“Easy, buddy,” Samuel said. “I’m just treating the wealthy the same way they treat the rest of us.”
“It doesn’t work like that,” Cimir replied. “We are egalitarians, remember?”
“Since when?” Samuel replied. “Look, the people on the top would stop at nothing to shove their foot in our faces. So why not shove our boots back if we get the chance?”
Cimir frowned. While the Serpentines had a caste system of sorts, they did adhere to the sacred principles of egalitarianism: every living being deserved to be treated as if they were equals, even if rank or station were higher or lower. It was called common decency, where he was from. Apparently, it did not prevail in Samuel’s philosophies. “Our policy has been to help the sick for free,” Cimir said, taking a breath to calm down. “We don’t change that policy based on someone’s wealth. And besides, you’re punishing a boy for the actions of a rich man. Hardly seems fair.”
Samuel shrugged. “Ah, you’re right. You’re right. I’ll give the house back.”
“Are you saying this because you believe you were wrong or because I’m the one who has the power to deny creating more magical trinkets for you to sell?”
Samuel looked at Cimir. “That’s awfully cynical. If you haven’t noticed, my modus operandi is to act first and think about it later.”
That much made sense. Samuel did look a bit ashamed of himself, now that his sins were being called to light. “Yeah, I suppose I’m being too harsh. Give the house back, or at least buy it for its worth,” Cimir said. “And let’s not do this again.”
Samuel nodded. “Sure thing. I don’t think we could afford this place yet, anyway. Guess I got too ahead of myself.”
“One step at a time,” Cimir said. “We don’t need to make enemies by making stupid mistakes. That rich man will thank you today and resent you tomorrow for taking advantage of him during his weakest hour.”
Chapter 11:
Valkhorn laughed as he swatted the warrior away, as if the man were nothing more than a sack of potatoes. The steel wearing soldier cried out in agony as he crashed against the stone wall, the force of the blow embedding him into the solid structure.
The Endless Legion was doing quite well for its second outing. Valkhorn’s core group, now eight men strong, were easily overpowering the Sunbiters, an organization that worshipped the Sun and believed that it would give them the strength to win battles. Nighttime had come for them, it would appear. The small guild headquarters, based out of the Sun District, could do little to repel men with supernatural strength from breaking in and slaughtering them all.
Tadmin laughed as one of the smaller fighters leapt from behind cover and charged at him with twin daggers. The blades should have sunk into Tadmin’s exposed neck, but instead they simply bounced off, leaving the junior warrior to finish the rogue off with a clean slash to the face, dropping him to the ground.
“Enough!” cried the newest Sunbiter leader, Erice of Sunar. She was the strongest of the group, but now laid on the ground, crumpled and wounded. “We yield!”
“You yield?” Valkhorn asked as he looked around. The headquarters was damaged, bodies were everywhere and not a warrior was left standing. “No, my friend, you have been obliterated.”
“Please, do you not follow the rules of the Guild Peace? We have done well to stay in our own territory,” Erice pleaded. “The Sworn Blades have no- “
“Sworn Blades?” Valkhorn shouted as he banged his fist on his chest. “We are not with them. Do you see us cowering from a fight? Do you see us trying to solve problems with weak words?”
“Then who are you?”
“We are the Endless Legion,” Valkhorn said. “We cannot die. We cannot be destroyed.”
Erice sighed at that and slumped her head down. “You are the victors. I shall join the Sun in glorious brightness.”
“You will do no such thing,” Valkhorn said as he dropped a crystal next to her. “We are Endless. You will become Endless too.”
“You do not seek to kill me?” Erice asked.
“I would kill anyone who refuses me,’ Valkhorn said. “But why would you and those who have survived refuse? We wield powers unlike any other. We ourselves have become weapons, at no price other than our gold. Join us and you will wield powers too. And united, we shall strike our true enemy.”
“And who is that?” Erice asked.
“The very city that stole our magic. That dimmed the strength of the Sun Clerics who once fought to bravely,” Valkhorn replied.
Erice slowly nodded. “Very well. I am yours, as are my people.”
Valkhorn grinned. That was one down, seven to go. He didn’t much care if this woman was giving lip service, promising to serve if only to betray him later. At least it would be a fight and that’s all he gave a damn about.
Edwardo the Falcon rapped on the stone wall. It was a false wall, he knew, one containing the solution to a very serious problem that he and his people were facing. Behind him were his men, fighters and thugs, ready to put to rest any issues that would come up in this meeting. While he wished that things could be less hostile, the situation at hand was dire. They had precious little time before The Endless Legion set upon them.
There was no answer. Edwardo knocked again, this time, pounding his fist against the false wall. It echoed enough for him to know that his informant had been correct. Two men, carrying a large battering ram, glanced at him impatiently, but he signaled for them to wait. They stood in stoic silence, awaiting the answer. But none came.
“Friends,” Edwardo hissed. “If this door doesn’t open up, we shall open it for you, and it would be a great crime for you to have your operation so exposed. I shall count to three.”
Before Edwardo could get the words out, the false wall slid open and a pale young man greeted them.
“H-hello?” he asked.
Edwardo nodded to his fighters. They pushed past him and grabbed hold of the young man, slamming him against the bookshelf inside of the workshop. A few of the others posted guard as Edwardo entered the secret lab.
“Quite the place you have here,” Edwardo said, eying the strange kiln set up by the fire. A few gems were precariously placed in slots above the flames. He didn’t understand what he was seeing, and that excited him. Magic was difficult for people like Edwardo to understand. But at least this meant that his informants had been correct about two things.
“Hey, let me go!” the young man shouted as he struggled in vain.
“Relax, my boy, I’m just here to talk,” Edwardo said as he turned to face the man. “I am Edwardo, but you can call me Falcon.”
“I’m Cimir,” he replied. “And I would appreciate it if you would have your goons unhand me,”
Edwardo nodded to his goons and they released Cimir. The man scrambled to get in front of the kiln. Mumbling a few words, he stretched his hands out. Small sparks flickered between his fingers.
“You can’t let your work rest for a moment?” Edwardo asked as he watched the energy crackle back and forth. Small bursts of yellow power came forth from Cimir’s hands, pushing their way into the grey crystal. It was fascinating.
“If I stop now, it will explode,” Cimir replied. He mumbled a few more strange words, moving his hands in arcane ways.
One of the goons went to grab Cimir again, but Edwardo held up his hand. They were not there to damage the crafter. He had been hoping to find the silver-tongued jackass that often went door to door, selling magic spells as if they were silverware, but the man was nowhere to be seen. Cimir was of the utmost value, it would seem.
“There,” Cimir said as he released his gaze on the fire and turned to face Edwardo. “Now, what do you want? Samuel takes orders, not me.”
“Have a seat,” Edwardo said, pointing to the chair next to the table. “We have much to discuss.”
“Do we?” Cimir asked as he complied, sitting down in the chair, but keeping his guard up.
“We do,” Edwardo chuckled as he sat ac
ross from him. “I represent the Brotherhood of Arms. Soldiers of Fortune who have a strong presence in Glimmer because of its tactical location. Smack dab in the middle of just about every warmongering nation in the land is a great place to have a base. We can provide supplies, weapons, logistics. Everything a mercenary organization needs.”
“I see,” Cimir said, frowning a little.
“But things have been difficult for us lately. For you see, a large hulking beast of a man and his ever-increasing goon squad have been smashing through our headquarters and ignoring our poison tipped arrows as if their skin was made of steel,” Edwardo said, narrowing his eyes. “And my friends have managed to identify you as their special little helper.”
“We’ll sell to you the same as we sell to them,” Cimir said. “But that’s Samuel’s department.”
“I see,” Edwardo said. He nodded to one of his men, Igniac. Igniac drew out a knife and stormed up to Cimir, placing the blade inches across from Cimir’s eye.
“Stop! Please!” Cimir gasped.
Edwardo leaned forward and grinned. “That blade hovering so close to your eye? Well, that could very well be this Endless Legion hovering so close to us. We’ll take whatever you have, and you’ll stop selling to them.”
“Uhhhh,” Cimir gasped. “I don’t think you understand the situation.”
“Oh? Please, enlighten me.”
“You’ve kicked in the door of a powerful sorcerer and now you’re threatening to kill him if he doesn’t comply with your petulant demands,” Cimir said. “Did you even stop for a second to consider if he could simply use those powers you fear to kill you all?”
Edwardo paused at that. The information he had been given so far was that crystals were the source of power. Did Cimir possesses magical abilities beyond manipulating crystals? He did not know if the man was bluffing or not.
“Take his eye, let’s see if he’s telling the truth,” Edwardo said.
Cimir began to shriek in some strange tongue, as if he were hissing. Bolts of energy coursed from his hands, blasting out and striking at random targets, did little more than singe cloth and wood. Igniac stabbed Cimir in the eye, eliciting another horrifying scream.
Cimir cried as he clutched his eye, falling to the ground. The energy waves ceased pulsating as the assassin stood over him, chuckling a little.
“I guess you were lying,” Edwardo said. “What a shame. Now then, I would suggest you take this as a warning. Stop selling whatever magic you have to Valkhorn. If my eyes and ears catch any wind of you so much as talking to them, I’m going to come back and slit your throat.” He nodded to his men. They quickly began sacking the place, grabbing crystals and books, taking whatever, they could get their hands on.
“Ahhhh,” Cimir moaned as he rolled around on the ground, clutching at his face.
“And another thing,” Edwardo said before they took their leave. “Don’t ever make the mistake of trying to bluff the Falcon. I’ll be sending one of my messengers later this week to place an order. Make sure your little salesman is there. The only reason you aren’t dead is because we have use for you.”
Cimir did nothing more than hiss angrily at Edwardo. The Falcon didn’t understand why the boy was hissing, but he certainly didn’t care. He had gotten exactly what he wanted.
Cimir slowly roused to consciousness. He realized that he was no longer in the lab but was instead laying in a bed. His head ached, and he could feel a serious tenderness in his left eye. For some reason, he was unable to open it to look around. After a few minutes, memories came flooding back and he realized, most unfortunately, that his eye was gone. Gouged by his foes. Whoever the hell they were, they weren’t joking around.
“There he is,” Samuel said as he entered the room. “You doing okay?”
“I was attacked. In the lab,” Cimir replied. “No, I’m not doing anywhere close to okay.”
“A few magical words and I’m sure you can fix the eye, right? I mean, it shouldn’t be that hard,” Samuel said.
“Where am I? This doesn’t look like a hospital,” Cimir asked. He crossed his arms and scowled. No doubt Samuel had taken him to some underground healer’s den, who would have questionable medical expertise.
“The house,” Samuel said. “I decided to rent the place instead of outright buying it. So, what happened?”
Cimir sighed and shook his head. The aching in his eye was unbelievably painful. “Some unkindly gentlemen accosted me and made some rather persuasive threats about selling our wares to your thug friends.”
“They robbed the place too. Everything’s gone. Books, crystals, all they left behind was your weird kiln thingie,” Samuel said. “So…are we out of business?”
“Not quite,” Cimir replied. “I keep a few spare crystals hidden away, buried out in a field not too far from here, coincidentally. For emergencies.”
“I’m not talking about the lack of crystals, I mean we could always buy more,” Samuel said as he sat on the edge of the bed. He looked at Cimir with a weary, worried expression. Samuel never seemed more distressed than at this exact moment, which was oddly alarming to Cimir. “I mean that if some thugs were able to find and almost kill you, then maybe we should just quit this operation entirely.”
“You weren’t so afraid when you got robbed,” Cimir replied as he began to fidget with the bandage wrapped around his eye. He would need to fix this before an infection came in.
“Yeah, well I’ve been mugged plenty of times, okay? This was different from a well-deserved ass-kicking. You were targeted.”
“It would seem our actions have deeper consequences than first realized,” Cimir said with a sigh. He pulled the sheets back and climbed out of the bed. “Maybe we shouldn’t have sold to such troublemakers.”
“Where are you going?” Samuel asked. He stood up and placed a hand out to prevent Cimir from walking any further out the door. “You’re in no condition to be walking around. The doctor said you need to rest for at least a few days, on account of the blood loss.”
“Well, then you’ll have to carry me. We need those crystals if I’m going to heal without the help of some two bit con-artist you call a doctor,” Cimir wheezed. He felt his legs buckle as he fully put his weight onto them. He wobbled and fell onto Samuel, who caught him easily enough.
“Just tell me where they are, and I’ll get them,” Samuel replied.
“No, you won’t know how to see them, you aren’t trained to sense magic like I am.”
Samuel shrugged and placed Cimir back on the bed. “Alright, I’ll carry you. But… I gotta ask. You said that your magic still worked somewhat. Why couldn’t you defend yourself back there?”
Cimir’s face darkened. “I was exhausted. The old ways of magic are tiring and creating crystals takes quite a bit of energy from me. I couldn’t do much.” Of course, that was going to change. It was a terrible and foolish mistake, for Cimir to believe that they would be able to operate quietly and without much danger. Samuel was a loudmouth and while he made for a great salesman, he wasn’t discreet enough. No, this attack was Cimir’s fault. He should have made preparations for violence, he should have crafted crystals to aid him. He was a world class sorcerer, a Skisara of the highest training. He would not allow for his enemies to get the advantage over him again.
Chapter 12:
Samuel waited in nervous silence underneath one of the many bridges of Glimmer. These simple structures were built as a means to allow the magically created river to flow through the entire city, giving the people a much needed resource. Fortunately, the mages and architects who founded the city so long ago foresaw magical plagues and powerful cancelling spells, and so created the river in such a way that it would flow, even if there was no magic. He hated to think how terrible conditions would become if the waters suddenly dried up.
The night passed with little event. A city guard would walk by every now and then, atop the overpass. His job was to make sure no thieves were about, sneaking into the homes of the
common people and taking their silver. He had no idea that every week, Samuel would meet with a client or two to share with them his highly illegal wares. It was a shame, because if the guard did know, his pay would have been bumped up quite a bit.
Finally, Valkhorn emerged from the shadows. He wore several new scars on his face, and a scowl that was far more ugly.
“Your magics have weakened,” he growled, pointing to a particularly nasty cut across his nose. Samuel shook his head at that.
“No, you’ve been using crystals more than once per day. They don’t hold charges if you keep overusing them.”
Theft, Murder, and Crystals Page 6