Story:Kings of Strife/Part 11

Part Eleven
“Maybe this means something. Am I being condemned to an early grave?” Silverius sat on the cot, his legs and arms folded, staring idly at the ceiling. “I guess this is finally my just desserts for being… well, me.”

“…Nah.” He looked down at his hands and shook his head. “Look at me, talking to myself like this. Then again, what else am I supposed to do?” He sighed. “Sad to say, but it looks like that girl is the one thing that could save me right now. What a disgrace I am. She barely acts like a person… I don’t think I’ve heard her say a whole two sentences bef-“

Knock.

The mercenary looked up to his windowsill in alarm and froze. “…No way.” At first, he shook his head, laughing at himself, and had ignored the noise, but when it continued to repeat, he realized it most likely wasn’t some bird tapping on the window idly. “You’ve got to be kidding me. No way. No damn way.” He didn't move from his position on the jail cot but rather watched the window with an expression of amusement. “There is absolutely no way that is who I think it is.”

Knock.

Night was falling on the day already, and with it brought the even cooler chill of the ocean. Imprisoned in Straits City, weaponless and friendless, Silverius knew that he was a sitting duck before the city's police department connected him to the theft of the Inusian crystal some weeks back now. Word got around fast, and his death sentence would come even faster. Would his companion be able to save him from that?

Knock.

The window let out a knock yet again. He sighed again, but this time with a smile. “I must be some kind of wizard.” Now the mercenary sat up this time and glanced at the outside of his cell. No guards around that he could see and none were coming down the silent hall from what he could hear. He slowly walked over to the high up and wide window. He couldn’t look through it, but he could just barely tap a finger on it in response to the noise. The knocking ceased. He heard a rattling in the window and saw a corner of it crack. He stepped back and waited for his companion to break it as he looked out of his cell again.

Finally the window was cut out of its socket in the wall and it fell to the ground. Considering the window had been made of pure crystarium-burned glass and was embedded into the stone wall, he would have considered its removal absolutely impossible, but apparently nothing was impossible for his companion. Silverius was standing by and caught the heavy pane of glass before it could hit the floor and put it in his cot, covering it up with the blanket and at least attempting to make it look like he was still residing in it. With a grin, he glanced up to the flashily dressed girl kneeling outside the window hole, holding her hand inside the cell to assist his escape. He could vaguely see that she somehow had his gunblade in her possession.

Silverius chuckled at Cidolas as he started to climb out. "You know something, girl? I think I’m starting to like you.”

****

Autumn in Zeta Academy was a cool and moderately pleasing season. The huge school community wasn’t too close to the Inusian desert, but not too far away from the sea, either, and boasted an unprecedented calm belt. In its near future, while the climate of the location would continue on relatively unchanged, its political climate was long overdue for a drastic change.

"Miss Nolstuvainia! Miss Nolstuvainia, please, wait!" On one such cool and windy afternoon, a weak alto-pitched voice called after the most popular girl on campus in Zeta. With a huff, the titular Nolstuvainia Sestrum paused in her tracks and looked back at the male voice calling for her attention. Her brown hair flipped behind her head as she turned. Nearby Academy students walked onward, some looking at her as they passed by; some gazed with admiration, envy, or alarmingly, some with hatred. At this point in her mindset, the glances were never of any consequence to Nolstuvainia, and she dismissed the spiteful glances without even a response. The origin of the voice caught up to her and bent over, his hands on his knees, as he continued to speak. "Miss... Miss Nolstuvainia, I... I heard you were free, and the b-ball is coming up, and, and,"

Nolstuvainia cut him off with an irritated shake of the head. "First of all, you are to call me Vainia. You're not good enough to use my full name. You understand me?" Nolstuvainia’s tone was harsh and demanding and cut into the boy’s consciousness as if she kicked him in his chest. It was enough to get the boy to stand up straight and look at her with fear. Vainia, as she asked others and even herself to be referred to, considered it a vast improvement in his temperament.

Now that the boy in front of her stood straight up, Vainia was able to discern the full extent of his appearance. In an instant, she looked him up and down, seeing everything she could about him on the outside. Like every other male attending Zeta Academy, the boy wore the standard coral gray uniform suit that was almost identical to a tuxedo. His collar was wrinkled and his pants a little too baggy, and his face was squirrely and unappealing to her. She sniffled at him.

“What even is your name, boy?”

He coughed and his posture degraded. Even though he had a bad habit of slouching, the boy was still taller than her. Most people were, considering Nolstuvainia stood at a diminutive five feet. Despite her small height, Vainia managed to exude a crushing aura of pure dominance with her raised chin and withering frown. “J-Jason Vahnis. I’m one above your class year, and I’ve seen you around campus, so,”

"You're an upperclassman. You don't have to call me Miss." She looked up to his eyes now as she interrupted him, and Jason blushed as he looked away. The two stood silently, neither saying anything or moving. Vainia could feel her patience quickly draining. Students continued to pass by the two, and some of there were staring out of curiosity now. "Look, you’re wasting my time and I have to get to class. What do you want?"

The boy started to bite his lip. "I, I told you, Miss No- er, I mean, Vainia, uh, I wanna go... I mean, I want you... Er, no, wow, would you like to come with me... I mean, go to the ball as I- no, with me going too as you do, I mean-"

This was getting pathetic. Best she put him out of his misery. "No thanks. I'm not going." Vainia briskly turned around, whirling her hair behind her again and not letting him respond before she cut the conversation off. As she shifted her thick textbook in her arms and slightly looked behind herself, she could tell he was still standing there.

Oh well, she figured. “I let him down as lightly as I could.” Vainia adjusted the collar of her own uniform blazer as she walked in the courtyard towards her Calligraphy class. Females of Zeta Academy wore a suit in the same color scheme as the males, but wore a skirt instead of the pants of their counterparts. Vainia made her outfit unique by accessorizing high black tights with the skirt and rolling up the sleeves to her blazer until they were above her shoulder. She hadn’t lied to the boy, at least not entirely. By now she had even forgotten his name.

She didn't reject his poorly worded offer purely because she wasn't going - if she did like him, she would have found a way to get there. No, the reasoning behind her cold denial of his feelings were simply that Nolstuvania Sestrum truly couldn't date an Inusian man. Not with her homeland and upbringing, not with the prejudices and hatred she took from Inusians simply for being born where she was. And she wouldn't be going to the dance like she said, but not because she didn't have a date. She needed all the free time she had to work on her tactics, her combat skills, her ancient history studies, even her political sharpness. Anything to further herself.

Nolstuvainia Sestrum, as crown royal princess of the nation of Mortis and heir to her very own future, had a destiny to fulfill that required her full attention and acuity.

A small country directly across a gulf in Shorica and physically connected to Inusia in its westernmost plateaus, Mortis had a long history of being poor and weak. It never had any glorious conquests, it never had any liberators or conquerors of note, and it had never before had a bustling economy. Its people usually simply survived, but even that was changing in recent years. Inusia, ever the giant and boisterous holy land in history, was always usurping land from its neighbors. And Shorica, a monopolistic and powerful naval nation had all shipping and navigating trades in the world. Mortis was never a country of natural resources, exclusive imports, strong armies or navies, or even a competent people. There was always something better than them.

Nolstuvainia had experienced that first hand. Ever since she was a child, she had been heralded as the Prodigal Queen, and was paraded through the broken and old streets of Mortisian urban centers. Its people would flock to her, they loved her, forgave her every move and idly taught her how to be the best that she could be. It sickened her.

No matter how the country fared, truthfully Vainia wasn’t living a hard life. Her family, being the royals, were very rich (in Mortisian standards) and she garnered the utmost respect from everyone in the country. But for all her mediocre riches, the common-folk of the country were much worse off. Homeless were rampant. Death and disease ravaged the populace. Supplies were short and rationed. Yet as she saw in frequent diplomatic trips, the rest of the outside world was nothing like the plights experienced in Mortis. People in Inusia were overflowing with riches, simply throwing them away, taking them for granted. It was sickening and the economic disparity genuinely wounded her.

Now, as Vainia traversed the large and lavish Zeta Academy campus, she walked up the steps to one of the Language buildings and strolled past the various classrooms that were either ending their lecture or starting one. Various linguistic history and specialization classes were abound. There was no subject not covered at Zeta Academy, the richest, most prestigious private school in Inusia. It was packed with students, nearly all of them well off and from rich Inusian aristocratic or bureaucratic families.

They absolutely sickened her, every single noble who threw away their gifts and their blessings and their wealth, and she refused to get close to any of them. There was always someone better. Partly because she knew that, Vainia strived at all times to be the best in anything she did and disregard any of those who stood beneath her. Somehow, despite her hatred of almost everyone in attendance at the school, Nolstuvainia was extremely popular amongst both the student body and the faculty. They viewed her as a magnanimous student, one who was amazingly smart and focused on her work while simultaneously juggling her eye-catching beauty and cool, mysterious charms. It was as if her resentful nature only fueled the fire of her popularity on campus.

And why not be resentful, she thought to herself as she sat in her chair in the back of the Calligraphy class. In a few minutes, the professor took his stage and started to talk, but she barely listened and only took the bare minimum of notes. She didn't really need to do much to pass this easy, required credit. Her handwriting was exquisite already. Instead, she spent most of the two hour class pondering that which she always had on her mind: the sheer juxtaposition of injustice in the world she resided in.

Vainia was always a prodigy in most things she did, always successful with any objective she had. First off, she was and always had been a beautiful woman. Her small size only magnified the curves of her body and seemed to give her a childish innocence. Her face was sharp and usually deeply set into a pondering frown, and it was framed by deep brown bangs of her straight hair. When not pulled into a ponytail, as it usually was, her hair fell vertically along her back and stopped above her butt.

In addition, the girl had a drive for success and a stubborn head that was strong enough to simply ram through most problems. Every villager and merchant in the country whispered that she was illegitimate - she couldn't possibly be the next Queen of Mortis. She was too beautiful, too strong, too smart, too powerful. The current monarchs of Mortis were weak and powerless, and had no ambition of changing that or their country. So where could she had come from?

Vainia herself found it hard to disagree with such thoughts sometimes, but even that idea drew resentment from her. What was the point of living if one wasn't living for success or an ultimate goal? Why be content with a stagnant and weak existence? What was the point of ruling if it wasn't to help your weak kingdom and its population in need?

Ever since she was old enough to understand and feel passion over these things, Vainia Sestrum knew she had to change them. As an aficionado of success itself, she knew that she was the one who had to fix her town, her region, her nation. Her world.

But she was just one girl. Were her dreams foolish? Probably. Even if she would be the Queen when her parents died, she didn't have enough power to forcefully pull up a country by its bootstraps. She needed help. She needed power. So she started to make plans, write down her sprawling dreams, create foreign contacts and acquantainces, studied politics. She took notes on everything she saw and everything she remembered. She couldn't, no, wouldn't permit herself to forget anything she saw that might prove useful for her. Most importantly, she could never allow herself to grow detached from the people of Mortis and lose sight of them, for then her mission would be for naught. Her crusade would be useless. Her sacrifice would be in vain.

This was the striving point of her instinctive hatred of those more well-off than she or her people were. Even though she was a budding form of absolute authority herself, Nolstuvainia Sestrum would prove to be one of those rare and special people who take pride in chaos and reject any misguided conformity that the world may thrust upon them. Of course Vainia knew she was vain and self-confident, stupidly aspirational even. She knew that she would be in over her head the moment she made a move to do anything. But if she didn't start to do something, nobody would.

When she was about sixteen, she left her country in the dead of night. No goodbye to parents, friends, or family. It pained her, it stabbed her heart with a rusty dagger and twisted it a few times. And she knew it would hurt the people even more, having to suddenly lose their promised Queen. Every night when she closed her eyes, she thought of her father crying because he lost his beloved daughter. And despite the hatred she felt in her head, it drowned in sorrow and the sadness of her life's decision.

But that was tolerable to her. She could take it; she had to take it. The pain in her heart was nothing compared to the pain of her people, of the tragedy that was Mortis itself. If she could hurt herself, force herself to live in the mud of the pigs who subjugated her people just so they could live better lives in a better country, she was fine with that. It was noble, she knew. It was foolish, she knew.

So she took her most dire belongings and submerged herself in that which she hated. She found herself in Zeta, one of the most populated and most economically successful cities in the Inusian continent. It was almost exclusively controlled by noble Inusians. Foreigners and outsiders were looked down upon, terrorists and rebellious people put to death, and the poor were laughed at and spat on. In order to preserve her safety and maximize efficiency, Vainia kept her true identity as a secret and her motives unknown to everyone. It was the only way for her to survive.

The large portion of wealth she smuggled from Mortis was enough to ensure her tuition into the Zeta Academy, a prestigious catch-22 school that all nobles sent their young adult children to so that they could learn to lead. The money stolen would take a large toll on her country, but again... to her, the ends justified the means. There was no doubt in her mind with this philosophy.

It wasn't hard getting into Zeta Academy. The simple tests and proof of wealth were child’s play for Vainia. The hard part was yet to come for her - extreme preparation for her ultimate task. She planned to overthrow Inusia completely, throw its government in chaos, disrupt its economic centers. And with the nation in disarray, she would swoop in with Mortis' few war assets as a guerilla force. With pressure outside and inside, even a giant such as Inusia would collapse. She would pick up the pieces - no, Mortis would pick up the pieces. It would grow to a giant, a force to be reckoned with. Wealth and power would flow into the populace like milk and honey. Nobody would be in poverty again, nobody would have to suffer again. It was all up to her.

But she was too weak to do it the way she was now and she knew it. No matter how much training or studying she did to herself in Mortis, going into an unknown country with the intent to invade and conquer would just end up in deaths and more problems for Mortis. No, she needed the best self-education she could properly get and the best inside information in order to carefully and efficiently strike between the kinks in Inusia’s armor. That was why she went to Zeta Academy, the best school in the world. There, she would learn the pinnacle of swordsmanship, the ins and outs of royalty, and even the closely kept secrets of Inusia that could prove crucial to her crusade.

Once that phase was complete, she planned on integrating herself into Inusian politics and gathering a force that would allow her to throw her weight around in the country. Anyone who passes Zeta Academy’s curriculum with amazing colors was almost guaranteed to become nationally important and gain some job within the government, which was exactly what Vainia needed. A government was always easier to topple from the inside.

Vainia always had her plans laid out, but they often changed and adapted as she became aware of the reality of her new environment. She learned a lot about Inusia that would prove immensely helpful. Even so, she never expected to learn something that would change her plans entirely. One night, a few weeks ago, she heard that a crucial artifact of Inusian origin was stolen. It quickly became an international crime, one that was intensified when the long-dormant Mount Gulg in Nneoh erupted for the first time in centuries. It was more of a sign that the world was changing slowly, but it was amazingly apparent that weakening Inusia was indeed possible. With motivation like that, she felt even more self-confident and amazed at her potential.

The fact that it took her more than a few days to hear about the incident, however, brought about a feeling of insecurity in the young heiress. No matter how smart she was, the incident and mystery of the artifact stolen was more of a reminder of how little Vainia knew about the world. After that, she studied in the Zeta libraries for days straight, even skipping classes as well. A sudden drive for knowledge consumed her viciously, one that wouldn’t allow itself to be quenched in the near future.

That was when she learned about the runes.

It was in a dusty old book, hidden beneath pounds and pounds of ancient tomes and bestiaries. The decrepit volume spoke of "runes" and "magic" and "alchemy" - all fantastical terms, sure, but obviously fictional all the same. But so much was written about them that she could hardly read them all, and decipher them as well. She knew the book was centuries old because of the interchanging dead languages it used; were it not for her furious studies, it would have been useless firewood to her. Fate dictated that it wouldn’t.

The book was fascinating. What she learned about “the majyykal sphere” was fragmented and barely made sense, but it spoke of a mythical time with miracles and healing around every corner. Floating castles, rivers that granted youthfulness, supernatural powers... it was all very hard to believe. Just for fun, she tried out the only fully sensible passage she could find - "Runic Arts". Apparently, the runes were a personification of personal balance and willpower that could accomplish many functions and form tangible scripts in the real world. She didn't expect anything to happen when she practiced one of its processes - perhaps she was tired and needed a break, or maybe her mind just needed a break at the time. Whatever the reason, Vainia Sestrum followed the instructions of the ancient book that night, and for the first time in millennia, she produced a rune.

It startled her and cut a table in half, at first. She had created a short sword out of thin air and screamed, instantly losing control of the spell. The sword fell downward, slicing clean through the table she was leaning on and a few books as well, before it dissipated. It wasn't quite solid, she assumed, but it had obviously been sharp enough to cut through mahogany like it was warm butter. The entire surface and outline of the sword seemed to be covered in ancient scripts, ones that predated even her earliest history lessons.

Coincidentally, they were very similar to the words that she found in the compendium of runes. She remembered falling on her butt in the library when the table had been cut, books and papers falling around her and flitting away in the air. She didn't move for a while, her eyes wide, all traces of previous sleep deprivation gone. She constantly looked back at her hands, rife with paper-cuts and callouses but otherwise innocent of the logical defiance they had just performed. In that moment, she was afraid for the first time in her life, truly afraid of what she held. But with that fear came determination, a new form of strength in her cause. She had power now, new and terrible and unreal power. All that she had to do was learn to use it.

Now, in Calligraphy class, Vainia looked up to see the teacher at his desk writing something down and everyone else getting up to leave. The class must have been over already. The two hours had went by quickly as she was meditating.

When she returned in her room in one of the Zeta dormitories, she dropped her textbook and journal (twenty second comprehensive volume) on her bed and immediately strapped on her rapier sheath to her waist.

Night was falling, and by now most classes were over. She was much less likely to be seen now, and even less likely to be approached - her "Ice Queen" reputation preceded her. She looked around her solo room once more before heading out, allowing her to shed any singular strand of hesitation left in her. All she needed for her mission was her rapier and her mind – at this point, weeks after discovering the ability, she found she barely had to make the incantations for basic rune spells anymore but had to simply think them. It was more taxing that way, but it worked quickly if needed. Just in case, she kept an abridged rune compendium (written and annotated by herself) attached to her rapier belt.

All this time and every night, she'd been to basic sword training and working herself to the bone in every chance she got that she wasn't working or studying profusely. Hopefully, she wouldn't have to test her tensed up muscles this night; this first self-assigned mission she was going on was simply reconnaissance. It was time for Vainia to stop being left in the dark like a common sheep being lead to the slaughter. It was time for her to learn what was really going on behind closed Inusian curtains and dark Zeta rooms. And tonight she would do that by breaking into the High Councilor of Zeta's office and reading over his records. Past surveillance showed that, at this time of night, there was an abysmal chance of him being in his office. He didn't return from his mistress' home until the early hours of the morning; plenty of time for Vainia to sneak in, take what she needed, and escape.

All this was what Nolstuvainia Sestrum took as fact on her trek through the dark ground of Zeta Academy in the late autumn season. Unlike before, no wind blew through the spacious campus, and it was stark quiet.

****

The Crimson Death was taking his time and enjoying himself in the High Councilor's office. He looked up to the tied up, shirtless man with a provocative, amused glance. "Why, I'm so glad I got here on time, Councilor Vaelus. What a fine night it is. And how nice of your concubine to join us!" Gin Taoris, Crimson Death, pointed with one of his swords to the woman lying on the Councilor's plush carpet, also tied up and in the fetal position. "Too bad she's being a dirty little coward right now..." He waltzed toward the Councilor's chair where he sat imprisoned, kicking his mistress in the back as he walked by. It drew a whimper from her. With resulting amusement, he chuckled and stuck his free hand into one of the pockets of his red trench coat.

Gin walked up to the Councilor's chair and circled it a few times, slowly and happily taking in the misery and fear that was radiating from the overweight, rich man. "You know, you're really quite boring. Rich man, cheating on his," With this, Gin looked at the desk in front of the bound and gagged Councilor, which had a photograph of the man along with a middle-aged woman and a few children. "... loving family. You're very obese, yet you strut around as if you actually mean something in this world." Gin's eyes were half-closed as usual, but when he looked at his prey, his eyes may as well have been viciously melting and falling out of his face. Either one would have produced an equal amount of terror in the man. "You're very much like a pig. I've a mind to stab you until all of your slop falls out of you..." He leaned in close to the Councilor's ear. "How's that sound... sir Councilor?" The obese man froze up.

The man in the red trench coat chuckled and left Vaelus' side, but a hideous stench of urine soon filled the room, along with continued frenzy moans from the woman in the room. Gin turned up his nose and his amused persona shifted almost instantaneously.

"Hmph. I'm trying to have some fun here and your fat ass is pissing yourself. Fucking despicable piece of shit." With a swift movement, he unsheathed one of his blades and held it up to the ceiling light in the office. It was freshly polished, shiny and gleamed light across the room. Gin looked at it fondly yet with detached eyes. At the sound of the sword, the Councilor's harlot began to struggle even more and even attempt to scream through her gag.

Upon hearing the weak yell, Taoris looked at the girl with an alarmed and irritated face. His eyes never opened wider than usual, but the rest of his face contorted into a furious gaze at the girl. “How many times have I told this girl to shut up, Sir Vaelus?” The woman continued to scream and struggle through her bonds. Taoris stalked towards her and raised his blade. "Those who must be told something twice are either ignorant or mentally incompetent. Either way, you don't deserve to live." Councilor Vaelus caught on to what Gin intended to do all too late, and despite his intense struggle in his chair, he was yet again useless.

Finally another grin graced Gin's face as he silenced the mistress' screams. The Councilor was too shocked to scream, but he and his chair fell over and his mouth gag drifted from his lips. He stared wide-eyed at Gin as the man in the red coat stood up and quietly laughed.

"W...why?" Vaelus' weak whimpers caught Gin's attention from the quickly bleeding out corpse. The man in red had only slashed the girl in her neck, but the cut was deep and her head tilted backwards at an impossible angle, fully exposing her neck’s innards to the world. She was most definitely dead. The flow of blood from her severed arteries began to slow after a minute, but continued to lap on Gin's black armored greaves. He wouldn't have it any other way, he thought as he looked to the stunned man on the floor.

"Let’s get straight to the point, Mr. Vaelus, now that we’ll have no more interruptions. I don't know if you know, but I was hired to track down and kill the man who stole your country's Crystal a few weeks back," said Gin as he stabbed his bloody sword into the corpse of the girl and removed his hand from its handle as if he were hanging a coat onto a rack. It made a disgusting sound, and revulsion was threatening to overcome the Councilor's gag reflex. "And after I fought him, I almost got myself into a bind. He wasn't strong enough to really prove a challenge to me, but the potential was there. I could have died. And you know what?" At this, Vaelus turned himself away from the Crimson Death, but Gin simply stepped over his immobile body and bent on his knees, lowering his face to gaze at the Councilor's squeezed shut eyes. Gin ran a hand back through his long, vermilion hair. "I loved it."

Vaelus shook almost violently. “You… you killed her… We were going to…!”

Taoris sprung up with a joyous sigh and started to loudly laugh. Vaelus, with a new crazed energy, shook his head. "This can't be happening, this can't be happening... To me! Why me?! We were going to elope! The papers were almost in order, I was… She was…" His monologue was interrupted by an armored kick to the overflowing gut that deprived him of all air. Vaelus was instantly reminded of the vomit threatening to ruin his new suit and shut his mouth in order to keep it in.

"I wasn't finished, you disgusting piece of horse cock." Another wave of irritation was upon Gin, and he gave the politician another swift kick to the gut to let out some anger. This time the man spat up some blood on his carpet. "Don’t you make me say it twice or I’ll have your room painted with your innards.” He whirled in place, letting his coat flutter behind him like a cape, and ran his hands over his hair and pushed it back from his forehead. “Like I said, given a while, the man with the Crystal could really give me a run for my money." He began to absentmindedly waltz around the spacious office. His irritated scowl had just as quickly morphed back to his enthusiastic and disturbed grin. "So I decided to let him run his course. I'm not sure if you know me, Councilor, but I have a reputation for... being pretty strong. I don't fear anything, haven't in years. But this man... This man!" Gin looked to the Academy Council member with an excited glare and bent down at his person again, this time lifting up the man's head by his scant gray hairs and glaring at his fearful eyes. Taoris’ own blue eyes were sparkling with a newfound passion and allure that they had been missing earlier. "This man could become terrifying! This man could kill me - he could give me death! He could make me feel pain again, and I haven't... I haven't...!"

A tap ran through the room, quiet and meek but noticeable to Taoris. He stopped talking and turned his head towards the door as if he had whiplash.

His look of ecstatic excitement evaporated instantly, replaced by tense attention. His head tilted, as if he was waiting or listening for something. Tears began to fall from the horrified council member's face as he waited to see what kind of unpredictable action the insane man would do next. Gin slowly made eye contact with the man again, his eyes beginning to widen. Somehow it was more terrifying than before - if the politician hadn't already relieved himself, he would have done so now. "Who... is that?" The councilor didn't have the strength of will to speak; instead he shook his head in confusion.

Rage flashed across Gin's features, and he slid his sword out of its sheath in record time. "WHO IS THAT OUTSIDE YOUR DOOR?!" His whispered yell was loud enough to shock Vaelus, but most likely not loud enough to carry through the room's walls. Again the councilor shook his head no, the ignorance and fear showing in every inch of his body. "Fucking useless fat piece of ass!" The words resounded around the room as Gin angrily shoved his sword all the way through the councilor's gravid midsection. No blood was spilled yet, but painful screams pierced the otherwise quiet night office. "You shut your whore mouth," remarked Gin as he punched Vaelus’ throat before he stood up and removed his blade. Finally, the freed gore splashed on his chest, and the bloody sword was satisfying at least. Councilor Vaelus convulsed, spraying buckets of his blood around the place, and then fell on his back dead with muscles still tense. Gin stalked over to the shut door and stood there listening without interrupting. Whoever was at the door was gone by now, he could tell. He sighed. This was supposed to be an easy kill that I could just slip in and out of...Something to pass the time. Now there'll be Inusians on my tail. Just when he had finally gotten on their good side! They weren't much of a threat to him, but still, it was something he'd like to avoid. He looked to the two corpses on the floor.

“I’ll have to clean this up before I go find my tail,” Gin sighed to himself. Then, there was a sly smile upon his thin lips; there was still some fun to be had tonight. He would find whoever had heard him, and brutally murder them as well, but first he would make sure there was nothing left of the corrupt politician and his concubine. “A simple match fire ought to do.”

...End of Part Eleven.

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