Two guards, dressed in emerald cloaks, bow as a hooded figure enters a dimly lit room. The hooded figure moves to a table at the center of the room—where a second hooded figure is seated. Neither figure makes a move to remove their hood. The seated figure offers the new arrival a seat at the table. The figure complies.
“What news have you?” The owner of the darkened room utters in a deep trill.
“Security Master Zorobo has been dispatched, by the Monoch, to uncover the identity of any and all infiltrators of the Olotir Alliance,” the new arrival trills flatly. “He has been given orders to use any means at his disposal to bring the traitors in. Considering how much Zorobo covets the position of Master Guard; I have no doubt he will find the evidence he seeks. Even if he has to fabricate it. As he did in the case against Artisan Crafter Sotet. He got extremely lucky, catching Sotet bringing the human child across the plane. However, my sources inform me that Zorobo already had plans to take Sotet in on other charges. Charges which could not necessarily be substantiated, but for which he had already begun amassing witnesses. Security Master Zorobo is ruthless. He is relentless. Familial ties mean nothing. Loyalty, even less. I recommend we advise our operatives against performing any type of…extra activities. At least, for the time being.”
The other figure remains quiet but nods affirmatively.
“I must go before I am missed,” the visitor states in a soft voice. “I will return when there is more to tell.”
“Until then,” the second figure trills. “Take care that you are not observed.”
With a nod, the visitor climbs to their feet. The guards once again nod with respect as the hooded visitor exits the room.
The seated figure waits a few beats before also climbing to their feet. Activating a small sphere beside a crystalline screen; the hooded figure speaks to the image which shimmers into view.
“It appears we may have a problem,” the figure states.
The visage of a large shrike takes up the entire screen. The shrike in question is displeased with the forthcoming admission. He scowls intensely.
“Another problem?” the shrike exclaims angrily.
“Yes. Not only has the Monoch been compromised…Security Master Zorobo has been dispatched to bring any and all conspirators to justice before the throne. We have it on good authority that he is prepared to fabricate any evidence which will grant him the position of Master Guard. He’s not interested in playing fair. Security Master Zorobo is concerned with only one thing—Glory. At any cost.”
The large shrike leans forward. His angry scowl turns into a sly grin.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“Then, we will not play fair either,” the large shrike trills angrily. “Our goal is not a frivolous one. Our goal is to restore the throne of the Monoch to its former majesty. And to eliminate those who have corrupted its purpose. Once we have the evidence we need to confirm that those who claim to be Lurviy and Huetvik are merely imposters; we will be in a far better position to bring justice back to Shretonia. Spare none of your operatives. I want the location of the cloning facility. We will strike while the iron is hot.”
“If I may be so bold, famed master?” the hooded shrike says with a reverent bow. “I think we should exercise caution. I have received word that the Monoch, and Shretonia’s security forces, are on high alert. Any sudden moves now, will definitely arouse unnecessary suspicion.”
“I appreciate your advisement, but my orders stand,” the large shrike commands without missing a beat. “If you cannot follow them, I will find another who can. But the resistance will not be made vulnerable. Do you understand my meaning?”
The hooded figure nods solemnly. “Understood.”
“Good. See to it,” the large shrike utters before disconnecting the communication signal.
The hooded figure stands before the crystalline viewing screen and sighs.
_
_
The hooded visitor seen previously ducks into a narrow alley and removes their emerald robe. Glancing around at her surroundings; Kotoro takes a step forward and reaches behind a large metal crate. She grabs a purple and gold bag from behind the crate and shoves her hooded robe into it. Hefting the bag onto one shoulder, she strides confidently towards the opposite end of the alley. A shadowy figure suddenly looms ahead of her. There is a brief glint of metal. Kotoro takes a step backward and hesitates. She contemplates running in the other direction, but decides to play it cool. She walks with measured steps toward the figure at the end of the alley. She is surprised to see it is Security Master Zorobo.
“Zorobo— brother? I am glad to see it is only you. I had thought—,”Kotoro begins to say.
With unbelievable speed, Zorobo darts to where Kotoro is standing. Kotoro barely has a moment to realize what is happening, before Zorobo is behind her. He pins Kotoro against his chest and presses his sword to her throat.
“I want to know who you met this evening,” Zorobo hisses into Kotoro’s ear. “Tell me, and I will beg the Monoch to spare your life. Defy me, and you will die…Horribly. Make no mistake, Kotoro. What I speak is the truth. I will kill you. And I will enjoy it. I warned you about Sotet. I told you, he would make you weak. You chose him over our family’s honor. Over many world cycles of tradition. Now, if you choose…You may die for him. The choice is entirely yours.”
Kotoro sighs deeply and raises a wing to her throat. She caresses Zorobo’s wingtips. The very wingtips inside which the sword at her throat rests. Closing her eyes, Kotoro utters what she fears are her final words.
“You will do what you feel you must do, Zorobo. What you have always done. But know this…,” Kotoro trills softly. “I have always loved you. And I never betrayed our family honor. I tried to preserve it. To give our family name meaning again. I am sorry if you could never understand that.”
Zorobo releases a grunt and draws the sword away from Kotoro’s throat. He whirls her to face him. Kotoro opens her mouth to try to reason with him again, and he plunges his sword deep into her chest. Kotoro’s eyes widen and she sighs with pain and disbelief. As she slumps to the ground, Zorobo catches her before she falls; and guides her to a nearly prone position atop the emerald pavement. He holds Kotoro’s body against his own, as she breathes her final breaths, a cruel grin spreading across his face.
“You have made you choice,” Zorobo trills. There is a tinge of joy in his voice. “And now, your children will serve the Monoch without reservation. As they should.”