Book 3 Chapter 8

“Wha…?” Tirr started, but Torvus had already turned, opening and moving through the doorway in an instant. Maria and Tirr shared a confused look, before following slowly after him.

As they entered the room, they found a well-decorated office space, with hand-carved furniture, beautiful rugs, and tastefully chosen art pieces lining the walls. The entire room seemed to scream wealth and prestige, enough to rival even the halls of the Water Temple.

And there, at the center of the room, was Torvus. Standing with his arms crossed and a stern look on his face as he glared across the only desk in the room. An older looking man sat there, with a rugged beard and set jawline, peering over documents on the table with a magnifying glass.

As they reached Torvus’s side the old man set the document aside… Yet to Tirr’s surprise, he picked up and started on the next, not sparing a glance at the trio who had just entered.

Tirr frowned, unhappy with the disrespect, but seeing Torvus continue to stand there quietly he held his tongue, giving the old man an impatient look as he waited.

Finally, after what must have been ten minutes, the old man set down his papers lifting his tired-looking eyes to the group in front of him. “Well? Did you come here for something or are just here to stare at an old man?”

Tirr’s jaw clenched at the words, “You...” But, before he could continue Torvus waved a hand at him, indicating that he would handle it.

“Just trying to decide if today is the day I cut your throat, old man…” The words fell like ice into the room, and even Tirr felt a chill in his back at the hatred in them.

“Haha! If you had the balls for something like that, I’d be nothing but a skeleton by now. No… You would even give me that dignity, would you?”

“I’d rather there wasn’t even a trace of you left…” Torvus replied, “And well… Things change old man.” There was a flash of light and Torvus’s dagger appeared in his hand, delicately twirling around his fingers.

“Oh, you think now that you have some other backer you’re a big man now huh?” He stood coming around to the front of the desk to face Torvus directly “Then do it!” He yelled, “You pathetic child!”

“You asked for it, old man!” Torvus cried as he suddenly charged, dagger flashing viciously.

Just a bit behind him Maria and Tirr stood dumbfounded at the sudden scene, unable to understand what was happening up until Torvus reach his target.

Tirr felt his brain click as he realized what Torvus was doing... “Wait!” Tirr yelled, but he was too late. Torvus had shoved the blade forward, only stopping once his hands pressed against the old man's gut.

The old man let out a gasp, his face growing pale as he leaned back against the desk. Torvus stood with his hands still pressed against him, his breath heavy as they looked into each other's eyes.

“What are you doing?” Tirr roared springing forward to drag Torvus back and away from the old man. “Maria take care of him!”

Maria rushed towards the old man while Tirr continued to pull the still struggling Torvus back. “What is this?” Tirr questioned, “Why’d we come all this way just for you to freak out and kill the person you said would help us?”

Torvus didn’t respond as Tir berated him. Tirr stopped, noticing the way the former assassin’s shoulders shook as he hid his face.

“Are you…” He started when he was interrupted by a confused Maria, “Uh, Tirr?”

He looked back at Maria, who stood by the old man, looking confused at his unmarked shirt. A smile was on the old man’s face… Tirr turned back to Torvus, who could no longer hold himself back. With a huge grin, he revealed his dagger, tucked behind his arm, its blade spotless. Tirr looked down at it blankly before looking back up at Torvus just in time to see him burst into laughter.

Tirr’s frown deepened as Torvus continued to laugh, literally bent over from the force f his joy. The old man was the same, holding his sides as he roared as well, laughing so hard that the confused Maria simply backed away.

They split into two groups as Tirr and Maria backed up together and the still laughing Torvus went back to the old man’s side, slapping a hand on his back, “Oh that was a good one!” Torvus cried between tears, “You’ve really gotten good at that whole faking death thing.”

“Not as good as you apparently…” The old man replied, “Did you see the little one pull you back all worried? Haha! I thought he was going to hit you…”

“I still might,” Tirr interrupted testily… Garm followed up with a vicious growl as the fur on his back on end in reply to Tirr’s anger. The sight made the old man gulp.

“What is going on?” Tirr questioned looking back and forth between the two perpetrators.

“Calm down boss, it’s just an old joke me and the old man here have done for ages. Sorry if it shook you up…”

The old man nodded, “the lad and I have pulled that joke on literally everyone he’s ever brought to this office. Wouldn’t feel like a real meeting if we didn’t give you the full treatment…”

“Anyways Boss…” Torvus tried to change the subject, seeing that Tirr’s expression remained unconvinced, with fury still hiding just beneath the surface. “This old man here is Jorn Raife. As I said, he used to be a big part of the council a few years ago. Now he’s one of the few people in this city that can oppose them and help us get into contact with the others.”

Raife nodded, “Torvus told me a bit about the situation so I’m glad to help, take a seat and we can get to it.” The old man motioned towards the char in front of his desk but seeing Tirr and Maria remain motionless, looked awkwardly towards Torvus.

“Ah, come on boss…” Torvus started, “Don’t take it so ser…”

“Why would something like this even start?” Tirr asked exasperated…

“Well,” Torvus and the old man shared a look, the mirth once more gone... “I guess as a kind of reminder that one day it won’t be a joke…”