He drained the remaining contents of his mug. “I am afraid my answer is not as noteworthy as you would expect. Our agents have spotted you several times in different cities over the years. We quickly spread a basic profile of you amongst those of high rank. So when you were spotted at Willow Way, an agent tracked you, taking painful and expensive precautions not to be detected. He finally concluded you were headed for Larin and sent word of your estimated arrival.”
Killmar took another sip from his mug. “I see. Quite impressive. Which leaves why?”
Jack smiled. “There is an annoying group of mercenaries that have muscled themselves into Larin. We would like you to assassinate their leader.”
“A contract? This is why the Nexus exist, so you fools do not pester me. I am going to kill you now, and everyone who was involved in this waste of my time.”
The old thief paled. “The Shield of Yonil! That’s the payment.”
“Why didn’t you use the Nexus?” hissed Killmar.
“The Phantom Mint himself gave the order to contact you directly,” he blurted out.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“All I know is these Sapphire bastards are costing us a lot of money, and the boss said that this way would be quicker.”
“This contract seems a bit simplistic to require my services. Any number of assassination institutions would be far less costly. Why do you need me specifically?” he asked, taking a sip from his mug.
Jack relaxed at this and ordered himself another ale. “There are two reasons. The first being that the man leading the Sapphire Wolves is frighteningly skilful to the point that dealing with him otherwise, though possible, would also be costly. The real problem however is the Phantom Mint don’t just want him dead, he wants him humiliated and toyed with before he’s sent to Henensu’s Hall. And since failure will only add to the man’s reputation, we need someone who can guarantee success.”
Killmar sat back and stared into the contents of his mug. “Tell me about these Sapphire Wolves.”
Jack drained his mug and ordered another. “They are a small outfit. At the moment, they are only forty-one, the leader included. But what they lack in numbers, they make up for in skill.”
“A common Eranian mentality.”
He paused as his ale arrived. “Yes, but strangely enough, they are all human lads. They occasionally take contracts from some of the families, but mostly their income comes from the local businesses. Protection they call it. The store owners don’t have much of a choice whether they want the service, but they do actually deliver. They killed a hundred of my boys within the first week.”
“Being protected from thieves by the thieves currently robbing you . . . An interesting concept.”
“It’s new. I’ll give them that.”
“Why haven’t the city guard dealt with them? You said they’re skilled, but they are still only human. The ewiens only assign those of the fifth tier or higher to a city’s guard. Five guards would be more than enough to deal with them.”
Jack emptied the mug of bitter liquid down his throat and ordered another. “That’s what we thought when their leader first arrived here, but then he fucking killed eight of them by himself.”
“Impressive, more so when you consider that he is human. I’ve not yet heard the name of this man.”
“Well, about that, we don’t rightly know.”
Killmar turned his head inquiringly.
“The name he’s using is clearly an alias.”
“My patience is wearing thin.”
Jack looked at him as if not sure how to respond. “Well, he . . . he calls himself Killmar.”
“What are his noteworthy characteristics?”
He had clearly expected some kind of outburst and now exhaled loudly. “You are a strange one. Most men would scream bloody murder if they found out someone was walking around claiming to be them.”
“I am not most men, and he is not the first, nor will he be the last.”
“Aye, there’s truth in that,” said Jack draining his mug. “The man you’re looking for is seven feet tall, has long blue hair, a magical alteration no doubt, and carries an unusually large great sword on his back.”
“How public do you want his death?”
“As public and brutal as you can manage. We want to send a proper message to those who think they can just set up shop wherever they want.”
“Do you want him to weep like a child or just beg?”
Jack laughed and slapped the table hard enough to topple the mugs causing purple liquid to spill over the surface. “Gods, man, if you keep this up I might just fall for you.”
“I take that as meaning I can use my own discretion. I’ll return when it is done,” said Killmar as he rose to leave.
Jack caught his arm and called to the barmaid for another round. “Don’t leave. Have a drink with old Handsome Jack. I’ll order you some more juice.”
Suddenly, he felt the air become heavy and his breathing became ragged. It was like the air had turned to water. Golden eyes bore into him from within the dark hood, and he felt his hand go numb before falling away. He didn’t know how, but he had somehow forgotten who this man was and made a grievous error. One that is now more likely than not to cost him his life. “Forgive me,” was all he could press out.
“Relay this to the Phantom Mint. He might think his mysterious identity keeps him safe, but if he ever has someone approach me again, I will show him just how easy it is for me to find him, and he won’t enjoy meeting me.”
Ellena rushed over to Jack with his order as Killmar left, and asked in hushed tones. “Who was that?”
Jack seized his mug like a man clutching driftwood, his eyes fixed on the spilt purple liquid. “A terrifying man, my love. Nine hells, it’s like those eyes gouge holes into your soul.”
“AND SO HE saved Princess Hinamori and brokered a peace treaty between the Empire and the Tohuran Collective.”
“And this was before he founded the Sapphire Wolves, correct?” asked Jessica.
“Oh yes, many years ago,” assured the old rotementa shopkeeper.
Despite knowing the real Killmar, she couldn’t help but be sceptical. “Sneel, are any of these tales based on truth?”
He smiled, and she really wished he hadn’t. It stretched the already taut skin even further, exposing his molars. “It is hard to believe, and granted, people love to add aspects to the tales they tell, but it is a fact that everything I’ve told you has happened. Why, you can ask any tohura you encounter. They would at the very least confirm he brokered the peace treaty. Though I would not recommend mentioning the kidnapping, as they don’t see it as such and are quite sensitive about it.”
“There is something else that has been bothering me.”
“What might that be?”
“Well, when I first entered the city, I was so dazzled by everything. It is only now that I realise I didn’t really see any ewiens, aside from the guards. I saw many other races, most of whom I didn’t recognise, but still it is odd, yes?”
He stared into her bright blue eyes. “Jessica, you should endeavour to read some books on the places you intend to visit.”
She smiled. “And miss this experience? Never.”
He returned the expression as he held up two pieces of fabric from which she had to choose. “The ewiens have a very unique social structure. Each and every man, woman, and child serves within the imperial government. They are assigned to an occupation according to their tiers, and since they don’t have the time to sufficiently swell their population, they rely on other races to fill non-governmental occupations.”
She moved her raven hair as he placed some fabric on her shoulder. “What do you mean they don’t have the time?”
“Well, you see, the ewiens only live to an average age of thirty. Their women are only able to bear children between the ages of eighteen and twenty-three and are with child an entire year before giving birth. Do you understand now? Their short
lives don’t allow for much breeding, unlike my people.”
Jessica’s eyes widened. “Wait! They spend most of their lives as children?!”
He stared at her a moment before breaking into laughter.
“And what is so funny?” she asked, slightly irritated.
“Forgive me. You just seemed so sincere in your concern. Ewienian children achieve adulthood when they turn three. Their incredible growth rate is a well-known fact,” he said as he started packing away the tools of his trade.
“Oh, I—”
Killmar entered the store, and she noted his mood had only worsened as he turned to the old man. “Do you have what you need?” The master weaver nodded as he walked over. “Then we will return in three days for the dress. Where are the other clothes?”
She indicated the wooden box next to her.
He regarded the black tunic and trousers he had given her with disapproval. “Why are you still dressed in those?”
“Well . . . um . . . I thought—”
Not waiting for the answer, he picked up the wooden box. “Never mind. Come, we’re leaving.”
She wondered what had caused his mood but knew better than to ask. She’d only seen him like this once, when he had caught her praying to Jion, god of the hunt, to aid him in his search for game. She didn’t know why, but he seemed to rather dislike all things celestial.
He paused at the shop’s door. “Oh, and Master Weaver, if you disappoint me, I’ll burn down this shop . . . with you in it.”
The old man watched them leave with wide eyes then scurried to lock the door behind them. “Different, eh? Dangerous seems a more apt description.”
Jessica squinted as light stung her eyes, the sun hung now exactly at eye level. The streets were becoming more vacant as merchants closed their shops for the day, and both patrons and proprietors headed for the taverns and brothels to enjoy some relaxation.
Despite the rapidly failing light, the city didn’t grow darker even in the complete absence of street lanterns and torches. For most shadows were banished by the ever-present green glow of the hekishoku-reikon.
Killmar moved through the streets unfazed by the alluring scene around them. In fact, she almost had to jog just to keep up with him. After several minutes, they reached an inn. Its width was that of three adjacent merchant shops, and it towered at a height of five stories. There were multiple windows spread out on each, their glass decorated with maroon patterns. A large, well-maintained sign with an illustration of a scantly clad woman spread out on a bed hung above the door. Killmar darted into the inn without so much as a pause.
She followed and silently admired the common room’s beauty. Unlike the Running Bastard, the tables were spaciously positioned, which allowed those sitting at them some privacy. The interior walls were paneled with a dark wood, covering the ever-glowing hekishoku-reikon. Save for a few strategic holes that illuminated the establishment with the help of the four great hearths in each corner. The tables and bar counter were all made from ullienian white wood, which was renowned for both its durability and ivory-like beauty. All the patrons were finely dressed and wore expensive jewellery. She could not help but feel naked under their judgemental gazes.
The innkeeper, a well-maintained man dressed in costly red and black silk, only glanced at them from behind the bar counter before returning to polishing the crystal glass in his hand.
“Welcome to the Silent Mistress. How may I serve you?” he asked without breaking his attention from his task.
Jessica noticed the fist clutched at Killmar’s side as he said, “We are looking for a room, preferably with a bath.”
The innkeeper looked up and examined their dusty clothes. “You seem to be lost. I am afraid, if you want a room you can afford, you need to visit an inn at the docks.”
His words were barely cold when she heard the wooden box strike the ground, followed by the deafening snap of timber. A dozen mercenaries came rushing down the staircase behind the innkeeper before coming to a sudden halt as they regarded the scene before them.
Killmar pulled his right fist free from the rubble that once was the ullienian bar counter and hissed, “You better start showing me some respect!”
The innkeeper regarded the split wreckage in shock, then he noticed he had dropped his glass. His expression changed from one of shock to rage. “What have you done, you simpleton?! Restrain this man and woman immediately! I’ll have you and your woman work here until you repay this debt! Don’t think you’ll get away with this!”
Jessica could not understand the man’s insanity until she noticed the light violet glow on each of the mercenaries’ blades. It was a popular, though expensive, enchantment which gave weapons an incredibly keen edge, as well as preventing them from going dull.
The men were clearly seasoned veterans as they spread into an attack formation.
She felt a surge of panic. “You can’t fight—”
Then it was there. The same unexplained pressure she had felt months ago in that cave; only this time, it was amplified a thousand fold. Everyone in the inn was being pressed to the ground, and she noticed through the open door that the people outside were suffering the same effect. Most of the patrons lost consciousness, whereas the guards were weakly trying to keep themselves up with their hands and knees.
Killmar regarded them with apparent disgust. “Remember this feeling, mortals. You are nothing but insects, only worthy to be crushed underneath my boot.”
Jessica couldn’t breathe under the intense pressure and started crawling towards him, hoping she’d reach him before fainting.
He was smiling as the mercenaries toppled over one after the other when she reached him and grabbed his ankle. His eyes widened as he saw her gasping for breath like a fish on land.
The pressure stopped, and he bent down, holding her as she coughed due to the sudden intake of air. “Are you all right?”
She gave him a weak smile at his unusual show of concern and lightly reached out, touching his cheek. “Don’t go forgetting about me.”
For the first time, she saw him truly worried, and she didn’t hate it. He picked her up and turned to the few remaining conscious mercenaries. “Is one of your suites available?”
“The newlywed suite is unoccupied as far as I know,” one of them replied weakly.
He glanced at her and enjoyed the return of colour to her cheeks. “When your master wakes up, tell him we are renting it.”
“Who are—” started the man before noticing the long, light blue lock of hair underneath the dark hood. “Supai’s six thousand cocks! You’re—!”
He realised his hood had slid back due to all the commotion and pulled it forward, covering his features again in shadow. “Do not jump to conclusions. I am but another traveller passing through, understood?” He made sure his tone told the man it was not a suggestion.
He proceeded to the stairs before coming to an abrupt halt. “Where is this suite?”
“Third floor, furthest door on your left,” blurted the guard.
“Thank you,” he said before advancing up the stairs.
Jessica looked up at her travelling companion. “I don’t understand.”
“There are many things you don’t understand yet. Care to be more specific?”
“Why hide your appearance if it would grant you the respect you so firmly demand?”
He sighed. “Because it grants me more than respect. Long ago, I walked around openly as you suggest, but all it did was draw needless attention to myself. I was constantly plagued by warriors seeking fame, or noble women who wanted my hand in marriage, and those were the less bothersome consequences. The more my fame grew, so too did the complications until I was finally faced with a choice. I could either withdraw myself from society or destroy each city upon leaving. I chose the less bothersome of the two.”
She smiled. “Well I am glad you didn’t choose the latter. I have to confess, I didn’t expect you to confirm your identity.”
“You are no fool, Jessica. I knew bringing you here would mean you would hear the rumours about me and fit the pieces together.”
He reached their room and opened the door. The floor was laid out in black carpeting with maroon patterns, while similar coloured, long heavy curtains hung from the window frames. A large bed dominated the eastern half of the room, with two wardrobes on either side. The northern wall was home to a small desk with a personalized hekishoku-reikon-fashioned lamp. The western wall had been turned into a bathing area, fitted with a tub that could easily accommodate six people. Finally the middle of the room provided a dining area with a round table and four comfortable-looking, cushioned chairs.
Jessica had to fight the urge to just keep quiet but finally said, “Um, you can put me down, I mean I’m all right now.”
“Very well,” he said as he lowered her, feet first, to the ground.
She admired the room’s beauty. “This is going to be expensive.”
He shrugged before sitting down on one of the chairs.
She saw a chance and took it. “So does that mean you sell the magical items you get as payment?”
He blew the long dangling lock to the side of his face. “Why do you assume that?”
She sat down on the chair across from him. “Well, from what I’ve seen, you clearly have no problem with spending absurd amounts of gold. And according to rumours, you have never requested gold as payment for any of your deeds. They say you only offer your services to someone if they have a magical item you want.”
He snorted. “Is that what they say? I suppose it makes sense coming to that conclusion.”
“So?”
He feigned ignorance. “So what?”
She pouted. “So where do you get all your gold? Are the rumours even true?”
“You have become awfully interested in me,” he said with a slight smirk.
She looked away. “Is there something wrong with that?”
He leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. “I suppose not.”
She picked up something in his voice that alerted her. “Is something wrong?”
He seemed surprised by the question. “Why do you ask?”
Birth of a Mortal God Page 10
