King Chess Piece [https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/AP1GczNxojTsXMnJ-r3m8CHdnfnFM3hKvvW3HULeYDpCA0xzftuWeS36mw3HGKibqkLAGYaOrPaY7aOulPyVwE4xJ6W7mdMDK_IVCBuOU-tSM9mTzBMBua2JMcXV7Y5tyh7uVSPURradNzWeDu57Wt0khLY0=w661-h992-s-no-gm?authuser=0]
Lukas was annoyed by the sight of the siren that was holding his treasure hostage. Despite being in dire straits with their ship destroyed, night currently falling, and only a dinghy and handful of crew to his name, this man had the audacity to claim to want to make a trade.
“How about you hand him over, and I don’t kill you where you stand?” he retorted to the man who had introduced himself as “Captain Ablin.”
“You told Stormbeard that you wanted the rare gem instead of the divine items, but you didn’t mention that gem was a gemite, which means you knew more than you told us,” the siren quipped, apparently not as dumb as he looked.
“Just because you were ignorant doesn’t mean our deal isn’t valid,” Lukas pointed out. “Our deal was that I got the gemite and that you got the divine ones. It’s not our failing that they escaped or died. Those stipulations were not part of our deal.”
“Well, the deal is changing now unless you want us to just slit his throat and feed him to the fish,” Ablin snarled, showing his pointed teeth. “We can start rowin’ east now if you ain’t willin’ to trade.”
Lukas gave a heavy sigh and rubbed at a temple before clarifying, “The gemite in exchange for passage to Silent Isle and enough Bits for a new ship?”
“I know how much a Shiny gemite is worth to you cannibals,” Ablin spat, glancing down at the unconscious boy, “Tossing him in the sea would be a mercy, but I got my crew to think about now.”
He rolled his eyes, weighing his options for a moment, but nodded and said, “Fine, it’s a deal. Now board and make yourselves comfortable for the journey.”
As Ablin grinned victoriously, Lukas turned away from their line of sight and made a simple gesture to the ship captain, who had been watching the exchange.
A single finger across the throat.
Once the gemite had been handed over, those half dozen pirates that still very much had hearts and brains quickly found themselves without those functioning any longer. At least they no longer had to worry about their own dinner for the remainder of their journey to Serenydi.
“Dad, can I keep him in my room?” his daughter asked as she examined the gemite currently being held by the ship’s First Mate.
“No, Lyra,” he replied with another sigh. “He’s going to stay chained in the brig where I can make sure he won’t escape again. The last thing I need is for my luck to turn sour again and have him try to swim away on some godsent aval.”
“Oh, um, dad? I think we might need to do something about this,” Lyra said, pointing at something on the boy’s wrist.
He moved closer and questioned, “A bracelet? What’s so concerning about—”
“Those are tracking bracelets for parties,” she explained to him. “They’ve become quite popular recently. Makes sense if the Saint’s party has been walking around the city with them. But either way, I’m pretty sure he can be tracked through it since it’s attuned specifically to him.”
Well, that was easy enough for him to fix. Lukas immediately moved to untie the leather straps woven through a set of variously colored beads. Then, he simply dropped it onto the deck and crushed it under his boot. There was a loud popping sound as the beads partially imploded, but his expensive Emerald Caste shoes had little fear of getting damaged by something so trivial.
He bent down and brushed the remaining fragments into his hand before promptly moving to the side of the ship and dumping the garbage into the sea, “There,” he stated flatly. “Hopefully, they’ll assume he’s dead now, too, and we don’t have to worry about a thing.”
----------------------------------------
When Dazien awoke once more, blindfolded, gagged, and bound even tighter than before, he remained still, trying to push his other senses to gain information. He could make out the sounds of people talking in the other room, the heavy coughs and wheezes of others nearby him, the drip of water against stone, and the smell of blood, sweat, and salt water.
He tried to be more discreet this time as he lay on his side against what felt like cold metal, carefully moving his head against it to lift the blindfold slightly and catch glimpses of the dark room he now found himself in. The metal below him was also connected to the bars surrounding him, and he realized he was back in a cage.
However, he had no idea where this new room was located. Was he on some random island thought uninhabited like Uriel had been with the DOD? Was he in Serenydi? Was he even on land, or was this some magic ship that didn’t rock with the waves?
The door to the room opened, and he heard a man’s voice speak as though continuing the conversation he hadn’t been able to make out through the walls. “You think that this apparent Heir to a noble house that you took prisoner will be exactly what our High Priestess needs and that will somehow make up for your blunder in Tulimeir?”
Another man tried to interject the first. “Our god told me as much. Maniac said she was seeking—”
“Right. A Shiny gemite. How you managed to get hold of one in that backwater tundra must have been a gift from the goddess of luck herself.”
“I very much doubt that,” the other one grumbled. Dazien swore he knew that voice from somewhere, but he was having trouble placing it. “We barely escaped with our lives.”
Dazien saw polished black boots stop in front of him as the first voice said, “From what you described, though, it sounded like he simply landed in your lap both times. Despite dooming an entire branch of our cult’s operations, you managed to escape with your family and brought our High Priestess the one thing worthy of receiving her forgiveness. Very lucky indeed.”
The sound of metal scraping nearby announced his cage door being opened but Dazien was surprised when he felt himself pushed onto his back. The blindfold was removed, making him blink a few times as he readjusted to the light level but giving him a clear view of the owner of the black boots.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
An elvish man with short black hair and pale skin that had a blue undertone to it was crouched low, looking him over with dark charcoal around light blue eyes. A slight smile tugged at the corner of the stranger’s lips as he observed aloud, “Well, he’s in a miserable state, but I know High Priestess Vanderill will be pleased. He looks like he’d be a match for her orange and purple Torc.”
“I thought she wanted him for her ritual,” the other man said with a grimace. Dazien finally recognized that voice with that face but hadn’t realized he was part of the Scarlet Banquet. Lukas Lumeris was a well known merchant in Tulimeir, likely one of the wealthiest that wasn’t part of a noble house. He hadn’t realized illegal dealings had been attributed to that wealth.
“Valtessa likes getting to know her sacrifices. She says it helps empower the rituals if she understands them better,” he chuckled lightly. “I’m not sure if that’s true, though, or if she just likes to indulge herself.”
“I don’t like the idea of letting people play with our food,” Lukas retorted. “We might be cannibals, but we don’t have to be barbaric about it.”
Dazien was slightly surprised to see any sort of moral line being drawn by someone who kidnapped and ate people or used their parts for magical items or enchantments.
“I would advise you to make sure that Valtessa doesn’t hear you call her barbaric,” the other man said. “I doubt she’ll be able to abstain from getting to know this one better. She’s been very adamant on wanting a Shiny gemite.”
The elf used a hand to brush the silky purple hair out of his face, and Dazien recoiled at the touch, struggling against the bonds once more, but a firm grip on his jaw held him in place and forced him to meet the man’s embellished eyes with his own amethyst ones. Then the elf spoke with a smirk, “It’s the eyes, I think —like precious gemstones— and this one has some fire behind them.”
He released Dazien’s face with a shove backward as he stated coldly, “We’ll see how long that lasts for.”
The elf stood straighter and waved at the other occupants in the room. “The rest of these are going to become dinner if I don’t find an adequate buyer. You said most of them were either stray pirates you captured or the crew of the Victor’s Tribute?”
“Yes, Lord Finndeshin,” Lukas responded with a glance toward the others.
“Then I believe it’s safe to say your debt is repaid, and you can begin your new life in Serenydi when we arrive. I doubt Valtessa will grant you another branch to oversee, but I’m sure you can make yourself useful to us here. Now, leave us.”
“My lord?” Lukas asked in confusion, lifting an eyebrow as he looked between Dazien and the elf.
“I wish to speak with him in private before we arrive. So, leave us now, or I may forget to mention to High Priestess Vanderill that you were the one responsible for his capture,” the elf lightly threatened.
Lukas Lumeris looked once more at Dazien, almost as though pitying him, before giving a simple nod and bowed towards the elf. “As you wish, my lord. I will prepare for our departure. It should only be another week to reach Serenydi from here. We’ve kept him drugged for most of the journey so far, and I’ll need to restock on the Isle to continue that.”
“That’s probably for the best,” the elven lord replied, giving Dazien a more assessing look now. “That better explains why he appears in such a sorry state. Don’t tell me you haven’t been feeding him at all. We don’t want the Fading to set in.”
“We’ve been watching for that, but we’re treating him as a combative flight risk and following the proper protocols for that.”
“Very well. Carry on with your preparations, then.”
As the merchant quickly vacated the room, Lord Finndeshin crouched down and gently touched a rune inscribed on a blue gemstone embedded in a silver torc around his neck. A haze of shimmery silver and magenta swirled around them for a moment before becoming invisible to the eye, and the elf did him the favor of explaining, “A simple yet effective Song and Illusion enchantment to prevent eavesdropping.”
The man leaned forward and untied the cloth that was gagging Dazien as he said, “Now, why don’t we start with names? Mine is Lord Eugene Finndeshin, but most people simply call me Finn. Mister Lumeris said you were a noble?”
Dazien glanced towards the door, then back to the elven lord, and asked his own question in return, “Will answering lead to my freedom?”
Finndeshin frowned and shook his head. “I’m afraid not, but if you need motivation to answer, then know that cooperating will likely result in less pain.”
“Likely,” Dazien repeated, making note of the qualifying word.
The elf grinned at him. “Many people among the nobility have ways to detect lies. Myself included. One learns quickly to not speak in definitives. It is merely an ingrained habit by this point. Now, what is your name?”
It was Dazien’s turn to smirk as he honestly answered, “My people call me King. Do you make it a habit to kidnap nobility? That seems unwise.”
Finndeshin’s grin grew wider as he said, “I never claimed to be wise. I do admit I find it interesting that you weren’t lying about the moniker, though. Will you at least tell me what Your Majesty’s family name is so I may place the nation from which you hail? I don’t recall Tulim’s Queen marrying an Amethyst gemite, though I have heard tale of her Garnet plaything.”
Dazien was surprised by that information, unsure exactly about who he was referring to but only knowing of one person who was that close to the royals. He didn’t like to think about the person he admired being referred to as an object, however, and ended up sounding more upset than he meant to as he angrily retorted, “Why do you care? Lumeris said I was food, and you said I would be a sacrifice. What difference does my name make if all you care about is my species?”
“The difference comes in whether we do use you as a ritual component like Mister Lumeris suggested or if your family is important enough to warrant a backroom trade instead of instigating a hunt into your whereabouts. Mister Lumeris told me a name, but I’m also not inclined to simply believe a man desperate to reclaim his standing among us.”
Dazien glanced back toward the door that Lumeris had left through, thinking through how they might react to his name and if it would actually save him or ensure his doom. He assumed that Paul was fairly well known in the city he had been officially exiled from. Would that paint him as an important figure or a known enemy?
He had been hoping to keep their identity hidden in the city until he had managed to present his two letters to the Queen of Serenydi. The first was a simple letter of introduction that Patricia had written up for him and Phoenix, explaining who they were and what their official intentions were while visiting the nation as foreign nobles. The second was the letter from Paul.
Revealing he was not only a Wayland but the son of the exiled lord before presenting himself to the Queen would potentially get the door slammed in their face before he ever had a chance to speak.
However, even with those worries, he would never get the chance for the door to slam if he was silenced in a cage to be used for ritual sacrifice…
“My name is Dazien Wayland, Heir of the House, and son of Baron Paul Wayland,” he answered. He then added, “Is that enough to ensure my ransom over my death?”
Finndeshin looked as though he was seriously contemplating the question before slowly saying, “Perhaps. I will have to make some inquiries of my own, but I won’t be the one to make the final decision either way. That’s up to my High Priestess, and unfortunately, I doubt she’ll let you escape her grasp once you’re in it.”
The elf leaned forward to replace the gag once more, then stood and exited the cage. As he shut the metal bars and activated the runelock, he added as almost an afterthought, “Not many survive gaining the attention of a Sanguine Vampire.”
Dazien’s eyes went wide at the information, surprised that an actual vampire was living in the city, and mentally cursed as he realized his situation was not exactly what he had planned to confront their enemy with.
If he had been lucky to escape death from the blood cult the first time, it would take more than a miracle for him to escape unscathed this time. He started wondering if perhaps his luck had finally run out.