“We don't meet anyone by chance.”

- Avijeet Das

(Hesca Veneli POV)

"A name?"

My fork stops in the air, just mere centimeters away from my mouth. I am staring wide-eyed at "Emkäouane", or whatever her name is. Still haven't gotten it down. Right now we are downstairs in the inn we are staying at. I was enjoying a pretty decent dinner when she asked me this ridiculous question. A name? For the repulsing contraption she brought back? Why in the Goddess' name is she asking me?

I put the fork back down in my plate in a slow and deliberate manner, making sure that the piece of meat on it doesn't dribble down juice on the table, or my clothes. I know better than to answer right away. Especially since I am pretty sure that the names coming to mind right now aren't really what she is expecting. If it was up to me, we wouldn't even have picked up the damn thing, let alone name it. It is not like my opinion on the matter would have been taken into account anyway.

Let's start at the beginning, shall we. If there is one thing that I learned, is that she never does something without a reason. What matters is to find it.

"Why do you want to name it?"

Why does the bug does even need a name? Can't she already communicate with it? It isn't like having a name will change anything. Hell, why can't she choose one herself?

She just shrugs her shoulders in a non-committal gesture. I cannot see under her hood, but I am pretty sure she stopped looking at me and is now giving the room a calm and non-hurried glance. She must have that mildly bored expression with a pensive frown. She always does it when she is thinking about an answer.

"Well it seemed appropriate. It does have a sound sensor, "ears", if you would. Its designation is hardly appropriate as a call sign."

She accompanies the ears part of her sentence with a quotation mark movement of her fingers. She continues.

"And besides, if we are ever separated, it could accompany you. In case that happens, you would need to command it. Thus the need for a name. Getting it to respond to simple voice commands would be easy enough."

I am a bit flabbergasted.

"You would leave it in my care? Isn't it something important?"

She waves in the air with one of her hands, as if to dismiss my concerns.

"It is important. But for the moment you are proving trustworthy enough." She takes on a serious tone. "And besides, the little one survived for a good number of years alone in that junkyard, and you saw the state we found it in. I would actually be more worried about you than it, if I had to be concerned."

I am mildly offended by that comment.

"Geez, thanks for the vote of confidence. Do you really think I can't take care of myself?"

She shift ever-so slightly, locking her gaze back on me. I can tell. I can't help but shiver.

"I am not putting in doubt your capacity for self-sustenance and general survival. But let remind you what kind of people are after me. Something you have experienced first-hand I believe, unless the hard week of recovery was a cleverly crafted deception on your part. And now that they saw you with me, surely after you too. If nothing else, the church has proven to have an incredibly fast response time following any information they gleaned about my location. There is no doubt in my mind that you are now on the same watch-list as I do, even if at maybe less of a priority. Having a supplementary resource at your disposal in case I am not here to provide assistance seems like a good option to have."

I wince. I cannot help to agree with her words, and the current reality of my situation.

I stir my now cold meal absent-mindedly. I have lost my appetite.

"A name huh…"

"Quite so. Humans are talented in giving names to pet-like entities. Which brings me to why I am asking your advice on the matter. My kin are more, let's say, "pragmatic" when it comes to naming things. It reflect more a function or model identifier than an actual moniker to call something by daily. Take for example the clockwork that was in the employ of Via Redclaw, our transporter."

I raise an eyebrow questioningly.

"What about it? Groundy is a fine name no?"

"Yes it is. But it is a name given by Via herself. His real designation was GR3-DF127. Do you see my point?"

"Yeah… But come on you can't expe-"

I am interrupted by loud cheers coming from a nearby table. I turn on my chair to try to see the cause of the commotion. A nearby gathering of what looks like adventurers are drinking heavily while apparently celebrating something. A loud demon in desert traveling clothes is lifting his mug high in the air while speaking.

"I was there! I swear I saw him look at the drilko in the eyes like "You're goanna die today, beast!", and just threw himself at it like a possessed! Never mind that he was a twig, this guy was born in the wrong nation! Would have made a fine demon!"

A demon praising an elf? Goddess be damned, hadn't I seen it, I wouldn't have believed it. And what did he say the elf was doing? Facing a drilko? Those humongous beasts that we saw on way over? Is that elf even sane? I turn back to Emkäouane, planning to resume my sentence.

"Where was I? Ah yes: You can't expect me to have a name ready like this. I never even had a pet in my whole life. Farm animals don't count."

She looks distracted. She is focusing on the demon too, who is still making a lot of noise behind us. Great. Now she isn't even listening. I wave my hand in front of her face.

"Hey? Are you still with me?"

She refocuses on me.

"Yes. Sorry about that. Something caught my attention for a moment. To come back to the matter at hand, I don't need you to give me a name "right now". You can take a day or two to think about it. But the sooner the better. I will need a bit of time to set you up as a commanding entity for the drone."

I nod.

"I suppose I can deal with that."

I finish my meal in silence, trying to tolerate the commotion behind us that has evolved in a full-blown celebration. One with alcohol, laughter, shouts, and a lot of disorderly conduct. The demon has apparently given himself the task of recreating the encounter for the growing audience, a comrade of his playing the beast. Not very successfully if I might add. But given the rising level of intoxication of said audience, and of the actors themselves, I doubt they are even noticing it.

I signal the passing waitress to take my empty plate away, and pay the bill.

I wince as I open the pouch. With the price we paid for the travel, and the week of stay at this inn, we are severely attacking our funds. Unless she finds another way to make money, we are going to have problems. Well… I am going to have problems: I doubt she needs anything. She could have probably stayed in the junkyard for the whole week night and day if I hadn't talked aloud about my need to sleep. And to eat. Let's not forget eating.

I steal a glance up her way. She is looking at the demon and the growing band of inebriated spectators with a bemused expression. I have come to understand that social interactions are a bit of a weakness for her. But then again maybe not : her bluntness is refreshing if nothing else. I kind of like how she just throws everything at you in an upfront manner, damn the feelings of anyone that might be involved. Not that I don't believe her capable of finesse or deception.

It's just that I stopped caring for it. It really is as she said : right now she is my lifeline. The moment I leave her, or she leaves me, death will come.

Comforting thought.

But we have other pressing concerns. I call out to her.

"Hey. We have a problem."

She gaze back at me, making a gesture of her hand for me to carry on. I take the slim pouch and put it on the table.

"We are starting to run out of money. We are going to have to get some more soon. Unless you want to start living in the wilderness by yourself."

She leans forward on the table.

"I am aware. It is actually quite a pressing matter. There are still things I need to do in this city, and staying dissimulated in the masses as we are is necessary, if a bit expensive on the long run." She pauses for a while. "I was hoping you could provide some insight. After all you were an adventurer are you not? Isn't there a branch of the guild here? You could find some work to keep our financial situation afloat easily."

I wince.

"It isn't that simple. First of all I would need equipment, and information. You don't go on a subjugation quest, or an escort mission without doing research and preparation. That's the fastest way to end up dead. Then there is also the fact that compared to the cold north where I come from, this is as far as possible to what I am comfortable and knowledgeable about. I have no idea who the big players are, or what the surrounding beasts are like, save for the Drilko which we saw on our way over. And if that monster is of any indication, then that means the rest may very well be way above my skill."

She isn't deterred in the least.

"I could come with you. The rest of what I have to do here in Delta requires a bit more discretion than usual. I will probably be doing that alone at night while you sleep. I could accompany you during the day to help you on those requests."

I nearly shout but contain myself at the last second. I lower my tone to a whisper.

"Are you crazy? You, an adventurer?"

She looks at me as if I am an idiot.

"I never said I would become and adventurer. Just that I would help you. You take the request, we meet up outside, we do the request, you go turn it back in."

It is my turn to look at her like she is an idiot. But then I remember that she can be quite clueless about the workings of the world sometimes. I explain it to her.

"That's not possible. As an adventurer, you have a legal relationship with the guild. Meaning that if a fuck-up happens, since you are part of the guild, responsibility for said fuck-up is handled by the organization. If somebody exterior was to help, and then fuck-up, then it would be a nightmare, so it's forbidden. Apparently this happened a lot during the inception of adventurers as a whole. Teams who couldn't really handle a certain level of requests would hire help to clear stuff above their overall ability. This led to a lot of problems when mistakes happened. Since then, it is strictly forbidden for a non-registered person to help an adventurer on a request except under very specific circumstances. Doing so is illegal and can lead to prison time, heavy fines, enslavement, as well as life banishment from the guild. All adventurers are regularly checked to make sure they don't receive outside help, and to enforce the rule. So, as much as it would nice to have you help out, it's a big no-no."

I take a sip of my drink, then continue.

"Plus, since I would have to register again as a new adventurer, probably under a new name too, I would be under big scrutiny from the guild. There are new adventurers every year who think themselves smarter than the system and that still try shit like this to this day. The new ones are the ones checked most. So it kind of goes against your whole "cloak and dagger thing" you have going on."

She seems a bit dejected at the end of my long explanation. I try to salvage the situation.

"I mean, think about it; it's kind of logical. Besides the obvious responsibility in case of a mistake, there is also the fact that adventurer's ranks reflect a certain level of ability, which corresponds to a certain level of requests. The whole system would be undermined if people were able to complete requests which are above their own ability. Their ranks would stop reflecting their actual level. It becomes a disaster waiting to happen. It also doesn't really inspire trust in the guild's services if they can't guaranty to their clients that the people they will put on the task are up to it."

"I understand, don't worry… It's just that it seemed like the easiest solution."

I nod to that.

"Yeah I know what you mean. I have seen you fight so trust me when I said I would really like having you help for the requests, but you really can't unless you become an adventurer yourself. For that you would need to register, probably as my… "possession", and that means to take off the hood. Which I guess you don't really want to."

"No. Not really."

We both stop talking, mulling our thoughts on the matter, and trying to come up with a solution. Next to us, the demon has now started his third encore on the performance, each time a little more drunk. Considering his public is in the same state as him, I don't think they see that as a problem. A miracle he's still standing, really.

She is the one to first break the relative silence.

"How much time before our funds runs out completely?"

I take a look inside the pouch.

"Not much. At the rate we are using money, I'd guess one week? Maybe two if we are really careful."

Even under her hood, I can read the annoyance on her face. My guess is that this was a problem she didn't want to deal with, or didn't plan for. Having no immediate solution to the problem, I just turned my attention back on the partying drunkards in the inn. Some of them have started to just pass out in their chairs, if not directly on the floor. The rest of them, those still awake, are singing horribly off-key.

Thankfully Emkäouane decided that it was time for us to retreat to our quarters for the night. Glad to escape the noise, I followed her up the stairs as quick as I could.

As soon as the door of our room closes, I start undressing and preparing for the night. However, she does not. I shot her a questioning look. She notices it fairly quickly.

"I'm going out tonight. Something I have to check."

I raise an eyebrow.

"Trouble? Or is that related to what you need to do here?"

She pauses, looking through the window. A few rays from the moons penetrate the darkness of her hood, reflecting on her dark and smooth metallic face.

"Not sure. Just something I need to confirm. Should be fine. I'll leave the drone with you. It should not disturb you."

I give a strange look at the small spider as it jumps out of Emkäouane's clothes and starts skittering underneath one of the chairs. It stops once it finds a comfortable spot and just stares at me with its big black eyes.

I feel a cold sweat forming on my back.

Dear Goddess… Why did it have to be a spider?

(XSS-MK1 POV)

I walk slowly through the dimly lit streets. At this time of the night, most of the busy streets are now empty. I try to stick to the shadows as much as possible as I make my way through its bastardized bowels and alleys.

Since my conversation with Hesca at the inn, I have new subjects of consideration to take into account. The financial one is a problem. One that needs to be dealt with quickly. Hopefully a solution will present itself.

But right now the most pressing concern is what I witnessed at the inn tonight. Namely: the demon and his tale of the elf. This apparently VERY combat capable elf moving to Delta. Because there is one thing that I noticed when I arrived here; there isn't any elf in this city. Humans and demons are plenty, but not. a. single. elf.

I don't know if that is due to the climate, or other political reasons, but considering that even in the few humans towns I passed through I saw some elves, the fact that this is human empire territory should not be a factor. I lean towards the climate as the reason. A low tolerance to extreme temperatures seems like a very logical reason for no elf to be in the clockwork desert. That and the general isolationist way of life of the elves.

Which makes the presence of the elf stick out even more. I am not naive enough to believe that, merely one week after I arrive in this town, it is a coincidence that an elf shows up. In a town where there is no elf. Even if it may been exaggerated by the wild tale of the demon, the fact that this individual seem to have combat training makes it even more dangerous. It is either a spy, a scout, or an envoy. The probability that he is anything other than that is close to null.

Whatever he is, he needs to be dealt with, and quickly. And if he poses any kind of threat, he needs to be eliminated. Administrator knows that I already have enough to deal with, without having to add the elves on top of all the rest.

I heard from the demon's tale that he was wounded. Which is good; whoever he is, he is vulnerable. Right now I am moving slowly toward the adventuring district, where some of the medical facilities are. With a bit of luck, he is still there.

I stop in my track as I hear noise in front of me. I dash to a side street immediately as I hear the sound of metal boots getting closer. I push a bit deeper in the darkness of the alley as the patrol comes near. I stay immobile as I see the light of their torches briefly illuminate my hiding place.

I relax again as they pass without stopping, continuing along the main street. Once I am sure they are far enough, I resume my journey. I would prefer to avoid any meeting with the local policing force if I can help it.

After a few other encounters with patrols, and the ensuing short games of hiding from them, I finally arrive where the medical wards are located. I blend into the shadows of a nearby alley, casing the building. As a big rectangular building in the middle of the architectural pattern of the town, it has a lot of vulnerable entry points. A switch to my different visions modes identifies the positions of the guards and their patrol patterns.

Truth be told, I expected it to be more defended than this. But since the only thing in here are wounded, it must not hold significant value. Still, I prefer to be cautious and move to the rooftops, where it is easier to infiltrate the building.

I wait in the shadow of a nearby roof cloth hanger for the two guards up top to be distracted. In the meantime I calculate the pathway I'll need to take to enter.

Suddenly a commotion down the street grabs the attention of the guards. I don't even bother stopping to check what it is and start running. The rooftop under my feet comes to an end and I jump over the street below. After a few seconds of air time, I land on the wall of the building itself, holding myself up by one of the few outcropping of the vertical face.

I freeze and push my sensors to their maximum to make sure the guards haven't heard my landing. As much as I want to be silent, it's hard to make 170+ kilograms of metal land smoothly on a stone wall without a sound. Even more so after a seven meter jump.

I turn my head slightly to see what the commotion is about. I can see in the far distance some brawling drunks being apprehended by the nearby patrols. Considering how the situation is quickly being resolved, I have to hurry. The distraction it is providing me will not last. And it will take only one of the guards to look up to catch sight of me. Even if I am on the face of the building not illuminated by the two moons overhead, they are not blind and the small ambient light of the torches down in the street will be enough to reveal my position.

I start moving slowly towards one of the higher windows that has its wood shutters open. A few times, due to a lack of holds on the wall, I have to throw myself from one point to another, hoping my quick calculations about the structural integrity of the stone I am clinging to are enough, and that the stone doesn't break under my weight.

I switch to active sonic sensors once I am close to the open window, emitting pulses of inaudible sounds in order to build a 360° sonar view around me, and actually peer inside the building. While thermals and night vision were useful outside, they don't allow me to see through the thick stone and mortar walls.

The window gives into an unlit corridor. I climb inside the building, just as the guards start returning to their original posts. I stay immobile crouched in the corridor, while I allow my sonar to map my surroundings. The rooms next to me are clear and look like to be empty bedrooms. I will have to get closer to the rest to be able for my sonar to map them. Sounds cannot propagate all the way, especially through the closed doors.

I start slowly exploring the building, letting my sonar tell me what is in the rooms ahead of me beforehand. I only cross one guard and evade him easily, having "seen" him already while he was still two rooms over. I continue to map the building, in case I would need to come back, or to devise a quick escape.

Finally, my sensors returns to me the information I was looking for. On the other side of door I am standing near is a large room with a lot of beds. A few of them are occupied, and from the sounds of it, their occupants are sleeping soundly. The smell of blood is also stronger, confirming that I am where I need to be.

I open the door slowly, wincing internally when the hinges starts creaking. I step in quickly, and close the door behind me carefully, making sure I don't elicit another noise from the rusted parts.

I start going bed to bed, identifying the sleepers as quick as I can while still making sure not to wake them. After a while, I finally find who I am looking for. The elongated ears I see poking next to the pillow are unmistakable.

I get closer, wanting to get a look at the face of the man. Before I even see his visage, I can see the bandages covering at least half his body. He also has two wooden splints; one on his left arm and one on his right leg. That's got to hurt.

As I make my way closer to him, I can see him start to whimper in his sleep and turn around.

Fuck, the sonar! I stop emitting the pulses of sound immediately. Relief washes over me when I see him calming down and fall back into a deep sleep. I will need to change the way my active sound sensors are calibrated if elves can ear ultrasound. In hindshight, the elongated ears should have clued me in.

I finally get a good look at his resting face.

Well, well, well….

Imagine that.