by Aaron Oster
“What will you do if we succeed?” Sarah asked, playing with her remaining food.
“Probably go after your father,” Morgan replied honestly. “I’m getting sick and tired of him getting in my way. Once this damn war is over, I want to concentrate on getting stronger, and finding the person who erased part of my life. I can’t do that while constantly looking over my shoulder.”
Sarah nodded, not even in the least bit concerned that her best friend had just casually mentioned murdering her father. She had no love for the man, and wouldn’t care either way.
“No matter what happens, I’ll be there for you,” she said.
“I know,” he replied, giving her a smile. “Now please let me finish my breakfast. This may be one of the last I’ll ever get to eat.”
***
Grub perked up from his slumped position in the horse’s saddle.
He’d ridden hard over the last few weeks and had reached his home in record time. His eyes were bloodshot and his head pounded something fierce, but he’d made it!
The large gates up ahead were closed, and he could see a couple of guards standing watch to either side.
“Halt! Who goes there?” one of them called out.
“What the hell kind of greeting is that?” Grub shouted back, sitting up straighter in his saddle.
The guards clearly didn’t recognize him, as they immediately turned hostile at his reply.
“This is the property of the Merchants Guild. Turn back or we will attack!”
“I am Grub, son of Keet!” Grub yelled, face going red with rage. “Look at my ring, you lowborn shit stains! Now get the hell out of my way, or I’ll have your tongues removed for your insolence!”
One of the guards was about to angrily retort, but the other put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. He’d recognized the ring on Grub’s finger and realized that he was probably who he said he was.
“Apologies, Lord!” he replied, giving a clumsy bow.
“We didn’t recognize you and now we have shamed ourselves greatly. Please, let us escort you inside,” he said, bowing deeply, then banging twice on the gate.
“About damn time,” he snorted, folding his arms as the gates swung open.
Once they’d opened, he rode in, making sure to take note of both their faces. He’d have them beaten regardless. No one would disrespect him. Not here anyway.
He rode into the main courtyard of the sprawling estate where his family did their business, though it was business in the loosest interpretation of the word. Grub’s family, for lack of a better term, was a criminal enterprise. They used the Merchants Guild as a front, of course, but behind closed doors had all sorts of illegal dealings.
They were owed huge sums of money by Queen Beatrice of their own kingdom, as well as several nobles families. That was not to mention all the favors they were owed by the nobility in other kingdoms. If there was one faction that held more power than them in all the Five Kingdoms, it would have to be the Assassins Guild, and even that was a close call.
Grub dismounted as he reached the center of the courtyard and a stable hand scurried out to take his horse’s reins.
“Where is my father?” he demanded, as the man tried to leave.
“I believe he’s away on business, young master,” the man replied in a wheezy voice.
“Then what about my mother?” he demanded, starting to feel more than a little annoyed that he, the heir to the family business, was being so poorly greeted.
He had been willing to overlook their attempt at a rescue. After all, if he were presumed dead, it would be a waste of resources to come look for him, but surely, word of his return must have reached them by now. They were way too well informed for him to think otherwise.
“Your mother is away, as well,” the man replied, cringing visibly at his annoyed look.
“Well, tell me who is here, you whimpering shit, or I’ll paint the barn a new shade of red with your face!”
“The deputy head is here!” he quickly replied. “She’s in her office. That’s all I know!” And with that, the terrified man scurried away, bowing hastily and dragging his tired horse behind him.
So, Keldor’s been replaced, he thought as he headed into the front door, making sure to take his shoes off before he did.
He sighed as his feet came into contact with the light and springy bamboo mats. He’d really missed this.
The academy had been nice and all, but their floors left something to be desired.
He walked down the long corridor, taking a few turns until he was standing before the sliding door that used to be Keldor’s. Steeling himself, he knocked twice on the frame and waited.
“Enter,” a very familiar sounding voice called out.
Grub pulled the sliding door to the side, and his suspicions were confirmed.
“Grub! It’s so good to see that you made it out alive!” Loquin said, from her seated position behind the low table.
“You’re the new deputy head?” Grub asked, completely shocked.
This wasn’t right. Loquin wasn’t a member of the family. With Keldor’s death, the position should have been handed back to his father until Grub turned eighteen. Not to this outsider.
“Do relax and come in. You must have had a long journey. I’ll make some tea and explain everything,” she said, rising from the floor cushion, and walking over to a small fire pit set against the back wall.
Grub eyed her suspiciously, but eventually gave in, closing the door behind him and taking a seat at the low table. He could see a bunch of official looking documents sitting there, as well as a small inkwell and brush pen.
“So, tell me how you, a complete foreigner, managed to obtain such a high position in our household,” Grub asked.
He was feeling a bit calmer now that he was back home, but was still on edge from his long journey and the information he was carrying.
He turned as Loquin set down a small ceramic mug before him, then padded to the other side of the table and had a seat as well.
“That is a very long story, and one which I cannot fully explain myself,” Loquin began, taking a sip from her cup.
She held up a finger as Grub opened his mouth, and he held his tongue until she’d finished drinking.
“Your father left a letter before he left on his trip. He told me to be expecting you in the next few days, and to apologize for his absence. The Queen demanded an audience, and one does not deny her wishes.”
“And what does the lovely Queen Beatrice want this time?” Grub asked, as Loquin handed him a folded piece of parchment, sealed by a blob of red wax with his father’s stamp.
“More money, if my guess is correct,” Loquin replied, as he cracked the seal with his thumb and read through the letter.
It was brief and to the point. Loquin had been adopted into the family to replace Keldor, as she had been an invaluable resource to the family for the last twenty years. Grub was to treat her as an equal and trust her with any and all information he’d acquired during his stay at the academy.
Grub folded up the letter and tucked it away with a scowl.
It was typical of his father. He was always abrupt and straight to the point. His mother was quite a bit different. She was a foreigner as well, and was a bit warmer to him.
“So, it would appear that I’m to entrust you with any information I gathered while at the academy,” Grub said with a sigh.
He’d wanted to tell his father in person, hoping to receive just a hint of approval from the man, but now he had no choice but to tell Loquin. If he held off after reading the letter, he would only receive his father’s ire for waiting.
Looking back to her, he saw her waiting with an expectant expression. He blew out an annoyed breath, then told her everything he’d overhead between Katherine and Arnold. By the time he was done, Loquin was smiling from ear to ear.
Great, he thought. Now she’ll receive all the praise for this, and I’ll get nothing.
“This is some tru
ly excellent information!” Loquin exclaimed. “Your father will be quite pleased when I tell him of your discovery!”
Grub was taken aback.
“You’re not planning on taking credit for this?” he asked. Had this been Keldor, he would have expected no less. That was just the way of the family.
“Of course not!” Loquin exclaimed with a laugh. “You will be the head of this family one day, and it would be foolish of me to try and slight you.”
Grub felt oddly pleased with those words and nodded.
“Good. At least you’re smarter than Keldor was. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve had a long journey and would like to take a soak in the hot springs before supper.”
“But of course!” Loquin said, rising from her seated position as well. “Enjoy your bath.”
***
Loquin’s smile slipped as soon as the door closed, and a look of contempt crossed her face.
She’d worked hard to weasel her way into this family, and she wouldn’t be put out by some snot nosed brat. Especially not one this dumb.
Her smile was soon back on her face, as the information he’d provided was quite good indeed. This would be the perfect opportunity for her to make the family a vast sum of money, and possibly even secure their place on the South Kingdom’s throne, once and for all.
She walked over to the far wall, and slid aside a small wooden panel, revealing an ornately carved mirror sitting in the alcove behind it. She ran her fingers over the gemstones set in its base, in a specific pattern, then waited.
About five minutes later, the face of her most recently acquired favor showed up in the mirror.
“What do you want?” asked Lord Simon, from the North.
Simon had fallen on hard times recently and had borrowed a large amount of money from them to fund a recent project of his, and now he owed them a very large favor.
“Is that any way to talk to the person who gave you so much money?” Loquin asked in a sickly sweet voice.
She relished the struggle on his face as he visibly worked to control his temper. It always made her feel good to put these pompous nobles in their place.
“What can I do for you?” he asked, finally managing to compose himself.
“Oh, nothing major,” Loquin replied, toying with a lock of her hair. “I hear that you’ve gotten in good with King Edmund in recent weeks.”
“I have,” he replied carefully.
“Excellent! I have some information that might just interest your dear King, so I’d like you to set up a meeting between the two of us.”
Simon’s face darkened at this.
“Are you mad, woman? Do you know what kind of damage it will do to my reputation if the King finds out I’ve been consorting with the likes of you?”
Loquin had the good grace to pretend to be offended.
“Well, you didn’t seem to mind consorting with us when we handed you that massive bag of money. Now, you can either pay up, with our standard 85% interest rate, or you can set up that meeting. It’s your choice,” she said, allowing a predatory smile to cross her features.
She saw Simon’s face go beet red, then the wind seemed to go out of him.
“Oh, very well,” he replied with a sigh.
“Don’t look so disheartened, Simon,” Loquin cheerily replied. “I assure you that Edmund will be quite pleased with the information we have to offer. Hell, you might even get a promotion. Until we speak again…” Then she cut off the connection.
Loquin closed the small door and went back to sit by her desk. She let out a content sigh as she sat, and stretched her arms over her head.
She had no idea why she’d waited so long to try her hand at this business. It really was so much fun.
38
Morgan put down his knife and fork with a sigh, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He burped, earning him a disapproving glare from Sarah, which he completely ignored. Standing from the table, he stretched, wondering what he could do to pass the time.
There were still several things he needed to do, not least of which was figure out exactly what an evolved supermage was and what the extent of his capabilities were. As far as he could tell, everything was still the same. He couldn’t really be sure though, as all of his skills had changed once he’d ranked up.
He blew out an annoyed breath, prompting Sarah to look up from the book she’d begun reading.
“What’s got you so worked up?” she asked with a teasing smile.
“I need to figure out the extent of my ability. Not only that, but I have to figure out what exactly is happening to me.”
His brows furrowed in annoyance at the seemingly impossible task before him.
“Why don’t you go into a Beast Zone to do some training?” Sarah asked. “Maybe while you’re there, you can also figure out how to contact Dabu on your own.”
Morgan stared at her for a moment, before a wide grin spread across his face.
“Thanks, Sarah. You’re a genius!” he said, prompting her to blush.
He quickly dashed back to their room and found the leather bag sitting on her bed. Digging into it, he soon came out with the pouch of keys. Katherine had handed them several more, so he had quite a few to choose from.
Eventually, he settled on a rank 21 zone. He quickly stripped out of his pajamas and changed into his enchanted armor. He exited the room a few minutes later, pulling the magesteel gloves on over his hands.
Sarah was reading again, but she looked up as he emerged, giving him an appraising look. He really had filled out since the rank up. She could clearly see the definition of his new muscles through the tight material of the armor.
“I’m heading in now. Are you coming with me?” he asked, already sticking the key into the air and turning it.
“I think I’ll pass,” Sarah said with a wave of her hand. “I’ve had enough of those damn Beast Zones for the next twenty years.”
Morgan shrugged.
“Your loss. Just don’t complain when I come back stronger than you.”
With that, he leapt through the portal.
He emerged a few minutes later into a burning desert. He blinked, immediately squinting as the sun overhead practically blinded him.
Why was he so hot? Shouldn’t his new rank afford him some protection against heat like this?
When he stopped to think about it, it did make sense. This was a rank 21 zone, so it would be challenging for someone of his level. He opened his eyes again, slowly this time, and allowed them to adjust to the sunlight around him.
The first thing he needed to do was get the lay of the land. Using his advanced flight, Morgan shot into the air. After just a few seconds, he was hovering at his maximum height and staring out at the vast rolling dunes of sand around him.
He was in awe at how large the place was. He hadn’t even been aware that places like this existed. It made him wonder just what type of beasts would call a place like this home. Despite the heat, his body shivered in anticipation and he landed back on the ground.
Best not to waste any RP when he was out here alone. He wouldn’t have Sarah to back him up this time, so he would need to be just a bit more cautious than he normally was.
Morgan began trekking through the sand, feeling his feet sinking in as he walked. He’d spotted a rocky looking outcropping to the north when he’d been in the air. He assumed that was where the Arc lived, so he headed in that direction.
It didn’t take him long to run into his first beast.
Morgan squinted, using aura sense on the spiny shelled creature before him. It’s aura immediately flared red and words appeared over the creature’s body.
Name: Razor-shell Tortoise
Rank - 20
Ability type - Super
Morgan took up a fighting stance as the beast lumbered up to him.
He’d never heard of a tortoise before, but he guessed that the shell wouldn’t be easy to crack.
The beast let out a loud bellow that sounded almost
human, then it immediately began glowing red as it prepared to use its ability. Morgan didn’t waste a second and activated storm blade, forming it into his favorite lance.
A piercing weapon would do well against that thing’s shell.
He couldn’t help but notice that the amount of gold interspersed with the purple reiki in his blade had increased, if only slightly, since the last time he’d used it.
The tortoise then did something very unexpected. It pulled its head and legs inside the shell. The most alarming part was that it stayed floating in the air, just a few inches off the ground. Then ever so slowly, it began to spin and Morgan immediately saw where this was going.
He wasn’t about to wait for that thing to pick up speed.
Morgan darted in, bringing the whirling storm blade back to deliver a powerful thrust. His blade impacted against the tough shell but did absolutely nothing.
Morgan cursed, slamming the blade into the tough shell over and over as it picked up speed. After six or seven blows, he could see that his current strength would not be sufficient enough to crack it.
He was about to use gravity impact when the beast began to emit a high pitched whining sound. It was only then that he noticed that the tortoise was spinning so quickly, that the spines had become a blur. He leaped to the side without a second thought, sure that the beast was about to attack. He wasn’t wrong.
The tortoise shot forward in a blur of motion, slicing through the spot he’d been occupying only seconds before. Morgan thought he’d have a few seconds to recover, but the whirling shell of death abruptly changed directions, and he was forced to once again dive to the side. This time however, he landed on one of his hands, then shoved hard against the ground. The force of the push sent him a good ten feet up, where used his storm blade’s ability. Purple and golden lightning flashed across the lance as he came down right on top of the spinning shell.
He slammed the blade against the beast, and the lighting discharged with a loud zap. While the blade hadn’t penetrated the shell, the lightning had caused some damage, and the tortoise abruptly fell to the ground, twitching and writhing as the electricity coursed through its body.