Six years ago…

Zuken Banksi resisted the urge to shudder as he stared into the cold, hard eyes of his guest. There was not a speck of emotion in those gray orbs, no love, no hate, nothing. For a man who prided himself in reading faces, it was quite a disconcerting thing indeed. And that was without even considering who the man was.

“What can I do for you?”

The man turned towards his sole companion. “Are you sure he’s the right person for the job?”

“He is the best, Grandfather,” said a twenty-something Ultaf Shimizu. Zuken had known him since his time spent at the Susanoo Shrine in Cyffnar, trying to pick up a very peculiar skill that was seldom used by anyone outside the aquamancer community. A nifty trick that would allow him to develop a rather unconventional terramancy spell.

Ultaf’s grandfather, Mujin, met his eyes. To his chagrin, Zuken found himself almost looking away from his impassive gaze. The White Death, people called him. The most terrifying individual seen since the demise of the man’s own father, the Wind King himself. Staring into his eyes was like gazing into a cold void, and seemed to suck in all the warmth from the room.

Then the man nodded, and Zuken released the breath he had inadvertently been holding. Had it been any other man in his stead, they’d already have fallen to their knees, genuflected and tried to please this titan among men.

Not him.

Zuken, more than anyone else, had a strong resistance against that. He was more than familiar with matching gazes with people with power levels bordering on ludicrous. Being the unwelcome, nugatory child of the Earth King would do that to you.

“Ultaf mentioned you’re in need of my services…” Zuken trailed off.

The man slowly nodded. “You have heard about the recent catastrophe that hit the Shimizu settlement.”

Zuken nodded slowly. Of course he had. More than half of the Shimizu Clan had been massacred in one night. From the oldest half-blind crones to the crying babies still clenched to their mother’s breast, no one had remained untouched from the devastation that night had wrecked upon the settlement. It was not clear who or what did it, but rumor was that it was the act of a kami, presumably a Level-4 given the destructionfest that had followed.

“I’m extremely sorry to hear about that.”

“Right,” claimed the man, “You’re all broken up over the destruction.”

Zuken matched his gaze. “I didn’t order it. I made no money on it. I failed to profit financially or politically from its destruction. And you survived, so Cyffnar didn’t lose the Sacred Eight protection it has enjoyed so far.” He shook his head. “A complete waste.”

They had already taken a measure of each other. He knew precisely how absolutely dangerous the man sitting before him was, and it was why he was making it a point to treat him in as cavalier a fashion as possible. One didn’t show dangerous predators weakness or fear. It made them hungry.

Besides, Zuken was Shogun Naowa’s Wetworks Man, and by extension, an enemy of Cyffnar. So when the high and mighty of Cyffnar had come all the way to see him, cockiness was practically an obligation on the menu.

Mujin’s smile was a wintry thing. “You speak the truth. But we are here on business.” He glanced at Ultaf, who pushed a small cube towards Zuken. A memory projection arose out of it, forming the image of a brown-haired, brown-eyed girl. She had an athletic figure, and given the attire, there was no doubt she was a Shimizu herself.

Zuken stared at the projection. The girl was no doubt a teenager, but would grow into an eye-turning beauty in the future. There was a strength to her face, a strength normally unseen in anyone that hadn’t passed into their thirties.

“What do you want me to do?” He asked, appearing slightly bored. “Kill her?”

“No. We want her alive. Not necessarily unharmed, but alive.”

“And you wish to devote your considerable resources towards finding a teenager instead of taking actions to restore your settlement because…”

“None of your business,” Ultaf growled. “Find the girl. Capture her. Get her back to us. That’s all.”

Zuken looked at him like he was a slow child. “My services aren’t cheap. Just putting it out there. What can you tell me about her?”

“She’s… she’s sixteen. Her ability with Aeromancy is… commendable, and she’s gotten aquamancy training in the past. Her lifeforce reserves are well above-average, and she’s been trained in assassination, seduction, direct combat and espionage.”

“Sounds like a mercenary-in-training. Someone from your own nest?”

Ultaf clenched his teeth. “Yes. We… aren’t sure if she has a kami. Our sources tell us that she’s currently somewhere along the northern Eaborid border.”

Zuken stared at them for several seconds before he said. “Somewhere. Along the northern Eaborid border. That’s as specific as you can be?”

“It’s as much as we know.”

Translation. That was the last place he had heard from his agents before they died. If nothing else, it spoke of the girl’s talents. At sixteen, she was quite a gem to be this talented. It was sad that he’d have to capture her and send her packing to the Shimizu, but work was work.

“For what purpose are you hunting her?”

“Why does that matter?”

“It paints a picture of the girl’s skills. If you want her simply to interrogate her, chances are she’d leave towards Maluscion. You can hide there for years and not be found out. But if there’s anything special about her, something that others might notice, then I can use it to track her better.”

“There… might be,” said Ultaf elusively. “But we cannot trust you with that.”

His eyes narrowed. “Who is she, Ultaf?”

“Her name is Tanya,” Ultaf said, “and she’s my half-sister.”

----------------------------------------

Present Day…

Zuken sat in his office alone, slowly sipping from his glass, as he perused a battered paperback. Unlike his usual habits, this one wasn’t from his Family Library, but an old, translated edition of a nine-hundred year-old text written by a dökkálfar scholar from Karnegrug. Less than five hundred copies had been printed, and the Empire had ended up burning over four hundred and fifty ones. Given how thorough the Empire had been, there was no doubt it contained something worthwhile and dangerous.

Much like the scribblings of Kvasir, most of the books from the Time Before spoke of a different world, a different description of the world’s geography, one that the Empire taught was flawed and wrong. Unfortunately, these books were also the only ones that actually tried to put a scientific rationale behind the existence of gods and goddesses, going so far as to suggest that they weren’t born but made. It was from these materials that Zuken had much help deciphering the mystery of Lukas Aguilar, and he hoped that the same texts would help him find the way to achieve his greatest desire.

That said, if anyone ever found that he had been reading Ulfhednar Edda, he might have to eliminate them. Sinners were hunted by the Cobalt Army, but anyone caught even reading this book would be instantly purged with Empyreal Fire.

And then the Army would go after their families, their friends, associates and even pets. Every single entity associated with this criminal would be instantly ‘purged’ to maintain the sanctity of the Empire.

The perils of living in the Land of Eternal Light.

Zuken was expecting company, so he kept an eye on the door. Because of that, when a nastily familiar face entered, he had time to close the book and slip it discreetly into a private drawer enchanted to be obscured from all five senses and magical scrying. By the time the newcomer abruptly pulled a chair across, and sat down in front of him, Zuken had his glass in hand, leaning back, smiling slightly.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Ultaf Shimizu,” he greeted.

The young man looked at him, his expression firmly blank, and posture relaxed.

“Banksi,” he finally acknowledged.

Zuken recognized the posture. It was the kind of enforced looseness a true professional used, right before they expected to have to suddenly exert themselves. If he had to hazard a guess, it would be that the Shimizu expected the meeting to end poorly.

He couldn’t blame him. Personally, he’d give it four chances out of seven that they’d come to blows before the end of this ‘meeting’.

But he wasn’t fond of violence. On the contrary, he went out of his way to avoid it. Violence was the tool of choice for the unimaginative. So in return, he maintained his own relaxed posture, knowing fully well how dangerous the man in front of him was. He himself was in similar fields of work, and had been for a much longer time.

He was Zuken Banksi. Politeness was part of his arsenal.

“It’s been what… six years?”

Right outside his office, he saw Elena ask for his permission to enter. He subtly asked her to wait. If Shimizu saw the interaction, he wouldn't respond to it. He simply continued to look at Zuken.

“You have her.”

It was a simple statement. An outrageously blunt one, and to the point. There was no doubt who ‘her’ was, and Zuken couldn’t find it in himself to try play dumb in front of another, especially one he respected on a professional level. That didn’t, however, mean that he was going to admit things out loud either. If Ultaf wanted answers out of him, he was going to work for it.

“You’ll have to be more particular than that.”

“Don’t you—!” Ultaf began, and Zuken could actually see the exact moment his jaw clenched down, when his breath became slow and long. He could see him mastering his anger enough to keep it restrained. When he spoke again, his voice was cold and measured.

“So?”

“So what?” Zuken prompted.

“So what is this?” Ultaf demanded. “Are you going to make demands of me? Of Clan Shimizu? After breaking our original agreement?”

“I’m not quite a demanding person, Ultaf,” Zuken said. “A deal for a deal is more to my liking. Oddly enough, I didn’t anticipate any dealings between us when you informed me of your arrival.”

His tone was light. Playful even. He deliberately kept it so. Ultaf had come for a confrontation, and if he didn’t confront him, it’d only make things worse. The trick was to arrange the confrontation in a way that suited his purposes.

Which was why what happened next made Zuken pause.

Ultaf went still.

He was studying him in absolute stillness, and for the first time, Zuken had no idea what to expect. It set him on edge. Made him cautious.

It excited him a bit too.

“Why?”

Another demand.

“Why what?” Zuken asked, cocking his head slightly.

He knew this game. He had been playing this for years. Ultaf couldn’t accuse him directly, because he had no proof. And if he did accuse him, it could at worst become a conflict between two clans, both members of the Sacred Eight. No, the trick was to force Zuken into a confrontation that all but forced the confession out of his throat.

Patience was the name of the game, and the one who spoke first, lost.

“Why,” Ultaf repeated. Zuken had to admit, it was an effective strategy. If he had demanded specific answers, he would have been able to find ways around the questions, would have been able to read him and determine what he was looking for and make sure he could find it.

Now though, he was simply demanding an explanation without providing what explanation he wanted. Zuken had to decide what he would say, and he would be able to judge if that was enough.

"And if I don't?" he asked. Ultaf had defined the contest, now it was time to define the stakes. If his explanation wasn't sufficient, would he attack him?

“Then all negotiations will fail, and my army shall breach Haviskali.”

Ah.

So that’s how it was.

Zuken’s eyes narrowed. He had seen this coming, but had expected a little more time.

Pity.

“Threatening someone while sitting in their house isn’t exactly the best idea, Ultaf.”

“Cut the crap, Banksi,” Ultaf snarled, apparently no longer willing to play mind-games. “I know you have her.”

“Her?”

Ultaf growled. “Tanya. Tanya Shimizu. My sister. Six years ago, I gave you a job contract. Here in this very room. To find her.”

“I’m afraid I disappointed you,” Zuken replied, “I could not find her.”

“Oh I am disappointed,” said Ultaf. “Not because you couldn’t find her, but because you did, and yet, you did not inform me.”

Zuken crossed his fingers on the table, and kept his expression bland. “You have me at a loss, Ultaf. The girl you asked me to capture had brown hair, brown eyes. I’ll admit I do have a ‘Tanya’ working for me, but she has golden hair going white, with bright blue eyes.”

“An aeromancer.”

“Yes.”

“Bring her. I wish to see her.”

Zuken smiled slightly at his demand. “Unfortunately, she’s on a mission right now, a very time-consuming one, I might add. You know how things are with such missions. Why it could be another month before I see her again. The Goddess knows they don’t have enough rations for that long.”

“Don’t play with me, Banksi. She is her. I know it.”

“How?” Zuken challenged. First rule of negotiation. Always check your opponent’s cards. You never know if they are filled with blanks. “Tanya is not an uncommon name. My employee does not have a family, nor any established Clan traits. There is absolutely no proof that this woman is the same Tanya Shimizu you hired me for, all those years ago. A job that led to some of my best men killed, I might add. For all I know, this is your attempt to simply bully me into doing you favors.”

“You dare to—!”

“Yes,” Zuken spoke, a current of warning in his voice. “Your Clan isn’t exactly known for keeping their hands where they should. Do not pretend your Clan is what it used to be, Ultaf. Your King-Class kami, lost to the wilds. Your settlements? Still trying to become a pale imitation of their past grandeur. And here you are, claiming something that doesn’t exist, just to suit your fantasy.”

The previously confident and cocky noble gritted his teeth, realizing that things were moving in a direction he didn’t anticipate or like. No doubt he was going to try something else now.

“I see,” Ultaf said, controlling his tone somewhat, “you’re right. There is no proof that can justify that this Tanya is the same creature we ordered you to hunt all those years ago. After all, we did hide her special traits from you.”

Zuken narrowed his eyes. He was going to have to be careful here. “Which are?”

“Classified!” Ultaf coldly held his ground. “But I have information. Tanya. Golden hair, blue eyes. A vagrant, likely from Baramunz or Karnegrug. Youngest aeromancer in the Llaisy Kingdom to hit Expert rank. Known for mastery at aerokinetic combat. Sinner, infamous for destroying a Class-2 anomaly. Wanted by the Cobalt Army, she remained a fugitive until a special notice from Shogun Naowa freed her from her charges. Does that ring any bells?”

Zuken looked at him in annoyance. “Yes. Same person.”

“She’s the creature I asked you to capture for me. Regardless of proof, I want her. So perhaps, a trade? What do you wish in exchange for this individual? Name your price.”

Zuken stared at him across his steepled fingers. He had already guessed that Tanya’s wind kami was a fully developed Level-3, and was probably bordering Level-4 if not there already. Olfric and the others might have been stupefied from her devastating attack on the Cyffnarian hires in the desert, but as someone in the same business, Zuken had paid more intention to the other things she did.

Maintaining a whirlwind around them for days.

Casual amplification of her pressure-based attack coupled with iron-clad control.

And most importantly, the confident motions of a woman that had taken out an entire battalion in cold blood. Zuken was not being egoistic when he had claimed that ‘Tanya Shimizu’ had killed some of his best hires. The girl on his team was the same girl that had decimated his forces all those years ago.

The real question was— was she the person that demolished the Shimizu settlement? The ‘Tanya’ that worked for him had an ironclad control over herself. But throw that away, and he could well imagine what a kami of that level could unleash on an unsuspecting crowd.

And Ultaf Shimizu wanted the girl. Unfortunately, that was a deal that wasn’t, couldn’t be on the table.

He spoke after a long moment. “I’m not sure if you know this, but I’m not in the business of trading lives, Ultaf. And certainly not people that work for me.”

“If you do not, then my army will march to your gates.”

“You do that and Haviskali would go to war with Cyffnar.”

“Not if we send a formal notice to Shogun Naowa, and the Royal Court. I am even willing to drag the Earth King into this matter. Either way, I will have her.”

The cold smile returned. “Is that what you think will happen?”

The man laid his hands flat on the table and leaned back slightly. “There is no sense in ruining things over this, Banksi. I do not wish to make you my enemy. Hand Tanya over, and you can get what you want. Anything. Wealth. Favors. Subordinates. I am willing to negotiate.”

“And what if I say no?”

Ultaf shrugged. “I’ll admit it’s been decades since my grandfather has seen action. I’m certain the Shimizu Warlord would like to, shall we say, spread his wings a bit.”

Zuken stared at him with half-lidded eyes and said, “Eek!”

Ultaf snorted and stood up. “One month. That is as long as I am willing to give, Banksi. As soon as this woman returns, I expect you to send her packing to me. Or else, you will not like what follows!”

Zuken watched him, his expression never changing. As Ultaf reached the doorway, Zuken called out. “Ultaf Shimizu, if you ever need another job done, send me a letter. Don’t try offering me fortune or threats again. Oh, and see yourself out!”

Ultaf paused for a moment, then turned his neck around.

“One month,” he whispered, and then, he was gone.