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  “Wait, where are you going?” Setgaith says, before composing a Soten. Setgaith places his hands on the ground and a large wall of vines jut from the ground blocking the Ent’s path.

  The Ent reaches out his viney fingers and grips one of the roots from the wall in front of him and he squeezes it, cracking the root. As he does the roots start to separate; Setgaith pushes his hands further to the watery ground. Sweat building on his forehead as he forces his chakra through the roots trying to fight the Ent’s influence on his vintes. The Ent squeezes and tears the root apart; as he does all the roots Setgaith summoned explode from his chakra. Shrapnel wood flying in all directions pelting everything in their path. A shards of wood flies past Setgaith cutting him. Setgaith falls to his elbows into the puddle dazed and shocked at the raw power. It would be unheard of for another to overpower Soten created vines with pure chakra.

  The Ent calmly continues forward past the demolished wall. Setgaith attempts to stand but stumbles a bit. Before, catching himself on a nearby branch. He takes a moment to collect himself before following the Ent. “How.” Setgaith says as he leaps up and kicks off a giant tree to land in front of the Ent. Setgaith raises his hands in an attempt to stop him and re-engage him in conversation. “How did you do that?” Setgaith doesn’t understand how the Ent used his chakra without performing a Soten.

  The Ent tilts his head sideways. “Same as you.” The Ent explains.

  “No I used Soten. You didn’t. Was that magic?” Setgaith has never been schooled in magic only brief lessons, as the clans don’t traditionally use any magic. It is thought of as inferior form; it controls natural energy with one’s conscious energy, and makes no use of chakra.

  “What magic?” The Ent conveys his confusion.

  “How did you use your chakra?” Setgaith getting frustrated with the conversation.

  “Same as you.” The Ent finishes before staring off into the distance again. Setgaith calms himself knowing he must change his tactics if he is to gain anything from these conversations. He uses the same Soten. A powerful chakra infused vine stabs from the ground and grows between the two of them. “You can do this?” Setgaith poses.

  The Ent without hesitating lifts its hand. His fingers sharpen at their tip, and the Ent moves its hand back and forth the vine mimicking the side to side movements. Setgaith is blown away. How is this possible? This creature is using chakra to move the vine Setgaith created. Setgaith can feel its chakra. Yet the Ent is using no Soten. “Can you teach me this?” Setgaith trying to make his communication as simple as possible.

  16.8

  “You know already.” The Ent cryptically replies. Setgaith struggles to understand.

  Setgaith has always thought of Soten as the means to progress, but perhaps it is simply a framework to understand. To his knowledge Soten has always been progressed and analyzed, but perhaps it points to something deeper. A pattern that exists between conscious flow and the reaction of chakra.

  Chapter 7

  In Phalyados Aeshma is regaling a group of men recounting the gladiator match from earlier. They are at a tavern in the city of Egux. A large mining city built on the industry that supports it. Most of the precious crystals they use throughout Amneka come from this area. Laughter and chatter fills the room of mostly syndicates from Lucio’s territory.

  Aeshma is careful to police his internal connection to everything. He wants to engage enough to trick them, but not enough to actually enjoy it. His mind conflicted with the onus of remaining detached and not enjoying his circumstance. All the while not allowing his surroundings to perceive this disconnection.

  “Aeshma did you expect Olth to take that last match?” Teofil-the leader of a local syndicate-asks. This area is home to many syndicates that Lucio oversees. Teofil has ruthlessly claimed the kingdom of Egux as his syndicate’s territory. He is a large man; a little taller than average with extra weight around him making him seem even bigger. Not much muscle is visible, but he holds himself with confidence; one would assume he can put that size to use.

  “Well I can’t say I was too familiar with either fighters, but that turn around towards the end was surprising.” Aeshma equivocates as much as possible to distract from his lack expertise in the fights. He purposely took note of key events in hopes recounting them would suffice as his mind was largely distracted throughout the games. Not that it wouldn’t interest him, but when he begins enjoying himself he feels the sting of responsibility pierce him. Enjoyment only feels right when he is around his clansmen. He is supposed to be working to help ascend them not exhaust this time with frivolity.

  Teofil lets out a half genuine throaty laugh. “Well that is what I keep telling people with gladiator games you can never be too sure of anything. It is like life in that way.” Teofil remarks. A few of his lackies nod in agreement as he takes a drink from his mug.

  Aeshma contemplates his words and wants to share a genuine thought, but is careful to only expose the thoughts he specifically intends to. So, he waters down his response; “Got to stay on your toes.” Aeshma remarks as he takes a drink quickly as if to drown the words of his true reply.

  Celso a rough looking man, but very well kept. His hair fades on the sides, and there is a scar running down his right check accent his strong jaw. Dressed in an expensive suit with an eccentrically decorated hand cannon at his waist. He walks over with a big smile slapping Teofil’s back. “I’m going to hire that fucker.” Celso says before taking the unlit cigar out of his mouth. “I hear he can take a hand cannon blast and walk away from it.” Celso finishes addressing Aeshma and Teofil.

  “Stupid fucking rumors is all.” Teofil comments.

  “I don’t know. I’ll hire him and find out.” Celso puts his cigar in his mouth and gestures firing his hand cannon while chuckling. Teofil doesn’t particularly like Celso, but he puts up with him to prevent a war with the main Poetovio syndicate. “I hear Aeshma could be in the games.” Celso referencing not only the reputation of enforcers, but his famed ability to use Soten. Aeshma knows syndicate leaders shouldn’t be this comfortable with an enforcer; especially one of the Kentro’s. “I think you’ve had enough for tonight.” Aeshma remarks staring at Celso.

  Celso understands and nods his head holding back his anger. Celso then turns and leaves after tossing his freshly lit cigar into a glass on the bar. The fizz of the ember being extinguished accentuates his exit.

  There is a moment of silence as Celso and a group of his men leave. “That actually brings me to something I wanted to discuss with you.” Teofil shares as he looks around the room. He lifts his hand, decorated with expensive rings and tattoos, and flicks two fingers back sending a message to his men to clear the room for an important conversation. The men scatter and begin shuffling patrons out of the tavern.

  Lucio’s henchman walks over to a group sitting at a table. He taps one of their shoulders before pointing towards the exit. The man seems angered by this standing and turning quickly until he sees the cloak the man wears, and quickly notices the tattoo on the henchman’s neck. A circle with the background of a dried up lake bed; over the background inside the circle there are two images, a skull and dying rose. Most people know what that tattoo means. The group bow their head slightly and agree as they hastily grab their effects before leaving. Soon the tavern is only occupied by Aeshma, Teofil, and Teofil’s henchmen.

  Teofil uses his tongue to clean his teeth and gestures to the bartender to fill his mug before he too leaves to the back. Once the bartender makes his way out Teofil leans in; “I can’t say for sure how your meeting tomorrow will go, but let me tell you.” Teofil pauses as he bites his bottom lip and glances a way for a moment before continuing; “Not everyone is over joyed by Lucio’s leadership. I mean we aren’t exactly kept up-to-date on the latest of the circle’s leadership, but us syndicate leadership aren’t stupid.” He says with a smirk that reveals the syndicate leader’s cynical view of the circle’s leadership. “So what I guess I’m saying is if drastic m
easures have to be taken to know that you won’t be up against everyone in the territory.”

  Aeshma is surprised at this; as the impression of Lucio as a radian is he commands complete authority. Aeshma wants to respond quickly to prevent Teofil from picking up on his surprise. He would rather Teofil think this is a normal or expected outcome. “The circle appreciates your loyalty.” Aeshma seeks to reaffirm Teofil’s decision by showing that Lucio doesn’t speak for the circle. “I am actually here ahead of the Kentro just to pass an important command. We must reduce all activity in the kingdom of Egux to a whisper.” Aeshma hopes that even if his meeting with Lucio doesn’t go as expected he can secure Daeva’s command with at least some of the syndicates.

  Teofil crosses his hands and casually nods his head in silent agreement. They both sit in silence as they try to gather as much information before proceeding. Teofil lifts his head and itches his neck before asking; “Say what do you expect the outcome of your meeting to be?”

  Aeshma doesn’t want to give away any hesitation or concern. As he is acting as an emissary of the Kentro. “I don’t suspect there will be any issues.” Aeshma displaying confidence.

  Teofil pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he nods; “Good. Good.” He says before facing forward grabbing his drink.

  Aeshma tries to recap their conversation in his head to ensure he didn’t convey more or less than he wanted. Aeshma also wants to change the subject to move things along. “You know of a good place to stay?” Aeshma inquires.

  Teofil looks up for a bit running the options through his mind. “Well you could go to the good side of town where the politicians stay, or if you want, there are some nice accommodations at some of my safe houses if you are interested.”

  Aeshma doesn’t want to stay with a syndicate. Not only will he be communicating with his clan mates tonight he also knows if he stayed with them he would have to keep his guard up and project this persona the whole time; something he does not look forward to. “With all this turmoil I don’t want to put a spotlight on your syndicate by staying with you. Plus, if I end up overhearing things I’ll want to get involved, it is my compulsion.” Aeshma says with a smirk, hoping to lighten the mood to smooth over his refusal.

  “Understood, and hey if there is ever anything you are interested in I always enjoy working with enforcers.” Teofil comments.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Aeshma answers with a head nod. “You have peaked my interest, what portion of the syndicates would you say are loyal to the circle over Lucio?” Aeshma’s curiosity overtakes his composure, as he hadn’t taken much time to think about the effect of such a question.

  Teofil leans back in his chair again and cups his fist in his hand as he thinks. “That is a difficult question.” Teofil declares as he points one finger and rocks his hand. “I mean I would say they are all loyal to the circle, but some just see Lucio as the circle. While others recognize the ones calling the shots above him.” Teofil responds without specifically answering Aeshma’s question.

  Teofil’s answer makes Aeshma realize this is of little consequence for both his roles: an enforcer and his true motives as a member of the Shanshe clan. “That’s not much of an answer.” Aeshma wants to recognize the non-answer with Teofil to show he won’t let him get away with such things. “But, it doesn’t really matter anyway.” Aeshma finishes as he takes a drink.

  Teofil chuckles; “You’re a real ball buster you know that.” Teofil recognizing his lack of formality with this enforcer wants to return the subject to business; in hopes of distracting from the lapse in judgement. “Say how long are we keeping things at a whisper.” Teofil squints his eyes and consults with Aeshma.

  “I wouldn’t worry about it. Lucio will worry about the timeline. Unless drastic measures, as you say, should have to be taken.” Aeshma responds.

  “Very well” Teofil says, respecting Aeshma’s answer.

  Aeshma finishes his mug. “Well I suppose I should get going after meeting with Lucio I have a long journey tomorrow. I appreciate all your hospitality.” Aeshma conveys his satisfaction of Teofil’s words and efforts. “Your loyalty will not be forgotten. You know better than anyone that only death lies outside the circle.” Aeshma concludes before shaking wrist to wrist with Teofil, then turns to leave patting one of the henchmen on the shoulder.

  Teofil is confident that overall it was a productive day. Even having his name recognizable with an enforcer to the Kentro is worth the effort. Even more so if Aeshma shares his personal loyalty to the Kentro.

  Within the southern region of Wrathbrook lies the kingdom of Valgue. At the capital city Ruvaen’s security detail litters the streets in front of a flamboyant building. Standing out from the others with gold and emerald trappings crested into its design. Simple rigid structure with a large dome top, and two towers on either side that climb above the dome that sits between them.

  All of Ruvaen’s security detail wear the same plated armor made of adamant. Adamant is an expensive metal; that cannot be forged with regular fire. Most use magic, some use other means, but a blacksmith that can forge adamant is rare.

  Security for Regents and above are discernable by this more expensive armor. The metal has a smooth marble like surface, but it is a dirty silver color. Ruvaen’s security is outfitted with a rounded helmet with a modest fin that flattens just around the nose area. Shoulders smooth rounded plate protection with an extra flap to line the outside of the bicep. A chest plate that has flexible pieces of dire hide that sit just below the waist. The only identifying mark on them is their rank a small leather patch that hangs from their waist with a rank insignia on it. The only weapons they carry a short sword holstered at their waist, and a hand cannon around their gauntlet. Which can be easily extended out and fired.

  Daeva approaches casually. He is wearing a suit that blends in with those that would come to this type of hotel. As he approaches the tall doors the security detail stops him short of the entrance. They walk up and a member of the Mystico Black Ops approaches. Members of the Mystico Black Ops have a foreboding presence. Probably due to their legendary training, clandestine operations, and cut throat methods. Mystico Opsmen spend their whole life training to be a member of the prestigious group. Very few men have the ability to join their ranks. Each Regent has a unit of Mystico Opsmen to command.

  As he approaches Daeva wearing sleek and flexible Biston armor. Even more durable and rare than adamant. The Mystico Opsman stops a few feet from Daeva, and recites a spell his voice deepens to an inhuman level: so deep you can feel the bass in your chest. This is common when casting a spell. The opsman moves his hand through the air in front of Daeva.

  His spell grabs the air around Daeva and constricts it to his form. A formality to ensure no hidden weapons. Daeva doesn’t appreciate the feeling, but he abides it. Eventually the opsman drops his hand and looks at Daeva tilting his head slightly before turning and walking away. This indicates to the security he may pass, so they step aside clearing Daeva’s path.

  Daeva walks inside to a brightly illuminated room the smooth glass-like floors that reflect the light making it even more brilliant. An inn worker approaches Daeva and bows before offering assistance. “May I check you in?” The worker asks.

  “No I’m here to meet with Ruvaen.” Daeva getting straight to the point disinterested in wasting his time here or with these people. The worker bows and points towards the elegant drinking area. “This way please sir.” The worker politely instructs.

  Without even paying any attention to the worker Daeva walks past him and straight towards the drinking area. As he goes up the stairs he sees luxurious seats and a long table for the barkeep. The area is empty with only one man-Ruvaen-sitting at the bar. As he walks over an Opsman notices and glances to Ruvaen for instructions. With a glance at Daeva, Ruvaen nods to the Opsman. As Daeva approaches the Opsman passes him slightly bumping shoulders as if to assert dominance, or at least that is how Daeva took it.

  Without hes
itation Daeva grabs his shoulder. The Opsman starts turning around, but Daeva is too fast and kicks the back of his knee the Opsman falls to the ground.

  “Enough!” Ruvaen stands up. Several Opsman run into the tavern area. “Come sit please.” Ruvaen tells Daeva hoping to settle the commotion.

  With a laugh Daeva shoves the Opsmans shoulder releasing his grip before turning and walking towards Ruvaen. The opsman catches himself and snarls back at Daeva.

  Daeva sits down next to Ruvaen snapping his fingers towards the barkeep. “I would think such an illustrious figure would have better control of his underlings.” Daeva remarks.

  “I would think someone of your instincts would know that requesting a meeting as this should be reserved for the most dire of circumstances.” Ruvaen conveying his displeasure for such personal meetings.

  “As things change, I need to know so I can properly prepare for it. The whole point of this agreement is to ease the friction between each other … “ Daeva searches for the proper terminology; “work.” Daeva expresses as the barkeep hands him a goblet with expertly carved markings from its stem to the bowl denoting the wealth one must have to even drink from such a masterpiece.

  “What is it I can enlighten you with?” Ruvaen doesn’t want a drawn out meeting with Daeva. He certainly doesn’t want to be getting demands from the circle. Ruvaen feels they are beneath him, and simply a means to an end. Daeva’s attitude only challenges this notion and it doesn’t sit well with Ruvaen.