with one year of experience as a [Warrior]. Ignore this challenge, being disgraced doesn’t matter when we can move to another city and start again.”
Luna gripped his hand tightly under the table. She did not want him to leave Ark.
Exill knew the Vampire's words made sense, but a slow rumble of indignation coursed through his chest at the thought of abandoning what he had built up, all for the whims of some petty noble.
“Let’s assume we move to another city. What happens when another noble takes a liking to you, or covets something I own, do I run away again?” he asked spitefully.
“Yes... you don’t seem to understand but we are like ants to them. You have neither the wealth nor power to oppose nobles.” Envy replied plainly.
Exill briefly closed his eyes and pondered on the injustice of it all. Back on Earth, he had heard of civil forfeiture laws where police were empowered to steal from the poor and disadvantaged - even where no crime had been committed. Replace police with nobles and it was the same for this World, better actually, because at least here - you had to offer fair compensation for the things you stole.
“You can fight when you are stronger.” Envy added softly, pushing him over the edge.
Exill grit his teeth and spoke slowly in a low voice, “I will fight him and win.”
He stood up from the table abruptly and entered his room, leaving Luna staring at his back with guarded eyes. The Elf secretly hoped he would lose this challenge and part ways with the Vampire.
In the room, Exill collapsed on the bed, laying a towel under one arm. The worry gnawing at him was carefully concealed as he rolled up one sleeve of his tunic. There was good reason to be concerned, when questioned who would win in the duel, the divination coin had given the equivalent of landing on its edge – as usual.
Following his gut, he had chosen to accept the challenge. Exill estimated he had the equivalent of sixteen years of advantage in levelling thanks to his multiple training equipment yielding 16x EXP. For a brief time, his experience gain had peaked at 64x while the Blacksmith Gloves and Apron were still intact. A pang of grief hit him over the loss of the tattered apron. It had finally given up the ghost a couple months ago and his level would have been much higher with it.
He was soon joined in the narrow bed by Envy in their new preferred feeding position where she used his arm as a pillow.
“How will you uphold the promise to free me if you lose?” she asked, staring at the far wall.
“I won’t lose.”
Exill had already prepared three plans in the unlikely scenario he would lose. The first was rather simple. He just needed to get stronger and challenge Sir Eumol to win Envy back before the two years were up. The second option had potential but still needed some adjustments. The option of last resort was to accept Luna’s 28k Denar loan and free Envy before the date of the duel. Win or lose, he couldn’t be compelled to hand over a person who was free.
“Did you wash your arm?”
“Yes, you saw me washing the dishes.”
She sniffed in disdain, then wrapped her soft lips around his forearm. It never ceased to amaze him how vulnerable she was while feeding, lapping at his vitality. At times like this, it was difficult to believe she was the same person who had plagued his sanity this morning.
Exill softly brushed her hair, the exact same thing he had been falsely accused of doing by this troublesome demon.
He didn’t know why he did it. It might have been a repressed response to all the problems she had caused, or it could be because he enjoyed getting hit. Who knows why men do dangerous things for so little gain?
The response was swift and brutal in the form of an elbow to his side. Before she could get another strike in, he wrestled the arm down, suppressing her.
“Ouch! Okay I’m sorry. I can see blood dripping down so let’s stop.” He slowly released her but was rewarded with a final elbow to his side, but thankfully, it was weak. Exill felt a slight resonance in his core and intuitively knew that their Contract had been enforced.
They were forbidden from harming each other, and the chains binding them had flared to life after the first strike. He had heard stories of men struck down by lightning for reneging on their deals. There were also tales of soldiers abruptly paralysed from the waist down while deserting the battlefield. Sure, these stories could be dramatized, but he suspected there was a terrible grain of truth in them.
As the pain subsided away, moments turned to minutes, and he began to doze off, comforted by her warmth and worrying about the upcoming fight.
Envy fed a little longer until she was sure he was asleep. Kissing the wound closed, she peeled away his restraining arm and turned to face him. Even while sleeping, his brows were furrowed in worry and his lips slowly parted, forming words that couldn’t be heard.
A wavering hand reached out to his forehead and with gentle strokes of her thumb, massaged the tension built up over his eyebrows. She was familiar with nightmares after all, and considered this a minor act of compassion.
Envy quietly stood up and left the room, meeting the impassive gaze of Luna who hadn’t moved from her seat. The Vampire broke eye contact first and climbed the ladder to the attic.