[Summer – Boythe]
An infuriated Isiah Bahr stood behind his worn, bronze-trimmed oak desk at his residence. Attention to detail had been applied in what he had dressed, as his usual ostentatious outfit fit tight.
He constantly checked his pocket watch with speed. His face grew more angry as he barked at a room full of attentive guests and laborers.
Isiah verbally bursted a proclamation at his audience within the upper limits of his lungs.
“He is not getting away from us!”
The room's attention was his, just as he would prefer it.
“He is not getting away with this! So, I've gathered all you lowlifes here today. I've heard the same statements over, and over, and over as I've organized this little meeting of mine. Men that ooze confidence and- and had experience taking down other pieces of shit like yourselves for a living. Yet here I am, in my office talking to you. Them?-
The audience tap their feet in anticipation and fear.
“They lie in a ditch somewhere like the failures they are. I'm really fucking tired of this breed of senseless- producing an unfinished job.”
The assortment of individuals that had gathered in the Bahr residence met subtle glances amongst their dirty, scrunched faces. A hesitant voice rang through the room from the onlookers.
“So if all those y'know, failed before, you plan on sending us to our deathbeds too? What makes ya' think this even possible, big man? Maybe this bastard you’re after is just better than you expected, huh? Maybe you should be giving up on this obvious personal shit, not dragging us in it.”
Isiah looked up from the empty desk that he had previously fixed his attention on and stared intently at the man who blurted his thoughts to the room. A few slow seconds passed haltingly as the room became evermore silent. The guests awaited a response from their host.
Isiah broke a sharp grin and waved his two men, who were previously stationed at the doorway, with two fingers. He gave them an inaudible instruction after a slight readjustment.
The two men in suits walked over to the loudest of listeners, while the man became anxious about the circumstances with each encroaching second. One of the guards grabbed the man by the back of the neck and threw him onto the orange and black wool rug covering the floor.
The resisting man yelled in discomfort while questioning the motive.
“Hey! Wh-hey! Why?!” he exclaimed.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
His fellow peers looked on, knowing they didn’t have the internal strength to intervene. A gun is positioned behind the groveling man's temple, followed by a loud ringing gunshot as the man is killed before those in attendance.
The uneasiness of the visitors grows to an all-time high as some look away to not have the image burnt into their memories for longer than it had to be. The two guards left the disfigured corpse on the rug and returned to their posts at the entrance, now motionless.
Isiah cleared his throat.
“Like I said...I'm tired of failure. I really am. Take this shit-stain’s last breaths as a lesson. Doubt is the initial feeling that leads to non-fulfillment. Doubt and weakness hold hands like incestuous lovers because they are in the same fucked-up family. I personally think doubt is disgusting.”
He looked down upon the recently deceased in the room.
”Don't you all agree?”
The remaining spectators nodded quietly and answered in a collective audible agreement before Isiah hauntingly proceeded. Isaiah waved his watch forward and back, swaying along with an internal instrumentation that only the oversized boss heard.
“So what I'm giving you all today is not only a lesson, but a job opportunity. If money is your motivation, I can provide that. If power is what you wish for, I'm your fucking genie in a bottle. You were all gathered here today because I've heard that you were the fastest-learning Agists in this land.”
Isiah nods at his guards.
“So if you want whatever it is you want. Then don't be like this asshole on the ground and complete this task, that simple.”
[Summer – Parso]
Penny and Jennings gripped tight as they rode on the back of Poni through the harsh winds that surrounded them. Even the steady pummels of sandy air weren’t enough to dissuade the look on Jennings’ renegade face. He wore determination like armor.
“I have to get to Leeroy, he's in danger. It’s like Isaac all over again.”
An image of Isaac Bahr from childhood flashed into Jennings' introspection. The eagerness upon Jennings' expression only grew stronger as the sand bounced from his face with each gallop.
As they arrive in the oddly calm market with minimal foot traffic, they reach the blacksmith's front door and pound on it frantically, calling out his name.
“Leeroy! Are you in there?” they both began shouting in unison.
No answer is heard coming from within. The chill lingering over the district let out an unrelenting gale that shot past the duo.
He instructed Penny to stand back.
“He'll forgive me later.”
He gently rested his open palms on the front door and froze it at its hinges. A brisk follow-up punch from Jennings sent the door shattering to the floor in icy shards. Wasting no time, the pair entered the shop and began to look for Leeroy.
When they scurried to the lightless back room which housed Leeroy's workplace, the sight brought both to a halting stop.
Leeroy's limp body was discovered on the ground surrounded by a pool of his own blood and his arms bound, lifted. Jennings rushed to his exposed side, wide chunks of Leeroy's body had been removed cleanly off, which was a distinct indication that it was the work of either the swiftest, most precise butcher in the west, or something involving this unknown Agi.
Jennings stepped from his knees and once again began to ponder aloud, “This...this has to be stopped. They ain't going to get away with this anymore. I will end this.”
Jennings lowered the edge of his hat, once again obscuring his eyes from common view. He proceeded to drag his feet and shamble onto Penny, grabbing her wrist as he passed her, finishing his statement.
“I'm not going to rest until this is over.”
As the two exited the blacksmith shop, a man watched from afar within a nearby business. After making sure Jennings and Penny raced off, the unknown onlooker took mental notes, murmuring.
“I’m sorry. Sorry, so...So-”
The hidden entity was weeping to itself as it watched. It was obscured by surrounding, tall shadows and slipped into a black-space that had ripped off. The shadows completed to engulf the spy, dissipating all into a blip of Agi-nothingness.