“Is anyone going to tell me anything?” Octavia asked as they made their way to the Fixer’s private study. “Ever since you people came into my life, nothing is making sense and I’m getting fed up with feeling like a fool.”

“Trust me, I understand your frustration…” Septima began, but the girl had had enough.

“Spare me!” She hissed. “I might be a country bumpkin, but I’m not stupid.”

“Fine.” Septima relented after a long pause. “Will talk as we prepare the luggage.” The older woman motioned for Octavia to enter the study.

The room was surprisingly normal. Bookshelves decorated one wall and a number of paintings of various people hang on the opposite one. The wall behind the wide desk was reserved for what had to be trophies and keepsakes. Not that she could see any meaning in keeping broken weapons and pieces of damaged armour as such, but they must have a sentimental value to the Fixer.

“Pull the second book on the fourth shelf,” Septima said from the door.

Rolling her eyes in frustration Octavia did as she was told. There better be an explanation after this, or she would march straight to Guild, take the largest possible loan and nullify her slave contract with the Fixer. Everyone might tip-toe around him, but there are rules and so far, he was spitting on almost all of them. In less than a day, her new master had endangered her life on purpose, knowingly invaded her privacy, and stripped her of her name. By the gods, he was treating her as if she was a common criminal serving her sentence. Octavia might not be a magister, but even she knew the law was on her side.

Pulling on the book produced a faint clocking sound and the entire bookshelf rumbled. A moment later there was another click and the sturdy wooden frame jumped half a step outward, almost hitting the girl.

“Why didn’t you warn me!” She yelled at Septima.

“I wanted to test your reflexes…”

“Is everything a damn test to you?!” The girl screamed and nearly pounced at the maid. The only reason she did not, was because she remembered that the expressionless woman standing at the door was a mage. And Octavia had the speed and agility of a dead cat.

“Yes. Everything is a test. If you have not realised it by now, you are being evaluated. Not everyone can serve my master.” Septima stepped forward. Her eyes flashed blue for a second and the air in the room grew colder. “You are not the first, we’ve had our eyes upon. Master did not want to put you through this, but I insisted. I saw your potential in the cards. I begged him, to put you through the test.”

“Why?” Octavia retreated slowly. Her only escape was blocked and she did not fancy her chances against the maid, even if she was an old woman on her deathbed.

“Because he needs someone like you. Someone who will question him and challenge him, when he is wrong. Someone who will erase the hurt of all the betrayals he suffered. You will be that person, and if it means I need to break you first, so be it.” Faster than the girl would have imagined, Septima pulled on the edge of the bookshelf, revealing a hidden chamber.

“You wanted answers.” The woman smiled viciously. “Here they are.”

This was what she had expected. Knives, daggers, barbed metal wires, swords, hatchets, sickles, long iron nails, knuckledusters, those she could recognise with ease. Every space on the hollowed-out wall was filled with various sizes and shapes of such tools of murder. From the most basic of instruments to outright outlandish contraptions, whose purpose she could only guess. And all of them she ignored in favour of the five large jars containing preserved human heads.

The gruesome trophies occupied the centre of the space, placed in a cross formation. A wide iron plate nailed to the wooden base of each jar, bearing markings of at least three different languages, Octavia had never seen. It did not take a genius to figure those had to be names. However, it took the girl several moments to recognise to whom the head in the middle belonged.

“The… Hero… Itami…” Octavia said in horror, as the world around her began to spin. The man’s liking could be seen on many statues, portraits, and Scripture iconography, there was no mistaking it.

This was unreal. It was all wrong. The Hero and his party had died over five hundred years ago. Yes. This had to be some sort of illusion. Some form of a twisted test. Everyone knew that Itami had died of his wounds after he killed the last Demon King. His remains were kept in the mausoleum in the Cathedral of Light in this very city. Along with the remains of his companions.

Ignoring her, Septima picked a small framed portrait, just larger than the palm of her hand. Carefully the maid whipped it with a clean cloth, before showing it to Octavia. It was a masterpiece of detail and colours. Almost like looking at people through a glass. There were six young people in that image. Two men and four women. All dressed in strange clothes at a place which was as strange as their clothing. Marble and iron surrounded them and there were enormous signs in the same language as the markings under the Hero’s head.

“The Hero Itami, Lord Saito, High-priestess Sophia, Masha the Ranger, the Witch Kelly, and Master’s fiancé Prima.” Septima pointed at each person with her other hand. “Master was the one to make this portrait seven days before they were summoned to our world.”

Octavia’s jaw refused to form words. She stared wide-eyed at those young innocent people. They were the heroes who had stopped the Demon King and his armies. To think that the other world would also have elves, humans, beastmen, and the likes, was mindboggling. No… In this portrait, they were all human. How is that possible?

“The Kingdom and the Church of Light tell many truths through the Scripture. But they also like to omit uncomfortable ones.” Septima said and placed the frame back on the wall. “They don’t like to tell that only the heroes’ souls can cross the barrier between worlds. Nor that pregnant slave women are used as vessels for their new bodies once they arrive. And least of all they like to talk that sometimes innocent people are caught in the summoning spell.”

Septima picked a leather backpack from the back of the bookshelf. Making sure it was properly unfolded and empty, she began to place various small weapons inside.

“Those who do not bear the Hero trait are sold off in secret.” Sadness and pride mixed in the maid’s voice as she continued. “Master was one of the lucky ones to survive to adulthood. The merchant he was sold to was an infamous member of the Black Market and took a liking to the boy. Training him to be a bodyguard and assassin, when needed, from the moment he could walk. Having a single trait and no talents, Master was quickly sold, time and time again until his origins were forgotten.”

Octavia struggled to process everything, as Septima picked a pouch and went to one of the paintings. Behind it was a safe, filled with potions. Gently, the old woman picked several and inserted them into the pouch.

“The fools actually believed it. Having one trait, that is. Sure, Visage of Husk is a great trait to have for an assassin or a bodyguard. It makes it so that no one can remember your face or recognise you in a crowd. But overall, it’s useless.” Septima turned around and pierced Octavia with her gaze. “Have you figured what Master’s innate trait is?”

“It has to do with the fact that he is still alive?” The girl said unsure of her safe. Actually, she was not sure if she was dreaming this entire thing.

“Yes. I am surprised you can speak at all. It took me days to form proper words when the truth was revealed to me.” Septima laughed and sat on the chair behind the desk.

“Acheron’s Bet,” she said as she fetched an old leatherbound book from one of the drawers. “It is a unique trait. As long as there is life in him, Master will not age.”

“Right now, you may think this is all a lie. A story I spin to test you.” Septima smiled cruelly and thrust the book into Octavia’s chest. “I can’t blame you if you do. But it is all in here. The story of how Itami betrayed Master. How lord Saito abused his power after the war with the Demon King. Masha’s attempted coup d'état. The stories of how Kelly bargained with the demons to advance her magics and Sophia’s fall from grace as she embraced necromancy.”

With trembling hands, Octavia opened the book. She was afraid to know, but something in her craved the truth. A perverse curiosity, a morbid fascination she did not know she possessed. The small voice of reason screamed in the back of her mind, that all of this was insane. It was not right on a fundamental level, but she crushed it and peered at the weathered pages inside the book.

“Property of Prima. Touch it again Seconda and I’ll cut your fingers!” was written on the inside of the cover in an unsteady child-like script.

“By the time master was reunited with his fiancé, her mind and body were broken. Of her previous memories, nothing remained. Years of abuse had seen to it, reducing her to a mumbling nameless slave.” Septima paused and leaned over to examine a cloak placed on the rack in the corner of the room.

“The Hero had purchased our Master, knowing very well who he was. But Master did not mind it. He considered them his friends.” Satisfied with the condition of the cloak, the maid placed it alongside the backpack and pouch. “Later on in their journey, they found Prima, or at least the shell of a woman she had become. You see, those with the Hero’s trait can use an advanced form of the identify skill, which allows them to see so much more about a person. Anyway, they found Prima and meant to sacrifice her in secret, so that High-priestess Sophia could unlock a latent talent or something like that.”

The story had captivated Octavia and, in a daze, she followed after the maid when she left the study. It all felt so surreal, but at the same time, she felt that it made sense. Her curious mind hungered to learn more, and the master of all secrets surrounding the Fixer was contained in the thin journal held in her hands.

Afraid to allow the pause to stretch further, Octavia asked, what she assumed was a reasonable question. “What’s the difference? Latent talent? Innate trait? You keep using those terms.”

“I keep forgetting you are not an adventurer. Normal people don’t usually care to know about such things,” Septima shook her head and sigh in disappointment. Not a nice thing to do, considering her statement.

“As you know, people are born with traits. A priest would do a reading around your fifth birthday and inform your parents what traits you might have.” Octavia nodded at that. It was common knowledge. “However, there are hidden traits, which most priests cannot see. One’s inability to notice them doesn’t change the fact that they are there. Thus, they are called innate traits. They are revealed later in life, either through circumstances or a trigger.”

Septima stopped and handed the girl the backpack. It was heavier than it looked, but she did not protest. “Talents are weaker blessings, which people can earn, either through their actions or by fulfilling certain requirements. Latent talents are those which a person has acquired, but doesn’t know they have done so. Some never do. Either way, unlike traits, which can be used as natural as breathing, talents require their owner to train to properly use them.”

“It sounds complicated,” Octavia said more to herself, than the maid.

“I suppose it might, to someone like you. If you are accepted to serve this household, you will have to learn this and more.” The jab felt unnecessary. Octavia was aware of her shortcomings and the more they talked, the more obvious those became.

“Oh! Right! Sorry, I interrupted you. Could you please continue?”

“That you did.” The girl chose to ignore the snide remark. She might be oblivious, but she would not be goaded into a fight she would lose. “As I was saying,” Septima continued in a flat voice, “the Hero and his party planned to sacrifice poor Prima in secret…”

“And did they?” Octavia asked without thinking.

“Are you an idiot?” The girl opened her mouth to protest but then realised how stupid her question was. If they had sacrificed the woman, she could not have written the journal.

“When Master learned of their plans, he escaped, taking Prima with him. However, that came at a price. He made a deal with the Evil Gods. In exchange for what little remained of his lover’s memories, they would remove his slave mark. And in exchange for half of Prima’s remaining life, they would replace her mark with one bearing his name. Master refused, but it was not his choice to make. It was Prima’s and she did not hesitate.”

Octavia felt tears roll down her cheeks. Even if this was a tale meant to make her sympathetic to the Fixer, it was a damn good one. To think that such a deep, strong and enduring love existed.

“Despite that, Master did not begrudge the Evil Gods, or the Gods of the Dark Side as he likes to call them. No,” Septima chuckled, “they became his patron gods. Those of the Light had ignored his pleas in favour of the Hero and his divine task.”

The girl did not see how any of this was funny or amusing. If anything, it was heresy and reason enough for the Church of Light to have the Fixer burned at the stake. After all the Evil Gods are the ones worshipped by the demonic race.

“I know what you are thinking, and both you and the Church are equally wrong,” Septima grinned like a lunatic. “A Demon King set to destroy or conquer the world is as much of a threat to the Evil Gods as it is to the Gods of Light.”

“That is…” What? Preposterous? Heresy? What was she going to say, when Octavia herself had one of Lexi’s blessings on her?

“Exactly. That’s why I had my eyes set on you. Like every former servant in this house, you too have been touched by the Evil Gods.”

“You have known.” Octavia narrowed her eyes, her hatred of the woman returning in an instant.

“Of course, I have, you dolt! Do you have any idea how hard it was to sabotage your business? And don’t get me started on convincing that idiot Francis to give you the time of day…”

“Septima!” The stern voice of the Fixer cut their conversation and Octavia’s upcoming outburst. “We still have company.”

Standing next to the man was Miss Rex. No longer sitting, the girl could see that the Ranger was only a head shorter than the Fixer, who towered like a giant over all of them. At least Octavia was happy to see that she was not the only one who wore her emotions on her sleeve. Piper made a very poor job to hide the interest she was having in Septima’s outburst. The adventurer must have heard them before she and the Fixer rounded the corner leading to the dining room.

“Septima, please escort Miss Rex to the gate.” Their master commanded, his stern gaze fixed on Octavia. “Make sure she can access the house, while I’m away. I want to have a word with Octavia. In private.”

“As you wish, sir.” The maid lowered her head obediently and motioned for the Ranger to follow her.

“You come with me.” Without waiting, the Fixer turned around and strode towards the servant rooms. “Bring my gear as well.”

They walked in uncomfortable silence until finally, he gestured for the girl to enter one of the spare rooms. It was dusty and the air was stale. However, it was identical to her own. Yet, everything inside looked as if it was made yesterday. To Octavia’s surprise, there was no bed in this room. In its place was a short table with seven leather-bound books, identical to the one the girl kept close to her chest.

“I have a reputation with the Guild.” The giant finally spoke, as he gently caressed the items. “Septima was doing her best to protect it.”

“I don’t understand… uhm… sir?” She better be polite. The last thing the girl wanted was to get on the Fixer’s bad side.

“Current events forced me to go with a rather, dishonest approach when recruiting you.” He rumbled, making several pauses as he chose the correct word he was looking for.

“What Septima said a moment ago, is partially true. We have been observing you for quite some time. I did lean on Francis to give you an unacceptable loan. Septima was meant to approach you when you failed to obtain the funds you needed. But that did not happen. However, the idiot thought he could cross me. Doesn’t matter, I’ll deal with him in due time. However, I do apologise for this development.”

“Why?” Octavia’s voice cracked with retrained emotion.

“I deal with many secrets. As you have learned. Most are better to remain secret. I may not hold any love for this Kingdom, but I do not desire to plunge it into anarchy and chaos.” The Fixer sat on the small couch and gestured for her to take the seat on the opposite one.

“What happened when I purchased you was an act. A show for the Guild Master. People think that fixers report to the Guild, and in a way this is true. However, we take orders only from the Grand Magister and the Council of Guild Master, who represent the Adventurers Guild interest across the continent.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Octavia shook her head, hoping that by doing so she would wake up from this nightmare.

“You see, Guild Master Yaghaty is no longer suitable for his post. He knew of your unique talent and he knew that you could not be sold to any adventurer’s team. Instead, you were planned to be the main item in his less than legal private auction.” The Fixer leaned back and took a long breath, calming the rage that had entered his voice. “Pleasure slaves are the new hype on the Black Market. Alas, this is only the tip of Yaghaty’s crimes. Abuse of power, embezzlement of Guild funds, unsanctioned murder, and the list keeps going on, and on.”

Octavia was speechless. Only one burning question remained on her mind. “Why the enslavement ritual? Why strip me of my name?”

“As I said, I have a reputation to keep. The reason I am going to Hasker City is for the sole purpose to bring the new Guild Master. Not doing things properly might have tipped Yaghaty that I would be coming after him when I return. He is not a stupid man. Not someone to be underestimated.” The Fixer paused and tried to smile at Octavia, but it only made him look more tired. “Did you pay any attention to the terms of your enslavement contract with me?”

“Uhm… No. Not really.” She admitted sheepishly.

“I’m not surprised,” the large man let out a long sigh. “Are you making this offer of your own free will? Yes. Are you going to follow my commands, without question and without hesitation? Yes. Are you going to betray me or my trust? No.”

Was that it? Those are the very basic rules any slave has to agree to. Well, the middle one is a little ambiguous and open for interpretation. But overall, nothing special. If anything, this information made Octavia more confused.

“Why strip me of my name, then?”

“Because in a minute you will be faced with a choice. First, I would like to make something very clear. The last term is in place to protect me and my secrets. Even when the mark is removed, you will not be able to talk about what you have learned here with anyone who is not part of my household. This is the reason why the mark is placed on your left thigh. Septima used her talent – Siren, to implant that rule in your mind and everyone present, while you answered during the ritual.”

He raised his finger before Octavia could open her mouth. If they had done that, what else was this man hiding from her.

“For now, you will listen. Whether you accept my offer or not, one thing will not change. For the next thirty days, you will train under Septima and Piper. You will remain a slave for that period, no matter what. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” She nodded. The Fixer was not giving her much choice in the matter.

“As for changing your name, I want to make one thing clear.” His voice took on a menacing note. “I do not want slaves. It is a practice I abhor. However, thousands of years of culture will not change because of the whims of one person.”

He stood up and walked to the window, his hands clasped behind his back. “This name, Octavia, is part of my offer. As I mentioned, I have a reputation to keep.” He leaned forward to get a better look at something outside.

“In one of the languages of my world, this name loosely translates as the eighth one. Just as Septima means the seventh one. Lucy, or Prima as you know her by now, came up with this idea.” He waved, at Miss Rex most likely and turned around.

“Wait, if this is all an act,” Octavia spoke as she tried to wrap her head around all of this, “why keep it up when we are in your home?”

“Piper Rex is not a part of my household. In fact, she is here to spy on me. It will not be the first time she’s tried it. Usually, I deal with her employer discreetly, once I learn who it is. This time, however, she is walking a dangerous line. At the moment I am not sure of it, but I believe she is working with Yaghaty. Not for, but with. Out of her own volition.”

“Are you going to kill her?” As soon as she asked the question, Octavia realised it was the wrong one. “I mean, why not get rid of her, if you know she is a spy?”

“Because I know her tricks and this makes her predictable.” The Fixer stepped away from the window and returned to the sofa. “Honestly, I would prefer for her to remain alive. That said, should I be forced to kill her, I would not lose any sleep over it.”

Reaching behind the sofa, the large man retrieved two heavy sacks. The clinking sound they made as he placed them on the table, told Octavia that they were filled with coins. An absurd amount of coin.

“A hundred thousand gold crowns. Yours to take in thirty days, along with your freedom and your old name. This is your first option.”

And what an option it is, Octavia thought as burned the image of the heavy sacks in her mind. There was just one problem. She had no idea what to do with so much money. And there was the small issue, that Miss Rex knew she had obtained a blessing from Lexi. There was no doubt in Octavia’s mind that she would be hunted by the Church the moment she stepped out of the gate. That was if she did not get robbed and killed first. Still, this was a hard amount to simply ignore.

“Option two,” she watched the Fixer place a piece of paper and a needle next to the sacks. “You remain Octavia. Out of your free will. Not as a slave, but as my partner, comrade, and confidant. A fixer, just like me and Septima. This is not a slave contract. This is an agreement between you and me. One signed with your blood and mine. It is a sign of an unbreakable bond where I come from. And as a fair warning, you have seen what becomes of those who betray my trust in them.”

Octavia felt her mouth go dry. The last thing she wanted was to be reminded of the gruesome trophy hidden behind the bookshelf in the Fixer’s study. With a grunt, the man stood up and made his way out of the room.

“Take your time and think about it.” He said from the door. “I’ll expect your answer in the afternoon.”