In the depths of Drac's mind, sits two. They play chess in a gorgeously designed library. Gold is adorned everywhere. Bookshelves reach high and wide. The chandelier light sparkles across the room.
“What about a fire sword?” Drac makes a move.
Hood looks up from the board. He had his jacket on a coat hanger. His long locs are in full display. How long would it take for Drac’s shortcut to reach his length? “No.” Hood makes a move.
“Why not? A flaming sword that melts through armour like a knife to butter.” Drac makes a move.
“It can also turn my sword into butter.” Hood checkmates Drac.
“Mmm. Didn't think of it that way. I'll revise it.”
“Don't even try it.”
After his 4th loss tonight, Drac stood from his leather chair.
“Running away after a tough loss?”
“Yes,” Drac says bluntly.
He walks to a shelf to peruse through the books. On one of the spines is a title: Fourth target. Another reads The Bodyguard Vol 20.
“This organisation you work for, you never explained.”
Hood folds his arm. “Yes, I didn't.”
“And so…?”
“I can’t explain what I don't know.”
Drac raises his eyebrow. “ You don't know anything about the people you kill for?
“Yes.”
Drac scrunches his eyebrows in confusion.
Hood sighs. He lays back on his chair, looking up as if he’s remembering. “Since I was born, I have been trained to kill. While you were on that farm. I was underground. Made to do drills. Spar every day. Learn to be a shadow. Eating rations. When my handler gave me a chance to graduate and live like him, I took it. I gave my life to the organisation. I thanked my master with my whole soul. Just needed to kill people once in a while and I could eat great food and wear better clothes. After years of service, giving them intel that would help them, guarding their people, killing their enemies, I still don't know their name.”
Drac sits back in his chair to listen.
“The only point of contact was a letter. Teleported by magic. Every letter was about a new target. One day a letter came for my handler. That was when I learned about our calling. I think I was thirteen then”.
Hood sits forward. Looks Drac directly in the eyes. “I don't know who they are, their causes. I am- no We are nothing but their dog.”
“At least you got a lot of money.” Drac tries to lighten the mood.
“It isn't mine. I found it in the hideout. Your hideout. It was probably your handler's funds.”
Drac ruminates on what Hood has told him.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“Why do you want to go to the Capital if you hate them so much?”
“Loneliness.”
Hood resets the chessboard for another match. “Six out of ten?”
Drac wakes up. Sunlight peaks through the leaves. Drac steps out of the tent that the residents of Furling donated to him and stretches his arms. Two Dracs split from him. As he walks to the side to piss, his copies prepare food for the group. One Drac collects oats and a pot from the carriage. Another starts a fire. After finishing his business in the bush, Drac meets Marina at the fire pit.
“Good morning, Lazy. Have a nice sleep?” Marina sits on the ground wearing a white tunic and brown trousers
“It was productive.” Drac sits beside Marina.
“You say the strangest things.” She giggled.
Drac shrugs. “So Foushire is next. Quite the city, I have read.”
“Not nearly as big as The Capital but it is the hub for the northern Aristocrats. Think you could find information about the fattie’s master?”
“Possibly. It will be a tough undertaking since I never did get a name out of the buyer. Although He did mention where the slaves were being sent to and it’s-”
“Foushire! If only I had not demolished the bastard's boat, we could have gotten there faster.”
“True. You shouldn't have that.”
“Fuck off, you the one who told me to.” Marina laughs and hits Drac on the shoulder.
“But I heard that I agreed to YOUR plan.” Drac grinned.
Marina is shocked. “You heard that- I meant to say that we planned together- OH fuck you.” Marina stands up smiling.
“I will wake the sleeping giant. Use those handy copies of yours to learn how to make better food, lazy”
Before daylight breaks from the horizon, an old baron stands on the road. He feels nervous. Nervous for his son. Jac just got him back and he wants to leave. Needs to leave.
Cal rides up the hill to meet his father, followed by 5 five soldiers. All in their best armour and chainmail, red surcoats on top, with a sword and shield emblem. The five have a certain confidence. Their confidence is warranted as they are Jac Stalwart’s veteran warriors. Campaigned for multiple tours, fighting border skirmishes and rebels with the baron. Jac trusted the men of his army. But they aren't the 7th. Only they could be charged with taking care of his son.
“Father…”
The Baron watches his son on the steed, wondering whether she can see him. See how he has grown. But he put those thoughts down, knowing she would see Cal soon.
“Cal. Everything’s packed? Good, good. You were not sighted by the church, were you?” Jac checks the harnesses on Cal's horse.
“No. Gruff and unkept these men may look, they are quite adept at moving silently.”
“Cal. my boy. Trust in these men. Let them watch your back But lead them well. But I don't need to worry about such a thing, you do have my blood.”
Jac steps back from the horse. “Now. Complete your mission. Get the Book. What happens to the bastards is up to your discretion.”
Cal grins. “Yes, Father.”
With his horse, Cal moved back to his Soldiers. Cal fist high shouts “Onward! We ride to Furling!”
Travelling on the carriage. Drac and Marina sit inside. Both meditate on a bumpy road.
“Fuck sake, you think a rich town could afford some proper roads. I’m gonna hit my head on the carriage soon if this keeps up.”.
Drac sits meditating. The shifts in motion don’t deter him at all.
“Show off.”
“Do you get angry whenever someone does something better than you?” Drac grins, eyes closed.
“Angry? you haven't seen me angry.”
So she’s just really loud.
Marina continues “But if you continue making the slop you made yesterday, you'll see me be angry.”
“Then just cook for yourself, Lazy.”
“Hold on there, I was just kidding…” Marina smiles nervously.
Bob knocks on the body of the carriage.
“Looks like we are here.” Drac opens the door for Marina. In the distance, grey stone walls climb higher than any building that Drac has ever seen. A river twists and turns through the wall to exit the other side. Many boats travel its waters, from big sailers to small rowers. At the end of the bumpy road is a large door, the only entrance on this side of the river. They are finally at Foushire.
I remember this place. What a shithole.