The chamber smelled of lavender—a new scent, a pleasant one. Like most new things to him, it unsettled him. He wasn't used to comfort, not that he hated it of course.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been in the stone chamber, minutes, hours? Time felt elastic, stretched and warped by the oppressive presence seated across from him. But truthfully, he wasn't that scared. It took a lot to scare him, as long as he wasn't being sent back he had no problem being punished. He was willing to do everything he could in order to never go back there, even if it meant putting other's there in his place.
The walls around him pulsed faintly with greenish light, like veins beneath sickly skin. He could feel the ritual traces humming through the stone, remnants of the Netherroot. It seeped into everything, it made his skin crawl, he didn't like seeing it, he didn't like being reminded of his homeland.
A figure entered, dressed in ceremonial robes reminiscent of the priests of the Church of Mortality. He knelt low, head bowed.
A figure entered, dressed in ceremonial robes reminiscent of the priests of the Church of Mortality. He knelt low, head bowed.
"The second site is prepared."
"Good," said the masked figure seated across from Barrett.
"And the targets?" the priest asked.
"It's been difficult to suppress them so far, but rest assured we have the situation under control. Once the ritual is complete, he will be captured."
"Very well. You may leave."
The priest rose, bowed once more, and departed.
Silence returned, stretching taut between the two figures: one a rebellious youth with clenched fists and no interest in speaking, the other an enigma, still and unreadable.
The masked figure's face was hidden behind carved obsidian, old-world runes etched across its surface. They shimmered faintly each time the figure spoke.
"You ran," the figure said. Calm. Not accusatory. Just... observing.
There was something wrong with the voice. It sounded like two people speaking at once, one whispering, one echoing.
Barrett swallowed hard. "I had no choice. There were two of them. One of them wouldn't go down, no matter what I did. And... one of them was the target. I thought it made more sense to return and report." he offered, a pathetic excuse even to his own ears.
"Ah," the masked figure leaned forward.
"Wait—was I…?" Barrett murmured.
"Yes. You were compromised," the figure replied. "And it seems Cordell got exactly what he needed."
"Shit," Barrett hissed. A sharp sting of realization bloomed in his chest.
'No wonder' he thought realizing his state of mind had been tampered with before coming here, explaining why he ran despite the situation being seemingly in his favor and the feeling of losing his sense of time. In addition, why would he think seeing the target was a significant reason to return to base, those actions we're just stupidity.
"You failed your mission." the voice continued.
"I didn't—!"
"You were asked to follow Cordell and make sure he didn't contact anyone from B-16, as well as find ways to assassinate him, were you not," inquired the voice.
"Yes! I was finally able to get him alone, he walked into a deserted place...and"
Barrett started but didn't finish his sentence, it was obvious. Why would someone who he had been unable to get alone for so many days finally enter a deserted spot for no reason except for an ambush.
"But, I was following him the entire time. There was no way for him to contact anyone, much less plan an ambush, there's just no way,"
"It would seem, my foolish little apprentice. That you still constantly underestimate those around you,"
Biting his tongue he did not refute it, because at this moment it was simply fact. Barrett could not compare to Cordell, after all not only had the other party discovered he was under surveillance he had figured out a way to separate from his team and get Barrett ambushed in such a way that he did not suspect Barrett's involvement but had also seemingly compromised him in this period of time.
Truly frightening! Despite not wielding a spell series suited for combat, the scribe was truly frightening.
"What should I do with you," the faintly overlapping voice came on once again.
"Forget it, I'll deal with you later. Tell the rest to prepare to change locations, burn anything that is not essential, we should leave now,"
Bowing he said nothing in response and quietly left the room.
With the sigh the masked figure stood up from the chair opening the desk in front of him and picked out a copper red-feather. Bending down the figure quickly lit a fire and said a few words to the feather in rapid succession and then threw it into the fire.
Said fire suddenly increased in intensity, and a figure sat just beyond the light of the single suspended flame. She was tall, with Orange hair and amber eyes and excluded a shapely figure, . Her hair was braided and pinned like royalty, a phoenix hairpin keeping it in place.
The masked figure bowed slightly. "We begin the second convergence tomorrow," they said.
"Good," the figure within the flames responded, her voice like
"And... my nephew?" she asked.
Her gaze sharpened. "You said he would be delivered."
"He will be," the figure assured.
She nodded, and her form shimmered. The flame consumed itself in an instant, leaving only a neat pile of ash on the stone floor.
The masked figure stood motionless, watching the ash cool.
—————————————————
PH1RE'S P.O.V.
The room felt too small.
Not physically—Cordell's safehouse had enough space for the four of us. But after that name, the walls felt like they were pressing in. Squeezing the air from my lungs.
Whether this reaction was from me or from the person I was pretending to be I wasn't sure, since I had arrived in this world it felt similar to a blank slate with most of the people familiar with the original owner either not dead or not present but at this moment it felt like being confronted in a way.
And even worse it was hard to understand why, for what reason.
Lilah Herrett.
Under regular circumstances I should be calling her aunty, and cozying up to her. Afterall she was the last familial tie to the life that belonged to the original owner of this body.
Where was she the enitire time, wasn't she meant to be dead.
Mr. Thorne had been searching for her the better part of a year even halting his law practice, what's more she was no stranger to the Red Ravens and could come over anytime.
So, why!
"What do you mean Lilah Herrett is funding the bounty?" I asked, voice low.
Cordell, still pale from his mental dive, didn't immediately answer. Ethan handed him a cloth to wipe the sweat off his face. He did so absently, his eyes never leaving mine.
"She's alive," he said simply. "And not just alive, active. Wealthy, at least wealthy enough to drop ten thousand gold coins for your bounty,"
Maya gave me a quick glance but didn't say anything.
"Why now?" I asked, stepping closer. "She never came looking. Never sent anyone after me. Why is she suddenly throwing gold at my head?"
Cordell finally sat back, wincing. "I don't know, what I do know is that she needs you alive,"
"Wait a minute," Maya interrupted. "How do you know about Loid's aunt?"
"I told him," Ethan cut in.
Maya turned sharply, ready to scold but Ethan spoke quickly.
"It sounded urgent. You've been trying to find her for over a year, right? I figured there was no harm in getting the best investigator I knew on the case."
Maya didn't look convinced. She bit her lip, visibly weighing the logic. She didn't argue further but tension crackled between them like static.
It made sense logically, he was simply informing someone that could be a great help and who possessed far greater resources when it came to these kind of things, but it was still uneasy knowing he trusted Cordell enough to spill things like that.
"Did you find anything since then?" I asked, folding my arms.
Cordell nodded, grim. "Nothing"
"I thought you said you found something," I said in confusion.
"Sometimes, finding nothing is information." He grabbed a coat draped over a nearby chair. "As far as I know, Lilah Herrett disappeared without a trace after being released from Purge Isle on 3/8/15."
"She was imprisoned?" PH1RE said, shocked.
"Yes. Guarded information, but she served a short sentence for violating orders on a botched quest. Since then—nothing. No records, no sightings. She went to great lengths to vanish."
"And now she's funding a bounty on her own nephew and tied to a ritual from an enemy nation. Remarkable."
Cordell moved to the window and opened it.
Outside, flames rose in the distance.
"Where are you going?" Ethan asked.
"To the scene of the crime, well. Former scene of the crime," he said opening the windows.
We all followed his gaze.
Smoke curled in the sky. Fire roared.
"Looks like they've responded," sighed Cordell.
While the rest of us simply looked into the distance, one simple fact dawning on us.
"That's… that's the mayor's office,"