Emil

“How are your injuries?” Caiside asked as Emil entered the watering hole.

“Fine. Bearable,” Emil replied curtly, feigning exhaustion from a long day’s work. Decim had given him a day to rest after returning from their client meeting inside Aois Nua’s territory.

The injuries he suffered that night were nothing major for someone who survived Steiger's hellish training regiment. Still, he took the rare opportunity to clear his mind and share his findings with Van. “Miles” was just a regular blacksmith apprentice after all.

“Let me know if you want something to kick off the edge,” Caiside offered with a smile. Today he accompanied Emil as they climbed down to the basement floor of the watering hole. Baer and his men were already there. The brawny leader flashed his signature smile as their eyes met, before stomping towards the back of the room.

“Here we go,” Baer muttered as he pried apart a piece of the wood attached to the wall. It revealed an opening to an underground tunnel, barely high enough for a normal person to fit when crouched. Without being prompted, his men began filing into the narrow passageway.

Like Grenze, Nostra also controlled a hidden network of underground tunnels that connected different locations within the Lower Dannan slums. Today, they were heading towards Decim’s office. The man had called for a special meeting.

I swear these guys have a fetish for staying underground.

Emil winced once it was his turn to enter. He was hardly the biggest person around, but even then, the narrowness of the tunnel was giving him trouble. Claustrophobia clawed the back of his mind. The wet, earthy musk of the tunnel was nauseating. The heavy pants echoing from further down the tunnel only added to his discomfort.

“Miles, nicely done,” Baer, who was behind him, suddenly said.

“…What do you mean?” Emil replied, fighting to keep his voice as steady as possible. Panic was starting to creep into his throat.

“Decim was singing praises for your performance the other day. You should rejoice—he rarely speaks well of anyone. Good stuff man,” Baer said excitedly, “Let me know if you ever get the itch to punch something. I’m always down for a good spar.”

Emil rolled his eyes. Why am I not surprised? Baer was the prototypical muscle head—someone who only thought about strength and fighting. They were simple and obedient if you had their respect, but notoriously difficult to deal with once they got an ego. Emil learned that the hard way dealing with Raz back in the day.

“I was just doing my job,” he said unassumingly. He also learned that projecting a certain amount of indifference always seemed to make them impressed. Maybe they see it as confidence.

After what felt like a grueling eternity, Emil finally arrived at the end of the tunnel. He pried himself out of the musky passageway. His limbs relaxed with relief at having more than an inch of space in his proximity.

He suddenly found himself before a massive subterranean chamber. The area was modestly decorated and furnished generously with an array of wooden chairs and tables. A stage had been built on the far side of the chamber, seemingly designed for an orator to deliver speeches. Calling this an “office” was a gross understatement—this was an entire auditorium.

Decim’s status must be higher than I realized. There was at least one hundred people that could fit comfortably in this underground hall. It seemed excessively extravagant for a common manager of a syndicate.

“Is Decim an executive or something?” he asked. Baer shot him a confused look.

“Yeah. You didn’t know? Decim is one of the highest-ranking members in Nostra.”

“…I see.”

And why the hell did no one tell me?!

Emil’s heart sank as he recalled his boorish attitude over the past few days. In hindsight, perhaps it should have been obvious. Decim had his hands in nearly all of Nostra’s businesses. Above all, he was an Exalted.

Fucking muscle head. Emil gave Baer the side-eye when he wasn’t looking. The man should have been the one to say something when he made the initial introductions.

Footsteps suddenly clacked across hardwood. It was Decim who scrolled onto the stage while clapping for everyone’s attention. The miscellaneous conversations amongst those in attendance immediately silenced in his presence.

“I see that everyone is here. Good. Let us start the meeting,” Decim said as he scanned the audience with a piercing gaze, “The people gathered here tonight have been selected for their track record, competence, and loyalty. I have an important job that must be executed to perfection. It’s a simple affair really, but it’s been made complicated by some nasty rumors going around.”

Decim described the rumors, detailing how Steiger was currently monitoring the slums after one of the syndicates stole something under their grasp. The mere mention of Steiger instantly dampened the air with an unsettling tension.

Emil narrowed his eyes, trying to understand the implications of this new information. Despite Decim’s statement, whispers of Steiger investigating the slums hadn’t reached his ears.

…It doesn’t make sense for the syndicates to be spreading these rumors. They must realize that all they’ll be doing is inviting Steiger to investigate the slums. That's the last thing they would want. Assuming the syndicate leaders aren’t complete idiots, this must the witch’s handiwork.

Emil grinded the inside of his teeth. The witch’s interference was an indirect message that she was getting impatient.

On the other hand, does this mean Nostra isn’t the one with the Azurite? Emil pondered the possibility as Decim continued to explain in the background.

No. It’s possible that Nostra has it, but Decim isn’t aware. He might not be involved with the Azurite business. Nostra would want to minimize information leaks by restricting knowledge about the Azurite to only those who need to know.

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“The job is to deliver a shipment of goods to an important client in the slums. However, with these rumors circulating, our rivals, Grenze and Aois Nua, as well the dogs of Steiger, will all be keeping their eyes peeled on any significant movements. Tensions are a little high. Undoubtedly, there’ll be those who are overeager to attack anything that they see.”

It’s also possible that Nostra has it and Decim knows. This is not something he would reveal to his henchmen after all.

“So, here’s the plan. The delivery will take place tomorrow evening. This group will act as a decoy by escorting a fake wagon of goods to a destined spot. While you guys draw the attention of the onlookers, the actual shipment will occur on a separate route. I will be leaking your decoy route in advance,” Decim explained, “Baer, you’re the commanding leader. Caiside, you’re to assist him as the second-in-command. You should expect combat.”

There is also a possibility that this shipment is the missing Azurite. Emil squirmed at the realization. He wanted to ask what they were helping to deliver, but the question would immediately make him suspicious. Still, if this shipment was the Azurite, letting it slip away would be a huge blunder. Not only it would be in the possession of a new unknown owner, but they would also have to restart their investigations and track it down once more.

This might be my only opportunity.

Emil grappled with indecision as Decim wrapped up the meeting.

“If you do find yourselves under attack, try to hold out until the midnight bell.”

***

Emil sat at the counter of a small bar located in the corner of the auditorium. Decim’s meeting had adjourned. The Nostra members present remained to discuss the details and logistics of tomorrow’s delivery.

At least that was supposed to be the plan.

“To my brethren!” Baer’s rambunctious voice echoed over the auditorium. He raised his hand skyward, holding a huge cup filled to the brim with ale. Against the rambunctious cheers of his men, he greedily downed the cup in a single gulp.

Somehow, I feel like nothing else productive is going to be done tonight.

Emil tried to ignore the cacophony behind him. As he turned away from the festivities, he found a glass filled with vibrant colors waiting for him at the counter.

“…What’s this?”

“Just a small concoction,” Caiside replied, taking his natural spot behind the bar, “Something to shake off the nerves. You look anxious.”

Did I? Emil frowned as he scrutinized the colorful layers of the drink. He didn’t think he was that terrible at concealing his expressions. Perhaps his uncertainty was affecting his composure.

“The color is from juice. There’s some herbal tea, infused with lime and some spices for energy. I added just a tiny ounce of alcohol.” Caiside winked, “A spur-of-the-moment decision. You don’t look like you’re in the mood to drink.”

“Thanks,” Emil replied, slightly wary. He took a sip regardless, not wanting to act suspicious amongst Decim’s most trusted men. The drink was sweet, not overpowering, accented by a slight sourness and spicy aftertaste that went smoothly down his throat. He observed his body for any adverse reactions. Nothing.

“It’s…novel,” he commented.

Caiside let out a laugh, “Never heard that one before. Did it help with the nerves?”

“Not really,” Emil admitted, “But this is normal. Being anxious before doing something dangerous is normal. That—” he thumbed at the festivities behind him, “—is not.”

“Don’t mind Baer. That’s just his way of keeping morale up. After all, some of us might not make it back tomorrow.”

Fair point, Emil thought as he continued to sip on his drink. The route that Decim drew up took them through both Grenze and Aois Nua territories. Grenze might leave them alone, but a fight on Aois Nua’s turf was pretty much unavoidable.

“Here’s the route that the actual delivery is going to take tomorrow,” Caiside suddenly said, producing a folded map inscribed with ink. Emil raised an eye. Why is he showing me this?

“Decim wanted you to know. This is the route that we’re supposed to draw attention away from as the decoy,” Caiside explained as if reading his hesitation.

Curiosity overcame his suspicions as he reached for the map. It was a crude drawing of the Lower Dannan slums. Emil committed the marked route to the memory, trying to reconcile the map with the physical locations.

“Why me?” he asked.

“In case I die,” Caiside shrugged, “Someone else needs to know which routes we need to avoid. Baer is ill-suited for it. I’m usually the brains and he’s the brawn. I guess Decim think you’re the next best thing.”

Decim? This was Decim’s decision? Alarms raised in his head. His hands suddenly grew sweaty. Something about this felt wrong.

Emil tried his luck with a question, “Any idea what we’re delivering?”

“A few carets of sapphire, apparently.”

Sapphire. The word thundered in his head. No way. Emil reached for his drink and took a long, cautious sip. He focused on the sweet and sour flavors of the concoction, trying to distract himself from his raging heart.

Sapphire. It was a gemstone that radiated a blue cerulean hue.

Emil swallowed his drink and asked, “Decim explicitly said it was sapphire?” This question was stretching it. But he had to be sure.

Caiside blinked, as if caught off guard by his bizarre question, “No, actually. He just said it was an expensive blue gemstone. Enough of it to make a fortune.”

There was another stone that also produced a blue glow.

Azurite.

***

What do I do?

Emil leaned against the wall, frustrated, agonizing over his next course of action. He was resting inside his temporary dwellings—a modest room in a cheap inn deep within the industrial district. It was an ideal location for his undercover mission. Nostra’s eyes did not extend this far out of the slums, and the inn was a comfortable distance from the tavern where Mia and Raz were staying. The last thing he wanted was to be recognized by some of the regulars at the tavern.

He replayed the information unveiled this evening. Decim is aware of rumors that something was stolen from Steiger. The suspects are the syndicates. He has a delivery for an important client. The shipment is apparently a few carets of an expensive blue gemstone.

There’s a high chance the shipment might be the Azurite. The timing of the delivery seemed too convenient of a coincidence.

At the very least, it was a solid lead worth pursuing. Given he and Van have already spent a week undercover without making much progress, this information felt like a lifeline.

I should contact him now and get Steiger to make a move. The thought boomed in Emil’s head, but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to take action. A sickening dread stirred in the pits of his stomach. Something continued to gnaw in the back of his mind, begging for him to reconsider.

What am I worried about? What am I missing? His gut feeling warned him that something was off. Emil scoured his memories of being undercover for the past few days, trying to figure out the source of his unease.

Decim’s words suddenly echoed in his head, “The people gathered here have been selected for their track record, competence, and loyalty.”

Emil’s eyes went wide. Then why me? Why was I chosen? Decim’s words might have applied to the rest of the members in attendance, but not him. He was only initiated a few days ago. He had a single instance in Aois Nua’s territory where he demonstrated his competence and loyalty, but that should not have been enough for him to be considered “trustworthy.” At the very least, he should not have been amongst the likes of Baer and Caiside.

Am I overthinking this?

He bit his thumb in frustration, embroidered with uncertainty.

Decim. The answer lies with him. Based of what I know of him, does he seem like the type of person who could trust someone so easily?

“No,” he muttered to himself. He didn’t even need to think about it. The person known as Decim was cunning, methodical, and skeptical. He was conniving. He scrutinized everything. He regularly withheld information—only revealing what he felt was necessary.

And he was constantly testing me.

A snap of clarity flickered in his head.

Oh, I get it now.

The relentless gnawing in his subconscious vanished.

This feels like another test.