The Gildin Brothers had arrived in the town of Ascogres, with barrels of Tisruda’s fish in the two wagons. They stopped by Çienten’s place to negotiate on selling his wheat beer to the upcoming party at Ascolitica. The [Brewer] accepted with a smile, knowing his acclaimed fish sauce and wheat beer would reach the nobility, promoting him to higher places.
Racieros heard that Numisley and Cultrost were in town, so he let them in as soon as they arrived at the castle gates. Racieros ordered his servants to prepare a simple feast for them.
“Racieros. Turns out I’m one of you.” Numisley went straight to the point, after the initial introductions.
“What do you mean exactly?” Racieros raised his eyebrows in confusion.
“I mean what I said. I’m nobility. I’m one of the long-lost sons of the Naveirei. I’m Numisley Naveirei, son of Jascias Naveirei and Marhyiana Naveirei. Upon my blood, honor, and homeland, I declare my intention to undergo the Ritual of the Ichoricon to prove my heritage…At least, that was what I will say at the upcoming party. Your father hired me to sabotage the party in the first place by delivering rotten food. Under the name of the Kaminors. To take the fall.”
Racieros’ fork echoed throughout the hall, clattering on the ground.
“You’re nobility after all…” Racieros answered. He knew he was telling the truth because he had no reason to lie. “But, you’re the son of the Duchess Marhyiana Naveirei?”
“Is our mother that famous?” Cultrost leaned closer. His statement piqued his curiosity.
“She was a hero a decade ago. She saved the royal family from the hegemony of the Gaviolos. She fought five dozen [Assassins] to bring our [King] to the capital to restore his throne.”
“Five dozen?” Cultrost asked.
“That’s what the stories said,” Racieros asked. “Your father, the Royal Spymaster…I don’t really know what he did behind the scenes.”
“Of course.” Numisley smiled, fondly remembering the times when their father taught them some basic cryptography. “Since you know my parents, I need your support for the future.”
“For what, exactly?” Racieros walked around the table, getting closer to Numisley.
“Testify for me. Back me up when they question my heritage.”
“What’s in it for me then?”
“I’ll be your greatest ally. Our partnership bore fruit, right? I’ll give you much more.”
Numisley stood up, leaning on his cane. His other hand grabbed Racieros shoulder as if Numisley is showing him a glimpse of the future.
“Imagine. If I have my own land, you will be our foremost partner-in-trade. Imagine the money that you’ll make then. You’ll make your father proud.”
Racieros was thinking about Numisley’s offer for a whole minute before he decided.
“You had helped me, so I’ll help you.” Racieros chose the simplest option.
“Want to come with us to Ascolitica?” Cultrost invited.
“I’m going to come with the rest of the family,” Racieros informed.
“But you never liked the rest of your family anyway, right?” Cultrost bumped his fist on Racieros’ shoulder. The young nobleman bit his lip slightly, smirking. Cultrost was also one of the reasons why he agreed with Numisley’s deals. He liked talking with Cultrost every night when they had traveled to Semsella back then.
“Fine. I’ll come. ‘That alright with you bro?” Cultrost turned to Numisley.
“Yeah, sure.” Numisley shrugged. He did not mind his brother getting closer to Racieros. In fact, he encourages it. Cultrost needed friends, ever since they left their homeland, leaving their old friends and family behind, as well their acquaintanceship being an advantage to Gildin Trading to draw from.
Racieros wrote a letter to be sent as a [Message] Spell to his father. The letter was passed to the local Mage Guild to be sent to the Count. The next day, Racieros left with Gildin Trading towards Semsella. Numisley spent the next few days studying the copy of the laws and the secrets of the black book during their travels, as he observed Racieros and Cultrost gradually warm up to each other, ever since they spar against each other with Graten back then. Finally, they arrived at the Kaminorian hill town.
“What do you want? I thought you were going straight to Ascolitica?" The Kaminorian Castellan impatiently asked.
They were now within Kaminor's castle. Adriasta's brow furled when he saw Racieros and the Gildin Brothers together. Numisley wanted to talk to the Castellan alone, and she accepted the request. They were now alone in the office.
"I'm wondering 'bout something. You'll take the fall when I get caught right? Since you would supposedly send me to deliver food for the party." Numisley asked.
"Yeah, why?" Adrista answered, sitting on the chair, staring at the letter sent by the Count days ago.
"What are you going to get from playing in the Count's game anyway?"
"Why do you want to know? It's our business. A commoner like you should just follow orders and wait for your bag of gold coins."
"I'm no commoner. I'm Numisley Naveirei, son of Jascias Gildin and Duchess Marhyiana Naveirei, and I'll announce myself as a new player in this game."
The Castellan took a closer look and saw the resemblance. This [Merchant] shared his father's blond hair and the boldness of his mother.
"So, what? You're not recognized. You will never be recognized."
"I will be after I will shout to the gathering that the Comerros and Kaminors had paid me to sabotage their food."
Numisley leaned on his staff smugly. Two figures emerged from the shadowy corners of her office, skulking towards Numisley, knives aiming at his back.
-
"Sometimes, you kicking me in the nuts was the best thing that has happened to me."
They were in the castle's rooftop pavilion, drinking mugs of mead and melons, a delicacy Cultrost didn't know existed until now. Racieros prevailed on the castle's [Chef] to access the pantry.
"That's a first," Cultrost remarked.
"Sorry. That was a bad first impression. I can't really think straight when I lose my temper."
"Well–I understand."
"Meeting you–and Graten was probably the best–one of the best moments in my life. I–"
The back of Cultrost's neck itched, sensing danger. He suddenly stood up, and the sweet melon fell flat on the stone floor with a wet splat.
"My brother's in danger!" Cultrost frantically looked around for any threats in the immediate vicinity, finding none.
"What do you mean?" Racieros tensely gripped his scabbard.
"I get Feats from my [Bodyguard] Role when I accompany my brother. One of them enables me to detect if my brother's in danger. Call the others!"
Cultrost rushed to the inside of the castle, passing by milling [Servants] in the corridors. He rushed towards the path that would lead to the Castellan's office, but he was blocked by the crossed spears of the castle's [Guards].
"The Castellan is dealing with important business." One of them impassively spoke.
“I’m Cultrost Gildin, brother of Numisley, who is inside the office right now! So let me through or so help me!”
Cultrost tried to push through the crossed spears, but the [Guards] pushed him back.
“We have orders.”
“Fuck those orders.”
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Cultrost crushed one of the [Castle Guards]’ noses with a fast fist. The other guard reacted with a thrust that the Satyr dodged, cutting his hairband. Cultrost retaliated by breaking the shaft of his spear and knocked the other [Guard].
He avoided using his mace because it will kill. He knew better than to put Numisley and their company in hot water because they killed personnel of the nobility. He charged through the hall and found another four guards waiting for him, forming an impromptu spear wall.
An armored [Knight] appeared behind them, and threw a spear straight toward Cultrost, empowered by a Feat. Cultrost dodged sideways, bumping himself hard into a wall. The spear wall didn’t advance, contrary to what Cultrost expected.
“Stand down.” The [Knight] that threw the spear warned. “Or we will consider this a criminal act against Castellan Adrista Kaminor.”
“Let me through! I’m with Numisley Gildin, who’s in your Castellan’s office right now. I’m his brother.”
The [Knight] gritted his teeth. He had orders to stop any interruption until the job was done. Before he can order Cultrost’s death, he saw the young [Lord] of the Commerros walking with the entourage of Gildin Trading.
“In the name of the Commerros and our friendship with the Kaminors, I order you to let Cultrost Gildin through!”
Racieros pulled out his dueling cutlass from its sheath.
“My orders are to not let anyone through.” The [Knight] spoke.
“Then I will fight.”
Racieros marched closer toward the spear wall. The [Guards] knew that injuring a noble as a commoner would incur a sin. They would be arrested in the name of the Divine Decree and forced to work as serfs, or much worse, be called a heretic and be forced into joining one of the worst Redeemer Orders. Hence, they stood down and pointed their spears at the ground, and opened a gap between them.
The [Knight] stood down, knowing why the [Castle Guards] stood down.
Led by Racieros, Cultrost, Raudaeiz, and their other companions rushed straight to the Castellan’s office. The doors slammed open, and they saw Numisley being grappled by a man in black clothes, with the Castellan pointing her cutlass at Numisley’s torso, while the [Assassin] knife was pressed against his throat. On one corner of the room was a burnt corpse, and Numisley’s magical walking stick in the ground. Cultrost realized that he used one of the loaded spells to fend off his attackers.
“Let him go!” Cultrost pointed his mace in the Castellan’s general direction.
“What are you doing to his brother, taking a [Merchant] hostage?” Racieros questioned, outraged by how she treated her guest.
“Who are you to question me, you little half-breed?” Adriasta fired back. “You should know that we do what we need to do to keep our realm safe. This is no exception. He is a threat to the kingdom.”
“Why?” Racieros asked.
“Because of his father. The previous [Royal Spymaster] had conspired against the previous [King]? Now, he has the collected secrets from his father. How can we all be so sure that he would not do the same? Now, where’s the book?”
Her sword was pressed on Numisley’s torso, drawing blood, but not deep enough to kill.
Cultrost was shocked that someone else knew the existence of the black book. Someone had told Adriasta that, and he guessed that Thousand Roads is behind it somehow. However, he does not have confirmation for this. Cultrost gestured to Raudaeiz and his gang, knowing their ability to steal things, and the Castellan raised his eyebrows, anticipating an attack.
Raudaeiz and his [Thief], Jrain reached out their hands. Using the same Feat, the Castellan and the [Assassin]’s blades flew towards their hands. Josaif, the [Squad Leader] of Graten’s, charged towards the [Assassin] to rescue Numisley.
The [Assassin] dropped Numisley and revealed a wrist-mounted crossbow from his sleeve. It flew, but Josaif’s axe expertly blocked it. Arimith behind him retaliated with a crossbow bolt to the [Assassin]’s chest. At the same moment, Raudaeiz’s Dragonkin [Thug], Texion swooped in. The Castellan fired a bolt of magic from her ring, but he dodged it and grabbed her from behind. The rest of Gildin Trading’s men locked the door behind them. Cultrost handed Numisley his magical walking stick and helped Numisley up.
“Thanks.” Numisley held on to Cultrost for support. “This makes things easier.”
Numisley approached the Castellan, staring into her eyes.
"Texion, sit her down."
The hulking Dragonkin nodded, holding her to the office's chair as she tried to kick and punch her captor. Cultrost rushed to heal Numisley’s wounds by rubbing drops of healing potion liquid on his shallow wounds.
"I have only a couple of demands. I want you to back me up when I reveal myself to the nobility. You will contact your acquaintances to do the same thing. That way I can have permission to undergo the Ichoricon-thing to prove my lineage. Oh, also you will prevent anyone from–"
Numisley's blood seemed to drain from his body as he procured the bloodstained parchment. Now he knows that he can only put only two terms in the [Bloodbound Contract]. The bloody letters glowed as Numisley staggered.
"W-why should I do that?
“I can just simply order Raudaeiz’s man here, to snap your neck.”
The Castellan’s face wrapped in the Dragonkin’s claws flushed with fear, as she stared at Numisley. Cultrost stared incredulously at Numisley.
“Hey, what if we get in trouble-”
“You wouldn’t dare. You are a Merccanten! You will taste the justice of the Divine Decree! We are not to be sullied by those lower than us! Offender! Heretic!” The Castellan shouted, taking Cultrost aback. Numisley however, never faltered.
“Lower? I’m Numisley G-Naveirei! I’m one of you nobility! In fact, if you swear to not harm me or my company, I’ll offer you a deal. I’ll keep your true lineage secret. I will not shout in that party that your entire line was born from your grandfather’s tryst with a commoner.”
The Castellan defiantly gritted her teeth, but she acceded out of fear for death.
“Fine. I’ll sign it.”
Her name wrote itself on the contract written with blood before she could get a feather and ink. She knows about contract-Feats, but not ones written with blood. They let her go and left. She tried to give her [Knight] and [Soldiers] orders, but her blood prevented her from speaking, freezing her jaw in place.
If this was a magical contract, she could break it with antimagic. If this was any other Contract Feat, she would make it invalid with her authority. But her body didn’t let her use any of the Feats, her blood preventing anything that would count as breaking the agreement. She feared whatever Numisley had.
She saw her [Message] scroll keyed to her collaborator lit up, and she didn’t have any strength to pick it up.
-
Count Toresso Commero sat in a tent that was quickly set up during their trip. Unlike Numisley’s [Expert Caravan Master] that made every wagon he rode or led go faster than the average [Wagon Driver], they traveled slow, especially with the rest of House Commero and smaller Houses that had relations with the noble house. Their carriages and wagons were arranged in an impromptu circle to protect them from attack.
He stared at the [Message] Scroll that he had written a message. He waited for Castellan Adrista’s reply for hours now. He already ate the grilled fish that his [Servants] prepared for him.
The [Ambassador] of Thousand Roads inconspicuously walked into the tent, evading the [Servant] walking out with a silver plate littered with fish bones.
“She’s not responding for the past few bells.” The Count informed Ambassador Dosinyu after five hours. “Something might’ve happened.”
“Happened? That boy had even evaded our efforts. It’s an irritable miracle that he’s alive for this long.”
“I heard your…company is powerful. Can't you just, send an expert to go after them?”
“It’s complicated. My employer wanted to keep this affair secret from the other Corporations that will notice. Even from Thousand Roads themselves. Hiring a person with a powerful Role would raise eyebrows. The place where that boy came from has some Diamond Shore influence in some of the cities.”
The Count blanched at the mention of Diamond Shore. Dosinyu raised his eyebrows. Marquis Dustitoz Gaviolos barged in drunk, swaying as he approached the two.
“The lil’ shit, still alive?” Dustitoz drunkenly slurred.
“Unfortunately.” The Count sighed.
“I fur..fuck. I need the bastard to die! Like dead. Before he can prove he’s the son of that decree-damned [Spymaster] and that bitch! Hur-!”
The Marquis puked on the ground. The Count gave his “friend” an offended look. He sighed and rang his handbell, summoning one of his [Servants]. Despite how unsightly he is right now, he is the highest-ranking member of this conclave.
“Aloro. Please bring Marquis to his tent. He has too much to drink. Call someone to clean this mess.”
“At once, my lord.”
Without any fuss, the male [Servant] hefted the Marquis and evacuated the tent.
“Hmph. Disgraceful.” The Count spat. “He’s losing it. What happened in Libertalia? Care to tell me? We’re collaborators, anyway.”
“Hmm…Verbatim, he said that ‘Libertalia is the worst decree-damned continent among the Six Lands’. Without my mistress’ assistance, he had wasted his money and suffered for it as he tried to escape Libertalia. Also, apparently, we aren’t on the list for the ship that we had reserved in Baunt. So, he incurred a debt to my employer and we paid for his ship to Torregorn.”
The Count nodded upon hearing this information. He had ideas, to potentially elevate himself to the nobility and gain more of the rewards from going with this plan.
“Say. If ever–if he becomes a deadweight to our plans, will your…employer be open to changing the terms of the deal? If I contribute more than him, will I get a bigger share of the rewards?”
“Think of that when we capture that book and kill that Numisley Gildin. Hire someone, now.”
The Count, not satisfied with the [Ambassador]’s answer, begrudgingly wrote on another [Message] Scroll to one of his contacts.
-
Throughout the night, the two-wagon caravan of Gildin Trading sped through the northwestern forests to Naveirei lands. Afraid of the retaliation that will come to them.
“Is Numisley okay?”
Palden called for Cultrost as he directed the horses. Cultrost emerged from a curtain within the wagon upon hearing Palden.
“Yes, yes! Numisley’s just tired. Don’t worry. He just needs rest!” Cultrost reassured, sweating.
Earlier, as they escaped the Kaminor’s castle, Numisley had fainted. Cultrost rolled the pale Numisley in a bedroll. He noticed his brother’s skin got a hue paler. The weakness of [Bloodbound Contract] that Numisley told him had taken a toll on his body. He had to keep it secret from everyone for their enemies and potential traitors to avoid them taking advantage of it.
“How far are we to Ascolitica?” Cultrost asked Palden.
“A few days–four days if I keep up this pace!” Palden answered.
“Four days? Good enough…” Cultrost mumbled to himself. He hoped the Numisley would wake up soon. Before something goes wrong.