The White Whale Chateau was a building measuring in at around 1,200 feet in height, 455 feet in length, and 650 in width. In it were around 500 rooms, 10 minor kitchens, one grand kitchen, 5 gyms, and 20 secret passageways that Shane knew of at least. There were also at least 3 meeting rooms and 2 grand dining halls. The White Whale Cheatuau. Its name is due to both its size and unique coloring of pure white. Since the revolution, the chateau has existed to behave as a temporary home for prominent figures during their extended visits, along with their personal guards, servants, chaperones, and extended family. Shane would act as both a personal guard and a partial chaperone to Igrid. At the moment, he found himself in the violet and golden halls of the White Whale Chateau. Though his true task remained at the forefront of why he was here, he would still play the part well. A loyal guard, a friendly gesture of good faith, a chaperone. Though it was strange, it wasn’t unheard of. President Luthor’s ancestors emigrated from a village in Guildswana, the majority of the cultures there had a custom where honored guests were given a private servant and guard from their most esteemed honor guard and their closest servants. That was probably where he had gotten the idea from. Shane had only held this position of his for eight years now, and though he was experienced, it occurred to him that he had never actually been inside this building. He only knew the layout and schematics. The halls were a deep shade of violet, with rugs colored a noticeably darker shade of violet, these rugs seemed to fade into each other, forming a single never-ending rug that extended past even his eyes could see. Unique and refined golden patterns graced the walls, ceiling, and rugs, the colors and symbols complimenting each other, while also imposing a sense of inferiority over Shane. When Shane finally arrived at Sigrid’s room, he inhaled and exhaled through his nostrils, preparing himself for his true first impression, and knocked.
There were thirty 30 seconds of silence followed by the door creaking open ever so slightly. A single blue eye met Shane’s own, looking him up and down before opening the door the rest of the way. The owner of the blue eyes was one Papillon Locke. Ronn’s face was very much like his sister’s, soft, yet almost sharp. He glared at Shane for a second, before smirking, stuffing his hands into his pockets, and stepping aside to allow Shane entrance into the room.
His voice was like bitter honey, a light accent rolling off of his tongue whenever he spoke. “Welcome to our humble abode,” he sarcastically greeted with a half bow. “When I first heard about this whole arrangement, I was hoping I’d get that Mully guy…” his pupils slowly looked Shane up and down before he continued, “but you’ll do nicely. Welcome to the team.”
Shane stepped into the room, which felt less like a room, and more like a small cottage built into the building. It was complete with multiple windows of varying sizes, a small kitchen and dining room, and a large flat-screen television with a massive sofa to match, Shane saw a few shut doors, and a cracked door leading to what seemed like a bedroom, at least that’s what he could make out based on the bed shape in the dimly lit room.
“Yeah, it’s almost as sweet as my second cousin’s summer home.” Papillon sighed. “You wouldn’t believe how rough it’s been since I arrived here. It’s always been about staying on my best behavior, standing up straight, always being aware of every little detail about every little thing.” He let out an exaggerated groan. “It’s unbearable, ya know? Having two ladies nagging you about being a toy soldier at all times is draining. But with you around, oh we’re going to get into all sorts of stuff while those two aren’t in the room.” His grin seemed to become more impish the longer he spoke. And Shane couldn’t help but notice just how closely the immature redhead’s voice matched a teenage girl, save for slight raspiness. “I’ve never had a drinking buddy you know. I’ve only had a few sips, and they were when no one was watching. But here? I’m sort of, almost, kind, somewhat, totally free… as long as we’re also guarding my cousin… and my sister isn’t watching. But beyo-!”
Before he could finish, Shane cut him off, asking the oh-so-important question, “Where is your sister? Is she with Sigrid or…?”
Papillon’s eyes dampened and his demeanor darkened as his whole body seemed to stiffen. “Oh… Sigrid’s in the bathroom, and Britanny is snooping around the bedrooms and closets. Sigrid had us do a full scan of the room in case someone wanted to spy on us. I cleared my part of the room early. So now I’m just waiting for Britanny to finish her scan, and for Sigrid to finish her shower… she already took one, but she probably needed a second one after sitting next to Mobo.” There wasn’t malice in his voice when he said Mobo’s name, but there was an emotion that Shane couldn’t pick up on. Whatever it was, it felt snobbish and juvenile.
“Papillion!” A deeper, rougher voice boomed through the room. Papillon’s whole body seemed to vibrate along with the lamps and furniture. Shane couldn’t afford to waste time, though. In one motion, he pivoted towards the sound of the voice, reached for his gun, and relaxed his breathing. His eyes darted around the room in search of the source. Had a cult targeted them? Perhaps some spirit or lesser magical creature. Shane had read about auditory illusionists who used this ability for misdirection. Could be an assa-. Shane relaxed when he saw her face. A beet-red girl with freckles dotting her face. Her darkened features and expression put Shane on edge initially, but when he realized that her gaze was locked solely on Papillon, he moved his hand from the holster. Brittany Locke’s eyes were a stormy blue, and her nostrils flared with each step she took.
“One… did you seriously fix yourself a mug of coffee, drink half of it, and leave it on the counter?” The longer she spoke, the more pronounced her accent became. It was heavy and harsh. Reminiscent of her home nation of Fleuracier
Papillon gave her an expressionless look for a good ten seconds before responding. “It was hot chocolate, and yes… but only because I added too much sugar!” He whined when he said sugar.
“And two, did I not tell you to tell me when the escort arrived?” She didn’t look at Shane, but she did harshly point her finger at him. The appendage almost touching his face.
“Well excuse me, I’m used to you hearing every little thing that goes on around you.” Papillon punctuated his sentence with an accent.
Brittany snapped back in her native tongue. Shane might’ve been able to understand what it was if she hadn’t jumbled her words together. But the two had taken their bickering to a new level. Hissing and cursing at each other in their native tongue. Papillon pointed at himself and hissed that he had killed two Draugr, in his native tongue. Which had caught Shane’s attention, though the rest of their argument was near completely unintelligible.
Shane couldn’t help but wonder how these two children got this job. At their age, Shane was still a rookie who had gotten into a government program due to innate talent in terms of battle prowess, and admittedly a bit of well-appreciated assistance from his uncle. Shane often shivered at the memory of his younger, more childish self, he often shivered at his current, less clumsy, childish self. He’d be inclined to believe these two are the same as he was four years ago, juvenile in behavior, but prodigies in the art of killing any threats to their cousin. But still, he couldn’t help but feel as if this was all wrong.
“And what’re you lookin’ at?” Brittany asked in a venomous tone, “What? Did he tell you something about me?”
Shane should’ve expected she’d turn on him, he wanted to put his hands up and back away, creating a useless barrier between himself and the fiery woman. “I- he didn’t tell me anything.” Shane’s eyes darted to Papillion, then back to Brittany.
“Why would I need to?” Her twin asked with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. “The moment you opened your mouth he got a good idea of your colorful personality.”
Brittany hissed something under her breath, but before she could do anything in retaliation, Sigrid took her first step out of the room. And like that, the twins froze in place. The two turned to her and stood at attention, their bickering replaced with a long silence. Shane perfectly mirrored the pair. Sucking in his breath for a moment as Sigrid seemed to stare him down, sizing him up, as if he was a potential threat to her. Though for all she knew, he was. She was no longer in a suit and tie, instead, she had dressed herself in a neat grey pantsuit with a plain white shirt.
“Well I can’t say you look like you can protect me from anything, but I know better than to spit in the face of foreign cultures.” -Her ice-blue eyes fell upon him as she approached. Her gaze locked him in place, pressuring him beyond any ingrained instinct telling him to stand still. She turned to Papillion and gave him an accusatory glance.- “I trust you haven’t been disturbing your new roommate too much.”
Papillion’s cheeks flashed pink before he shook his head. “No- I mean- I don’t- no, I haven’t.”
“Good, and as for you.” -She turned her attention to Shane, she gave him her full attention before she reached her hand out to shake his. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’m sure you’ll be adequate.”
Shane shook her hand, noticing her firm grip and mirroring it with his own. Sigrid flashed a smirk and pulled away. It soon dawned on Shane that Sigrid was possibly the most imposing person he’d ever met in person. Slightly taller than him, and constantly exuding a sense of unrivaled superiority. Like stone-faced Mully, but without the superiority complex. Sigrid seems self-important, but she also felt humble, which Shane considered a lot considering her station and upbringing. But even then, her very presence had him trapped, not in the sense that he couldn’t move, but in the sense that he felt small in her presence.
“You should probably respond in kind when someone says hello, though judging by the look on your face, I’m guessing you’re too scared to speak, or too lost in thought.” Her tone made her seem annoyed, but her face hid her true feelings behind a mask of playfulness, malice, sorrow, and several other emotions Shane couldn’t quite place.
Shane’s eyes shot open when she said this. His heart stopped beating for a quick moment before beating faster than ever. “Yes, apologies, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well.”
Sigrid rolled her eyes and nodded in acceptance. “You’re on time, I’ll remember that, and hold you to it. Your belongings should already be in your room, which you’ll be sharing with Papillion here. If you have any complaints, take it up with him, if he ignores them, take it up with Brittany, if Brittany is of no help…. You can come to me. Your first day as my escort will be short and mild. I’ve rejected a dinner with Mobo, so all that leaves is my meeting with Stephen Yronson.”
Shane’s brain flickered for one moment, he had been lightly briefed on interactions he should’ve stayed on the lookout for. But Mobo and Sigrid? Why would he even-? The way she talked to him during the meeting… the way she talked to him. He wanted to ask her, but he knew his job. Guard, watch, listen, pay attention, and blend in. Asking questions raised too many eyebrows, at least for now. He could ask her later if he gained her trust, but for now…. At least the meeting with Stephen made sense.
Shane had never actually seen Stephen Yronson’s current face. He had heard of the man though. The head of Yronson Metalworkers Aswate division, a division famous for their brown hair, tan skin, and green eyes. This was opposed to the rest of the family who had pale skin, golden locks, and blue eyes. The only frame of reference Shane had was one photo from 25 years ago, with blond hair, tired blue eyes, and soft, plump features, he was a teenager with the complexion of a tired middle-aged man. The other was an older photo from when he was a child. His father had the tan skin and dark hair, but his mother possessed but his mother had the blonde hair and pale skin of her family, if Shane remembered correctly, they were second cousins, and their marriage served the purpose of keeping the money in the family. Even then, Stephen looked tired and worn.
Shane was told he’d receive a briefing on Sigrid’s full schedule tomorrow, but for now, he had no idea what to expect of the day. She could be lying through her teeth and he wouldn’t even know. When he stared into her icy blue eyes, he knew she could lie about anything and it would seem convincing. Though he knew this meeting would make sense. His family, like hers, was from Septentriocc, the whole continent was bound by centuries of political marriages and wars with Volshebmgou. And every family of hunters or slayers in the continent was sworn to the Lockes.
Sigrid turned to her twin cousins and nodded before continuing to speak, bringing Shane out of his train of thought. “Alright then, early is on time, and on time is late, so it’s best to not be more late than we already are.”
She turned to him and nodded before walking past him and out the door. The twins, or rather these upright, well-mannered, and obedient bodyguards who looked like the twins followed her. Their eyes never left her, and their steps were perfectly in sync. Shane followed suit, closing the door behind himself before matching their synchronized motion down the hall.
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When they left the Chateau, dozens of white suits formed a perimeter around the four. When they finally did make it to the limousine, a bald woman opened the door, her suit was white, but instead of the black tie that most of them had, her tie was gilded gold. She was young for a captain, he wondered if she or any of the other white suits believed that they were better suited for the job of being the personal bodyguard for one of the five huntsman families. White suits were usually the ones put in charge of guarding foreigners, and while he would’ve preferred them to take this task, he knew it wouldn’t seem as culturally significant as a personal bodyguard doing it.
As soon as they entered the limousine, Sigrid signaled to her cousins, and like that, they seemed to flash from their trance. Papillion perked up while Brittany shifted her gaze to Shane.
Papillion leaned forward and smirked at Shane, their eyes locking before Shane averted his gaze from the shimmering blue gaze. “So… where’s your white suit?” The young man asked, his intent gaze betraying his casual tone.
Before Shane could respond, Brittany shoved her brother’s shoulder. “The President his Guildswanan, his culture requires that tribe leaders give visitors bodyguards relative to their status. And someone like our cousin here is at the top of the totem pole.”
Shane smiled and nodded. “Yeah, what she said.” He chuckled for five seconds before stopping upon realizing how uneasy it sounded.
He shifted his gaze to Sigrid, who had already taken out her phone. Texting unknown recipients.
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For the rest of the ride, Papillion asked Shane questions about his interests, place of birth, and his job. When he finished that, he asked questions like his favorite color, or what he liked to wear when he wasn’t in uniform. Brittany occasionally gave her own comment, but other than that she either gazed out the window, glared at her brother, or scrolled through her phone.
When they finally reached the capital city headquarters of Yronson Metalworkers, they were greeted by men in black suits. They formed a tight perimeter between them and the general populace. Their walk through the building wasn’t much different, with employees walking on the outside of the black-and-white perimeter. Finally, they reached the large steel door that stood between them and Stephen. Engraved into it was a massive great sword, divided by the slit between the doors. A man in black and white opened the door. Shane’s eyes fell upon him for a second before returning to the task at hand.
The man at the far end of the table looked small in this cold glimmering black room. Steel walls enclosing the five in. Shane felt himself shrink as he made his way deeper into the massive room. Though still, not as small as the man planted firmly in his seat. Stephen wasn’t particularly short, but his balding, string-haired head, coupled with his stiff form, and the cold steel room made him seem miniscule compared to everyone else. His hollow eyes followed them before parting from the group to narrow in on Sigrid.
Sigrid clasped her hands and sighed. “Why won’t you allow your cousin to ship Godsteel into the country? He outranks you by every margin, both on a corporate level and a familial level. And somehow you’ve still convinced everyone on this side of the pond to refuse the transfers. Entire ships sitting by the docks, just waiting to unload. And yet you still refuse. Your family has threatened you, pleaded with you, and insulted you. Yet you won’t budge. I’d commend your stubbornness if it weren’t childish and unfounded. You know what’s coming, and yet you think you can just say no to defending your species from their greatest threat. So now I’ve been dragged all the way here knock some sense into you. I am Sigrid of House Locke, descendent of Konung of Clan Locke and your family is sworn to me, you are sworn to me. Now you will cease this defiance or I will be forced to-.”
“You’ll be forced to what?” Stephen thundered, a great echo bouncing around the room, silencing Sigrid. The hollow blue spheres that were once his eyes were gone. His new eyes were stormy blue and filled with a great fury. Not like Mobo’s though, no, his were more indiscriminate and general. This fury was concentrated, cold, and hard like one might imagine Sigrid’s own eyes if she were to become angry.
“Will you call upon your friends in high places and have assassins slit my throat in the dead of night? Will you have this man here snap my neck right now?” -He gestured to Shane- “Or will your cousins do the job? You’d only need one. I know what you’re planning. You’re planning to feed the flames of a dying war. You plan to put blood on the hands of me and my associates. When the war leaves the shadows, and the monsters step into the light and trust me they will. This building will be a shield. You wish to send soldiers into the streets. You wish to have foreign men go from town to town, burning villages that may have one or two shamans capable of seeing the future. You wish to drag an old man from his cottage and proclaim him a dragon. I will not stand for it.”
“You don’t have a choice” Sigrid snapped back. “I don’t need to have you killed, you can be removed and replaced.”
“Indeed I can, but I won’t go down without a fight, nor will those who stand with me. Oswald Yronson had a sword he used to slay a dragon, but he was also a smith, a metalworker, and a carpenter. He built homes and walls, and he protected people. He was a sword and a shield. He didn’t accuse women of being witches like your ancestors. My kin have forgotten that, and with the propaganda that they’ve been fed, I do not blame them. This magical human will be dealt with, but I won’t spark a civil war in my homeland.”
Sigrid sneered, “Your homeland is across the sea, you’re just living here. Even if you were born here, you’re still a Yronson.”
He smirked and gave a light chuckle, “Perhaps the Yronsons of Aswate should change their last name. We have other markets that don’t care about any secret war going on between man and magic.”
“When the masses suffer, and your steel box is torn down. Who do you think the people of this land will blame? When you lose your house protection, who will your family blame?”
He glared with his storm-blue gaze. “I will be the shield that defends against monsters and men alike. You will be the sword.”
There was a long silence that stood for a minute before Sigrid broke the uneasiness. “Godsteel doesn’t need to be made into bullets. It could be made into armored vehicles. The manufactured weapons could be melted down and reforged into weapons that are only used when this war leaves the shadows. I could strong-arm local governments, and they’ll be purchased at double the original price.”
He gave a sly smirk and shook his head. “You’re terrible at diplomacy kid. Business was never your strong suit was it? Maybe you should call your uncle over, and maybe he’ll be more successful in convincing me.”
Sigrid slammed her hands into the table and made an audible inhale through her nostrils. She stiffened in her seat, and nodded her head, “That won’t be necessary. Thank you for the meeting. I can’t say it was a pleasure meeting you.” And with that, she rose from her seat and left the room with her head held high.
As they moved through the building, Shane couldn’t help but notice the wrath in her icy blue pupils. Unwavering and unyielding, she moved forward. He could tell the interaction had stung, be he didn’t want to linger on her too long in case she noticed his eyes. When they finally left the building, Shane’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the glare of the sun. Upon regaining his vision, a black object blotted out the sun for a moment before floating in front of his face. It was a long black feather, he allowed it to drift before he caught it in his grasp and looked up. A black shape was flying overhead before landing on a building nearby. The raven watched them intently, its black eyes following them as they walked to the limousine. Ravens were intelligent, but this one felt… off. Were they being spied on? Was this a witch? A foreign agent? He wanted to point it out, but if it knew its cover was blown, it may have magic of its own. No, he couldn’t risk it.
And just before he entered the car, a new black shape fell upon the raven. Crushing its skull under its massive form. A sharp yellow beak attached to a dark silvery white body. The eagle shoved its beak between its talons, rising to reveal bits of pink and red dripping from its head. For a split second, he thought he was being watched, only to see another raven fly by, and the eagle took off.