The Third Eye Initiative

by J. J. Newman

  Aedrus kept backing up, but was forced to stop when he felt the heat of the fire behind him. Aedrus knew he was running out of time.

  “What now?” The man asked, his tone still mocking.

  “You look thirsty.” Aedrus replied. The man didn’t speak, seemingly unsure of how to respond to the odd statement. Aedrus didn’t give him a chance to figure it out. Quick as a bolt of lightning, Aedrus reached behind himself, pulling kettle of boiling water from the hearth, and emptied its contents into the man’s face. And how the man screamed.

  Aedrus cursed and shook his hand, trying to alleviate the pain, as the hot kettle had burned him. He walked over to the man who was still writhing in pain on the floor. He kicked the man hard in the ribs.

  “Not so tough now,” Aedrus mocked. “You killed my friends. Trust me when I say that this is only the beginning...” Aedrus’ speech was interrupted by what felt like an unusually painful mosquito bite in the side of his neck. He reached up, and pulled a small feathered dart from his neck. His vision blurred.

  “You assholes,” Aedrus muttered as his legs gave way beneath him. He saw the silhouette of another man enter the room a moment before the darkness claimed him.

  Chapter Thirty Eight

  Wraith

  Tsaeris stared at the brass ring for what felt like a long time. Raina was an Elite. Tsaeris felt stung by the betrayal. Raina seemed confused, even hurt, by his sudden shift in demeanor.

  “Tsaeris, what’s wrong?” Raina asked for the second time.

  “Uh,” Tsaeris said, taking a moment to clear his throat, and to pull his eyes from the brass ring. “Uh, nothing. Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t feel well, suddenly.”

  “Did you drink too much?” Raina asked, concern on her face.

  “Maybe, just give me a moment to clear my head,” Tsaeris replied.

  Tsaeris stood up from the bed, and leaned his forehead against the door. This wasn’t fair. Raina was his friend, one of the only friends that he had. How could she be an Elite? What should he do? Maybe he should just leave and warn Elias. But what then? Raina was one of them, she would have information. What were the odds he would be able to get his hands on another Elite if Raina disappeared?

  He knew that he needed to take advantage of this, to get some answers. But this was Raina. They had been friends since he had been recruited. They had laughed, eaten and drank together. She was there with him when Cyra had died, had even stood ready to die beside him during the bombing of the Dwarven Arms Fair. He hated this.

  “Tsaeris, are you alright? Do you need me to get the Doctor?” Raina asked. The genuine concern in her voice bit deep into Tsaeris.

  Tsaeris didn’t reply. He leaned away from the door, and lifted his left hand up, and pulled the latch closed. The lock slid into place with an audible click. It had the sound of finality to Tsaeris. He could hear Raina shifting uncomfortable on the bed behind him, not entirely sure as to what was going on. He knelt down for a moment, and silently removed a dagger from his discarded boot. He kept the hilt hidden in his palm, and the blade pressed against the inside of his wrist.

  “Oh, yeah. Locking the door is probably a good idea. Don’t want anyone walking in on us,” Raina said, followed by forced chuckle.

  “No,” Tsaeris said. “We don’t.” Finally, he turned to face her. “How could you be one of them, Raina? How could you do it?”

  “What?” Raina asked, confused. “One of who? Do what?”

  “Those novices. Kids, all of them,” Tsaeris said, his voice cold and his expression dark.

  “What are you talking about?” Raina asked.

  “You’re an Elite, Raina.”

  “An Elite? What the hell does that mean?” Raina asked. Her tone shifted, and her muscles tensed. She was on her guard, and it was clear she knew exactly what he meant.

  “Don’t, Raina. I know what the brass ring means,” Tsaeris said.

  “You’re out of your mind, Tsaeris. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Maybe you need to sleep off the drink.”

  Tsaeris nodded softly, and then lunged at her. He struck her hard with his fist on her left cheek. She fell back onto the bed with a cry of pain. Tsaeris jumped on top of her, pinning her with his legs. Raina threw her head into his face, her forehead connecting with his nose. Blood poured from his nostrils. He leaned his head back out of reach, to avoid another blow, and put the dagger to her throat.

  “I’m tired of this shit. I want answers. Where are the Elites?” Tsaeris asked, his teeth barred in anger.

  “Tsaeris, please. Let me go. Why are you doing this?” Raina pleaded.

  “I will repeat myself one more time, then things are going to get much, much worse for you. I know about the Elites. I know about the brass ring. Don’t you dare deny it again.”

  “Tsaeris,” Raina began. She paused for a long moment. “Look, the Elites are a unit in the Initiative. We’re on the same side.”

  “Same side? You’ve been killing novices,” Tsaeris yelled.

  “Everybody we have killed have been enemies of the Initiative. Traitors who were about to reveal the Initiative to others.”

  “Bullshit!” Tsaeris growled. “Bullshit. What about the Tankard? The Elites burned that down, tried to kill everyone inside. Novices, agents. Richard loved that place. He was your friend, Raina. Not a traitor.”

  “Are you an idiot, Tsaeris? The Elites didn’t burn down the Tankard. Do you forget that I was in there as well? I was going to die until you got us out.” Raina said.

  “Maybe that was a price you were willing to pay,” Tsaeris argued.

  “We have never killed anyone who was not an enemy of the Initiative. We would not burn down the tavern.”

  “Really? Are me, Elias and Tyrier traitors?” Tsaeris asked.

  “What? Of course not.”

  “Really? Because the Elites have been trying to kill us.”

  “That’s a lie,” Raina accused.

  “Like hell it is. The Elites have turned against the Initiative, have turned against Gravelock,” Tsaeris said.

  “We serve Gravelock, you fool!” Raina yelled.

  Tsaeris was about to say more, then he paused. Raina seemed sure of what she was saying. Either she really believed this, or she was one hell of a liar.

  “Raina. Who is your leader?” Tsaeris asked. “Not Gravelock, but the leader of the Elites.”

  “I don’t know. I never see him. My orders come down a chain,” Raina said. She stared hard at Tsaeris.

  He wanted so badly to believe her. Could it be possible that Raina was out of the loop? Being used against the Initiative without even realizing it? Could he risk it?

  “Where do the Elites meet?” Tsaeris asked.

  “We’ve had many meeting places. It changes constantly,” Raina replied. A small line of blood dripped from beneath the dagger held against her throat.

  “The most recent one, Raina,” Tsaeris asked pushing the knife even harder against her throat.

  “I can’t tell you that, Tsaeris. I won’t. I swore an oath.”

  “Raina. The Elites have gone rogue. They have been killing kids. They tried to kill your friends. They do not serve the Initiative. Either you’re a liar, or you’re being played.”

  “They wouldn’t turn, Tsaeris. They are the true hand of the Initiative.” Raina replied.

  “Not anymore. They even tried to kill you in the tavern when they burned it down. Remember the novices and agents who had fallen unconscious in the smoke? The Elites waylaid the wagon, murdered them when they still sleep, and killed the fire brigade members.”

  “That’s a lie.”

  “Elias, Tyrier and I found the bodies. Three men then tried to kill us. Elias found the rings, and he knew damn well what that meant. Do you trust Elias?” Tsaeris said.

  “This can’t be true. My brothers would never...”

  “Your brothers betrayed us, and you. Kids, Raina. They killed kids. They need to be stopped.” Tsaeris said.

  “
Tsaeris,” Raina said.

  “Forget Elias, Raina. We’ve been friends forever. Do you trust me?” Tsaeris asked, taking the knife away from her throat.

  Raina hesitated.

  “If you don’t help me now, then any blood that comes next is on your hands. We need to avenge those kids, and we need to stop any more of them from dying. If you’re truly an Elite, and you serve the Initiative, then you have to help me. I promise you. Helping me is serving the Initiative.”

  Raina stared at him for a long time. Finally she sighed, a frustrated tear running down her cheek. Taking a deep breathe, she told him the most recent meeting location of the Elites. Tsaeris frowned when she told him, feeling a sense of unease.

  “Thank you, Raina. You did the right thing.” Tsaeris told her, and then hit her hard in the side of her left temple with the hilt of his dagger, and she collapsed unconscious onto the bed. It was nice that she trusted him. He hoped that one day he could return the favor. But at the moment, he couldn’t risk her having a change of heart and warning the Elites.

  He spent a moment securing her to the bed with a rope he kept in the trunk, dressed quickly, and left the safe house.

  ***

  Lightning crashed and the rain poured onto the city, leaving tiny rivers rushing towards draining grates along the street. When Tsaeris had first entered the sewers, he knew it must be raining heavily outside, as the walkways were flooded.

  He held his long coat closed, and his hood down to try and shield him from the fury of the storm. It took him longer than usual to reach the house that he shared with Elias.

  He knew instantly that something was wrong. The front door was open, and there was no light coming from within. He stepped into the house, and removed a candle from the wall. He lit it quickly with flint and steel, and waited a moment for his eye to adjust to the light

  . The first thing he noticed was a body in the hallways. A big body. He cursed, and rushed over to it. It was Tyrier. He knelt down, and held the candle to the man’s face. He put his fingers to Tyrier’s neck, and his fingers brushed something piercing the skin. He pulled it out. It was a small feathered dart.

  Tsaeris put the candle down on the floor, and snapped the dart in half. He took a small needle from his coat and ran it along the inside of the dart. A small resin rubbed off onto the needle. He brought the needle to his mouth and licked the resin. He sighed with relief. It was a poison known as Fairy Dream. It was non-fatal, but could knock a man out for hours. Just to be sure, he held his fingers to the side of Tyrier’s neck. He could feel the heart beating. The big man was alive.

  He found Elias a moment later in the living room. A quick examination had confirmed that Elias had been drugged by the same poison. He was relieved that the two men lived, but was also very worried. He had expected to go after the Elites with Elias and Tyrier supporting him. There was nobody else who was privy to the existence of The Elites, so he was on his own. He knew what that meant.

  He searched the house, but found it empty. He was alone with the two unconscious men. He might have given up then, and waited for his friends to awaken before moving against the Elites. But he knew he couldn’t. The house was empty. Aedrus was gone.

  The Elites had never taken novices before, only killed them. But Aedrus’ body was nowhere to be found. There was a small chance that he was still alive, and Tsaeris couldn’t abandon him. Candle in hand, he pushed open the door leading to his room in the basement of the house.

  He spent a few moments lighting candles, making the room nice and bright. There was dangerous work that needed to be done before he left, and he couldn’t do it in the dark. He walked around the room, opening several sealed crates. Inside were piles of small explosive devices. He opened his coat, and began rearming himself. He moved to his chemical station, put a mask over his mouth, and opened the stoppers on several of the vials. Before long noxious fumes filled the room.

  A shadow fell over his workstation and Tsaeris spun around quickly, instinctively falling into a defensive crouch. Tsaeris felt his breath catch in his throat, and he froze in fear.

  Two powerful hands grabbed Tsaeris by the front of his shirt, and slammed him down onto his lab station, shattering the table beneath his weight. As he slammed against the floor, Tsaeris rolled out of the remains of broken glass and deadly chemicals right into the ankles of his attacker, tripping him to the floor. Tsaeris quickly regained his feet.

  His heart pounded as the figure rose, his black robed and hooded form stretching to its enormous height. The figure stood absolutely still, the blackness where the shadows hid his face seeming to stare right into Tsaeris’ soul.

  Tsaeris’ right hand moved of its own accord, touching his chest where the scarred carving of a Turindiel word lay etched in his flesh. The scar seemed to ache suddenly, as if in response to encountering its creator.

  “The Purity Union is gone,” Tsaeris said, his voice shaking. The man did not respond.

  Tsaeris had not seen his attacker since the fall of the Union. He had been so sure that this man had been a member, and his disappearance had seemed to confirm it. But here he was, and Tsaeris knew he was in serious trouble.

  Tsaeris reached a hand quickly into his coat to retrieve an explosive, but the man was quicker and sprung forward to catch his wrist. The man lifted Tsaeris’ straight up in the air with one arm, and his feet dangled off of the floor. The man reached into his robes and produced a dagger.

  Tsaeris still had one hand free, and the man’s other hand was now occupied. Tsaeris reached into his coat and removed a small vial of acid, and in one quick motion, Tsaeris crunched the glass vial into the man’s face.

  Tsaeris dropped to the floor as the man brought his hands to his face, wisps of acrid smoke leaking from beneath his fingers. Still, the man made no sound, no cries of pain. Tsaeris unsheathed a dagger and leapt at the man, hoping to score a mortal wound while the man was injured. Before Tsaeris could shove the dagger home in the man’s flesh, a heavy boot smashed into the side of his face as his attacker kicked out.

  Tsaeris lay dazed on the floor as his attacker, seemingly recovered from his wound, walked casually towards him having retrieved his fallen dagger. Tsaeris shook his head to clear in, then rolled into a quick backwards somersault and was on his feet again.

  The man lashed out with the dagger, and Tsaeris narrowly avoided a cut to his throat. Tsaeris slashed at the man with his own weapon, and received a cut to his own right shoulder for his troubles. It was a superficial wound, and Tsaeris ignored it. The man advanced and Tsaeris backed up. He knew the wall was close and he would run out of space soon enough. His mind worked desperately, trying to find a way to survive.

  As he backed away his leg bumped into a crate. He knew what was inside, and was suddenly reminded of the time he nearly blew himself and his friends up to escape the Elites. Cursing his own stupidity for what he intended, Tsaeris backed up some more, moving carefully around the crate to draw the man in closer.

  The man followed him, attacking only sporadically, obviously in no rush to finish the deed. As the man stepped next to the crate, Tsaeris reached into his coat, and dropped a live bomb into the crate of explosives.

  The man stared down at the crate, and Tsaeris used the opportunity to make a run for the door. The crate exploded behind him, and the blast knocked Tsaeris face first into the floor. He covered his head as a plume of flames washed over him. He silently prayed that the heat from the flames did not set off the many explosives tucked away in his coat.

  The wall of flame quickly receded, leaving Tsaeris’ hair and flesh a bit singed, but he was otherwise uninjured. The crate had not been full, and contained mostly fire bombs.

  The weakened ceiling creaked above him, but Tsaeris ignored it and rolled onto his back. He looked back towards his attacker and gasped. The man was rising to his feet, completely engulfed in flame. He cast off his flaming cloak and robes and Tsaeris got his first real look at his enemy, who now wore nothing more than a simple black
leather vest and trousers.

  Tsaeris forced himself painfully to his feet, staring hard at the man. His mouth hung open in shock. The man’s muscular frame was covered in blood, and his face and bald head were severely scarred. Some of the scars were fresh, but most were many years old. But it was not the man’s face that shocked Tsaeris. It was lobe-less and slightly pointed ears. The man was a Turindiel.

  “Why?” Tsaeris asked, not really expecting an answer. He couldn’t believe that this man was a Tundra elf.

  “Arinbinev” The man hissed. Tsaeris recognized the word, though he didn’t speak Turndiel. He didn’t have to, that word was a part of him forever, carved into his flesh. Abomination.

  Suddenly Tsaeris understood. His father was human, and his mother was elf. As far as he knew, he was the only mixed breed. Nerindar had told him that he had been cast out because his people considered him an abomination. This man was here to purify his mother’s mistake.

  The man limped towards Tsaeris, his body battered and bleeding. Tsaeris braced himself but the man didn’t attack, and walked past him. As he moved to the door, Tsaeris briefly entertained the idea of trying to kill him now that he was injured, but decided against it. Even in this state, Tsaeris was not convinced he could defeat the man, and knew that if he forced another confrontation it would only end when one of them was dead. Tsaeris didn’t like his chances enough to risk it.

  The man reached the door he paused, and turned to look at Tsaeris. “Raynor,” was all he said, and then he disappeared up the staircase.

  Tsaeris understood that the man had just offered his name, and it wasn’t as an offer of friendship. The name hung in the air like an ominous wraith, and for reasons Tsaeris couldn’t explain it made him feel queasy.

  A few small fires remained from the initial blast, but as the basement was mostly stone, the damage to the house was minimal. Tsaeris spent some time putting out the fires, and to treat his wounds. He sighed in weariness. His struggles for the night were just beginning, and he could afford no time to rest.