Balance of Death Read online

  As they sprint through the plains-without concern for what they might collide with- no terrain feature could halt them. Galloping through smaller trees unphased-flexing and cracking the trees with their weight and momentum. Their thick bone plate, head forward and horns snagging and tearing anything within grasp. The riders and their gear positioned tightly to the Boem’s body to avoid any obstacles the Boem may crash through. The thick neck of the Boem provides good cover.

  Setgaith keeps up racing next to the group on their boem’s; his grace in stark difference to the brute force used by the Boem. As Setgaith speeds on, his mind is weighed down with doubts and concerns for his clansmen. The possibility, no matter how small, of losing them is debilitating. This compounded by the fear that he is failing them. His logic tells him to continue forward, but fear poisons his mind clouding what lays before him. All drive and conviction is stripped and he is just along for the ride already set in motion, only five days time before he reaches Hreif forest. Every moment challenging his decisions.

  Over 25,000 miles southwest of Qilong city. Thromb has transported to the capital of the Talonmoor region Talonmoor city. A dreary city with large cathedral buildings: sharp and jagged roofs. There is a sense of depression and hardship in spite of the impressive dark buildings covering the landscape.

  Thromb rides in a small boat on a river cutting through the city. A nameless worker stands at the bow rowing Thromb to his destination for a meager amount of Amnekian credits. Thromb is on his way to meet with his spy in an agreed upon spot: a rundown pub in a dangerous part of the city. They arrive at a small docking area just next to a bridge. Animal carcasses and various trash litter the waters here. Thromb flicks one more coin in a bucket on the boat before exiting.

  Making his way through the paved road he is occasionally propositioned by women hoping to capitalize on the sexual desires of any passerby they encounter. Further along the road seems even less populated with no one in sight. The seclusion is eventually broken up by a group of men huddled in an alleyway; before long the group takes note of Thromb. One of the men pushes another aside and moves towards Thromb; as he does the group follows behind. The one leading wields a hand cannon; many criminals use hand cannons because they offer advantage over normal folk. There are many different grades of hand cannons. Some pull less chakra, and consequently have less accuracy, those lacking skill use these. Without proper training normal men would pass out from the chakra being pulled from higher quality cannons. In this way hand cannons can tell you a lot about an adversary and their worth. Thromb notes their advance, but is untroubled by it. Certain they don’t pose any physical threat the only concern would be the disruption the altercation might cause.

  Thromb determines that whatever disruption killing these men would cause will go unnoticed in this environment. The man leading the group yells as he closes in on Thromb. “Hey stranger. You aren’t from around here are you.” No doubt the meticulous way Thromb wears his robes cause him to stand out in this environment.

  Thromb continues indifferent to their advance. This seems to frustrate them and they begin running towards Thromb. As the men surround Thromb he composes a Soten that dramatically increases his weight. Two of them grab Thromb in a hopeless attempt to secure his arms behind him. They might as well be trying to bend an oak tree to their will.

  Thromb grabs one of their arms and pulls him in, while quickly extending his own arm out crushing the man’s face around his fist. The man drops to the ground. This inspires the other man to strike at Thromb’s head. Thromb simply tilts his head allowing the man to make contact with his skull; strengthened by his previous Soten. The man’s fist cracks on Thromb’s bald head and he screams out in pain.

  The man with the blaster takes aim as the others back up. Thromb reaches forward and diverts the mans aim before the crystal can finish extracting the user’s chakra. A blast of chakra shoots out, exploding the side of a seemingly abandoned building. The wall crumbles and a window sized hole exposes the inside. Thromb strikes the man in his chest. With his speed and increased weight the momentum transferred into the man’s chest could’ve came from a boem. The man’s torso shatters from the strike and is hurled backward until his body crumbles against a solid concrete building. His blood paints the area around the impact. The rest of the men realizing their error scatter. Thromb looks around. The city seems to return to its eerie state. The action that unfolded and the corpse now laying in the road almost complement the atmosphere.

  Down the road a bit a tavern with two large men standing outside both with hand cannons: of higher quality then the one from earlier. “Aeshma” Thromb says in a direct but calm tone as he walks up. Almost as if the name is a salutation. The men swallow heavy and seem almost anxious hearing the name, but they nod indicating to Thromb to enter. The tavern is dimly lit with smoke floating through the air. The main room is separated by a bar, and various semi-private seating areas. Most of the private seating areas are occupied by a few men with women waiting on them. Their presence infuses sexuality with the harsher tones of addiction and hedonism.

  Thromb makes his way to the back and up the stairs leading to a more prominent seating area. Where only one man sits with a woman on each side of him. As Thromb crests the top of the stairs the man removes his cigar from his mouth and exhales before; “Good to see you.” Aeshma says before dismissing the women. The women casually obey his command.

  Thromb dislikes this atmosphere, but his concern is overshadowed by his eagerness to see his travels and time spent bear fruit. Thromb walks over and sits down at the table. “Are you certain this was the best place to meet?” Thromb inquires. His concerns illuminate a dim insecurity that has been a disquiet voice in Aeshma.

  Aeshma pushes the concerns back down; “Yes, it is also a good place to take a break if you have time.” Aeshma says in an attempt to legitimize his enjoyment by getting Thromb’s passive approval through participation. Thromb squints his eyes in disapproval.

  “Who do you think you are speaking with?” Thromb responds tilting his head intensifying their eye contact. Aeshma feels ashamed his desire for approval backfired on him and only further exposed his insecurities. He doesn’t want to hide anything from a clanmate especially a Sage.

  “I apologize. It is easy to lose oneself while being duplicitous. When you allow yourself to break your discipline and give into whims it is difficult to build back up.” Aeshma say’s hanging his head in contrition. “Sometimes it drives me crazy that we have all this power and training, but don’t get to share in such luxuries. Or even command this level of respect.” Aeshma vents.

  Thromb conflicted by his concerns for Aeshma and the need to get the intelligence back to the clans as quickly as possible. “I would just ask you brother. What gives you more pleasure: living a life of honor alongside your clan, or giving into whims for temporary enjoyment?” Thromb asks.

  Aeshma is unable to see the difference between the enjoyment from whims, or from honor. “I will not fail my brothers.” Aeshma concludes. Whether or not this is the case Aeshma seems convinced of it.

  “Just keep in mind that a life of honor will continuously raise your happiness overall and only allow higher and higher echelons of peace and happiness, whereas the happiness from whims will have peaks and valleys and the more you indulge the lower and lower both the peaks and the valleys will be.” Thromb shares desperate to enlighten his brother and ensure he doesn’t get lost. Wanting to get back on task, Thromb shifts subjects. “Now, I need to know what have you learned of Amneka’s plans, and coordination with the circle?” Thromb asks.

  “Well firstly, Daeva has taken over as Kentro. He is traveling across Prósdesi to secure his power with the Radians.” Aeshma pauses for a moment expecting questions from Thromb before continuing. “From what I have gathered the circle is working directly with a high ranking official of Amneka. We are allowed to operate under certain conditions. Of course, publicly we will still have conflicts with the Amnekian guard. Howeve
r, the higher levels like black ops and regent level erevno corpsman don’t concern themselves with the circle.” Aeshma shares.

  Thromb is concerned about the implications. This will focus the black ops and erevno corps on other issues like the clans. “Have you heard anything further about Amneka’s plans to culminate the central lands?” Thromb questions.

  Aeshma sits up accentuating his response; “Yes, they are working on the planning now and the military is involved, but to what extent I am not sure.” Aeshma hopes the information he collects will prove useful for his clansmen.

  “Do you have a specific date or time frame?” Thromb pushes.

  “No, I don’t think even Daeva has been given such information. They are keeping it as quiet as possible. We do have the names of a few magistrates that are being promoted to lords and involved in the planning.” Aeshma shares.

  Thromb jumps on this and is fervent to capitalize on the information. However, being disciplined and cautious he holds back his eagerness. How accurate could this information be? Why would Amneka be enlisting magistrates to culminate? Are they planning on forming a region that quickly? “How confident are you in this information?” Thromb attempts to validate before getting ahead of himself.

  “Daeva just got word. He is having me and some other enforcers personally speak with radians that have kingdoms getting new lords in their territories. They are to keep their activities fairly silent for the time being.” Aeshma responds.

  “How many officials are being pulled?” Thromb probes.

  “I have a list, but I don’t know if this is all of them. I have been tasked with other things. Being that I am his most powerful enforcer he is sending me to meet with Lucio. The only kingdom giving up an official from Lucio’s territory is the Magistrate of the city of Egux.” Aeshma worried Thromb wouldn't let him meet with Lucio. Knowing the danger of speaking to Lucio prior to Daeva’s meeting with him as Kentro and securing his patronage.

  “We’ll coordinate a squad to accompany you. Is there anything else I should know?” Thromb ready to begin taking action.

  “Understood, the only other noteworthy thing is a new presence amongst the circle. Asta is an old and powerful vampire. It is rumored she has something to do with Treggin stepping down, but not much is known. Daeva keeps her name off the lips of even his enforcers, which is an anomaly.” Aeshma worried that this might be the precursor to something grave.

  “Very well, give me the names you have now. I imagine you’ll be heading to the Phalyados region soon.” Thromb questions.

  “Yes, I have time set with Lucio in two days.” Aeshma responds while sliding a list of names face down on the table towards Thromb.

  “Work out the details with squad seven. They will meet you at the Talonmoor transport in the morning.” Thromb grabs the list pocketing it while he turns around assessing the room before returning his attention back to Aeshma. “Henceforth we will meet every 20 days. It is important you don’t get lost brother.” Thromb says ensuring he doesn’t shirk his responsibility to one of his men.

  “As you wish, and I will heed your words Sage.” Aeshma finishes.

  Chapter 6

  The following day, at the capital Kingdom, in the Lucabia region. Daeva is smoking a cigar of freshly rolled herbs. Sitting in his radian’s office. His smoke filling the room, as if asserting his presence in his underling’s territory. A gothic room, dimly lit, enough space to fit a normal desk and a seating area just before the desk. A couch with two finely crafted comfortable red velvet chairs. A pair of candle’s held by demon statutes on either end of the fireplace. The flickering light from the fire is the only light. A few papers on the floor and covering the desk.

  Daeva is satisfied as he has met with the most powerful radian territories, aside from Lucio. There are still seven other radian’s left to meet with, but hold less weight. These few days have gone a long way in fading his doubts about his ability to secure the circle. His mind wanders to thoughts of Asta. What are her motives? With her death dealers woven in at every critical point within the circle of śmierć extricating her from it would prove difficult. Her immense personal prowess multiplying the difficulty exponentially.

  All of that does not seem to weigh on his mind. Something intrigues him about Asta; nothing he can articulate more of an instinct. It is foreign to him, and he is evenly split between fighting it and succumbing to this rare and new experience. He sits puffing his cigar to a stub pondering various possibilities and outcomes.

  His door’s lock is abruptly busted open, and the door slams to the wall. Daeva sits up with anger ready to bring his ire down upon the intruder. Asta confidently breeches the room. Seeing her Daeva’s concern fades, and instead turns to curiosity. “You know the commonly accepted procedure is to knock.” Daeva plays.

  Asta leans on his desk with authority; “I don’t knock for my subordinates.” Asta retorts. “I’m going to need you to press Ruvaen about a timeline for the culmination.” Asta says flatley her delivery confusing the severity and risks of such a request.

  Daeva is taken back by it. Her interest strikes his curiosity, also adds to the mountain of problems he is currently facing. “Why would you be interested in such dangerous information?” Daeva questions hoping to gain some clarity.

  “I should make it clear. Our conversations are not going to be exploratory. I will tell you what it is I desire, and you will tell me how long it will take you to accomplish it.” Asta shuts down his line of questioning.

  “Yes, it is quite clear, but you should be aware. The more things you force on the circle the less effect any one of those things will have.” Daeva cautions. Daeva reserving resources until he is sure he has the backing of Lucio.

  “What is your plan to execute my order?” Asta avoids his concerns.

  A moment of silence as Daeva sits with his elbows on the table. His right hand balled in a fist and left wrapped around it. His thumbs out supporting his chin. “I suppose we will start with a request and go from there.” Daeva answers.

  “No, I am not interested in negotiations. I want this information within the next eight days” Asta orders. As she gets closer to being able to work with the clans the less patient she gets.

  “I suppose we could leverage Ruvaen’s request.” Daeva notices the look of confusion on Asta’s face and realizes she isn’t aware of the most recent request from Amneka. “Amneka has requested we keep our operations to a dull whisper in the kingdoms losing their magistrate. You must know this will stress our relationship with Amneka.” Daeva attempts to persuade Asta without disagreeing.

  “Ruvaen will be so wrapped up with his planning, that he will do whatever it takes to avoid any encumbrance.” Asta argues.

  “Unless he sees us knowing about, or asking about, the culmination date as more of a threat than crime in some kingdom.” Daeva counters.

  “What would you suggest then.” Asta respecting Daeva’s concerns for the first time since they met.

  “Off the top of my head? It might be best for us to ask when and where a regiment sized unit of their military will be moving. It sounds like the type of information we are generally interested in, and whenever they move most likely they will be starting the culmination.” Daeva replies.

  Asta is pleased with his desire to assist. She is used to bending others to her will, which limits the possibility of working with someone. “We should be careful though. Ruvaen isn’t an idiot. If he thinks we are going to damage his culmination efforts he will descend upon us.” Daeva adds.

  ”Very well. I don’t care how you get it done, but have it done when next we speak. I trust you can handle that?” Asta thunders not wanting to expose her thoughts of gratitude.

  “Aw, does that mean I don’t get to see that gorgeous smile for another eight days?” Daeva jokes.

  Asta gives way to a slight but noticeable smirk before turning and exiting.

  in the far north of Pródesi. Setgaith is woken by the crackling embers of the now dead fire.
The sky is still dark, but the moist morning air tells him sunrise isn’t far off. The moon ready to retire is still bright enough to offer a view of the Hreif forest from atop the peak of the last rolling hills. Enormous trees huddled together soaring higher than the eye can see. Their roots too large to scale act as cliffs blocking passage. Branches coming off the trees that a person could build a house on; that seem to intersect and entwine throughout making a maze of branches and trees.

  Setgaith finds himself pondering how to move forward, the Boems will not be able to climb these roots effectively. Setgaith finds peace in the brisk morning air and the silence of everyone sleeping only interrupted by the snapping of embers and branches in the fire pit. It feels as though he has stolen time waking up before the sun accidentally. His grogginess persuades him to return to sleep, but his ambition fights the desire. He stands and appreciates the sight of the first trees of the Hreif forest.

  He walks over to the soft crest of the hill where the night guard stands ready to alert the small group if anything of concern approaches. Setgaith knows that the group is only concerned with collecting the Jaclyte crystals that can be found without venturing into the forest. He decides to have the group forage alone. Setgaith will clear a mile or so radius, then venture out for the day. Returning at night to ensure everything is alright, and to perform another radius clearing the following morning.