by Harlon Banks
"Careful who you threaten, it may come back to haunt you in the future." Her words were cold and lacking any sliver of hesitation. Draven chuckling to himself as he waved off her threat dismissively. Not at all worried about it in the slightest. He had the leverage here, not her, it was time to remind her who she answered to.
"It's a cruel world, Miss Yelkath. Your actions in life allowed me to take advantage of your predicament and use you as a tool for my own gains. The strong do not rule the world, but the smart do! A perfect example being you and me don't you think? Hehehe..."
"Just tell me what it is you want." Liariana said with a cold and empty, clenching her right fist at her side tightly and cursing herself for walking into this trap so easily. Oh well... at this point in her life, she had nowhere else to go. She couldn't go back home, not now...
Not yet...
"Now that's what I like to hear. Compliance and acceptance. A fine young woman of your ancestry and abilities will be perfect for what's to come." The green-eyed man tossed his now dead cigar to the side like a piece of paper and approached Liariana. Despite his earlier boasting of having leverage against the woman, he still seemed hesitant to get to close to her. The stare alone she possessed being enough to unnerve him ever so slightly.
"Relax, despite my words I mean you know harm. Once you have done a few things for me I'll burn all the evidence I have of your crimes right before those ominous eyes of yours and tell you something I'm sure you'd love to here. But till then let's try to be friends, ok? Help an old man settle a few debts so to speak?" Draven's tone was more friendly now as he extended a hand out to the woman. Liariana not breaking away from the stare she gave, her eyes alone showing just how cold and empty she was when looking at him. When he looked into her gaze, Draven felt as if she wasn't viewing him as a human, but as something not even worth pitying.
"Sigh... You Yelkath really are a dangerous line of people... but I must do what I must. I brought you to this Group because they've hired more outsiders to do particularly delicate and dangerous jobs for them. One of these jobs requires the retrieval of a very interesting artifact from a set of ruins closed off to the public." Draven began explaining while backing away from Liariana and giving her space. The woman not saying a word, continuing to stare at him like he was some hollowed out husk.
"The Archive Group has erected a barrier around the only entrance to the ruins as insurance that nobody else gets to the treasure within without working out a contract with them. Biggest reason I haven't been able to get into there myself with my other goons shortly after it was discovered." Draven sighed scratching his short well-trimmed brown hair.
"Your voice is really irritating me." Liariana said with empty tone but malice ever growing in her sharp gaze.
"A cheeky one you are, sigh." The man shook his head exasperated at her attitude. "My point is, the Archive Is only taking in exceptional applicants for this job. It's rated high on the danger scale, the applicants must have prowess that goes above and beyond normal expectations to make sure low mortality and higher success. So, you basically have to be a Nightborn to get any hope of getting the job. You not only being a Nightborn but also a Yelkath who's bloodline has a history of prodigious individuals guarantees you will get into the ruins. See where this is going?" Draven paused, letting all of this sink into her head. Liariana's hard stare shifted into one of calm disbelief and irritation.
"You searched all over the world for a Yelkath when you could have gotten any old Nightborn to do such a simple task? What a waste of time." She scoffed closing her eyes and shaking her head. "Nightborn are not rare to the point that asinine logic was required. Tell me what you really called me here for other than to make me a puppet." The Yelkath demanded keeping a glassy tone. Draven's features turning into a wide grin. She was meeting every expectation he had of her.
"Clever girl... True, I didn't need to go that far to get someone, but you should understand not all Nightborn are useful. I am a man who seeks the best, and in my eyes, the Yelkath are the best of the best to choose from. The history behind your ancestors says it all. Having you fetch it for me is but a guaranteed success I'll get it. Once you retrieve the artifact, bring it to me and not the Group and I'll complete my end of the bargain. Don't worry about using your powers after tonight either, Kynerva is ignorant of much of the history beyond the sea to the east and the natives rarely leave this place. While the Yelkath aren't known much to the public here, the Archive Group is without a doubt going to know about your ancestors and their sinister endeavors. You'll be a bit of a shocker to them, but here in Kynerva you're a free woman let us remember that! Your crimes in the East don't matter here, but as the law says... You aren't exempt from being hunted and brought back so let's try to be civil yes?" He reminded with a smile. Liariana not even bothering with giving him a response and merely turned to take her leave.
There clearly was something he wasn't telling her, but trying to get it out of him without torturing him wasn't in the cards at the moment for her. The price of asylum in Kynerva paid with the shady dealings of this man. It was disgusting to think about.
"This is the beginning of a wonderful friendship Liariana! I programmed the phone I had given you with several numbers that'll be important for us to keep in contact. It's left in your living quarters. The Group begins its contracting tomorrow, be sure to show up on time!" He smiled wide and cheeky.
With that said, Draven pressed off the wall and lit another cigar as he took his own leave. Another sly sneer etching itself across his pudgy features as he walked, cupping his hand around the lighter that matched his cigar before enjoying a nice long inhale; and then an exhale...
"You are right though, Miss Yelkath. There's another reason I sanctioned you to Kynerva after a long hunt, but till then, be a good girl for me."
Bad Impressions
The Challenger Chapter Eight - Bad Impressions
Jonath idly held onto the leather handle suspended beside him with his left hand as the train rocked gently every few seconds. His soft colorless eyes peeking through thick bangs of platinum silver hair that hung over his pale facial features; with all this hair on his head it was surprising he never thought about giving himself a haircut. Looking down at his attire again in idle thought over his choice of clothing. It was a simple outfit consisting of a long-sleeved black thermal shirt with a matching wind breaker hooded jacket over it, long black pants that fit his legs rather comfortably without being too baggy or too skinny and lastly a pair of high top sneaker with black body and white soles as well as fingerless gloves. If he could describe his appearance in one word Jonath probably would write it off as "preppy". Like he was the son of some parent who bought him all the stylish clothes to look good or something.
The metal train sped along the railways with the speed of a bullet, the entire ride rather smooth and quiet. Nobody really seemed to be talking on the train, everyone basically minding their own business or napping in the early morning hours. Adjusting the strap of the black messenger bag slung across the right shoulder and housing the books he'd checked out yesterday. He'd read the former in their entirety and his eyes were still a bit strained from all the reading. People appearing blurry every now and again as his vision tried to sharpen itself back into clarity. His right hand which was comfortably nestled in his pocket raised up to brush away the bangs that framed his face and obstructed his right eye a bit; finger then playing with the end of it that reached down to the base of his neck as Jeremy flashed in his mind for but a moment.
"Your hair makes you look like a girl kid. Ain't it just the perfect spiky silver color with all the features of a pretty boy? Hahahaha!" The old man's cackling played like a broken record in the depths of his mind...
Jonath didn't even notice the deadpan on his face. Jeremy's words irritating him and making him contemplate growing a masculine beard so the man could stop calling him whatever that term was he used? Bishounen? Whatever? The train found itself halting, and Jonath very casually
moved to exit. The entire walk from the station through the Groups District was a rather quiet and peaceful one; he didn't say anything to anyone or do anything other than walk. Occasionally glancing up at the cursed sky of eternal darkness already sick of looking at the moon non-stop every time he went out for a walk. Hands resting in his pockets once more and eyes narrowing sleepily with a yawn.
"All that damn reading... Got like less than three hours of sleep." The amnesic grumbled eventually coming across the gates of the Archive Group where there was a rather much more noticeable crowd than usual standing outside of the gates. Stopping in the far back of the crowd the young man stood on the tips of his feet to look over the crowd. Very quickly zoning in on Kelarin and Dal standing outside the gates with clipboards and pens scribbling and calling names among the crowd. Kelarin with his shoulder length black hair tied into a ponytail and wearing all black like his mentor Dal. Jonath lowering himself back on the flats of his feet, head leaning to the right and asking a tall robust dark-skinned man wearing steel armor a simple question.
"Did I miss the party or something? Why's everyone standing outside this place like we're about to head into a brothel?" Jonath asked with the most lackadaisical yawn following. The burly and muscular man looking down a couple of inches to Jonath who himself was still looking ahead in the most idled posture he could muster. He didn't seem to want to really be standing around all day listening to people call off lists.
"These are all people who have applied for the recent contracting missions the Group was looking to hire for lad." The warriors voice was rather gentle, which actually made Jonath blink and veer his gaze up incredulously in disbelief at the taller person. "They're calling out the names of those who have been hired so to speak, they just started so if you applied you haven't missed being called yet." He said turning his attention back to Dal waving her hand and pointing at someone in the crowd to come on inside the Group. Jonath casting his own gaze towards the bright blue haired woman in silence, his expression calm and lazy. Another memory of last night flashing through his mind about the flyer she handed to him.
"You can use my address for it sure kid, glad to see you already hopped on the ball for work." Jeremy's words rang in the air as he and Jonath sat on the couch together a person's length apart. Jonath signing the bottom with some cursive writing when he finished and sliding the slip of parchment to Jeremy who grabbed it and headed out the door. "I'll tie this to a messenger eagle at a post down the street, actually... you come with me kid. You need to learn how to do stuff like this yourself."
"Do I have to? I'm kind of sleepy at the moment." Jonath groggy replied feigning fatigue trying to get out of doing anything. Unfortunately for him, Jeremy wasn't about to budge; that glare in his eyes saying enough. Jonath snorting to himself and getting up to follow the guy out after sliding on some slippers too lazy to put on real shoes.
Snapping out of his little flashback Jonath blinked when he started hearing Dal call out names again under the light of the bright moon. A few people moving inside of the gates as she gestured and Kelarin scribbled something down on his own clipboard with a bright smile to all who were selected. Glancing back over to the large man to his right with a lazy glance Jonath yawned again. This eternal night crap was messing with his internal clock and it was getting really annoying.
"Jonath?" Dal called out over the hushed whispers of the crowd. The amnesic suddenly turning his stare back to the cyan features of the girl attentively. Did she just call his name? The bulky warrior beside him noticing his sudden shift in attentiveness and nudging the young man on the arm.
"That you kid? If so better get to moving! They don't wait too long on a name if you don't hurry up they scratch you off and move to the next." He warned. Jonath blinking a bit, then hesitating a moment before finally pushing through the crowd of candidates hands in pockets and posture relaxing once again. Another yawn leaving his lips, he steps into the front of the gates and quickly looked towards Dal again who smiled briefly at him and waved. The taller man approaching with a slight nod of his head in greeting, stopping a couple of feet in front of her as their eyes met. Kelarin smiling even harder when he saw Jonath, almost wanting to scream and rush the man to catch his attention.
"Hi Jon, welcome back!" Dal said with a warm expression tucking the clipboard in the armpit of her black jacket.
"Jon?" Jonath repeated that word back at her with a furrowed brow. Dal nodding to him and clearing her throat in response.
"Yes, I give nicknames to people I meet if their real name feels odd to say too many times. I call Kelarin Kel for example. Jon sounds more eloquent and pretty than Jonath don't you think?" She tilted her head as bright blue bangs swept across her sun kissed features and cyan eyes.
"Eh... I guess." Jonath shrugged looking off to the side. "Long as it doesn't sound too girly or something. Anyway that didn't take long..." He snorted looking inside the courtyard of the Group again with narrowed eyes at a small group of people in the center by the fountain. There didn't seem to be many who were accepted, made him wonder how the hell he got in despite showing no promise beforehand? Was this all randomized? That hardly seemed like a professional way to handle selections...
"I think the name Jon is pretty cute. Give it a while it'll grow on you, promise." Dal snickered gesturing with her pen over her shoulder at the group behind her inside. Her eyes never leaving Jon's as she spoke. "Anyway can't hold up the list so we'll talk later yeah? Just head inside and wait till the Group Leader comes out to brief you." Dal then gestured absently to Kelarin who waved when Jonath turned his head to look at him with a small nod of acknowledgement and walking inside right as Dal called out the name...
"Liariana... Yelkath... ?" Dal put emphasis on the surname.
Jonath stopped walking having only taken a few steps when he heard the rather peculiar tone in Dal's words. She sounded as if she was in disbelief, the noticeable furrow of her features only confirmed his accusation. Peering over his shoulder at the crowd of applicants, none seeming to share her astonishment over the name. Was this a personal reason Dal was so surprised or was the text Jonath read about Kynerva being an extreme isolationism nation true? Was this Yelkath person a foreigner? Come to think of it was he a foreigner? Why did he never ask himself that question? Or... Did he? Jonath briefly distracted himself thinking about that.
"There's a Yelkath here... ?" Dal tensed up with wide eyes as her heart began to flutter. Kelarin creeping up beside Jon and tugging on his jacket tail catching the amnesic's attention with a raised brow. Staring peculiarly down at Kelarin which soon became a blank stare.
"What do you want kid?" Jonath asked after a rather delayed bit of staring.
"What's a Yelkath?" Kelarin asked with inquisitive eyes in response.
"No idea, ask your girl friend." Jonath said abruptly looking away. "Now let me go I got to get moving." He muttered trying to not sound abrasive but clearly showing he wanted to continue on his way. Kelarin quickly letting him go and apologizing; moving back to his post and scratching off another name on the clipboard. Jonath turning just in time to avoid bumping into a slightly shorter young woman who caught him off guard. She had disheveled, shoulder length hair of the deepest black and powerfully distinct red eyes, peering through bangs of black that framed both sides of her face to the base of her neck. Her pale features accentuated by a solidly endowed figure... Her attire consisting of a sleeveless black shirt with a turtle neck, both her arms wrapped in black bandages from shoulder to fingers; some of the bandage ends hanging loosely off her limbs. Black pants that accentuated her legs complimented by what looked to be open toed thigh high combat boots... Jonath had to admit that she was an eye catcher, even to him...
Dal stared; her eyes wide and gaze locked on to the woman before her as if she'd seen something straight out of a fable.
"You're a Yelkath... They aren't extinct..." Dal muttered in disbelief watching Liariana pass. The solemn looking foreigner only glancing between her and Jonath
without stopping as she walked inside to the courtyard fountain. Jonath then looking at Dal, snorting at the fact she were still stunned with some plain shock over that woman who just passed. Yelkath... Apparently that surname held some weight to it. He'd ponder asking Dal what the deal was about that surname but quickly decided he didn't care enough to ask. A lazy shrug and his hands adjusted inside his pockets as he idly spoke while walking into the courtyard behind Liariana.
"You still got a list to call out you know? Better get to it princess." He yawned again with a more irritated attitude towards himself following suit. "I swear I need to stop fucking yawning. This is getting really damn annoying." He cursed.
Dal snapped out of her trance damn near dropping her clipboard as she recollected herself. Kelarin eye rolling at the woman while waving briefly to Jon and returning to his duties as well. Pen pressing to pad as he furiously scribbled again while sticking his tongue halfway out his mouth. "Today's going to be a fun day alright." He mused to himself.
About ten minutes later... Jonath was surrounded by maybe all of fifteen people out of what initially was at least fifty standing outside the gates. Of that large a group, only fifteen were accepted for whatever this job was... if he recalled correctly it had something to do with finding a relic or some shit. Pale eyes glancing around at the competition, none seeming to stand out too much from him aside from the typical looking like mercenaries, thugs or ordinary losers like himself trying to make some quick cash. He wondered if these people were Nightborn like himself as well... Or at least that's what Jeremy called him. Arms raising up to hook around the back of his head at the base of his neck Jonath cast his gaze up to the Diurnal District above higher on the mountain side. The eerie ringing of that bell chiming in the deepest folds of his memory. That was a sound he'd not forget any time soon...