“Yeah, yeah, yeah, but what’s in it for me?” He leaned back, his shit-eating grin widening as he kicked his feet up on his dented desk. “Well, I believe I made the terms of the deal very simple. You do this for me, and you live. You don’t, and you die.”
She remained calm, her silvery helmet laced with gold-like metal, obscuring the top half of her face.
“Nah, I don’t think you’re that stupid.” He swirled his hand, a ball of flickering flame filling the otherwise dimly lit room with an unnaturally red light.
“See, ya come to me for this, so ya must know I’m the only what can do it, see?”
She gave no response.
“That means ya can’t kill me, cuz ain’t nobody out there who knows how to do what I do.”
Her hand clenched ever so slightly around her spear, almost escaping his notice . . . but not quite.
“Ah, I’m right, ain’t I?” He sat forward, looking up at the towering sentinel of a soldier. “How’s about this; I make it for you, you pay me . . . oh, let’s say four hundred thousand.”
She couldn’t hide her disgust, her nose twitching like she smelled something rancid.
“No.”
He laughed a humorless laugh. “Listen, sweetheart, you ain’t in charge here. I’ll drop it down to three fifty but no more.” He stood, spat in his palm, and extended his hand to shake.
Without hesitation, the Luxian captain backhanded his offer away. “You disgust me, but I will accept. You will receive your gold in three days’ time.”
He grinned viciously. “Good. I’ll see ya around, sweetheart!” He snapped his soot covered fingers and the doors opened behind her.
She turned, her bright cloak standing out starkly against the grimy, uncomfortable surroundings.
“Alright, maggots, listen up!” The team looked up as he barged in. “We got three kreinin’ days to get this order done or the first thing I’ll test the new batch on is you!”
The ragtag team of experts quickly got to work as he gave them the plans, the aasimar working with the half-orc and drow to ensure that when they would fire, they wouldn’t break, or worse, explode.
He stepped through a doorway on the ground floor and his foot landed on the balcony of a high tower, the sigils around the doorframe making the transition seamless.
He reached into the air and pulled out a metal pipe carved like a dragon’s head. A small gout of flame appeared on his fingertip as he lit the substance inside it, and he sucked a breath of it in.
He held it there for a moment, planning his next move as he leaned up against the railing. He let the breath out and the deep purple cloud spread out into the smog filled air.
Then he died.
They held their sending stone up and whispered, “Target down. Requesting extraction.” They quickly slid down off their perch, not bothering to watch the body fall, opening up their bag and sliding the one-of-a-kind long range rifle inside, the magic swallowing it up into a space larger than it should be.
They vaulted over the edge of the roof, hundreds of feet in the air, and fell right into the waiting portal.
They landed on their feet as they always did, their feline form having saved them many times. “So? How did it go?”
They smiled warmly, rolling their eyes at the question. “Same as always: got in, took the shot, and got out.”
They leaned down and ruffled his hair a bit. “Thanks to you, that is.”
He punched their leg. “Give yourself some credit!” They laughed and just shook their head.
“I see you two are enjoying yourselves.” That low, rumbling voice surprised both of them. The shorter man turned as he demanded, “We did the job, now where’s our payment?”
The voice chuckled. “All in due time, little deal-maker. You will receive three hundred upon completion-” a soft thunk came from the shadowy corner, the same place as the voice. “- and the other seven hundred in three days.”
The taller person approached the shadow. “He’s gone, Ezz.” The halfling swore colorfully under his breath. “At least the bastard paid.”
They knelt down and picked up the pouch, admiring the craftsmanship of it for a moment. “I have a feeling he might have actually thrown in a bit of a bonus.”
They held it up to the light and found their eyes wandering, taking genuine focus to look at the bag. “I think he gave us an eyeblock bag.”
Ezz immediately perked up. “An actual eyeblock?” The tabaxi nodded. “I can’t even tell you what it looks like, I have to focus on the act of looking at it too much for that.”
He smiled. “Well, maybe he isn’t so bad . . .” They both knew the truth, though.
Captain Aziraphale pierced the dummy’s chest, hay and stuffing being ripped out by the curved back of the spear tip extending to the sides. She worked swiftly and by the time she was done, there was nothing left but the post it had been mounted on.
A knock came at her door at that moment. “Enter!”
A younger soldier stepped in and snapped to attention, first forming a fist and quickly slamming against their chest before holding the back of their hand to their forehead in salute.
“At ease,” she said, slamming the butt of her spear into the soft training room floor, pushing it easily deep enough to stay there with no support. “I bring news of certain matters, Captain.”
She stopped. “And what of these matters is new?”
The young soldier said “A new fletcher has taken over, but the arrows are still to be made.” Aziraphale nodded. “And how long ago was this?”
“Two days ago, captain.” “Your business here is concluded, then.”
The young soldier quickly saluted again and left, the door closing firmly behind them.
She picked up her spear, examined it for a moment, and threw it at the post with an enraged scream. The tip of the weapon burst into ghostly golden flames, and the post exploded with a crack like lightning hitting a tree.
She put her helmet on, quickly donning her gear as she left for the Tenevris Conclave once again.
He opened the door for her by hand, his pristine midnight blue coat almost seeming to glitter. “I apologize for any disrespect my predecessor may have given. He was a disgusting man, with no honor.”
The captain looked around, slightly surprised to find the room much nicer than before, the smell of umbra-weed smoke gone.
“I do hope we will end up on amicable terms.” She actually had to look up slightly at him, the stoneborn’s long braided hair almost seeming familiar.
“So long as I get what I want, that shouldn’t be a problem.”
He laughed. “You’ve forgotten who holds the power here! I can ruin you in an instant, Captain Aziraphale.”
Her fist clenched. “I never told him my name. How is that you know it?”
The towering man motioned to a comfortable looking padded chair. “Take a seat.”
She didn’t move.
He smiled and swapped the chair with the one from behind his desk. “You know the cities well.”
She sat, her cloak vanishing to ensure it wouldn’t get caught on anything.
“I had him killed because I knew you had ordered these from him.” He pulled a weapon from his belt, almost resembling a flintlock but with vents along the chamber.
It was a beautiful thing of death, twin wisps of shadowy purple and radiant gold smoke barely visible from the ejection point, the sides decorated with beautiful gold, silver and obsidian designs.
“How-”
A soft click came from the safety disengaging.
“All in due time.”
He sat comfortably across from her, the gun not aimed at her but held so it could do so quickly.
“I’m surprised you don’t remember me. I was the one you kicked to the curb for being too weak for you.”
“You kicked me, and left me lying there in pain. You had been my last hope back in the Domain.”
Aziraphale started to speak, but the stoneborn adjusted his grip on the gun and she fell quiet.
“That was when I realized what was wrong with it: only the obviously strong are allowed to shine.” He gestured with the barrel of the thing.
“But here? As long as you can survive, you can make it to the top. I’d been planning this for years, and then you show up. You order specially made guns that can withstand the smite of Luxian soldiers.”
“It was perfect.” He smiled warmly, a terrifyingly genuine smile.
“Thank you. I don’t think I would have struck soon enough without you giving me the motivation to do so. Now, I know I’m being cliche, doing the whole villain monologue thing, but isn’t it fun?”
He sat forward. “Tenevris isn’t about surviving, it’s about living!”
“It’s about freedom! It’s about chaos and building something out of it, and that’s exactly what I did.”
She started to move ever so slightly, getting ready to do something, but he leveled the gun at her easily.
“Do you remember me?” he asked.
“I . . . remember.”
lI remember a child who could barely hold their focus.”
She had a desperate plan. “Perhaps we can come to an agreement.”
He sat back, lifting the barrel away - but not too far - away from her direction.
“You keep them, I don’t tell anybody who you used to be, and I walk out of here alive.” She seemed as confident as he was, but she wasn’t. Not even close.
“Ah, taking a page out of his book. That’s the thing, Aziraphale. I’ve learned how to hold my focus. I’ve even taken a new oath. An oath of freedom.”
He leveled the barrel at her, focused-
-and pulled the now glowing trigger.
The sound it made was like nothing from this world, almost like an angel’s scream of pain, condensed into barely a fraction of a second.
The bullet flew, the shadowy smoke trailing behind and mixing with the radiant, creating something far more powerful.
It struck, and a shockwave of force burst forth.
She was dead before she hit the floor.
