They were rather plain-looking longswords, without much ornamentation, but they needed none.
The sword that was eye level with me was solid black from hilt to blade, but when I blinked, splashes of red and orange seemed to trickle in and out ethereally. It was beautiful in its simplicity, and I wanted to wield it. It called out to me.
I shook my head and focused on the next sword. It was the inverse of the previous sword, shining silver metal that sparkled even in the dark. The hilt was solid white with a golden pommel, and the blade of the sword shone with soft white light.
However, this weapon made me want to run screaming from it. I recoiled and backed away.
“The hell are these?” I asked, my voice cracking slightly.
“Hmm,” Magnus said, looking up. He squinted before his light green eyes lit up. “Ah, should’ve known you’d take an interest in those two.”
"What are they made of?"
Magnus waved his hand, and the black sword was in his grasp. It flared to life as if lit by the flames of perdition itself. "It goes by several names, but I call it hellsteel. It’s incredibly hard to forge, but not impossible. Several prominent blacksmiths have managed over the years. And before you ask, no, I won’t tell you how it’s made.”
Damn it, I want one. “Fair enough, but what about the other one? Why do I want to never go near it again?”
His lips turned up in a half smile. “It has that effect on the unworthy.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snapped.
Magnus held up his hands to placate me, but his eyes lit up with humor, none of it ill. "I meant nothing by it, friend. If it makes you feel better, I can't wield it either."
My eyebrows raised. "How come?"
Magnus snapped his fingers, and the hellsteel sword vanished, only to be replaced by the shining silver one. It floated in the air above our heads, lazily spinning on its axis.
"It’s called godsteel, and it's not meant for mortals. Only those with shards of divinity can wield such weapons."
"How do you have it, then?" I asked, not having a clue about what he was talking about.
A small, sad smile met me. "I'm holding it for a friend."
"Who?"
But my question went unanswered as Magnus busied himself with the table. It was clear he would say no more on the subject, despite leaving me with far more questions than answers. Okay, just leave me alone to unpack literal demonic and divine weaponry. Seemed like Magnus liked to play it that way, blow my freaking mind and then leave me hanging with questions. Whatever, just more shit that doesn’t make any sense…which is rapidly becoming normal for me.
“Why don’t you get to the reason why you brought me here?”
Magnus brushed my question aside, focusing on his map table, pushing pieces around like it was a chessboard.
“Magnus!” I slammed my palm flat on the table, sending his little pieces scattering across the map. Anger clouded his face, and his eyes darkened.
He glared at me, and suddenly I couldn’t move.
I stood stock-still. My airway was clear, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t breathe. My lungs refused to operate. I couldn’t even fall to the floor; I just stood there and suffocated.
For nearly a minute, I maintained my cool. I’d pissed him off, and I figured he would relent, but after another half a minute, my consciousness waned. Panic quickly set in, and I started freaking out. I railed against my invisible bonds as hard as I could, to no avail. I wasn’t moving an inch.
My sight grew dim as my brain starved of oxygen, my head grew heavy, and my thoughts lost all cohesion.
Then he released me.
I tumbled to the floor and lay there choking on the air I shoveled into my starved lungs. It took several long moments before I regained the strength to stand. I stumbled up and clutched at the table to support myself.
Magnus looked me dead in the eye. “You forget your place, Durandahl. I am not someone to make demands of. I may not be your enemy, but that doesn’t mean I won’t kill you if you cross me.”
From the look in his eye, he meant every word, and he more than had the power to carry out his threat. Much as I hated to admit it, he was right. I had forgotten my place. I’m nothing compared to him. My power is nothing. My skill with the sword is nothing to a man who can kill me without a word. He outclasses me in every possible way.
I nodded to him, rubbing my throat. “Message received.”
He straightened, tugging at the cuff of his golden tunic. “Good. Even with all your faults, I find myself liking you, and I try not to murder people I like, but it happens.”
Magnus began fixing the table, placing the toppled and scattered pieces back where they belonged with pinpoint accuracy. He worked with speed; in under twenty seconds he had replaced every one that I had knocked over.
As he situated the final piece, he spoke up. “To answer your question, I am waiting on Aliria…she is bringing something of importance. She should be here─”
The heavy door opened, and Aliria walked in. She’d changed into a radiant crimson dress, accented by a rather simple silver necklace in the shape of a honeycomb that draped across her slender throat.
She smiled at Magnus before turning her gaze upon me. “I hope you two weren’t waiting long.”
He shook his head, smiling at her. “Not at all. Duran was just looking at my collection,” he said, as if I hadn’t almost lost my life moments before. “Let’s get started. Did you bring her?”
Aliria nodded and placed two fingers in her mouth and whistled.
Soft footsteps from the door caused me to turn at the new arrival.
She was tall for a girl, as tall as Aliria, which put her just under six feet. Her thin black dress left her alabaster skin bare at the shoulders and hinted at the immodest with its plunging neckline revealing the curves of her sizable bust. The girl walked with her head low, hiding her face behind a veil of her jet-black hair.
But at that moment, her appearance didn't matter. Her gait as she walked in is what caught my attention.
The pace she walked and the set of her shoulders screamed nervousness. Her hands twined together in front of her, long, slender fingers playing over each other, again and again. She kept her eyes to the floor and refused to look at anyone.
The girl stopped just shy from Magnus and Aliria, kneeling in supplication.
"You called for me, Master?"
Her voice was heady and sweet, like honey, but it cracked with anxiety. I’d heard it before yet couldn’t place where.
"Rise. I have a task I need of you," Magnus commanded.
She bobbed her head in acknowledgment and stood, giving me my first proper look of her. She brushed her curtain of dark hair back and let it drape down her back where it rested just above her thighs.
Her face was soft and kind. Small chin, low rounded cheeks, and downward-turned raspberry lips that were made for smiling—something this room desperately needed right now.
However, the most profound aspect of her visage were her blood-red eyes. I'd have taken her for a vampire, but the red didn't stop at the iris. The color bled to the whites, staining them crimson, leaving only her small pupil and a thin black circle in an ocean of red.
My eyes widened when I realized what she was, and I grimaced.
Our eyes met. Sorrow and regret stared back at me before she hastily looked away. Though her gaze lingered on me when I turned back to Magnus.
A shapeshifter, fucking perfect. Been a long time since I've seen one of their kind, but what's she doing here?
"Why's the shifter here?"
The girl flinched at my words and dropped her head once more. Magnus glanced at me with approval in his eyes. "Raven’s here because you will need her help for your task."
Raven? Pretty name for a monster. I frowned, furrowing my brow as I tugged at my ponytail.
“So not only have you not told me what I’m doing, but you expect me to run a godsdamned escort mission wit
h a shifter?” I resisted the urge to pace and placed my hands firmly on the cool wood of the map table. “Enough games and secrecy, what’s the job?”
“Nothing terribly difficult for one as talented as you. A simple retrieval,” Aliria said, her eyes smoldering with predatory delight.
I barked a quick laugh. “All right, what do you need me to steal for you?”
She smirked at my response. “Such a clever boy.”
Magnus tilted his head from the table and chuckled. “Told you,” he said to Aliria before turning to me. “You’re correct. What I require isn’t something I can purchase; the gods know I’ve tried.”
He paused, which set my teeth on edge. Magnus danced around the topic, refusing to outright tell me what I needed to know. And that worried the hell out of me.
All I know is it involves the shifter, which already isn’t a good sign. I don’t trust them, never have. The price for their power has always been too high.
Someone who’s made that bargain has nothing to lose and no line they won’t cross. She’s dangerous.
Aliria came over to lean against the table next to me. She sighed and placed a finger on the map. On top of Aldrust. “What we need is an emerald, rather large for its size.”
An emerald? Why─oh, no. My heart jumped up in my throat, and blood pounded in my ears. You can't be thinking…oh, by the nine kings of hell. I stared at her pale finger, at the blood red fingernail pointing at my death.
“You can’t be serious. That’s a suicide mission for even the most experienced thieves. I’m worse than a bull in a china shop. No,” I said, my mouth drier than the sands of the Badlands.
Magnus sighed, disappointed at my answer, but it wasn't a shock to him. He knew exactly what he was asking of me, and he understood. Aliria, on the other hand, wasn't having any of it. Her face clouded with anger at my flat-out refusal, while the shifter stood ramrod straight, not looking at anything but the floor. The tension in the air was so thick, I could’ve drowned in it.
"You're just backing out?" Aliria asked.
"Damn right, I am. You know what you're asking, right? Lachrymal’s Heart, really?"
"Are you afrai─" Aliria began, before Magnus cut her off.
"We know exactly what we are asking, and the risks involved, which is why I won't hold it against you if you decline. You wouldn't be the first."
I’m sure. I’m sure you’ve sent plenty to their deaths after this fucking McGuffin hunt of yours. Professionals. I’m just a thug for hire, a hammer, not a scalpel. “If you’ve tried in the past, you obviously would’ve hired the best the Thieves Guild could offer. No way I succeed where they failed.”
“I disagree,” he said with conviction.
Something in them had faith in me, despite everything, despite the callous words he had thrown at me an hour ago. He’d told me his truth, that he thought I was unfit to help, yet now he stood there with his knowing eyes that told me I could do this.
I wasn't half as confident.
"Wipe that look off your face. I'm not doing it."
But he still kept his gaze firm and unblinking, staring into my soul. "Even if it could save the world?"
His words hit me like a truck.
"Would you like to help save the world?"
The question that started it all. The one question that brought me to this world in the first place. The question asked of me all those years ago. The question that got me to join up in this crazy experiment. A thousand years later, and I still don't have any clue as to what the point of any of this was. Why are we here in the first place? But I had better questions that needed answering right now.
"I thought you said we weren't in danger?"
"We aren't, not right now, but we could be if we don't do something. You said you wanted to help, so help save this world."
"Save the world. You make it so nonchalant, like it’s just another job."
Magnus shrugged. "Isn't it, though?"
No. No, it's not. What was being asked of me was beyond dangerous, and if I failed, I wouldn't live long enough to regret it. Do I want to save the world? My answer to back then was no. I'd had no desire to save the Earth, only to escape my miserable existence, and now I was being asked again.
Earth was beyond saving—is Nexus any better?
I didn't think so. This world was much the same as Earth, giving humans access to magic and game mechanics didn't change us. As soon as we got our bearings, we set about conquering this world. Killing and enslaving those we thought inferior to us. We drained this word dry as fast as we fucking could.
This world was just as corrupt and debased as the one we left. It didn't care about me, so why should I care about it? Let someone else handle it. I'm going home. You hear that, Ouroboros? I don't want any part of this madness.
I turned to walk out. To walk away from all of this, half-expecting Ouroboros to stop me, but I met no resistance. "This world doesn't matter to me. Find someone else for your suicide mission."
I left them in silence; the only sound in the room was the echoes of my footfalls. I reached the large iron door that would lead me upstairs and away from this. I had the handle in my grasp when Aliria spoke.
"What about Eris?"
My body froze on its own, nothing stopping me but my heavy heart. Damn it all to hell. She knew my weakness and knew exactly how to twist it to her advantage.
The worst part about it was I couldn't even be mad at her. I'd have done the same in her position. I didn't care about Nexus. It was just a place; let it burn for all I cared.
But I absolutely cared about Eris.
I cared for her. For Wilson and Gil. I cared about my friends and my castle. I cared about my warm bed and my balcony view, and I couldn't enjoy any of it if I was dead…but it brought up an important question. Can I live without them? Can I live with the knowledge that the world might be in trouble, and I could’ve done something to stop it?
No. I'd rather die a hundred times than lose my family again.
I huffed, knowing I was beaten. "Fine. I'll hear your plan, but I'm not promising anything."
If I don't have a chance of pulling it off, then I'm out. I'll find another way to save us if it comes to that. I returned to the table with a scowl, only to find Aliria looking quite smug and superior as she plied her power over me. Her demeanor left a sour taste in my mouth, and I needed to find some way to wash it out.
"You know that's your daughter you're leveraging as a bargaining chip, right?"
Her smile fell. Much better, now let's get back to my need to be committed for even thinking about attempting this. I took a look at the map and guessed where Magnus had built his castle. I'd only seen a few glimpses of the outside world, so I had nothing but a hunch. I pointed to an open spot on the map, on the far edge of the Badlands.
Right where I guessed Magnus’s castle to be.
Magnus didn't smile or acknowledge I was right, but a slight intake of breath told me as much.
"All right, so we're about a four-day ride to Aldrust. Is this a time-sensitive job?"
He shook his head. "Not to you, no. I've been waiting for years. A few days give or take won't be an issue."
That's one thing sorted, but I still don't like this. There are far too many unknowns. "Anything you can tell me about the job, any information I might need?"
“A little. I’ve got several teams on retainer in Copper Lowtown. Raven is my point of contact for them. So you’ll have as much backup as I can provide, but unfortunately my scrying magic doesn’t work underground or indoors, so I don’t have more actual intel to give you.”
Damn, this isn’t good. I untied my hairband and ran my hands through my hair before quickly retying it. “Not inspiring a ton of confidence, Magnus. Your team might work for you, but not here. I want my guild in on this. Wilson is one of the best thieves in the business. He could handle this much better than I could.”
“Absolutely not. Your Gloom Knights have quite a reputation, and barring a few
exceptions, like yourself, I’d sooner do it myself than allow your guild anywhere near this.”
Indignation flared through me. My fingernails dug into the soft wood till it hurt. “I trust them with my life, yet I have to work with a team I’ve never met and a godsdamned shifter to steal one of the most heavily guarded artifacts in the world?”
“In a nutshell.”
“Oh, fuck this,” I said and pushed off from the table, heading back to the stairwell. “Come get me when you want to stop tying my hands while asking the impossible.”
The door was an inch away when a scorching hand grabbed on my arm; it spun me around to face Aliria, whose face was set with a stubborn determination. I jerked my arm from her grasp. “I’m not your plaything. Don’t put your hands on me.”
Aliria leaned into me, placing her hand on my shoulder this time. My first thought was to pull away again, but something about her demeanor stopped me. She got right up to my ear and whispered, "If you leave now, Eris will die."
“What did you just say?”
Absolute pitch-black rage exploded from my chest in an unrelenting tide. Before I could stop myself, I picked her up by her throat and slammed her against the iron door with a resounding clang. I hadn’t called it, but chitin came with my fury.
Subtle scents of the forest flowed around me as it oozed over my forearm and coated my hand and fingers in jagged obsidian.
I squeezed tighter, tearing into her flesh and splashing drops of crimson over my hand. It snaked from her throat to run over my arm to drip to the ground. “Don’t you ever fucking threaten her!”
She smiled at me through the pain, which only made me squeeze tighter. I wanted her dead, but first I wanted her to suffer terribly, and I split her pale skin open, drawing even more blood.
Aliria’s smile never wavered. She reached out a hand and tapped one finger on my chest, right over my heart. As the first time, my world shattered with pain. The chitin around my arms dissolved to black rain and slunk back under my skin.
I dropped her as my strength waned and blood dripped from my eyes and nose. It spilled metal into my mouth, and I spat it out to join the growing puddle on the floor.
She smirked. Her eyes flashed victorious as she backhanded me. I hit the ground, my cheek landing in nearly scalding blood. I tried to stand, but her foot connected with my ribs and turned me over.
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