Chapter One Hundred and Sixteen - 116
The sun had set hours ago by the time Eliza DuFont's feet hit the Sunrise Quarter. Crowds that in other areas of the city were still thin and frightened of the recent breach were heavy and boisterous there. The danger had never quite spread into the Sunrise Quarter, perhaps because it was the farthest away from the Wall, and the monsters spent their lives well before reaching the district. Or perhaps because the ornate walls between the Dust and Crafters Quarters were manned with dozens of private mercenary forces.
Eliza had passed quite of few of them on her trek, their levels typically around mid-thirties but occassionally higher. Her experienced senses could pick out the tell-tale signs of First Temper on them, though it was rare to see anyone even nearing their second.
Strong, to a point, she mused as another three hired mercenaries escorted a rotund man in silk brocade. They were all dressed in jackets and robes, their enchanted armor mostly hidden beneath common clothing. The rich denizens of the Sunrise Quarter were rarely as strong as a common Iron or Bronze Rank Guilder, and the same was true for their security.
Any stronger and the mercenaries would be too expensive to hire. Or we would pick them up. She made a mental note to have Vera or Tera send a recruitment squad into the Quarter. The strength she detected was being squandered on guard duty.
The Guild ruled Haarwatch predominately upon their strength, but secondarily by their numbers. All combatants with talent were allowed to join and take the Oath, and it was even offered as a form of leniency when Guilders captured bandits or ruffians with a modicum of skill. At present they easily had fifteen hundred Tin Ranks, with around six hundred Iron Rankers, and half that in Bronze. Silver Ranks, the leaders of their branch forces, made up only two dozen.
The Elders were, of course, Gold Ranked by virtue of their position but rare were those that actually had the power to back it up. Eliza herself, for instance, was merely a strong Silver Rank before her promotion. She had risen in the Guild through politics and an excellent track record; she had earned her place, no mistake about that. Unfortunately, that was a sentiment she often found herself defending.
Damnable Elders, she scowled as the crowds parted around her use of aura. The folks around her shifted away from the slender woman without quite knowing why; it was an effective and efficient way to move through the city, though it did tend to leave a wake of unsettled emotional distress. Damnable peasants. Burning, insufferable city!
Life at the top of the heap in Haarwatch was likely as rife with schemes as anywhere else, except they fought over a trash heap. She had worked so very hard to develop and execute the original Foglands operation, and when it blew up in her face, she had scrambled to pick up the pieces. The Guild had scraped by without losing too much face, but the arrival of the Inquisition was a hit they had not been expecting. Or at least, Eliza had not.
Machinations within machinations. The wheels of deceit and ambition turned wildly within the Spire, and Eliza did not, could not trust another Elder. Too many plots and secrets, pet projects and quiet obsessions made up the lives of the other Gold Ranks, though in wildly different proportions. Hyde and Regis were violent but straightforward enough, while Latvere was too much of a lapdog for Fairbanks to scheme without permission. It was Teine, above all others that she doubted. His past...experiments had always been strange and unruly, but not until the expedition had been rescued had his projects become a top priority of the High Elder.
What were they working on? What is going on with the Domain? Things were changing in the city, and Eliza doubted it was for the better. The Master Inquisitor's hand was on the scale now too, after all.
And now the Dayne girl is getting involved. Eliza hadn't missed the girls maneuverings at the cathedral. She'd been angling to enter the Domain, despite what she had said about the wilds or hunting that killer. Teine was nervous after she'd left, quickly excusing himself despite Eliza's offers of help; something DuFont knew the Elder of Spirit needed to continue his experiments. The bastard had done something, likely something illegal or worse, sacreligious. If Vessilia knew something she shouldn't, then things could go very badly for Elder Teine.
Eliza grinned, the idea of sweet leverage sending a warm flush across her chest. She increased her pace.
DuFont held her thoughts close as she navigated the wide, smooth walkways of Sunrise. Her path had been running more or less parallel to the Ianus River the entire time, but her next turn set her directly on its banks. Rising before her was a large and impressively made manor, one that was built over the river itself and acted as a private bridge.
Lights hovered above its tall walls, flitting organically around the immaculate construction. Eliza's Analyze picked out the materials and construction of the wall and manor with practiced ease, a small part of her impressive Mind cateloguing and pricing everything she saw. It was a learned reflex, but it had served her exceptionally well. For instance, she could tell the walls were heavily warded with various hidden sigils, likely carved on the inside edge of the span thick barrier to keep them from disruption or defacement. The type of stone also told her that it was not particularly conducive to Mana, which meant the wards weren't offensive or even strictly protective. Were she to leap over the walls there would be nothing to stop her from passing through harmlessly. It was her knowledge of the place, however, that informed what the wards truly were: a privacy screen.
Before her was the Water Lily, a gentleman's club of ill repute in the city, but frequented by much of high society. Eliza sneered in disdain. There are no gentlemen here.
Regardless, she stepped through the circular arch and into the inner courtyard. She had business to sort.
The building was indeed suspended above the Ianus, built with such grace that not a single support beam was in evidence, allowing free passage for all craft that plied the river. It was a marvel of construction, and Eliza did not miss the irony. Haarwatch may tout the Wall and Guild as their greatest accomplishments, but she was sure more money was put into this damned pleasure palace than the entire Eyrie.
She flared her Willpower, muting her own chaotic thoughts and emotions. Clarity descended, and with it, she began to move. The inner courtyard was large, at least a hundred feet in diameter and dominated by an elaborate fountain of two Humans locked in a delicate embrace. Water, pumped up from the river, poured obscenely from their entwined mouths to cascade down their verdegris covered bodies. The main entrance to the Water Lily was bedecked in gaudy, garish curtains and gilt everything, but that wasn't her destination. Eliza turned to the right, circling around the manor itself and proceeding through several beautifully crafted stone archways.
The path led further out onto the river, an impossibly large stone structure, made more impossible by the lush garden that sprouted up around her. Thick green foliage and delicate, ornamental trees in vibrant purples, oranges, and magenta filled an area expertly spaced with wide pathways. It was quite beautiful, a fact that did nothing to quell her visceral disgust. Establishments such as the Water Lily were not to her liking, and were she truly in charge of the city, every whorehouse in town would have gone up in flames by the morning. Even standing here, in the innocuous gardens, had her skin crawling.
Which was probably why the bitch chose this spot to meet.
Eliza patted her hip, caressing her offended ego with the faint promise of violence. She still wore her gauntlets (rarely took them off, in fact) but they were of particularly fine make: she could feel every ripple and edge of the sword at her side. It was a strange one, she had to admit, though that had only fanned her interest even more. When she had seen it on that fool treasure hunter, the Elder of Acquisitions knew she had to have it.
Crescian Bronze, in the Foglands? If the others knew of the blade's provenance, no doubt the struggle for control would increase ten fold. It was why she kept the details of the blade a secret, especially from Katan and his dogs. Crescian Bronze was worth twice its weight in gold, a damn sight more than even a Rank III enchanted blade of steel, and that was without anything extra. The edge would never dull, the surface would never rust or stain. More importantly, the material was highly reactive to Mana, making it perfect for inscriptions.
Eliza's eyes slid over the surface of the sword again, but still she could not find a single marking on it. Her Analyze Skill as at Adept Tier and still she could perceive nothing from it, save for the fainest of sensations of its past owners. Eliza did not fully understand the new aspect of her Skill yet, but since hitting Adept Tier it had begun to...almost sing the origins of the inanimate to her.
She caressed the hilt of the sword as she had done many nights over the past months. There was a recent touch, one that was not inconsiderable in the weapon's peculiar memory. A strange tang to their Mana, it called to mind nothing so much as a feeling of...yearning. Ambition, perhaps. The Elder did not yet know the depths of the Adept Skill, but each attempt calmed her, setting her Mind a task worth chewing over.
It was an impressive weapon, worthy of her collection, but it was ultimately nothing more than that. A hobby. A distraction. Meanwhile, the other Elders were working on far more...impactful projects in the dark.
The soft sound of leather on stone roused Eliza from her musings. Her powerful Perception immediately captured the presence of a young woman. With practiced slowness, Eliza turned toward her and smiled.
"You certainly took your time, Ilia."
The Sworn shrugged her dark-clad shoulders, but a whitened eye beneath her mask winked. "Have to have fun sometime, right? Sides, this wasn't exactly a planned meeting."
Eliza's smile turned cold. "Indeed. We're secure?"
"Of course."
"Excellent. I've run into a potential problem, and I need it surveilled." Eliza caressed the hooked blade once more before re-sheathing it. "Will you take the contract?"
"That blade," Ilia said, looking down at the Elder's waist. "Where did you get it?"
"What does that matter?" Eliza raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at the Sworn. "If you must know, it came from the Foglands. Spoils of war, you might say."
"I've seen it before," Ilia said, her eyes flicking up to Eliza's. "On a member of Magda's party."
"That's not a surprise," Eliza sneered. "I took it from Calesca myself."
"No, not her. The other one. The boy with the chimera."
"Chimera? Ah, yes. The one who perished with the Shieldwitch." Eliza caressed the blade at her hip.
"Perished? You're sure?"
Eliza looked at the Sworn, curious. The agent's tone hadn't revealed anything, and had in fact been entirely neutral; but something about her words, her interest, riled the Elder's interest. "Reports are that he and the Shieldwitch were beset by Frost Giants. None survived."
Ilia frowned and straightened.
"What was your interest in this boy?" The Elder asked.
"There is no interest," the Sworn assured smoothly, as her frown disappeared. "He survived a confrontation with me. In turn, I set loose an army of Frost Giants upon him and his allies."
"A savage retaliation," Eliza said, an appreciative smile on her lips. "I owe you some thanks for netting us at least one win in that arena. The Shieldwitch was more trouble than she was worth."
Ilia inclined her head, slightly. Just the right amount for dealing with a superior, nothing more. "Of course. The Sworn has a reputation to uphold, afterall."
"A shame for the boy, though," Eliza sighed. "I would have been greatly interested to find out how he'd tamed a chimera of all things.
"Will you take the contract?" Eliza asked again, making sure to sharpen her tone. Ilia hesitated and Eliza's smile thinned. "What's wrong?"
The Sworn didn't shuffle her feet or tighten her shoulders; she was too good at subterfuge for that. However, Eliza got the distinct impression of concern. "You paid out to the Order already. Non-interference, you said. Why's that changed?"
Eliza rolled her eyes. "The terms of that agreement don't cover this, so don't try twisting them. This is for another purpose. No killing, no kidnapping."
Ilia took a step closer, moving from the shadows and into the dim light of the three smallest moons. She wore the same blackened armor and aresenal of knives as before, though a number of them were newer and enchanted with impressive skill. She looked up at Eliza, nearly a full hand taller than her. "You know, if I'd known how much shit I was gonna get after bringing that girl back, I would've refused your offer."
Eliza smirked, somewhat sourly. The Foglands hadn't turned out well for anyone, as far as she was concerned. She waved her hand. "This is nothing like that. As I said, no kidnapping. I simply need your talents for surveillance."
"Fine. I'll hear the terms," Ilia said.
"You'll follow, observe, and report back to me the comings and goings of Vessilia Dayne," Eliza tapped her lip with a metal-clad finger. "Duration will be over the next month."
"The heiress? Again?" Ilia raised an eyebrow beneath her dark mask, evidenced by the widening of her pale left eye. "Why? Who's she gotten mixed up with this time?"
"If I knew that, I wouldn't be contracting you," Eliza frowned. "Do you have issues with the terms?"
"Not as such. It's just boring, s'all." Ilia's right hand ran across the hilts of her many blades. "I'd've figured the Guild woulda had her in hand by now."
Eliza fought not to snap at the Sworn's suggestion that the Guild could not control its members. Her Willpower cooled her emotions and help deftly weave her answer. "The Guild offers its people the freedom to seek strength, but it will not take mastery over its members. Truly, seeking to limit our members' freedoms would not go well."
"You mean you're afraid of the Duke, yeah?" Ilia grinned. Eliza could only offer a contemplative look and a jerky nod. "Payment?"
"A thousand crowns, paid in full tonight if you'll take the contract."
Ilia whistled, low and long. "Just to watch the brat? Why so much?"
"You're worth it, as is your discretion. Your assistance in earlier matters meant a great deal of trouble did not fall on the Guild's head." Eliza smiled, good-naturedly this time. "Plus, you'll have some challenge: the Duke's Hand guards her.
"Hm," Ilia grunted in gruff appreciation, and Eliza's smile sharpened.
Got her. Battle addict like her won't refuse pitting herself against the Hand.
"I need this begun immediately if possible. No one can know, just as before." A large leather bag was suddenly in Eliza's grasp, and the faint sound of shifting metal could be heard from within. "Do we have an accord?"
Ilia took a great, hawking spit to the side. It hit a paving stone with a surprisingly loud wet splat.
"If it's got you rankers all bothered, whatever that girl is into sounds like a bit of fun." Ilia grinned and her teeth practically glowed in the moonlit darkness. "Avet knows I need some fun. Sure."
She put out her hand, already glimmering with concentrated Mana.
"An accord."
This chapt𝙚r is updated by fr(e)ew𝒆bnov(e)l.com