by Noam Oswin
[Demiurge: Janus]
[Command Authorized.]
She rose from the lake, her frozen form shuddering, her eyes blinking, wide, open, confused.
“L-Leader Erzili –”
“Onna darling, tell me,” she managed to keep her voice steady. “While Erzili expected it from Janus, because he does not know better, Erzili did not expect it from you. Darling, what possessed you to come here with Janus and fight Giggles?”
“I –” the poor girl licked her lips. “We – I assumed – we didn’t know he was –”
“Didn’t know he was powerful?”
The girl didn’t answer.
“Tell me, Onna darling, if the nightmares who owned the Domains neighboring the Hlahan Forest weren’t all incredibly powerful, do you not think Erzili would have taken them all out and claimed their lands already?”
The girl looked down. “I – I believed, with the Demiurge –”
“Yes, Janus certainly could have dispatched Giggles easily. Had he first allowed me to tell him the commands that enable him to weaken nightmares, or turn their domains against them, or simply just erase them – then certainly, you two would have triumphed. But, he did not, allow me to tell him. Instead, instead darling, you went to pick a fight with a former Night Emperor.”
“I – I wanted to be of use to you… I wanted…”
Erzili sighed. She reached out and touched Onna’s cheeks. At times, Erzili loathed her Epithet Skill. While it was useful, numerous times to gleam information and guarantee loyalty, she had to deal with events like this, with people and nightmares, utterly and completely obsessed with her. In love with her. Incapable of doing without her. They would sooner murder their wives and children than spend one second away from her embrace. Sooner slit their throats than be starved of her affection.
Onna was one of those affected more than most. The poor thing. “Darling – you are of use to me.”
She was the perfect puppet. The most loyal toy. No matter what Erzili did, no matter what order she gave, Onna would always follow. Unlike Slim, who followed her because they had mutual goals, Wunder who followed her because of his principle of obeying a person who could best him in combat, and Arol, who she could never truly break of her religious coding, Onna was completely and wholly hers.
Body, mind and soul – completely hers.
“It’s alright, Onna darling. Erzili was able to bring you back – and that is all that matters.”
She could not afford to lose lieutenants. Whereas her plan would be better if she could merely find terrifyingly strong individuals as her followers, strong nightmares were often headstrong, rebellious and ambitious. She did not need those sorts. No, she wanted to recreate her own circle, her own court. She did not need to join the Court of Nightfall or pledge loyalty to the Midnight Convent –
She would recreate her group, and with that group, she would rise to the top, return to her former glory, and surpass it.
She had not lied when she told Janus she wanted to create a Kingdom of Nightmares.
She however, had no intention of peaceful coexistence. No, Erzili’s goal – Erzili’s true dream – was the complete domination of the Kingdoms of Man. Why stop at following a master who would be the King of Nightmares, when they could be the King of the World?
Yes, Janus would be the King of the World, the one who the world’s eyes would be on. Behind the scenes, while she fed reassuring words into his ear, giving him the tenderness and compassion he was so severely starved of, her Epithet Skill would fully instill within him an undying love and devotion to her. The King of the World would nothing more than another beautiful puppet in her long tentacled arms.
And then, once he was strong enough, she would pit them against each other, Demiurge versus Demiurge.
Janus versus Morpheus.
Lady Gothel, upon granting her the name ‘Erzili’ had asked, what desire she possessed. Lady Gothel asked, “What is it you want from the world?” At the time, when she had not known, or understood, her answer then had been simple, and it had not changed.
I want everything.
And soon – soon, she would have it.
“Come, Onna darling… we have preparations to make.”
Chapter 21: Secrets
In the process of putting my plan into action, I received two unexpected messages.
Quest Objectives Complete!
¨ Conquer Krvavi Lagoon – [Complete!]
[For properly surviving an encounter with the Elder One of Cosmic Humor, your Minion’s Loyalty has gone up!]
As far as I remembered, I had lost against Giggles. Something strange was going on back in the Hlahan Lands. Erzili would certainly be irritated feel about me costing her a lieutenant and it was not a conversation I was eager to have.
“This is his room.”
“…it’s our room. Funny. Did you know Saintarelli was our roommate?”
“I did. It was why I noticed he turned off his comms and tracer.”
“To think one of our roommates would try to desert… that sucks.”
Juma and Sophia opened the door. With [Phantasm] active, I hid in the corner of the room, invisible and intangible. The duo walked in, making a beeline for Neo Saintarelli’s things.
“When I find him, I’m going to make sure he suffers painfully before I kill him.”
“…so, you really are High Eminent Sophos’ daughter?”
“What of it?”
“Nothing. Just… surprised.” Juma shrugged. “I grew up in an orphanage. There were only three of us at first. I, Niha, and Kuri. We used to make jokes that one day we’d try to make friends with an Eminent’s kid and show them all the good stuff they’ve missed out in life.”
Sophia snorted. “And what exactly are three orphans from the Middling Slums supposed to show me?”
“How to have an awesome summer. Catching thunderflies that appear after a storm. Storing mud during the rain and using it to have a mud-fight to cool off on the hotter days. Baking bean-buns by the dozen to sell at the bi-weekly market, and then using the profits to buy frozen-cocoa eggplants and peppered cassava sticks. There was even one time, we snuck into Father Goma’s office and “borrowed” his bottle of Gabani Spirit Ale. It was Niha’s idea – and it ended with a drunken dance battle –”
“Why, exactly, are you telling me any of this?”
They reached Neo’s bed and belongings, and I noticed Juma cross his arms as he shrugged.
“Because Saintarelli wasn’t wrong –”
“Excuse me?” she snapped at him.
“I didn’t finish.” He said immediately. “Only idiots think gender matters when it comes to who to listen to and who not to. Same thing with age or class – I mean, General Hoplite is younger than both of us but that won’t stop him from destroying us with the flick of his pinky.”
“So how wasn’t Saintarelli wrong?”
“Most of the recruits in the Lance Brigade are Middlings like me or Saintarelli… and they won’t get it. It’s different, where we come from. Prominent and Eminent women are just as powerful, if not more so than their male counterparts. but most Middling women either do petty trade at the markets or work at the softer Warehouses or are just typical mothers and homemakers.”
“And that makes them weak?’
“It makes them different.?” Juma explained. “The average Middling woman will lose nine out of ten times to the average Middling man. Saintarelli is seeing things from that view. Simply change his view would by reminding him you’re not the average Middling woman.”
“…that’s surprisingly decent advice, coming from you.”
“I have my moments.”
Neo’s, or rather, my box was dragged out. A small little briefcase-like thing with combination looks embedded on the front. “This is it.”
“Do you think we’ll find something that’ll tell us where Neo fled to?”
“We have to. I didn’t come this far just to let someone else’s cowardice be my downfall.”
> Sophia slammed her fists against the lock, while Juma hummed. “I don’t think Neo’s planning on deserting.”
She slammed it a second time. “Why else would he turn off his tracer and his comms?”
“It doesn’t add up. If he wanted to desert, he wouldn’t do something to draw attention to himself. If anything, turning off his tracer is almost as subtle as wearing a giant sign that says ‘look at me, I’m doing something suspicious.’”
Sophia scoffed. She slammed the lock a third time. “Then what theory do you have to explain it?”
“Neo’s hiding something – something he doesn’t want people to find out. His reaction when he saw me was odd, and then there’s how he managed to slip away unnoticed while he was standing in the middle of formation. People said they never noticed him leave, though everyone was tossing slurs at you at the moment so it’s possible they were preoccupied, but still he’s never displayed that level of stealth before. The only people I’ve heard of that are that good at sneaking are Double E.”
“You think our roommate is an agent of the Eminency of Espionage?”
“Call it a gut feeling.”
“That’s ridiculous. Why would the Double E send a spy into the AAA? Besides, the higher-ups have our Godscript records. If he really was a spy, they wouldn’t let him stay.”
“Unless he’s got clearance from somewhere even higher,” Juma said, crossing his arms. “Your dad is the High Eminent of Progress right? So, you’ve probably been around the other High Eminents before. Is there any relation between the High Eminent of Espionage and the High Eminent of War?”
With one final hit, Neo’s box snapped open. The contents spilled unto the floor. Clothes, provisions, some minor trinkets, but most importantly, the items I put in place to fit everything.
Juma picked up the paper, brows furrowing. “Why are there so many notes?”
Sophia’s lips curled into a snarl. “These notes are written in Marién.”
“What, children of High Eminents don’t take language classes?”
“That’s ––”
“Relax, I’m joking. Pass it here.” Juma took the papers, blinking. “Ah, letters from dearest dad Jacques Saintarelli… interesting… I wasn’t aware we were allowed to receive letters.”
“We aren’t. Not yet. Not until we complete our first Mission.”
“So that means Neo here has been illegally communicating with daddy dearest. Explains the shadiness.” Juma scrolled through the parchment. “Oh… interesting.”
“What is it?”
“…apparently Neo’s here on a task. The letter is written in a way that makes it look like his dad is just asking about life and telling him about his siblings, but when you rearrange every third letter from the right, switch the diacritics used on the vowels and read it from right to left as if reading Qe’al Sos, the letter has an entirely different message.”
“A different message?”
“Neo’s here to spy on someone. The message doesn’t say who or why – just that he should do his best to increase in level and rank, and when it was time, he’d be told.”
Sophia crossed her arms, her brows furrowing. “He’s… a spy?”
Juma’s lips twitched into a smile. “Told you.”
“That…” she frowned. “…he’s a rather horrible spy if we found out so easily.”
Juma laughed. “Maybe. But let’s look on the bright side – we were worried over nothing. Saintarelli isn’t going to desert because he has a mission to complete.”
“I suppose that is one benefit.”
Sophia gave Juma a long look.
“Something on my face?”
“How is it that an orphan from the Middling district can read Marién?”
“The Fathers at West Sycophant Church are polyglots. Father Goma understands Alhamisi, Marién, Elvani and Khel. Father Shiga knows Qe’al Mot, Leporima, Golos and Jezik. The old coots sat us down and made us learn everything. It was absolute torture, believe me.”
“…and how did you know how to decipher the hidden message?”
“It’s called Jigsaw Encryption. I read about in Kaleidoscopic Cryptography. My brother Kuri and I used to spend time at the Annals in the Middling District, reading book after book. The Archivist gave us that book one day, and we spent the next few weeks leaving secret messages for each other everywhere. I never thought people still used it as a legitimate way to hide messages.”
Child of Destiny alright. He even has the childhood for it. Sophia’s silent bewilderment of Juma was well deserved. It was amusing watching the boy fail to understand the impressiveness of his feats.
“Somehow, you consistently manage to impress me, despite how little right you have doing so.”
“My, what kind words. One might think you have a heart that isn’t made of stone.”
“And once more I remember that those rare moments you sparkle are nothing but a charlatan’s ruse hiding your muck-covered nature.”
“And once more you need to lighten up. We’ve confirmed that Saintarelli isn’t planning to desert. That’s great. Time to move on. I need to work on my aim with the long-rangers. I’ve been practicing more with SR-411 –”
“You seriously can’t be thinking of just leaving the matter as it is?”
Juma frowned. “Saintarelli is a spy. Mystery solved. What more is there?”
“Shouldn’t we report this?”
“And get us all executed?”
“Executed for reporting a spy?”
“Remember what General Hoplite said? What applies to one of us applies to all of us. If one of us is executed, we’re all getting the guillotine.”
Sophia bit her lips. “But –”
“No buts. Let it go. At best, we can just use this to tell Saintarelli that we know his secret, and he should up his skill level to make the Brigade stronger. But if you aren’t comfortable with him being a spy, and want to get back your reputation, it’s something you can settle with a PvP.”
“We still don’t know where Saintarelli is.”
Juma shrugged. His gaze turned in my direction. Directly, where I was hiding and invisible, his gaze landed there, for two full seconds. “I’ve got the feeling he’s a smart dude. He’ll turn up, and hopefully, with his tracer and comms back online.”
“But –”
“No more buts! Training! Let’s go! Now. Come on.”
The room was left empty. Deactivating [Phantasm] I let out an irritated breath. Walking over to Neo’s open and broken box, I sorted through the documents, picking up the papers and pressing my lips tightly together.
They bought it.
There were no letters. Only an idiot of a spy would communicate via letters, encrypted or not. I’d managed to piece together the fake letters using Neo’s memory of Marién, along with some cryptography knowledge he possessed. The handwriting used was mine, not Neo’s, which was just a precaution in case somehow, they knew what Neo’s handwriting was supposed to look like.
It was a short and simple plan using a mix of truths and lies. Simple enough that I almost didn’t believe it would work. Neo was a spy, true. His father sent him here to spy on someone, true. Yet, his father had never written him any letters.
Well… I don’t think they’ll be bothering me anymore. I should put Neo’s comms and tracer back online.
[Communication System Re-Enabled]
[Live Tracing System Re-Enabled]
Godscript Notification!
[You have {3} unread messages.]
[You have {2} new friend requests.]
I hit the read button.
New Message!
Title: How about we catch some lunch?
Time Delivered: 13:24:33 PM, 12th Syco, 2141AE.
Sender: Juma Al’Amir [Lance Brigade Captain] [Recruit First Class] [NMR Kill Count: 108]
Details:
Hey, Saintarelli, it’s getting close to lunchtime. Meet me at Mess Hall 7, I got the cooks to make us some bean cakes. There’s a
lso Marisian cuisine if you’re interested. I’m loaded up on enough coin to pay for both of us. I’ll be waiting outside at 1500 hours sharp. Don’t be late!
He was inviting me to lunch? The nerve of this boy…
I hit the next message.
New Message!
Title: You’re a fucking dead man
Time Delivered: 11:51:10 AM, 12th Syco, 2141AE.
Sender: Vik Vistorel [Lance Brigade Member] [NMR Kill Count: 26]
Details:
What the fuck Saintarelli? What the hell was with you making googly eyes to Juma? The entire brigade thinks we’re secretly fucking each other in the showers cause of you. You’re fucking dead to me! Hear that? Dead. I hope the cunt and bastard find you and put a round through your skull. Fuck you. Useless piece of shit.
Well that went splendidly. I’d barely been impersonating Neo Saintarelli for a day and I was already changing his life.
New Message!
Title: Dude you’re awesome
Time Delivered: 11:23:42 AM, 12th Syco, 2141AE.
Sender: Miles Chamberlain [Lance Brigade Member] [NMR Kill Count: 40]
Details:
Dude that was awesome! The way you stuck it to that bitch Sophia was gold. Stupid Prominents and Eminents always looking down on us cause we’re Middlings, but if it weren’t for a lot of us working away in the Warehouses, doing all the farming and mining and producing, they wouldn’t have those silver and gold spoons in their mouths. I’m glad someone like you could say all the shit to her face that I wish I could. Keep it up man, I’ll be rooting for you!
Rooting for me? How quaint.
Searching Neo’s memories brought me an understanding of the Alhamisian social order. Eminents were the highest class, the bourgeoise, the elite of the elite – comparable to the one percent of earth. They made it clear they were superior to everyone else by always floating five inches above the ground, and the soles of their feet never touched dirt. Prominents were directly below them, rich, wealthy, and influential and comparable to the millionaires and upper-middle class. They floated two inches above the dirt to signify they were higher than the rest, but not high enough to be at the same level as the Eminents.
Then there were the Middlings, like Neo, Juma and everyone else. Not all Middlings were dirt poor or broke, but even the wealthiest Middling couldn’t compare to the poorest Prominent. Finally, the class below Middling: the Lowling. A class consisting entirely of slaves and criminals who were more or less property.
