Eli Briggs
Eli was reviewing documents in his office in Hijinks when she arrived. He kept his gaze reverted to his paperwork for a few moments longer than would be considered polite before looking up at her with an expectant look.
She met him with that damnable coy smirk, mocking him.
“You called for me?” she asked, seated across from him.
He put down his pen and forced a smile to his face. “I suppose I did.”
“You know, I’d heard of your games room but never stepped foot in here until now. The way it’s spoken of I assumed it was some great lounge where the most powerful members of society gathered in disguise. Imagine my surprise to find a small venue with a small population of drunks and its proprietor hiding in a dingy basement.”
“Apologies, the drama from above has been bad for business,” he gestured his head upwards, “But I won’t deny that Hijinks may seem understated. However, I assure you it’s been a reliable meeting spot for as long as I’ve been here.”
“I believe you. Now I don’t believe you called me here to exchange barbs, so perhaps you can fill me in on why you requested a meeting. I don’t usually come calling to just anyone but I continued to be intrigued by you Elias. May I call you Eli?”
“It’s what my friends call me,” he shrugged.
“So would you say that I’m your friend?” she asked.
“No,” he said simply, “But I will get to the point, I have no doubt you’re busy, Grandmaster.”
Alzira smiled once more. If she was growing impatient she hid it well, but Eli supposed she was used to the other Grandmasters and was well-practiced at keeping her cool. She waited for him to continue.
“I called you because you previously said I could help you. Care to elaborate? Or has your first impression of Hijinks sullied that line of thinking?”
Her smile fell a fraction of an inch and he decided that was a small victory.
“Your connections, Elias. They’ve long been rumored to connect to someone powerful. Someone who has eluded me through the years. I know she’s heavily guarded and well obscured, but I require an audience.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “I don’t know whom you speak, please jog my memory.”
Her lip curled in frustration, finally cracking. “I assure you that you do. The fugitive has eluded me for some time so I don’t doubt that she would be apprehensive about a meeting, but it is a matter of grave importance and I assure you that she would be given diplomatic immunity.”
“If it’s not a matter of her crimes, what would you need to speak with her about?” he inquired politely.
“I need to speak with her regarding the fate of our world,” she said in a hushed voice.
“What could one person know about the fate of the entire world?” he leaned back and put his feet up on his desk.
“That’s what I wish to find out.”
“And what do I stand to gain in return? It seems like I would be placing myself in great personal danger if the other party was disagreeable or didn’t like your terms.”
“In exchange, I can offer an opportunity for protection for both yourself, your nephew, and the Mayor,” she explained.
The corners of his lips quirked up. “Why would I care about the Mayor’s protection?”
“Because I think despite your cold exterior there is a warmth for him.”
He frowned. “You likely know that the man recently came to my house unannounced and undisguised; the reward for my hospitality was invoking the ire of my borough. You understand that I have no inclination to grant him any favours, despite the proclaimed warmth between us.”
“I do understand. However, I think you will find that his protection and you and your nephew’s protection are one and the same,” she leaned forward.
“Forgive me for not seeing the connection. I will admit I’ve enjoyed a certain level of benefit from political affiliation over the years. And I’ll even admit that getting my nephew into the Academy was driven by a desire for his protection. However, if the Mayor has lost his status it is no longer any concern of mine,” he explained coldly, despite the conflicting feelings he felt rising in his chest.
“I don’t necessarily believe that, but I don’t care to challenge your motives Elias so here’s my proposition. Grant me the audience I need and I will personally see that your nephew is protected at all times, especially at the Academy. That is why you fundamentally called me here, is it not? You don’t trust Abigail, and Olly pledging for her Guild disrupted something for you. Do I have that right?”
Eli raised his eyebrows. “You are astute. But what if I’m unsuccessful in granting you an audience?”
“If I might suggest it further, you should consider Tarry’s offer to join his team. I think you’ll find that the political motive is worth your while,” she said coyly, “Until next time Elias.”
She pulled her disguise back up and swept out of his office. He placed his hands thoughtfully behind his head.
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The next day, as he moved to fulfill Alzira’s request, Eli was nervous. He was in the tenth borough currently. He had gone to a somewhat rival bar however this one catered to slightly more upscale clientele, those who had their fingers in things they shouldn’t but wanted to maintain a cleaner image. At first glance it was just a bar; anyone could enter the premises and be served their drink of choice. However, if you knew the right people, or rather the right things to ask for, it was a very different kind of establishment.
There generally weren’t major conflicts between boroughs in Occaigh, and he was certainly thought highly enough amongst the underside of society to feel secure in most situations. But this wasn’t a simple territorial dispute or a misunderstanding to smooth over between businessmen, this was a request and it was going to come with a cost.
Still, he quashed those feelings, looking afraid or out of place is what got people in trouble. And he needed confidence if this was going to go well.
He was seated at a fairly discrete table near the back of the bar and when the bartender came by to take his order Eli provided the order he was told about many years ago.
“I’ll take the Italian beef sandwich, hot, dipped not dry,” he recited.
The bartender, who had scarcely been paying attention up until that moment, froze in place.
Eli looked up at him expectantly.
“Are… are you sure?”
“Positive,” Eli said, leaning back in his chair, balancing on the back two legs.
“You attempted to order this same, uh, meal several months ago and I recall it ended poorly for you. I’ll ask you again, are you certain that this is the order you’ve selected?”
“It is.”
The bartender looked concerned for a moment but then went behind the bar to make a call. Eli watched him carefully; he seemed to be convincing the person on the other end of the line. After a few minutes of what appeared to be a slightly heated back and forth the bartender returned.
“Right this way,” he said gruffly and led Eli through a door inconspicuously marked as ‘Emergency Exit Only’.
No turning back now, Eli thought grimly.
The door gave way to a long hallway that was lined with private booths. Some were closed off with heavy velvet curtains; while he could hear low muttering behind them there was enough soundproofing to block out any level of detail. He knew that this meeting was too important to take place in a mere booth, and was unsurprised when he was instead led to another exit. This one actually brought him to the outside this time.
He half expected to be kicked out unceremoniously this time and told never to come back. He knew that his request was not a usual one and to make it twice was more than questionable. It was very clear they were entirely uncomfortable with fulfilling it so reaching another dead end wouldn’t have been unexpected to him at this point.
“Wait here,” the bartender instructed and went back inside immediately, leaving Eli standing in the cold, dreary alleyway.
The door quickly slammed shut. He scarcely had finished turning away from the door before he heard a car rumbling down the alley, reversing before coming to a stop a mere foot from him.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Don’t show fear,” he mentally recited his mantra, trying to remain cool.
The rear doors opened and two very large men stepped out.
“Elias Briggs?” one asked, his voice low and gravelly.
“Yes,” he confirmed, very cognizant of the fact that he hadn’t provided any name to the bartender.
“Get in,” was all he said, standing aside.
Eli stepped into the car, maintaining an external air of calm as he was flanked by the two men.
“Drive,” the other one instructed to a driver hidden behind a privacy screen.
This was farther than he had gotten last time. And that time he had been left with some bruised ribs and a sprained hand for his trouble. To others, it would certainly be taken as a warning to never return. But to him, it had read like a warning not to come back without a meaningful purpose. She was testing his mettle.
The windows were suspiciously tinted and no one looking from the outside looking in would see anything. Eli maintained his gaze forward, palms face down on his knees. There could be no sudden movements or suspicious behaviour from this point onwards. He was not playing on his terms and the less reactive he was the better his odds were for success.
As they reached the end of the borough limits and began to enter the ninth borough one of the men procured a thick burlap sack. Eli’s heart rate quickened but he remained composed and gave little reaction to the man roughly pulling it over his head. Clearly, the location was to remain a secret but he tried to keep track of time in his head and the relative time between turns. It wasn’t a lot of information to go off of but he suspected that they had crossed into the seventh borough. However, he also suspected they were taking extra turns to keep him off their course.
After what felt like a painstaking twenty-five minutes the car finally came to a stop. He was roughly led down a slick staircase, one guard on either side of him with a meaty hand clamped down on each shoulder.
He obediently let them lead him down the stairs and into a building. After a short walk, he was sat down in a hard chair and the bag was removed from his head. He blinked, adjusting to the lighting in the room. It was dimly lit, windowless, and seemingly underground. Apart from the chair he was on, the furniture was plush and he watched as one guard took a seat on a very expensive-looking red velvet couch. The desk that he was sitting in front of was a rich, deep red-brown and the high-backed, red velvet armchair across from him remained empty but he admired the craftsmanship. The gold trim provided a very regal appearance; it reminded him of an antique chair that may have once adorned the personal office within a palace of long-dead aristocracy. Knowing its owner, it very well may have been.
A door situated behind the chair opened and a willowy woman with long dark hair sauntered into the room before taking her seat across from him. She was about fifty years old, fifteen years older than he had last seen her, and the only thing that gave away the passing of time were the lines pressed into her forehead and around her mouth as she looked at him distastefully.
“Constantine, I’m honoured you agreed to see me,” he said reverently.
She rolled her eyes and scoffed quietly. “The last time I saw you I believe I made my feelings clear regarding ever seeing you darken my doorstep again. And your last attempt to reach me should have served as a warning. What do you want?”
“I come with an olive branch, and a mutually beneficial offer.” He lowered his voice as he spoke, still feeling uncomfortable by the presence of multiple people in the room.
“I offered you my help years ago and you explicitly turned me down. Why should I listen to you plead your case now?”
“Because you’re the only person I can turn to right now. And your help will be highly important to ensuring my nephew’s safety. Please, if not for me, or for him, do it for his mother,” he pleaded, letting a desperate edge tint his voice.
“Don’t twist my affection for my niece against me. She’s just as culpable as you are, she brought this blight on us. Both her and your idiot brother. But in any case, they’re both dead now and I remain to clean up their messes. If I knew saying yes to her all those years ago meant having to deal with your personal problems now I’d have put her out on the street. I was soft then, but no longer,” she said coldly.
He bristled slightly but tried to keep his voice even. “I assure you that helping him could only open opportunities up for you. Would you at least care to hear my offer?”
“I offered you my help with him once, but that offer has long dried up. I no longer care to help a child that I’ve never met. Particularly one that has only gained from my legacy, the very one you helped to destroy!” She slammed her fist down on the table.
The silence was deafening and after a long pause he spoke up, “What if I could make amends,” he said quietly.
“I don’t possibly see how,” she hissed.
“I have the favour of a Grandmaster who wishes to speak with you, and I have a friend in the Mayor. You’ve lived in the dark for so long. I know your span of control amongst the shadows is immense but you cannot walk in the daylight due to the past,” he said solemnly, “I could set you up to rise in society once more. If you do this one thing for me.”
“Which is?” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him in an appraising way.
“I need it reopened. You’re the only person who can do it. If you help me, I’ll leave you with a repaired legacy and powerful friends. What do you say?”
“I’d say you’re out of your mind. You know that’s attention I can’t risk bringing onto myself.” She shook her head mockingly and leaned back into her chair so that her face was obscured by shadows.
“The tunnel collapses… they’re no coincidence. We always knew that they’d come back. And Grandmaster Alzira is suspicious about what the other Grandmasters are doing. She wishes to speak with you and if you help her make connections I’m sure you could name your reward.”
“It was no accident, of that I’m sure, but I think you’re growing paranoid if you think it has to do with the ghosts of the past, or that it impacts your nephew’s safety,” she said with a shrug, “There’s plenty of people I could think of being behind those collapses, and I have enough connections to sustain me through any and all crises. I don’t need hers.”
“If you helped uncover potential corruption in the Guilds, particularly during a time of political turmoil, your reputation would be cleared and you’d be free to build power as you were doing before,” he insisted urgently.
“Speaking of building power, I heard rumors recently that there were some developments regarding an interesting magical ability coming out of the sixteenth borough.” She looked at him pointedly.
“Which is when I first attempted to contact you, and you rebuked my request for an audience violently I recall,” he rescinded grimly, rubbing at his hand absentmindedly.
She waved her hand. “Admittedly, I didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of jumping to answer your call. And I wanted to be sure there was something of interest. When I heard about the aptitude test and his acceptance, well, that confirmed it. He’s like his mother then?”
“Yes,” he admitted quietly.
“So why not wait for him to come into his full certification and ask for his assistance in your request? Why now?”
He faltered, he knew it could be a deadly mistake but he was already here, playing his hand. Holding back didn’t change anything. “I… didn’t send him there for my gain, nor is he undergoing training that would assist me in this case.”
She cocked her head, seemingly interested in this development. “What Guild did he pledge for?”
“The Conductors.”
She laughed viciously. “You think you’re protecting him but in reality you’re sending him into the lion’s den. He won’t be accepted as one of them, and your span of control will be limited once he’s no longer under your wing.”
“So you do have reservations about the other Grandmasters then?” he challenged.
Her face twisted. “I suggest that you don’t look too deeply into my words.”
“But if you don't have concerns with Alzira, your help would surely be appreciated and rewarded. Constantine, I believe that you want out of here. We're both stuck, this could be our only opportunity out. I think you know that just as well as I do that helping each other might be the only way forward.”
“Believe what you’d like. This scheme is even more ridiculous than I thought you would be capable of, but now that you’ve proved me wrong and we’re discussing it as if it’s a viable option, I must say I’m a little surprised. Given the nature of your request I don’t know why you didn’t push him towards becoming a Controller, you could’ve avoided all this but I guess you’re an idiot so I won’t fault you too much.”
“You’ve never liked me so insults to my intelligence scarcely matter to me, though you would be a fool to avoid this opportunity.”
The guards had motioned towards him menacingly but she halted them with a raise of her hand.
“This was almost entertaining, I’ll give it to you that you’ve amused me tonight. Because I don’t trust you to handle this situation without muddying it up beyond salvage, I will consider your request.”
He sighed deeply. “I suppose that’s all I can ask for. Thank you for your consideration, Constantine.”
She rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers. The guards stood up, one had the burlap bag prepared in his hands.
“Oh, and Elias,” she said just as the bag was about to be lowered on his head.
“Yes?” he asked, heart rate quickening.
“Don’t ever call me a fool again,” she said in a dangerously low voice.
He was about to respond affirmatively but found himself doubled over from a wicked punch to the solar plexus delivered from the guard beside him. He stumbled, wheezing as he fell to his knees. He gasped and sputtered, barely aware of her walking around to hover over him. One hand clutched to his stomach, he tried to use the other to brace him but a guard held a knee against his back, pinning him to the ground.
She knelt down before him and yanked him by his hair to force him to look her in the eyes. She held a thin dagger to his cheek and he could feel a drop of warm blood trickling down his cheek.
“If I grant Grandmaster Alzira an audience I want you to know that if I don’t like what I see I will intervene in the manner that I see fit and that you will be a dead man,” she hissed coolly, "Do you understand?"
She let go and the guard released his weight from Eli’s back. "I understand," he wheezed as he got to his feet unsteadily.
"Good." She turned and left without a look back and he felt the burlap bag get roughly pulled down his head once more.
He scarcely remembered the ride back, adrenaline and fear were coursing through his body. It wasn’t as bad as last time, though he had hoped to avoid injury this time. The burlap sack was hardly needed as he wasn’t paying close attention to time or direction but he did recognize that he was in the car for much longer than the initial trip. Finally, the car screeched to a stop and he found himself roughly manhandled as they yanked the burlap sack off with needless force and carelessly tossed him out of the car and into a new alleyway.
The car peeled off, leaving him alone and shaking. He scooted backwards until his back reached a wall and he took heaving breaths until he felt himself slowly calming down.
Finally, he got up, using the wall as a brace, and got his bearings. He realized that was only a few blocks away from Hijinks and could try to discreetly enter through the back, hidden door.
It could have gone better, and yet despite the pain he couldn’t hide a small smile from having accomplished what he needed.
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Much later on that night, as he iced his abdomen once again, he decided to make a phone call.
“It’s me. I’m sorry for my overreaction the other day. Do you mind if we talk? If your offer still stands I may have reconsidered.”