Emil

Decim opened a hidden hatch located to the left of backstage.

How many hidden doors are in this damned place? Emil took a deep breath, readying himself for another adventure down a claustrophobic passage. Baer’s men were already dropping into the hidden opening unprompted. A steel ladder led the way down into a lightless abyss. Emil lowered himself in, grabbing tightly onto the ladder rungs as he began his treacherous descent.

The walls around him were absurdly narrow. Emil was hardly the biggest person around, and even he could barely stretch his elbow outwards without touching stone. He had no idea how Baer would fit.

Dank, moldy musk clung by the walls. Claustrophobia began to gnaw at his sanity. The darkness only exacerbated his fear. Emil swallowed nervously. Sweat drenched his palms. He could feel the panic rising to his chest, begging to explode. Don’t make a fuss, dammit. He bit on the side of his lips until a vague taste of iron caressed his tongue. The accompanying pain helped distract from this wretched scenario of being cramped underground with a bunch of criminals.

After an oppressive eternity, he finally stepped on solid ground. His legs, shaky from the descent, wobbled as he took a second to adjust his balance. The bottom of the ladder was pitch-black. He could vaguely make out the silhouette of the Nostra members directly in front of him from the vestiges of light leaking from above. Once his senses settled, he found himself assaulted by a putrid stench. The foul miasma hung in the air, heavy and concentrated, seemingly permeating the entirety of the space around them. Emil grimaced. Where the hell are we?

“Anyone got a torch or something? Or are we all just going to stand here and look at each other in the darkness?” Decim’s voice resounded behind him. There was a frantic shuffling of clothes and hands, before several lights came alive. Emil squinted from the sudden brightness. They were inside what appeared to be a cavern, flanked on all sides by earth and stone.

“Whoever’s in the lead, keep to the left. Don’t stop until you reach the end of the corridor.”

The group moved in accordance to Decim’s instructions. Once they arrived at the end of the corridor, they found a massive wagon. Atop of it was a pile of luminous stone, radiating a subtle cerulean blue. Specks of azure bounced off its surface, flickering, lingering in the air amidst the torches’ dim flames. Shrouded by darkness, the ethereal spectacle was breathtaking.

Emil nearly gasped. No way. It’s here!

“Gentlemen, the most coveted ore in this nation. The source of the nobility’s stifle. The makers of the royal family’s fortune. And the fuel behind the Exalted’s powers,” Decim declared, admiring the otherworldly stone with trembling eyes, “This is Azurite, the ore that stores mana.”

His words echoed in the air. Emil tried to control his excitement. The highly concentrated mana in the air was intoxicating. His body soon settled into a trance-like state, drunk on the feeling of tranquility bestowed in the presence of the stone. He never seen Azurite in this quantity before it. His mind felt light, powerful, as if he was imbued with authority.

“…This is what Steiger was looking for, wasn’t it? We had it this entire time?” Caiside asked in awe.

“Yes. It was stolen from them by another Nostra executive with some help from our client. The surviving members from that raid were the ones who served you dinner tonight,” Decim explained, “Aside from them, only you and the executives know about this. If word got out that Nostra was the one who stole the Azurite, Steiger would have teared our syndicate apart.”

“Why take such a risky job?” Emil asked, unable to hide his curiosity.

“Money, of course. Our client gave us a hefty commission to process and purify this cache, along with a small portion of the Azurite. The assets gained from this job would allow us to finally break the three-way gridlock between us, Grenze, and Aois Nua. The day when Nostra rules the entirety of the slums is just on the horizon," Decim explained, "But personally, I took on the job because I’m an Exalted. For us, Azurite is our lifeline. Without it, we’re no different than regular Ordinaries, except burdened with the knowledge that we could be so much more.”

Emil nodded. He could understand Decim’s sentiment to a degree. Stripping an Exalted of their Gift was like cutting off the wings of a bird. It was the source of their identity, their joy, and the very essence of their being. Most Exalted who become deprived of their Gifts usually went insane over time. Some quickly resorted to suicide to free themselves from the feeling of loss. Others would commit the most heinous of crimes to obtain a single fragment of Azurite, abandoning everything just to feel the rush of their otherworldly powers once more.

For the Exalted, Azurite was a more potent drug than anything the syndicates could procure.

“Well, that’s enough talk. It’s time to work,” Decim ordered the members closest to the wagon to grab it, “Our client expects a timely delivery. They will be meeting us at the destination. Torch bearers will be on the perimeter. Baer and Caiside will bring up the rear. Miles and I will remain on the vanguard.”

***

The delivery is happening tonight.

The thought boomed in Emil’s head as he advanced down the dark passageway. Decim hadn’t revealed where they were going, only delivering short bursts of instructions each time there was a split in the path. The meandering routes were nauseating to navigate—the absence of light and lack of distinct landmarks made these networks of tunnel feel like a labyrinth. Everything was beginning to look the same, morphed into same amalgamation of earth and stone.

Emil already gave up trying to keep track of their positions. However, now that he confirmed Nostra had the Azurite, he needed a way to communicate its location to Steiger.

I didn’t get a chance to report with Van last night. He frowned at the timing of the events. His fight against the Aois Nua Exalted had taken him out of commission for most of the day. Everything was unfolding too fast. I have to create a signal once we’re back on ground level, and hope that another agent is close by to see it.

“Take a left.”

Emil obeyed, rounding the bend of the corner. His torch suddenly flickered, the flames wavering with a loud whoosh. There was faint breeze against his skin. He could hear the sounds of water running nearby.

Where the hell are we? He paused, squinting his eyes to strain out the faint vestiges of the underground tunnels.

“It’s fine, Miles. Keep going,” Decim insisted, pushing him forward. The end of the bend led to a wide subterranean chamber. The source of the pervasive stench suddenly became clear.

In front of him was a large trough, about fifty meters wide, filled to the brim with viscous goo. Trash, wooden planks, fragments of miscellaneous items were scattered about, partially submerged in the foul mixture, still flowing downstream.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

They were atop of a concrete platform. Across the trough on the other side was a similar structure. From the torches’ light, Emil could make out a series of passageways along the walls similar to the one they had just arrived from.

“What is this?”

“Sewers. It’s a conduit for carrying waste and water. Especially useful during periods of intense rain to contain flooding,” Decim explained, “They date back to Ardair’s founding. Currently, they’re abandoned.”

Does the witch know about this? The endless branching paths made his head spin. Mapping out and navigating this underground system must have been a herculean task. This must be how the syndicates managed to evade Steiger’s eyes.

“You’re telling me someone built this?” Emil glanced at the ceiling. They must have been several dozen meters underground. This wide conduit and concrete structure seemed to stretch endlessly into the abyss.

“This labyrinth sprawls the entirety of the Lower Dannan slums. Impressive, isn’t it? Too bad the royal family has no interest in it,” Decim said with a wicked smile, “The original founders of this land were architects. Builders. Visionaries. When Azurite was discovered in the mines in the northern mountains, however, those builders abandoned their creativity in exchange for pickaxes. Rather than hone their craft, they became obsessed with the arcane.”

“Sounds like they carried that obsession through time,” Emil commented, “Dannan’s industrial district has the best builders in Ardair, and I doubt any of them could even fathom something like this.”

“Well, I don’t blame them. Who wouldn’t be fascinated with the thought of weaving the elements with their will? You’ll understand if you ever have the fortune to awaken a Gift, Miles. This sensation is enthralling,” Decim said, his voice quivered with glee, “Power courses through your veins. Phenomena bends at your fingertips. You feel like a God amongst men.”

Oh, I understand plenty. Emil sneered. For once, he was glad that he was at the vanguard where his expression couldn’t be seen. A dull pain buzzed from his burns as he walked—a constant reminder of his defective status. For him, this Gift was both a blessing and a curse.

“Alright, stay vigilant now. We’re not the only ones using these sewers. Grenze and Aois Nua roam these tunnels as well.”

The ensuing silence was suffocating. Emil kept his eyes peeled, scanning the vicinity for any abnormalities. The flames of his torch flickered with every hint of a breeze. The stream of sewage continued to flow downstream beside him—the sound of water flowing a constant cacophony.

Footsteps of the group echoed across the labyrinth. The massive wagon transporting the heavy cache of Azurite creaked with every bump and drop in the concrete. Emil winced, scrutinizing every passageway they came across. If there were enemies in the area, they would have definitely heard their approach.

This is nauseating. The stench was overpowering. Sweat poured down his back. His attention was strained to its limits as he struggled to keep track of all the miscellaneous sounds and movements in the surrounding.

Thunk!

Emil spun to the side and immediately raised his shield towards the direction of the sound. A barrage of iron bolts bounced off the metal surface with dissonant clanks. The voracity of the attack startled him as he staggered backwards.

“On the left! Arbalist!” he shouted. A group of enemies emerged from one of the passages ten meters ahead. The wagon grinded to a halt as Nostra members on the perimeter readied for combat.

Decim brandished a knife. With a quick swipe, he made a clean incision on his hands. Blood poured from the open wound. He instantly snapped his fingers, seizing control of dripping blood and morphing it into thin needles. After a wave of his hands, the blood needles flew, burying themselves in the bodies of the interlopers.

The labyrinth fell silent. The confrontation barely lasted a few seconds.

“Miles, you alright?” Decim asked with narrowed eyes, “Do I need to move you to the back?”

Emil was heaving loudly. The injuries from last night continued to be a source of discomfort. “…No. I’m fine. My senses are still sharp,” he replied before resuming his position as the vanguard.

Small skirmishes continued to occur sporadically each time they bypassed one of the passageways branching along the walls. A few of Baer's men fell in combat. Decim callously ordered them to be abandoned, much to Baer's dismay. They couldn't afford to stop.

Their journey lasted for another hour.

“Turn left. We’re almost here,” Decim said. Emil obliged. Eventually, he found a ladder and makeshift elevator at the end of the corridor. This must be the spot. He breathed a sigh of relief. Tension had stretched his mind like a taut rope. Finally, he could relax and freed his senses from being on constant alert.

“Load the Azurite onto the platform in chunks. Emil and Baer, remain on standby until everything is lifted up to the surface. Caiside, you’re in charge of making things run smoothly,” Decim quickly delegated tasks before ascending the ladder.

Baer’s men immediately got to work, carrying fragments of the Azurite onto the wooden platform under Caiside’s orderly commands.

Now I need to find an opportunity to make a signal. Emil took another deep exhale to quell his frazzled nerves. This dreadful night was just beginning.

***

Emil climbed to the top of the ladders. Finally, he could escape the headache-inducing stank of the underground sewers.

As he reached the surface, he immediately noticed the sharp ferric tang in the air. The faint groan of steam-powered machinery hummed in the background. The ambient temperature was absurdly hot, like he had stepped into a center of a fire pit.

“Good work, Miles,” Decim was there to greet him.

“Where are we?” Emil asked, taking in the sight, awed of the massive machineries moving about.

“A Nostra processing facility,” Decim said, smirking, “Looks familiar? Drugs and prostitutes aren’t our only sources of business. As residents of Lower Dannan, it’ll be foolish not to be involved with metallurgy and metalworking in some capacity.”

Is this somewhere in the industrial district then? On Emil’s right was an array of blast furnaces. Flames crackled from within, producing plumes of ashen smoke that bellowed to the ceiling. The occasional clink of hammers resounded nearby.

There are laborers still working at this hour? It was almost midnight when they left Decim’s auditorium. No matter how outrageous their work ethic was, the workers of Lower Dannan were still human. Curious, Emil stepped closer into the workshop section of the facility.

His eyes widened in horror.

The laborers were there, standing hunched back, lifting hammers wielded by their scrawny arms. Their bodies were thin, nearly skin and bones. Their taut skin was smeared in ash and soot. Their eyes were blank, worn by fatigue, decorated by heavy bags clouding beneath their lifeless gazes.

Children.

The workers of this Nostra facility were all children.

“Move!”

Emil turned to the source of the voice. An adult male suddenly shoved one of the children to the ground. The boy, who looked barely ten years old, laid pitifully on the floor.

“I said move, dammit!” The boy remained unresponsive—his eyes were wide open, blankly staring off into the distance, but his body was frozen still.

“Get him out of here!” the overseer roared as a pair of Nostra members emerged to drag the poor boy out of the workshop.

Emil watched the scene unfold in disbelief. His insides churned. It took every ounce of willpower to stop himself from rushing to the overseer and tear his throat apart.

“Miles, what are you doing?” Decim suddenly asked.

Emil spun around. Before he realized it, his hands were on Decim’s collars.

“What is the meaning of this?!” he screamed. The sound of his voice travelled far along the resonant walls of the facility. Footsteps stomped close as he was instantly surrounded by Baer’s henchmen.

“This?” Decim raised an eye, unfazed by his hostility. Then suddenly, he sighed. “Ah, I see what this is about.” Decim fell silent, calmly brushing away the stray hairs covering eyes.

Emil blinked. Without warning, a fist torn into his chest. The strike flung him backwards. Thunk! Warm steel slammed into his back. He slumped against the ground, head rattling from the devastating blow. How did I not see the attack? His lungs were ablaze as he gasped for air from the sucker punch. Decim’s voice echoed from above.

“You know what I hate the most? Fools with a misplaced sense of justice. Unfortunately, I had a feeling you would be one of them, Miles. I saw it in your eyes when I took you to those whores on the block on your first day. There was pity. Empathy. Anger.”

Decim grabbed him by the top of his hair. Emil grimaced at the scalding pain. His scalp felt like it was being pried apart.

“Maybe you forgot because you were fortunate enough to leave the slums, but here’s what you ‘normal’ folks don’t understand. This place is a shit hole. These children and those whores you saw before—they chose to be here. Because the only other option is to die a slow, agonizing death in a ditch somewhere as the crows peck at your lifeless body,” Decim spat. His glacial eyes were filled with disgust. “Lock him up somewhere. Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid while the clients are here. I’ll deal with this later.”

Decim stomped away. The rest of his men approached Emil with apprehension, grabbing his limbs to make sure he couldn’t resist.

Emil glared at Decim’s fading back. His heart raged with indignation.