Twoya, The Seep and Pour, Table-3
Dhana checks her disguise once more before exiting her private carriage, a blue filter changes her purple hair to a dull red, the normally red tips now shine as if oiled. Her face is treated to an elongation of nose and chin. The same blue filter used on her hair also dulls her eyes from green to yellow.
This subterfuge isn’t for the people she’s meeting, they know her face well. It’s a stipulation of the Free’er that the faces of the chosen ones can never be revealed to the filth calling themselves human.
It’s times like these that Dhanashree has doubts about her actions. All of these pointless rules, demanded by their lord and master, each one subtly chipping away at their humanity. Then there’s the seven sacraments, there’s nothing subtle about them, they dehumanize themselves and their victems with each repetition. It disgusts her to perform those acts, but participation is required, supposedly to cement trust in one another and to prove they alone are above all others. Sharing these disgusting taboo vices is supposed to create bonds. Forcing herself to act as if she enjoys them is the catalyst for her nervous habit of singing and rhyming. Furthering her resentment of the acts, she must hide her nervousness, so she masks the involuntary tell by singing and rhyming all the time. A practice that is only tolerable by the obvious annoyance is causes the others. Their every meeting is mentally draining and feeds her self-loathing. At least this meeting is in a neutral public place where everyone should behave like people.
Entering the eatery she scans the room for anomalies. Seeing no one, she waits.
A server approaches and asks, “May I help you?”
Catching Dhana’s eye is a man wearing a shirt with a pattern made of tiny cats.
Dismissing the attentive server, “Never-never mind, I see him now.”
Swerving through the maze of triangular tables joins the man in the cat shirt.
“Tepey-Te-Tepey, nice-shirt.”
“I knew I’d catch shit for the shirt, but it sure made it easier to make contact, didn’t it?”
Reminding herself, Tepeyollotl was put in charge of running the coming war, for his thinking. Setting aside his Jaguar idiosyncrasies, everything he does is for a reason. Dhana takes one of the remaining two seats.
Neither have to wait long before a pale woman with white hair and grey eyes takes the last seat without uttering a word.
Tepey takes a long look at each of them before smiling, “Well, it wasn’t me. Would either of you like to deny it?”
Yara is first to respond, “Of course it wasn’t you. I can’t help but notice that you put up an audio barrier the moment I sat. That means you didn’t invite Trebor, the obvious culprit.”
Dhana objects, “We don’t know if he di—d it. While the evidence suggests his involve—ment, he had nothing to gain. For that matter, not a one of us… is-aligned, to profit from, her-untimely-demise.”
Yara scoffs, “Suggests? Trebor runs a team of assassins that specialize in locked room murders. He’s the only one of us that could have ordered her execution.”
Tepey adds, “He runs the team, but he also dispatches them on behalf of others. Perhaps one of you two paid to have her killed.”
Yara scolds, “Tepey, you’re a fool! You obviously called the two of us here to conspire against Trebor. Why should we believe your innocence? You’re the youngest of us, with two of us gone in as many months, the Free’er may begin recruiting once again. You probably think that would make us respect you more. Trust me when I say our disrespect has nothing to do with your lack of tenure.”
“Do you think it’s a coincidence that two of our number have died so recently? The rumor everyone accepts is that some student Defender killed him, True-Spirit or not, it’s hard to believe the strongest of us was killed so easily; and we have no idea who infiltrated Rätsel’s private quarters of the temple and tortured her to death.
“I can’t ignore that there could be a connection between their dea…?”
Dhana talks over Tepey, “You cannot possibly… connect the two. Yellow was a… ego—maniac, that-went-out-of-his-way… to-attack, a trained-defender, possessing a True—Spir—it. And an exceptional-spirit-it-is! We-all-felt… his vow, to protect! …I-was-actually-touched… by… his-sin—cerity.”
Tepey fires back, “Is that it, he flipped you with his sincerity, so you killed Rätsel?”
“That had-to-be, the work of Tre—bor!”
Looking at Tepey, “…you believe, that-too… or-you’d, brought him… with-you.”
Nerves on edge, Yara derails the two bickering disciples by changing the subject, “Tepey, what made you choose this spot? We all live in Anapa, and you choose this hole in the wall a continent away?”
Happy for the chance to show how far ahead he is in identifying their enemies, “You’ll learn in a few minutes when two of the three people Rätsel recently issued kill orders against will be having lunch here.
“I thought this would be a convenient way to show you who they are.”
“You picked this place so we can look at some trash?”
Tepey laughs a full bellied laugh, “Yara, you spend too much time sequestered with your sycophant priests. This world is no longer populated by grey complected ravenous murders. They’ve come a long…”
The three disciples all fall quiet at the same time as a group of four enter the bistro together.
There’s a giant man with black hair and a crooked nose, who stands a head taller than everyone in the restaurant. A skinny man with blue hair, and a prominent limp. A third man of average height, jet black hair with gold tips, and bright red eyes. The fourth member of the group looks childlike in the presence of these men, she has shoulder length black hair with green highlights which perfectly match her eyes.
But their physical traits aren’t what makes them stand out, the giant and small girl are wearing full Defender battle gear.
Tepey unnecessarily cautions, “Do not attempt to surveil those two, my every agent that’s tried has been caught within moment of deploying a machine. Use passive observation only.”
Annoyed, Dhana quips “You think us… as clumsy… as your a—gents?”
Flatly, “Yes, but don’t take that as an insult. I trained many of them myself and when it comes to surveillance, I held nothing back. I even shared techniques I learned from Trebor. Those two defenders were trained by the best of the best and I think they have another advantage.”
Yara interrupts Dhaha before she can sing another insult, “What advantage would that be?”
“They are in love.”
“Please, that is nothing new. Surely there’s something more you wanted to share?”
“It’s well known in many cities across South Cenoka that they are in love, because they speak the words to one another publicly everywhere they go.”
Twoya, The Seep and Pour, Table-7 & 8
Combining two tables to make a square eating surface, “That’s why I love her so much. She adapts and doesn’t allow us to get entangled in situations that are impossible to escape.”
Sighing, Luscin address’s her overindulgent husband’s assertion, “All I did was say we need to focus on our Defender roles. We can play-fight on special occasions, but we have bigger responsibilities. We can’t let Malo carry this burden on his own.”
“Yes, but I didn’t know that I wanted that too, I was too caught up in maintaining the status quo to think about the big picture.”
Teum realizes they’re standing in the middle of a crowded bistro and that most everyone is openly watching and listening to their conversation. Rubbing his face to partially hide his embarrassment, “But that’s enough about us, you two wanted to discuss something. Let’s sit and place our orders before getting down to business.”
Teum and Luscin take the seats next to one another that face the door and wait for their guests to take the others. Promptly their server takes their food order and serves everyone chilled water.
Luscin starts the conversation, “Machine Master, I’m glad to see you’re nearly recovered from our duel.”
Embarrassed, “Thanks for going easy on me Master Lael-Fox. My friends call me Sheen, it would please me if you did too.”
When Luscin and Teum received the invitation to a midday meal with Machine Master and Perfect Technique they had no idea what to expect. Neither expected it to be a casual affair and certainly not friendly.
“I would like that, and you may call me Luscin. I’ve not yet been raised to full Defender status as of yet, the Master honorific is not mine.”
Their other guest speaks up, “Master Lael-Fox it would honor me as well if the two of you referred to me by my casual name, Nique.”
Luscin wonders if they both took blows to the head, they acted like single-minded stupid-faced idiots during both of their previous encounters. Now they seem human.
“Ok, that would be nice, but if you insist on using our titles, I am Master La Fox. The French prefix is to honor a teacher that meant a lot to me. His legacy is just one of the many things we are fighting for.”
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
The conversation pauses as their food arrives. A cast iron skillet with blobs of baked dough, smothered in butter, sugar, and cinnamon is placed in the center of the table, along with a pot of coffee.
Luscin serves Teum, and then both of their guests before taking a double helping for herself, “Honey, I think it’s time we get down to business, do you mind doing the privacy thing?”
“Anything for you, love.”
Twoya, The Seep and Pour, Table-3
Tepey speaks when the conversation becomes incomprehensible gibberish, matching the capability of their own privacy barrier, “Well, what do you think about that?”
Dhana curtly responds, “I’d say we should… kill-them… before-the-word-spreads, but the news, about-the-Love-Tour, escaped the Vorg censors… immediately. It was published-published, in every broadsheet, the-day-after-the-arrest… of the band’s… guitar—ist.”
Yara corrects Dhana, “It was the Tour of Love, and Flavia is the Dead Dragon’s lead vocalist.”
Snickering, Tepey accuses, “So you’re a Dead Dragon fan girl now?”
“Hardly, I know these things because I’m literate and read. Plus, I did some research before dispatching a crew to rough them up for defiling my church’s name.”
“Ok, we can all agree there’s nothing to be done about the recent expansion of language. What about the people using said language?”
“I stand… corrected, on the-tour-name. As for the people, it’s hard to-judge-their-strengths; the two with their backs to the door are strong… but nothing special. The two-defenders… “
continuing flatly, “they have elaborate spirit cloaks, more elaborate than any of us bother to use or require. They mentioned that they are to assist a person called Malo.”
Dhara continues liltingly, “Yara? Remind me. To what-study… did-the-boy… with-the-True—Spirit-go?”
“As you know, that would be Mammatus Study.”
Nodding towards the other table, “The crest on both their uniforms is a cloud, they are from the same study. I agree that it is safe to assume they are allies of the one with the True-Spirit.”
Tepey prods for more, “You both are missing something subtle. It’s a thing we are used to feeling but does not belong here.”
Yara arches an eyebrow, “I’m not feeling any… oh! Who?”
Dhana adds, “I feel it too! Who here, could be carrying… documents! With-an-emperor’s seal?”
Tepey sits back and steeples his fingers as he’s seen Trebor do in similar circumstances, “The woman, Luscin carries it in a silver-lined pouch tucked inside her uniform.
“It took a lot of effort to attain that information. I ran out of agents casually bumping into her for a quick grope in less than a week, she just-about knows them all by name now. To find out where on her person she keeps it, I had to enlist local help from Twoya’s reigning crime family. They were very efficient, I see why Trebor outsources these things.”
Unaware that she was mirroring Tepey, Yara sat back and steepled her fingers, “Ok, this is not what I expected at all. What document could she carry, is it the reason for the kill order? Or did issuing the order get Rätsel killed?”
Tepey shares, “Before Yellow was killed, Rätsel received a report from her agent Cairn. Her agents in El’Hat were eliminated by those two. It’s been verified that the girl once worked for Yellow, but she might have been a double all along. Before Cairn could ascertain who, he was killed.”
Yara leans forward too, “How exactly were you seeing reports from her agents?”
“You forget I worked for Trebor for twenty years before I ascended. I picked up some spy craft in that time. I think the bigger issue is, how come people that cross those-two end up dead.”
Undeterred, Dhana leans forward too, “I’d ask how many agents you’ve inserted into my house, but I already know.”
“Yes, that was obvious from the information you feed them. That’s part of the process, the information you withhold tells us plenty. But that’s not what we are here to discuss.”
Before he could continue, Teum’s voice cut through the noise.
Twoya, The Seep and Pour, Table-7 & 8
Addressing Nique, “So, you’re saying you don’t know the real identity of Luchador, the duelist who taught you the spirit technique. I guess it doesn’t really matter, now you know not to trust him.”
“Your mid dual advice probably saved both our lives. All it would have taken was one other duelist who knew that techniques weakness and we’d both be dead.
“I wish I knew his motivation, for deceiving us. You said he might have been using us as bait to get you to expose your spirits. I think he was testing you two, to see if you’d go for the easy kill.”
“Well, that may be, but that’s not who we are. We are Defenders.”
Luscin quietly says, “Master’s Remon, Finner, and Ta Raha were Defenders too. They would have taken the easy kill.”
Teum remains silent for half a minute as he recalls those battles before disabling his privacy machine and shakes off his growing ruminations.
Returning to his upbeat self, “I’m so excited to have you two onboard. We can accompany you to Mammatus and introduce you to the faculty tomorrow.”
Luscin asks, “Do you two fly?”
Sheepishly, Sheen explains, “I can with the use of one of my machines, but Nique here is fast travel only.”
“That’s ok. It will take at most two days for you guys to get there. When you do, get rooms at one of the hostels near the study and we’ll meet you in three days.”
The four stand up; each leaving some coins on the table and wind their way between the other dining guests. They exit the bistro; the bell on the door makes a final jingle as the door clicks shut.
The restaurant goes silent for a moment before a buzz of voices bursts in excitement. Comments fly fast and furious as the patrons who had been holding in their excitement.
“Did you see who that was?”
Are they forming a new fighting alliance?
“I think they were recruiting Machine Master and Perfect Technique.”
“He’s so tall and cute!”
“They could teach the students so much.”
“They must be forming an alliance!”
“I hear they’re friends with him.”
“My daughter won’t believe I saw Fighter-Fox!”
Twoya, The Seep and Pour, Table-3
Dhanashree is shocked as the room’s sudden transformation. She knew her table was acutely aware of the two defenders at the other table, she had no idea the entire room was just as attuned to their presence. Is it because of their time as professional duelist or something else?
Tepey and Yara know why because they felt it too. Those two, even with their elaborate spirit cloaks, are something special. They hide it as best they can, but their True-Spirits shine too bright to be veiled by a shield, no matter how elaborate.
City, Province of Rebirth
Lady Terara is about to face her second most dreaded meeting of her week. The twins had originally wormed a daily appointment onto her schedule, luckily her day is now full enough for her to claim not having time for them more than once a week. They angled for a full hour to replace the quarter hour daily appointments, she reluctantly settled for half an hour. If nothing else, being rude to them is amazingly cathartic. Maybe today’s nonsense will allow her to get creative.
Throwing herself back into her work allows her to put off thoughts of the coming unpleasantness. The unfortunate side effect of keeping herself busy, the time went by far too fast, and she’s soon interrupted by a tap on her partially open door. Her secretary’s head breaches the opening, yellow and orange tight curls giving her head the appearance of a bouquet of flowers.
“Your weekly test of patience and understanding has arrived, can I send them in, or do I have to bare their presence for a bit longer?”
“No need for us both to suffer, you may send them in, Susan.”
Efron and Samir strut into the office and take up their posts in front of her desk and start speaking simultaneously, “Here us out.”
“Samir has a business proposition but first I was to share the numbers you requested last week.”
Interrupting Terara insists, “Most people would write a report and send it ahead of time, so we don’t have to recite every number. Hold up while I get a fresh notebook.
“I believe I asked what the rate of attrition looked like. How bad is it?”
“It’s bad and good in a most unusual way, allow me to explain.
“I only have solid numbers for the last four months, four months ago we lost 138, three months ago we lost 132, two months ago we lost 127, and last month we lost 122 ships.”
“The number is declining, that’s good. What’s unusual about precautionary measures working to mitigate losses?”
“Let’s nip that in the bud, most of the sea captains openly laughed at our suggestions and the ones that didn’t, silently ignored them.”
Not liking to have to ask, “Then to what do you attribute the declining losses?”
“The enemy knows our shipping disposition better than us. I’ll explain why I said that.”
“Before our ships started disappearing in massive numbers, we had no idea how many ships we had in the water. As of four months ago we were able to compile a list of sea-faring fleets on the Cantial Ocean.
“As of four months ago we had 3,347 ships, not all in use, some were in dry dock for repair others were simply not needed. At the end of the month our shipping capacity was reduced by 4%, leaving us with 3,309 ships. At the end of the next month we lost fewer ships in fact we lost exactly 4% again. The following two months have been the same, and I suspect we will lose exactly 4% again this month.”
“That’s not just unusual, that’s scary. You’re telling me these attacks are measured to reduce our capacity by exactly 4% each month? No more, no less?”
“The evidence suggests precisely that. Which leads me to Samir’s proposal.”
Samir clears his throat before beginning, “I have two if time allows it. Since we can predict the rate of loss is capped at 4%, we should keep a close count of the total and hold our most valuable shipments until the predicted number is reached.”
Nodding along, “That sounds like it’s worth pursuing.
“What’s you’re second proposal?”
Licking his lips nervously, “Since we understand the financial risk, I’d like to propose issuing indemnity certificates.”
Suspiciously, Lady Terara asks, “Where would we get the money to cover these certificates?”
Glancy at Efron for the bailout he knew would not be coming, “I was thinking we could sell them… to you know… defer the financial liability.”
“Oh, that’s just insurance. I expected you to have something crazy in mind.”
Samir slumps in relief, he was expecting to get something thrown at him, instead she seems open to the idea.
“We can sell these certificates and pass the cost down the supply chain. That of course will raise prices, of course they’ll already be rising because of the loss of goods. What’s a little more to the people of Rebirth?”
Efron takes a half step backwards as she continues, “I’m sure you’ll be able to assess the proper payouts based on the actual value of the loss. We can’t be buying everyone new ships when they’re losing their oldest, most decrepit ships, now can we? When we do that going to drive up shipyard prices, but we can pass that expense down too I guess.”
Picking up a rock she uses as a paperweight, “There’s going to be a little fraud I presume but again we can always pass that down to our neighbors and families.”
Rolling the rock in her fingers, “You’re proposing we profit off the loss of our countrymen at the expense of the community we rely on to produce all the goods we use to live in comfort?”
Slamming the rock on her desk, “We’re losing ships, our customers are losing goods. These circumstances are already driving up costs, hiding those losses in a ledger will not make the losses any less, adding another expense will help nobody but the insurance issuer. You’ll remove all the market forces that fairly regulate prices and put it in the hands of bureaucrats!”
Snatching up the rock, “What’s next loaning money and charging interest? No, maybe you think those that are hit hardest should beg for charity! I will not be a part of any industry that emasculates or undermines a person’s self-worth!”
Samir manages to beat Efron out of the room by a step.
The rock slams against the door, hurriedly closed by Efron.
A startled Susan lets out a yelp.
Getting up to retrieve the paperweight, Terara ruefully wishes they would have stopped while they were ahead. If they’re correct in assessing this enemy capable of precisely measuring their fleet and bring it down exactly 4% each month, that implies there is a schedule. A schedule and an incredibly accurate accounting of their shipping capacity.
She seriously hopes it’s a coincidence, whether this month’s loss is three or five percent, that variation would be a relief.
Retaking her seat behind her desk, she double checks the days itinerary and the time. She has less than ten minutes to prepare for her next appointment and it’s a five-minute walk from here.
Gathering her notebooks she stuffs them into her attaché case and prepares for her biggest trial of the week with Anton Brusk, Jgeorg Brusk’s older brother, the patriarch of the Brusk Family.