The Third Eye Initiative

by J. J. Newman

  A final desperate plan entered his mind. It was dangerous and almost certain to fail, but what else could he do? Elias would burst from the side of the house and try to outrun the guards still in the yard to the gate. He knew it was unlikely that he could outrun them all, considering his injuries and the fact that they were almost at his hiding place already. Even if he somehow managed to reach the gate, there was almost no chance he could open the gate and escape before he was captured and cut down. But it was all he had to work with, and no other opportunity had presented itself.

  Gathering his resolve, Elias entered an awkward running limp and left the side of the mansion and entered the yard. Three guards were almost right in front of him, with one running slightly ahead of the other two. More guards were coming from across the yard. As hard as he could, Elias threw his dagger into the leg of the front guard. The guard fell and the two behind him tripped over their falling companion. That would buy Elias a few seconds.

  Elias locked his gaze on the large barred gate across the yard. He had no weapons left, which meant that any attempt at fighting was out of the question. He resolved not to look at the guards and just focus on his goal. He heard the men pursuing him. By the sounds of it, they were closing the distance quickly. He pushed it from his mind.

  His breathe came out in labored gasps. His legs were weakening and he knew that he would probably fall before he reached the gate. Having the chance to open it seemed and absurd hope. He glared at the gate as if his determination alone could force it open. It didn’t.

  Behind him he heard a grunt. Then another. He ignored it. He limped on, each step forward a colossal undertaking, with each step after being even worse. Several guards were shouting. They sounded more distant than he thought was possible. He wondered how he could possibly still be alive.

  Then he was at the gate. He slammed into it hard, unable to stop his momentum. To his shock, the gates swung open and he fell painfully into the street. They were unlocked. How could that be? He tried to rise back to his feet, but he had no strength left. Instead he crawled to the shadows of the wall to the right of the gate.

  With no small effort, he forced himself into a sitting position with his back to the wall. He was right beside the open gate, and watched through the bars for the inevitable pursuit of guards to emerge from the compound yard. They never came.

  Elias suddenly realized that he didn’t hear any sounds coming from the yard at all. He leaned on the gate, causing it to swing inwards ever so slightly. It was enough so that he could view the yard through the bars. His breath caught in his throat. The guards were all lying on the cobblestone. They were dead. How?

  He straightened his position against the wall, and was no longer leaning towards the yard. He stared into the dark streets before him. He would have to try and stand again soon. He needed to be away from here. What had happened to the guards? How had he escaped?

  Suddenly the shadow of the wall seemed to grow, and stretch out further into the street, the addition taking on a humanoid shape. He looked up to see a dark figure in a dark tattered cloak crouched on the wall above him.

  “Who told ya to go after Dormic?” a harsh, grating voice demanded.

  Elias let his head sink down to his chest, and said nothing at all.

  ***

  “I haven’t seen you in two weeks. Not one word. Then you just show up like nothing is wrong, demanding sex?” Cyra seemed pretty mad.

  “I wasn’t demanding sex, Cyra.” Tsaeris argued. It hadn’t been a demand, more a tactful suggestion.

  “Where the hell have you been? You were supposed to come back soon and tell me what night you had off so we could do something. That was two bloody weeks ago,” Cyra glared at Tsaeris from across the bedroom. Tsaeris was glad that the bed separated them. Cyra seemed like she might be in the hitting mood.

  “I was busy with work.”

  “Work? You have symbols carved into your chest and what looks like a recently sliced open belly,” Cyra was grinding her teeth in hurt and anger.

  It was a baffling lapse of good judgment and an incredibly stupid mistake when he had decided to sneak into Cyra’s room while she was away and wait for her naked in her bed to surprise her. He had forgotten about his scars. Hard to explain away with a job at a shipyard.

  “Oh, that? Yeah, I was attacked by some Purity Union guys for being an elf. Which is why I was gone for so long. Was at the clinic.” Tsaeris saw concern enter her eyes. He decided to use it to his advantage. “It was awful, Cyra. I thought I was dead. I thought I would never see you again.”

  “Why didn’t you send somebody to tell me?” she asked.

  “I was unconscious for most of the time. I only got out a few days ago,” Tsaeris replied.

  “You’ve been back for a few days, and you only come see me now?” The concern had turned back into anger. “And this is how you tell me? Lying naked in my bed?”

  “Alright, that was stupid. I admit it. I just thought that since it’s been so long since we saw each other...”

  “Is that all I am to you?” Cyra was getting even angrier. It was time to try reasoning with her.

  “Why are you so offended? You’re a whore, after all.” Tsaeris flinched as Cyra’s eyes widened. That was stupid. What the hell was wrong with him tonight?

  “Get out,” Cyra hissed.

  “Come on, Cyra. We haven’t seen each other in so long. Don’t be like this,” Tsaeris pleaded.

  “Out,” she hissed again.

  “Why don’t we just start over? We could still have a good night, Cy.”

  “Do I need to have somebody come and throw you out?” Cyra threatened.

  “You know what? To hell with this.” Tsaeris was suddenly angry himself. “I don’t need this shit. I’ll just go see Niivi.”

  “Who?” Cyra asked, her voice shifting into a tone of anger tinged with hurt.

  “You’re not the only one who can have sex with whoever you want,” Tsaeris said sharply.

  “That’s not fair. This is my job.”

  “Yeah, well Niivi is as good as you ever were, and doesn’t pile all of this stupid drama on me. And at least I know that the men who have been between her legs don’t number in the thousands!”

  “You...” And then Cyra started to cry. Her sobs sounded of hurt and betrayal.

  “Oh, come on. You started this. And you have sex with lots of people. Why is it such a big deal that I had sex with someone else?”

  “Please...” Cyra said. “I want you to leave.”

  “Cyra...”

  “Now. And don’t ever come back. Not ever.”

  Tsaeris gave her one last look, and then left the room slamming the door behind him. He stormed out of the brothel, a walking concentrate of thunder cloud. The cold night air did little to cool the heat in his face.

  It seemed that every time he tried to get close to Cyra, it always ended in a fight. The girl was so damn touchy. He was able to admit to himself that his angry words had gone a bit too far, but it never would have happened if Cyra hadn’t gotten so unreasonably mad at him. Maybe he would just stick with Niivi. She was more like him. Laid back, and she didn’t seem to be a big fan of drama.

  He walked in the direction of the Tarnished Tankard. Maybe Niivi would be there. He hoped she would be, as he needed something to take his mind of Cyra. He heard a sound coming from an alley as he passed and glanced in its direction. He froze.

  Standing at the mouth of the alley was a large cloaked figure, looking at him. All thoughts of Cyra and Niivi fled his mind. He recognized the form. It was him. The man who had attacked him. The man who had killed Aedrus’ father. Tsaeris’ eye burned in fury, and he was made bold by his anger at Cyra and his anger at this man.

  “Come back for more?” Tsaeris yelled. The figure did not move. “Well come on! Come on! You son of a bitch!”

  Still the large figure remained still and silent. Tsaeris knew this was dangerous, but for some reason he wanted this fight. He had no reason to thin
k it would end differently, but he didn’t care. He was angry, and wanted to vent that anger on someone. Who better than him?

  “Come on, you Union prick. You just going to stand there? You want me? I’m right here!”

  The large cloaked figure took one slow step into the street, then suddenly turned around and walked back into the alley. The darkness enveloped the man, and he was gone. Tsaeris was confused as to why the man had just left, until he heard the telltale sounds of armored boot on cobblestone, signaling the approach of a City Watch patrol. A group of six watchmen approached Tsaeris.

  “You there. Elf,” one of the watchmen said.

  “Yeah?” Tsaeris replied.

  “You should get off the streets. It’s dangerous for your kind right now.”

  “Yeah, I think I’ll take your advice,” Tsaeris said.

  “Would you like an escort?” The man offered.

  “I’m alright, thanks. I don’t have far to go.”

  The patrol continued on, and Tsaeris headed back towards the tavern. His anger was muted now, and he began to berate himself silently. That was stupid. Now that his head had cooled, he realized that he would almost certainly be dead right now had that patrol not come along. What was he thinking, challenging that man like that? His stupid anger had almost gotten him killed. It was rare for his emotions to so thoroughly overwhelm his survival instincts like that.

  He walked faster, afraid that the big man might still be nearby waiting to kill him. He didn’t want to be caught by him again. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief when he saw the hanging sign with a picture of a rusted tankard illuminated in torch light. He jogged the last short distance, and entered the tavern.

  Only a few agents occupied the tables. It was a slow night. He scanned the room, and saw Elias and Tyrier sitting at a table. Tyrier was cleaning a wound in Elias’ shoulder. Tsaeris went to the bar and ordered a drink, then went to join the two men.

  “What the hell happened to you?” Tsaeris asked.

  “Where the hell have you been?” Elias asked, glaring at him.

  “I spent most of the day at the safe house, and then went to see Cyra.”

  “You’re a novice, Tsaeris. You need to be where I can find you at all times, do you understand?” Elias said angrily.

  “I was at the safe house,” Tsaeris said again, taking a long pull of his ale.

  “You never go to the safe house.”

  “Well, today I did. What’s the big deal? Was there something I needed to do? I haven’t gone with you on a mission in a while. Figured I was safe.” Why was everyone being so unreasonable tonight?

  “Don’t push me tonight, boy,” Elias threatened.

  “I’m not pushing anything, Elias. You’re the one who’s being pissy. I just came to have a drink. It’s clear that you got the shit kicked out of you, but don’t take that out on me.”

  Elias began to stand up, looking like he was about to punch Tsaeris in the face, but was forced back into his seat by the big Doctor.

  “I think you two need to calm down. Tempers are high, I get it. But there’s no need to start throwing words or fists around,” Tyrier said.

  “I just wanted to join you two for a drink,” Tsaeris said again. “If I’m not welcome, I’ll leave.”

  “You’re not welcome. Find another table, but don’t leave the tavern,” Elias said.

  Tsaeris looked to Tyrier, who just shrugged. Tsaeris stood up and grabbed his ale.

  “Fine,” He said, and headed to an empty table.

  Tsaeris sat alone at a table feeling both angry and confused. It seemed like everyone he tried to spend time with tonight would jump down his throat for no reason. What was their problem? A ray of hope appeared before long in the form of Niivi, who came down the stairs into the common room. She made her way to Tsaeris’ table and sat down opposite him.

  “Long time no see, Tsaeris. I heard what happened to you,” Niivi said.

  “Let’s go for a walk, Niivi. I need some air,” Tsaeris said.

  “Alright. Let me get my cloak.” Niivi disappeared for a few minutes, and then returned wearing a heavy brown cloak.

  Tsaeris stood up and Niivi and he headed towards the door.

  “I told you not to leave the tavern,” Elias said loudly from his table.

  “Piss off,” Tsaeris called back to him, and then pushed his way angrily through the door.

  Tsaeris knew he was taking a risk going back into the streets after his encounter with the large cloaked man, but he just couldn’t handle being around Elias right now. He didn’t plan to go very far anyway.

  “What was that about?” Niivi asked, hooking her arm around his as they walked.

  “Elias is being an ass. Didn’t feel like putting up with it,” Tsaeris said.

  “He’s your mentor, Tsaeris. And beyond that, he’s Elias. You could get in serious trouble talking to him that way.”

  “I don’t even care right now. Can we talk about something other than Elias?” Tsaeris asked.

  “Sure. What do you want to talk about?”

  “I don’t know,” Tsaeris said.

  They walked for an hour or so, exchanging small talk here and there, but mostly in silence. Niivi seemed to sense his mood, and was content to just walk quietly beside him.

  He wasn’t sure how if it had been a conscious decision, but somehow their walk had landed them near the brothel where Cyra worked. Deep down he knew that what he was doing was wrong, but for the most part he didn’t care.

  “Let’s stop in here for a drink.” Tsaeris said.

  “Sure, if you want to.” Niivi replied.

  The two entered the brothel and Tsaeris ordered them a drink. They sat at a table, and talked for a while. Tsaeris kept scanning the room for Cyra. She must be in her room. He wanted her to appear. He wanted to show her what it was like seeing someone you cared about with another person.

  It wasn’t long, however, before he began to wonder what he was doing. This was stupid. This little stunt could open an insurmountable rift between him and Cyra. He wasn’t sure what he wanted with his relationship with the girl, but he knew he didn’t want to destroy all possibilities. He began to become anxious. He had to get out of there.

  Tsaeris finished his drink, and waited for Niivi to finish hers. It seemed to take her an agonizing amount of time before she drained her tankard. Tsaeris and Niivi walked to the bar and Tsaeris paid. As he was about to turn to leave, he heard her voice.

  “Tsaeris?” Cyra asked.

  Tsaeris turned around and saw Cyra standing there in her sleeping gown. Their eyes met, and then she looked at Niivi. Tsaeris felt his heart sink. “Who’s your friend, Tsaeris?” Niivi asked. He silently willed her to shut up. Niivi walked towards Cyra, extending a hand.

  “Hi. I’m Niivi.”

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Putting Out Fires

  Tsaeris was expecting Cyra to yell, or cry. Maybe he expected her to hit him, or even Niivi. What he didn’t expect was for her to just turn around and walk away wordlessly. He wished she had yelled. This seemed worse somehow.

  “Well, that was fun,” Niivi said, giving Tsaeris a wide grin.

  Tsaeris stared for a long time at spot where Cyra had stood. What the hell did he just do? Did he just ruin things with Cyra? How did he let his temper get the best of him like that?

  “Looks like we made the little whore sad,” Niivi said in a mocking voice with a fake pout. “Let’s go, Tsaeris.”

  “You bitch,” Tsaeris accused, his eyes ablaze with renewed fire. It was clear that Niivi had deduced their purpose in coming here, and had reveled in it.

  “What did you just call me?” Niivi asked him with an obvious edge to her voice.

  “I called you a bitch,” Tsaeris replied through gritted teeth.

  “You’re the one who brought me here to make your little whore jealous. And now you’re angry at me? Grow up.”

  “I made a mistake. I tried to leave, and you just went ahead and introduced yours
elf. Are you going to tell me you had no idea what was going on?”

  “Of course I knew. That’s what made it so fun. Especially since you clearly didn’t want to go through with it,” Niivi smiled at him.

  “Why? If you knew I had a change of heart?” Tsaeris was shaking his head in stunned anger.

  “Why not? You brought me here to play your little boy game of ‘make the whore jealous’. I figured what the hell? Might as well run with it.” Niivi was still smiling.

  “You ruined everything...” Tsaeris accused, his hands balled into angry fists at his sides.

  “No, love. You ruined it. Who cares? We can still have fun, and we both know I’m a lot less dirty than the whore. This way we can have fun, and you don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

  Tsaeris wanted to strike her. He knew he had himself to blame, but the fact that Niivi was enjoying Cyra’s misery so much filled him with contempt. He had to make this right, but how?

  “Get out of here,” Tsaeris said.

  “Stop being such a child. Let’s go back to the tavern, and I’ll make you forget about her.” She ran a finger seductively down his chest.

  “No. Never again.”

  “I don’t see what the issue is. She has sex with people all the time. Why is it such a big deal if you do too?” Niivi asked.

  Tsaeris remembered making that same argument to Cyra himself. He didn’t know why, but for some reason it did seem different. What he was doing seemed wrong. But why should it? Just because it’s her job, does that make it right?

  Without another word to Niivi, Tsaeris headed towards the stairs. Niivi called for him to come back, and when he ignored her she laughed mockingly. He assumed she left after that.

  He made his way down the hallway, ignoring the moans and lustful screams coming from some of the occupied rooms. When he finally stopped in front of Cyra’s room he hesitated. What could he say to her? He decided not to over think it, and knocked on her door.

  “What?” a voice from inside the room asked sharply.

  “It’s Tsaeris.”

  “Go away,” Cyra yelled.

  “We need to talk, Cy. We’ve needed to talk for a long time.”