Vera Salvatore-Verena was not happy. She didn’t appreciate having to deal with problems in person. It had taken years, but she had cultivated agents that should have been capable of handling things like this.
She walked quickly through the hall, her two armed bodyguards walking a step behind her. Vera didn’t bother to glance at the bureaucrats clinging to the walls, looking on in fear. As a group, she and her bodyguards were sufficiently intimidating, and everyone had cleared the way without issue.
Seeing her destination, she waved her hand while using her authority to override the door lock. The two tall doors swung open, and she stalked into the conference room. She locked eyes with the man at the head of the table, and was pleased to see his anger openly displayed. An angry enemy made mistakes.
Stopping at the foot of the table, she said, “Why haven’t the warehouses been transferred? Is it a matter of incompetence, or is it sabotage?”
The man at the head of the table was the director of Bevin Industries, Lord Clifton. Through his late father, his family was a branch house of House Bevin. And he had served House Bevin for over 40 years. That was until two days ago, when House Walker had purchased Bevin Industries. But Vera’s spies believed his loyalties were still with his former masters.
Lord Clifton’s eyes were hard as he stared at House Walker’s proxy. He said, “It will take time to accurately assess the inventory. Until the audit is completed, the warehouses still belong to House Bevin.”
Vera smiled cruelly, and said, “House Walker has purchased them. The contents were included in the price. You, as the director of operations, were given copies of the sale. For you to sit in that chair, and defend the interests of another house, is more than enough evidence to demand a hearing in front of the Economics Disciplinary Board. Are you stalling, so your agents can continue emptying the warehouses of valuables?”
Lord Clifton shot to his feet, and slammed his hands on the table. He shouted, “How dare you! Do you have any idea how long I’ve been in this chair? I am the director of Bevin Industries, and I will run it for House Walker with the same professionalism that I gave to House Bevin for the past 50 years. Everything is proceeding within the confines of the law, and you would do well to watch your words. I may take insult at your allegations,” His voice carried a warning and threat as he finished.
Vera’s cold eyes met his and she replied, “Considering you have only been in that chair for 47 years, I’ll make my own determination as to your competence. Clearly your attention to detail is lacking. You are obviously stalling the transfer of ownership, and I don’t think you have the intelligence to plan this on your own. Who are you working for? Lord Bevin is already running, so who holds your leash now?”
Furious, Lord Clifton shouted, “That’s it! I demand satisfaction! I formally declare a challenge on the grounds of your slander! After I beat you, I want a formal apology from you, along with one from House Walker.” He was pointing his finger across the table, nearly foaming at the mouth in anger. The very thought that some commoner would be spouting lies in his presence was too much for him to stomach. He would show her that he wasn’t the kind of man who would be pushed around.
Vera smiled evilly, and said, “One hour at Arena 3. I already have the location booked. As the recipient of the challenge, I set the conditions. I demand a duel to soul-death. If you win, House Walker will offer a formal apology, and you’ll receive my death tithe. But when I kill you, your house belongs to me. As the wife of a trial initiate, I declare this a House Challenge.”
Lord Clifton froze in place. What kind of mad-woman would demand a duel to soul-death? And hadn’t her husband left house Salvatore? When had he started the trials? What the hell was going on?
Vera watched Lord Clifton’s face slip from anger into confusion, and then into panic. She smiled widely, then said, “One hour at Arena 3. I’ll be waiting.”
She turned on her heel and walked off into the hallway, closing the doors after herself with a wave of her hand. Her silent bodyguards followed along, staring down anyone who looked at them.
When they finally got back into their carriage, one of the bodyguards asked, “I don’t understand. You know that he was planning to hide assets through the paperwork transfer. He was siphoning employment contracts and loan payments. I was there when your agents reported their findings. They didn’t say anything about the warehouses. How did you know about them?”
Vera just glanced at her bodyguard, and said, “Lord Clifton didn’t do anything illegal with the warehouses. They were all transferred without issue. His anger was completely justified.”
The other bodyguard said, “So, then why accuse him of something you know he didn’t do? Why not accuse him of what he is actually guilty of doing?”
Vera responded happily, “Because I’m sure he had a plan for that. He could tie us up in legal proceedings for weeks. Who knows how much damage he could do while we fought for control of the company. Or he might have some other counter that I’m not aware of. It is never a good idea to attack an opponent directly. This way, I could accuse him of something he could feel righteous defending against. It caused him to force a confrontation. Now I can remove him quickly, then get back to work. So, instead of having to waste weeks at the Tower of Law, sitting through tribunals, all the while suffering losses as Lord Clifton dismantles the company from within, this way, I’ll just kill him and take over his house. The contracts he stole will return to my control, and I’ll even get paid for the privilege of ending the threat to my business. In short, he crossed me, so I’ll take everything from him.”
The bodyguards shared a look, then one quietly said, “Damn boss, that’s brutal.”
Vera smiled, then looked out the window of the cab and said, “No. That’s politics.”
-----
Nero didn’t want to kill the swordsman in cold blood. Besides, he needed the man to rat out who hired him. But, he had to make sure the man was really out of the fight.
As Nero walked up, the man shakily said, “I surrender. You don’t have to kill me.”
Nero could hear the fear in the man’s voice. But, in a world with healing magic, Nero was wary of a trap.
He asked, “Why haven’t you healed yourself?”
The swordsman was adjusting one of the tourniquets on his legs, and replied icily, “Your constructs are still in my legs. Was it really necessary to make them so hard to dismiss? And aren’t you supposed to be a fresh level 10? How did you do that?”
Nero didn’t answer. He just kept walking forward. When he was within five feet of the man, he felt the resonance between the little balls of metal he had summoned and his psychic field. The little balls really were still around. ‘Huh, I might have gone a little overboard there,’ he thought.
But Nero knew he didn’t have time for this right now. He had people that were waiting for resuscitation.
Staring down at the man, Nero had an idea. If the swordsman couldn’t even figure out how to dismiss the constructs in his legs, he probably wasn’t very talented with magic. So, Nero pulled his sword and coated it with his center, turning it into an essence blade. The man’s face was hidden behind his mask, but Nero could tell he was just waiting for Nero to get closer.
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It wasn’t difficult to coat the blade in air and heat essence, making small blue flames dance along the steel. Smiling as cruelly as he could, Nero said, “I’ve just spelled this blade with an explosive charge. If you follow my instructions, you’ll live. But if you pull this blade from the tree, you’ll die.”
The man cocked his head to the side and replied, “What are you talking about?”
Nero stalked forward, and raised the fire coated sword. Although the man seemed ready to fight, Nero said, “Don’t move. This will hurt, and you don’t want me to miss.”
The man still seemed confused, and Nero took advantage of his hesitation. Lunging forward, he slammed his sword forward into the man’s shoulder, pinning him to the tree. The man screamed in pain, and Nero hopped back out of reach.
Nero said, “Like I said, if you remove that sword, you die. Just sit there and try not to move. I’ll get back to you in a minute.”
Giving the man one last look, Nero decided that the man bought his bluff.
Turning around, he jogged over to Nick’s body. Looking down, he could see the construct that killed Nick had dissipated, and the massive hole it left was leaking blood and internal organs. Nero held back a retch, and raised his hand to his mouth in horror. The damage was worse than he had feared.
Dropping to his knees, Nero went to work. First, he had to fix the body so that Nick’s soul had somewhere to return to. Then, he could cast the resuscitation spell, and hope that Nick’s soul tether was still intact.
Firming his resolve, Nero cast the internal healing spell form. He was careful to not waste any more center than was necessary, as he didn’t know how much it would take to bring Nick back. It took almost two minutes before he was able to switch over to the standard healing spell in order to rebuild Nick’s muscles and skin. The spells were familiar, and it was actually easier to fix a body that wasn’t alive. Nero tried not to think about Nick’s absent essence field.
Mentally looking over the body with his spells, he decided that it was time to see if his friend was still hanging around. Nero pulled out the book on healing he had in his personal space. He quickly flipped to the chapter covering the resuscitation spell-form.
Kneeling next to Nick’s body, Nero stared at the spell which could bring back the dead. Banishing any doubt, he carefully carved the spell-form. When the spell completed, he felt part of his mind launch into Nick’s body. It was similar to the healing spells, but it wasn’t targeting flesh. Instead of seeing the internal injuries, he saw an empty space. Nero had read about this. He needed to find the tether which led to Nick’s soul.
Looking around, Nero started to panic. The tether was supposed to be obvious, but he couldn’t see it. Fearing he was too late, he closed his eyes and focused. Delving deeper, Nero reached into Nick’s empty soul space, grasping blindly. ‘There!’ he thought.
Nero saw a small foggy tendril leading off into the dark void. He knew he had to be careful. If he grabbed too hard, he could rip it apart and ensure Nick’s soul-death. Delicately, he took hold of the tether, then funneled his center into the spell-form. The spell pulled essence from the surroundings, and everything rushed into the tether. Nero watched the foggy tendril solidify, then start growing. Smiling, Nero increased the flow. When the tendril reached critical mass, it collapsed. As it shrank, Nero could feel the soulspace filling with Nick’s soul. The feeling of his friend was omnipresent, then Nero was ejected like a bullet casing.
Nero fell back, his head ringing. ‘Did it work?’ he wondered.
Coming back to his senses, Nero blinked away the confusion. He sat back up, and looked over at Nick’s body. Like a zombie movie, Nick shot into a sitting position and started hacking. Nero scrambled closer, and started patting his friend on the back.
Nick tried talking through his coughs. “What the hell just happened? Did I just fucking die?” He was patting his chest, feeling the giant hole in his robes. Nick was covered in blood, and was still as pale as a corpse.
Nero didn’t have time to coddle the old man, and simply said, “Yup. But you’re better now. I have other people to bring back, so take a minute, then tell me if I did it right.”
Nick looked up at Nero, and said, “Huh? What do you mean? Do what right? What are you talking about?”
Nero shook his head, then patted Nick on the back one more time. He stood up and said, “Just take a minute. I’ll be back soon. And don’t go near my prisoner.”
Stomping off, Nero went to repeat his performance with Cathleen. The sergeant could wait. Hopefully, he’d get to the man in time.
Completely confused, Nick watched Nero walk off. He glanced over, and saw some dead bodies. Then he saw the swordsman with ruined legs propped up against a tree. Performing a double-take, he noticed the sword pinning the man to the tree. ‘What in the hells is going on?’ he wondered.
The last thing Nick remembered was sitting down for lunch. Then there was some pain, then blackness. At the memory of the void, Nick started shivering. That was death. He had died. No matter how many books he had read about the subject, the actual void was something he wasn’t prepared to face. He NEVER wanted to experience that again.
Nick reached into his personal space and felt around for his custom flask of iced-tea. When he found it, he summoned it and immediately started drinking. The cool tea washed the blood from his mouth. Looking down, he examined his ruined robes and tried to figure out what had killed him. From the looks of it, he must have been skewered by an incredibly large spike of some kind.
He idly wondered how it managed to penetrate his defenses without any warning. While he ruminated, he heard some coughing, then he heard Nero shout, “Wait! It’s me! God dammit woman… maybe next time I’ll just leave you dead.”
Nick looked over to see Nero sitting on his ass, while pulling out a knife from his chest. Cathleen was hacking up some blood, while trying to stand. Nick started chuckling. She must have reacted to being brought back by stabbing Nero. ‘That woman is one of a kind,’ he thought.
Nick watched as Nero tossed aside the unnecessarily large knife, then nonchalantly stamped a healing spell-form into existence. Shocked, Nick watched Nero heal himself as if it was the most normal thing in the world. ‘Is he really that good at healing?’ he wondered.
Looking over at Cathleen, he watched her stretch. She quickly went through some basic moves, checking her mobility. Nick realized that she had provided Nero plenty of practice, and he shouldn’t be surprised at Nero’s odd familiarity with healing magic.
Cathleen looked around, then picked up her spear which had been laying next to her body. She looked around, offered Nick a nod, then narrowed her eyes at the swordsman stuck to the tree.
“Why is that one still alive?” she asked.
Nero had finished healing himself, and stood up. Planting his hands on his hips, he said, “That’s the first thing you say? I bring your ungrateful ass back from the dead, and the first thing you do is stab me. Then you have the audacity to question my actions with the first words out of your mouth? How about you go sit next to Nick and shut up for a minute. I still have to bring back the moron who walked us into a trap.”
Stomping over, Nero started working on Sergeant Wesker.
Cathleen kept her eyes on the swordsman, but walked over to Nick. He was still sitting on his ass, drinking his tea. While keeping her eyes on the subdued assassin, she whispered, “What’s the situation?”
Nick looked up at the crazy woman, and said, “The situation? I’m thinking it’s pretty obvious that we were ambushed somehow. I have no idea what happened, but Nero seems to have won somehow. Now he’s resuscitating us. I’m guessing that once he’s done with Wesker, he’ll probably start questioning the prisoner that he somehow stuck to a tree. That’s the situation.”
Cathleen finally looked down at him. She gave him a stare that would stop water from melting. She said, “Are there any remaining threats? Is our misdirection ward still up? Where is Rose’s body? Was she involved in the ambush? How about you put that big brain of yours to work and start filling in the blanks. Or, you could just sit there and let a kid who awakened a few weeks ago do everything for you.”
Nick grimaced, but forced himself to stand up. Both he and Cathleen turned to see Nero patting a coughing Sergeant Wesker on his back. Nero said something to man, then gave him a final pat on the shoulder. Then he stood up, stretched his back like he had just finished a task which had been a pain in the ass. The young man’s shoulders slumped, and he walked over to Nick and Cathleen.
Nero looked at his two companions and said, “Look, I’ve got like 20% of my center left. I feel like shit. You two are in charge.” Lowering his voice, he continued, “I told the sword-guy that the sword I used to staple him to the tree was spelled with an explosive charge. If he tries to remove it, it would blow up. I need to rest, so you guys do whatever you think is best.”
Turning away, Nero went to lay down next to the small fire Nick had started. It was still burning merrily, as the entire encounter had only started around 15 minutes ago.
Nero laid down, and tried to put everything out of his mind. Everything hurt, and he just wanted to nap. But instead of getting the rest he believed he so richly deserved, he heard the sergeant shout, “Where in the hells is my direction-finder?”
Nero’s eyes shot open, and he stared up into the canopy. ‘And now we’re lost…. I should have seen that coming. I really should have stayed in Dorchester and started my t-shirt company,’ he thought sourly.