Less than a candle-hour later, Sakina returned. She brought along with her the news that Ivak of Kersa was currently staying at an inn called ‘The Song of Solace’. The inn targeted well-off Dasrari masters and mistresses and was famous for its expansive, inner garden where clandestine meetings could take place. It was located at the heart of the Dasrari District, facing the central plaza where the status of the first Rezas stood.

Yuer turned to Sakina, “Did you manage to slip the note I gave you?”

The girl nodded in response, “Yes, esteemed young master. I bribed one of the servants responsible for cleaning. They agreed to slip the note into the Second Reznal’s room.”

Yuer clarified, “Tomorrow the Dasiri will definitely send someone to tail us. So, we won’t be meeting the Second Reznal at the inn, but at an inconspicuous bookstore in the area.”

“It’s good to be cautious, esteemed young master. Did Hasha leave?” asked Sakina.

“Yes, a candle-hour or less before you returned.” Yuer stared at the starry night sky and whispered to himself, “I hope she won’t disappoint me.”

---

Hasha’s chest rose and fell as she struggled to catch her breath. Several splatters of fresh blood stained her black cloak and clang to her once clean and new leather boots. She staggered toward one of the still bleeding bodies strewn on the ground and retrieved her dagger from a corpse’s chest. That corpse belonged to the last of the Shakoura underlings. There were twenty of them in total. There had been several Echo Listeners among them, including three Dark Listeners and one Earth Listener. Despite her harrowing triumph, Hasha wasn’t pleased in the least. She felt like she had truly miscalculated the situation. How could she have known that this insignificant wimpy boy, whom she had found after much difficulty, was tailed by a slew of Shakoura scum? The fuckers had ruined her new boots; the once shiny leather on them had dulled beyond recognition.

What a mess, she thought.

She wiped her dagger clean with one of the dead men’s cloaks and then removed it from the body. She walked back to the boy cowering at a corner in the alleyway. She lightly kicked his feet with her stained boot and grunted, “I should really kill you by now. You’re more trouble than you’re worth, little fucker. Good thing, he wanted you alive more than dead.”

The redhead then used both her hands and roughly hauled Tamine up. She draped the cloak she took off from the dead man over the terrified boy’s shoulders and gruffly ordered in harsh Semani, “Move. Or you die.”

Tamine who was too scared to utter a single word, simply nodded and rushed to guide the older youth toward one of the less known exits of the Undercity. 

Hasha followed a step behind the boy as he led her into a musty, dim tunnel several alleyways away from where she killed the Shakoura men.

The Mesrin’s keen senses remained on high alert as they trod through the muddy floor of the underground passage. In her previous fights, she had mostly relied on her physical, combative abilities, trying to reserve as much of her Echo as she could. Despite her best efforts however, she could still feel the shadow of Echo-burnout as it slowly crept upon her body. She worried about possible unpleasant encounters.

Shortly after reaching the end of the tunnel, Hasha’s foreboding prediction came true. A lone, willowy figure stood at the exit, looking back in her direction. They seemed to be waiting for her, as if they had prior knowledge she would pass through this very route. Hasha glanced suspiciously at Tamine, her hand slowly moving toward her dagger. In an instance, she conjured her Earth Echo, willing the wet ground to reshape itself into a solid wall of rock. She then swiftly pulled Tamine to her side and directed the dagger to his throat, about to stab him dead.    

Before she could pierce the boy’s skin however, her wall of rock melted down in less than an instance. An intense wave of unbearable heat wafted in her direction and the next thing she knew, she was violently flung into the air, dropping to the ground some considerable distance back into the tunnel.

Hasha spat a mouthful of blood as she gingerly rose back to her feet. The stench of scorched wool assaulted her nose. She looked down at her cloak, or rather at the burnt tatters that were left of it.

The Mesrin youth sighed, A Fire Listener. This night just keeps getting better and better.

Her white-haired opponent didn’t waste a moment and dashed to her, his fists glowing in bright orange. Hasha stomped her feet on the ground, rising up several boulders. She willed the muddy boulders to reshape them into jagged, solid earthen spears. She sent them hurling toward the Fire Listener, hoping to slow him down a bit.

The bright orange enveloping the Valquari’s fists suddenly darkened in hue, becoming a deep crimson. The red flame extended to the rest of his body, engulfing his entire form in a layer of crimson blaze. Without hesitation, he met Hasha’s spears head on. 

The earthen spears, unable to withstand the heat of his Fire Echo, melted upon impact. Hasha’s amber eyes widened in genuine surprise. At this moment, it dawned on her that she was in true, deep trouble. Only a high-level Listener could change the aura of his Echo at will and with such practiced ease.

The Mesrin redhead was well aware of her own capabilities, her Earth Echo was at best somewhere between middle-level and high-level. She could take on several middle-level Echo Listeners. However, she could not take on several middle-level Echo Listeners and a high-level Listener without assistance.

The agony ringing through her head was all she needed to know that her Earth Echo was exhausted. If she was to persist any further and force her Echo to materialize, she could easily lose consciousness or in worst case possible, lose her own life. She understood at this conjecture she couldn’t win against this young man. Therefore, she had to either kill Tamine here or to negotiate with the Valquari Listener so that he would let her leave with the boy.

She chose to try her luck with the latter option first. Thus, she started in Mesrin, “I have no quarrel with the Shakoura. All I want is to bring this boy out with me. You can name whatever price you wish.”

The long-haired Valquari fixed Hasha with an impassive gaze. He retorted in surprisingly fluent Mesrin, “And the many of my men you killed a while ago?”

Hasha was slightly taken aback by the Valquari’s casual handling of her mother tongue. Yuer had instructed her in the note to speak in Mesrin and she had thought him foolish for assuming violent, criminal scum would bother learning foreign tongues. Now, it looked like she was the one who had no understanding of the Shakoura and how they trained their people.

She collected herself and replied in a careless tone, “Your men wouldn’t listen. I tried to get through to them but the moment they showed up, they immediately attacked me. I had to defend myself.”

The young man titled his head. His black eyes scrutinized every inch of Hasha as he commented, “In truth, I am quite impressed. A mere middle-level Earth Listener who has yet to break through to high-level managed to slay twenty of my men. Four among those incompetent fools were Echo Listeners. To be precise, three middle-level Dark Listeners and one beginner-level Earth Listener. Yet, somehow you annihilated them all. How capable, indeed.” He then sharply demanded, “So tell me Mesrin girl, where is he?”

The redhead frowned, “He?”

“Your master. Also, where are the rest of you? The Light Listener and the expert assassin. It should be three or four of you.”

Hasha feigned confusion, “I don’t know any Light Listeners or expert assassins. Also, I have no master, just a client who commissioned me to bring him this boy.”

Promptly, the Mesrin recalled the written instructions Yuer gave her. One of the sentences cited that if she ever found herself in a position where she had to negotiate, he could always say this one thing: “I could arrange a meeting for you with my client if that’s what you want.”

The Valquari Fire Listener seemed to seriously consider her offer. After a brief pause, he dryly inquired, “Why does your client want the boy? He is unblessed. Why all this fuzz for a mere Undercity orphan?”

Hasha continued with the tale that Yuer weaved for her to say, “It isn’t about the boy. It’s about his dead father. There is unsettled debt between my client and the boy’s father. My client is of the uppity sort so he can’t come down to the Undercity himself. He hired me to do it for me.”

Just as the redhead expected, the Shakoura subordinate pinned her with an icy stare full of mistrust and suspicion. She mentally cursed her luck, thinking to herself: this ashy fucker just has to be a high-level listener and a sharp bastard.

Hence, Hasha didn’t wait for him to reply and quickly offered, “My client has sensitive and important information that the Shakoura would definitely want. He is more than willing to trade it for the boy.”

The Fire Listener lifted a fine white brow. A hint of curiosity broke through his perpetually impassive face. “And pray tell, what is this information?” 

Hasha answered, “He told me to relay this to you: The tiger sleeps, unaware of the fox deep in its den.” She then added, “If you wish to know more, you have to let me take the boy. I will then arrange for a meeting where my client will explain things further to you. I’m willing to serve as the go-in-between. What say you?”

The Shakoura subordinate fell silent. His mind seemed to be mulling over Hasha’s offer. He mostly distrusted her but he also appeared to be interested in her ‘client’. So, Hasha kept quiet. Her amber gaze instead honed in on the still cowering Tamine, who hid behind the Fire Listener. The boy must have felt her murderous intent because he protectively pulled his cloak closer to his body, overlooking the blood and the stench clinging to the wool.

The Shakoura subordinate also seemed to notice her unkind gaze. He promptly intervened, “No need to kill the boy just yet. You can have him but first, I must be sure I’m not being played.”

Hasha laughed, “Who in the world plays the Shakoura and lives? My client still has his senses about him.” She continued, “But if you’re still doubtful, he is willing to impart you with this one name as a token of good faith: Zolni the Silent Dagger. I’m sure you recognize the name of a fellow Shakoura member.”

The Fire Listener’s figure visibly stiffened at the mention of that name, his tone became dangerously grave as he asked, “And what about her?”

Hasha clicked her tongue, “What about her? She is a fucking traitor to the Shakoura, and she had been one since two summers ago.”

The young man’s deep, black eyes turned a raging, fiery crimson. Hasha said, “If you are unwilling to believe my client, just have a look at the underground vault beneath her personal quarters. Now, can I take the boy and leave?”

The Valquari uttered at last, “I hope you know what you are saying. I will allow you to take him but know this, if what you have just told me proves to be a lie, I will find you myself and boil you alive with my Fire Echo. You have to understand, I’m not the sort who makes idle threats.”

Hasha resisted the urge to openly sigh in relief, “I will be here again tomorrow night. We will know by then if what I’m telling is truth or lie.”

After a brief moment of deliberation, the young man finally nodded. He pulled the quivering Tamine from behind him and pushed the boy forward, “As of this day forward, you no longer belong to the Shakoura. Serve your new master well and let’s hope he doesn’t wish to kill you.”

Hasha couldn’t wait to leave this place. She strode toward the boy, dragging him behind her as she dashed to the end of the tunnel.

As the redhead disappeared into the exit along with Tamine Nakari, she hadn’t the faintest idea of the many fates she changed that night. By merely doing as she was told, the Mesrin girl had unwittingly saved the elderly Tewekaga’s life, delayed the decline of the Shakoura indefinitely, cut a future indispensable wing of the Semani Malhada, and subsequently shifted the many subtle dynamics of the Reznali court.

However, what Yuer himself didn’t calculate at that moment was how this one little favor he did the Shakoura would one day gain him the staunch backing of the Undercity’s formidable kings.

---

Yuer sat in his favorite chair. The tea cup in his hands had long grown cold.  In front of him, a familiar figure he hadn’t seen in a lifetime kneeled pitifully at his feet.

Tamine Nakari, the one person who had inadvertently ruined Yuer, was now a quivering mess awaiting his mercy. The fates were probably having quite the laugh at this turn of events. Yuer however, didn’t feel particularly inclined to join them in. In fact, he felt neither satisfaction nor gratification at the sight of the helpless boy before him.

 In the back of his mind, Yuer wondered why he felt so disappointingly apathetic about this long-awaited scene. He ought to gloat. He ought to feel joy and sweet vindication but all he could muster up was indifference. Looking at Tamine was like looking at a task he now could safely tick off from his to-do-list. This boy was but another acquired pawn that had its place to occupy in Yuer’s chessboard; nothing more, nothing less.

 At this conjecture, Yuer realized nothing short of gouging Jarak’s eyes out with his own fingers would bring him any true sense of fulfillment.  

Yuer glanced at the fifteen-summers old Tamine. The boy hadn’t said a word since Hasha brought him into the room. Instead, he shook in silence, just like a lamb in line for the butcher’s knife. It knew it could not escape no matter how loud it bleated.

Yuer broke the silence with an unlikely question, “Tamine Nakari. What is it that you dream of the most? What is it that you crave beyond anything and everything else?”

The trembling Tamine froze for bit, confused by this unexpected line of inquiry. For a fleeting moment, he looked up. His eyes were drawn to the composed and impassive face of his new ‘handler’. The youth didn’t look that much older than him however Tamine somehow couldn’t help but feel humbled and reduced in front of his deep, unfathomable eyes and poised bearing. The sash around the youth’s white robes declared to Tamine what he already suspected: the unreachable gap between their social castes.

The Undercity boy’s hands clenched into fists as he mustered the courage to answer, “I--I want to make my departed mother proud. I wan-t to be somebody someday.” Tamine’s shaky voice grew steadier the further he spoke, “I want people to know my name. I don’t want to die a little, nothing orphan among the countless many hidden beneath the capital.”

Yuer took a sip from his cold tea, “And how would you go about achieving such a thing?”

Tamine instantly answered, his tone becoming more heated, “I want to know more, to learn more, and to make things. I want to be given a chance. Why must I remain illiterate and ignorant just because I was born in the Undercity? Why must the Dasrari have everything? Why can’t I enroll into the Academy? Mother saved up every last copper for me to have enough for the admission fee and yet they kicked me out before I even stepped a foot into the door. They told me they had no room for Undercity scum. But why? What harm would it do to let me? Why must the world be such an unfair and blind place? Why?”

By the end of his speech, Tamine’s tears were openly streaming down his cheeks. Yuer stoically watched the teardrops for a while as they traveled down the boy’s chin and eventually tumbled into the floor. He now understood how Jarak was able to manipulate this boy so skillfully. Nothing was quite like having an open, bleeding wound around a hungry wolf.

Yuer put his tea cup back on the table. He said in a measured voice, “I cannot get you into the Academy.”

Tamine visibly sagged.

Yuer continued, “However, I can guarantee you admission into a place far better. Tamine Nakari, how do you feel about becoming a Kumatani?”

Tamine’s lowered gaze snapped to Yuer’s, disbelief apparent in their hazel, tearful depths, “A Kum-atani? But I’m an unblessed?!”

Yuer shook his head lightly, “It doesn’t matter. I can recommend you to the Tewekaga personally. He won’t mind bending the rules this once for my sake.”

Tamine’s eyes widened, “For your sake? Are you a Reznali?”

Yuer chuckled, “I know most Undercity folk grow up unaware of the politics of the surface but if you are to enter the Temple, you must educate yourself on the current political situation of the capital. The Tewekaga would hate nothing more than the Rezas and his clansmen.” The older youth paused before asking, “What do you know of the Alikana-marked?”

Fascination and awe suddenly sparked in Tamine’s eyes, “They are the rarest of the blessed. The Sacred Records deems them as the holy Mahatir’s favorite children. They carry not one but two marks of the Divine Echo. The Zaradate Temple reveres them. The common-born hail them as the heralds of peace and prosperity. The last Alikana-marked of the Empire died around a hundred summers ago. People say another Alikana-marked was born in the capital in the recent twenty summers but no one has ever seen them. Most of the Undercity folk believe it to be a lie.”

Yuer smiled faintly, “Well, I am that person; the most recent Alikana-marked to be born in the Semani Empire.”

Tamine’s jaws nearly dropped to the floor. He started to tremble, not in fear this time but in veneration. His head knocked against the carpet as he rushed to kowtow to Yuer, “Oh Exalted One, this humble common-born greets your most honorable self.”

“Let us dispense with the formalities. I can make you a Kumatani where you can have unlimited access to the Temple’s records and archives. I’m willing to be your patron. I will fund any worthwhile research you wish to undertake. But, you have to abide by my terms first.”

Tamine rushed to nod, “whatever terms they are, I’m willing to abide by them.”

Yuer leaned further into his chair. “First term, stick close to the Tewekaga. I want you to simultaneously protect and shadow him. You must report back to me every little thing he does, every person he meets and every thought he thinks outloud. Second term, you must avoid all contact with the Reznali, specially the Malhada. You mustn’t forge any ties with him. Third term, any experiment that proves successful must remain a secret. Outside of you and me, no one must be made aware of the fruits of your research.”

Yuer rose. He slowly walked to the still kneeling Tamine and fixed him with a frosty stare, “if you breach any of these terms or think for a moment of betraying my trust, I will make being common-born the least of your regrets in this lifetime. You have to remember one thing; I could always give you a fate worse than death.”

Tamine slammed both of his hands on the floor and vehemently pledged, “Exalted One has given me a chance when no one else would. I will never forget your benevolence. I don’t know what relationship my dead father had with your honorable self but on his behalf, I thank you for sparing myself and not holding a grudge against me for whatever sin he committed.”

Yuer nodded, “Good. Tomorrow I will send you to the Temple with my token and a letter signed by my name. Give them to the Helisari and request an audience with his Holiness. He will arrange things for you. For tonight, you can sleep in the servant quarters. Sakina will provide you with clothing and dinner.”

Sakina dipped her head in acknowledgment and left the inner chamber with Tamine on tow. The latter offered Yuer one last bow before hurrying after the servant.

Shortly after Tamine left, Hasha shuffled into the room. Yuer went to his desk and sat down. He pulled one of the drawers open and brought out a small money pouch. He threw it to the Mesrin, “Well done. You performed your task nicely. That pouch contains ten silver pieces. It’s the first installment of your commission fee. The second will be finalized tomorrow after I book you a boarding ship of your choosing. So what is your desired destination?”

The exhausted and freshly bathed redhead looked at the pouch in her hands, her amber gaze pensive. She candidly replied, “I don’t know yet.” Scratching at her wet hair, she added, “Would it be a bother if I stay here for a bit longer?”

Yuer lifted his head from the letter he had just begun to write to the Tewekaga. He surveyed the weary Mesrin for a moment and then answered, “I’m afraid I won’t be around here for much longer. The harem Selection is the day after tomorrow. Shortly after that day, I will have to relocated to my bonded’s residence.” Yuer paused before suggesting, “However, if you wish to tag along, you are more than welcome. You see, I’m in need of a personal guard and you happen to fit the bill.”

Hasha stopped staring at the pouch and pointedly inquired, “And the collar?”

Yuer smiled, resuming his writing. “No need, Hasha. You are a free person and you will always be one for as long as you work for me. However if you agree, you have to give me back that pouch.”

Hasha muttered under her breath, “stingy bastard.”

Yuer chuckled, “I heard that and no, I’m not being stingy. Those ten silvers would be your pay for the next month. You do remember that I paid one hundred silvers to get you off from that old rat’s hands? By the law of trade and equal profit, you should be the one compensating me with ten months of free labor.”

The redhead sprang to her feet and strode to the desk. She slammed the pouch against the redwood surface and huffed, “Fine, fine. Here you go. Give it back to me in a month’s time.”

She stomped her way to the doors but halted at the last moment. She looked back at Yuer and asked, “By the way, where would your bonded’s residence be?”

Yuer rested his chin on his clasped slender hands and smiled enigmatically at the Mesrin girl, “With the leftover silver I gave you last time, go to the Merchant District tomorrow and buy as many winter cloaks as you can afford. You will be needing them quite soon.”

Hasha’s brows knitted in confusion, “Winter cloaks? But it’s still early fall.” Her amber eyes widened in sudden realization, “Unless you mean…we’re going north?”

Yuer neither denied nor confirmed her assumption. Instead he said, “Go eat something and rest. Tomorrow is going to be another long day.”