It was a bright room, with multiple golden trinkets that whirred and tinkled as though they possessed a mind of their own. A mahogany desk that was the size of most families dining table, sat in front of a roaring fire in a hearth that was 12 feet long carved out of a creamy stone that added a soft flourish to the dramatic black and white marble tile that spanned the entire lower level of the room, that some could guess to be a library.

Along its perimeter were winding steps that lead to another floor that expanded even further past the stone chimney with its rows and rows of books, which eventually melded into shelves containing glass vials, labeled in languages that most people had forgotten.

At the center of the room, seated at the desk with his hands folded in front of him, was a man in his early 30’s. His hair was long enough to touch his ear lobes, and was an inky black shade that gleamed in any small ray of light.

His eyes were the palest of grays, and were nearly as cold as his brilliant white smile. His beautiful lips were curved so masterfully no artist could ever hope to do them justice.

His pale alabaster skin almost glowed in the faint glow of the fire, as he sat waiting.

There wasn’t a sound in the room, other than his small devices and a small golden clock that ticked delicately atop the intricate stone mantel.

The massive 16 foot iron doors banged open, and in strode a woman with identical black hair, and electrifying blue eyes. Her mouth carried the same artful strokes of the man behind the desk, though she used them to pout rather than smile with the cold of a wet winter wind.

She was impressively tall, and as her pale gray chiffon robe fluttered around her, her curvaceous figure was displayed in its silhouette with the lilac colored dress she wore beneath.

“Alexander, what in the world do you mean we have another deviant Servicer? Isn’t it a little late for these jokes?” Her dark eyebrows arched in scorn as she folded her arms across her body, and popped one of her wide hips out.

The man stood slowly, his incredible height only being rivaled by a few humans in the world, and his shoulders broad enough to suit the stature.

“My dear Celestine, I would only joke about such things if I knew you wouldn’t be able to find me.” He slowly strode out from behind the desk, and stared down his nose at his sister.

Celestine rolled her eyes, then preceded to flip a lock of her long flowing back hair over her shoulder.

“What kind of deviance requires my attention at this time of night?”

Alexander walked slowly over to her, and continued to stare down his nose, his lack of emotion in his cold eyes making Celestine glare at him all the harder.

“A want.”

“A want…? A- good Gods did they want to eat the last piece of cake instead of leaving it to their fat master?” She ridiculed lifting her head to stare more directly at her brother, exposing the small beauty mark on her left cheek bone.

“A want for his life.” Alexander saw the fractional widening of his sister’s eyes before she tossed her head, and sauntered over to his desk. She traced its carved edge with her lily white hand.

“What is this want?”

“We don’t know.”

Celestine whirled around, her face had visibly paled, and her brows furrowed.

“How? How do we not know? We always know!” The panic in her voice rose as a small blush began to enter her cheeks.

“We don’t this time. It would appear there is some… surprising interference.” Alexander paused as he meandered casually back towards his mantel, feeling his sister’s exasperated gaze at his back.

“The Minkies have finally interfered.”

“Those barbaric old sods?!” Celestine exclaimed, a rasp entering her voice that barely hid the slight tremor.

“To be quite frank, we knew that it was a matter of time. We are working with the seers to press against their shield, but- ah. You know. They are not quite the same as our normal shields.”

Alexander turned back around, the eyes like steel piercing his sister’s blue ones effortlessly, and making her stumble back a foot.

“You sound confident.” She said trying to regain her composure. “It has been a time since we have seen what they are truly capable of. They could still hold the power we have only heard of!”

Alexander picked up a small glass orb that had rested on a golden platform, and tossed it into the air calmly, and caught its heavy decent.

“I very much doubt that their power is what we have heard. Even if they have the purest bloodline.”

“Beware of arrogance brother, it is when we expose our underbellies to our foes that we spill blood.” Celestine lowered her lashes as her brother continued to pace around the perimeter of his office, as though stalking prey.

“I don’t intend to have an underbelly. They are protecting our Servicer, and I want to know why.” He tossed the orb in the air again, and caught it easily. “Remember how you ruined mother’s favorite tapestry?”

“I yanked on a loose thread and it bunched and knotted?” Celestine offered, refusing to watch her brother circling behind her and tossing the orb in the air.

“Exactly. If you had pulled gently, it would have come apart easily enough, but you panicked at seeing the inconsistency, and yanked.”

Celestine waited. She knew he was building to a point, so she bided her time.

Only he didn’t add anything, instead a gentle knock echoed through the room, and when she turned at last, she saw the iron door open to reveal a petite woman with ebony hair, olive skin, and brown slanted eyes.

Her hair was pinned back low on her head, and she wore a deep forest green dress that was starched and buttoned close to her throat.

“Good evening my Rulers.” The woman dipped an inhumanly smooth curtsy.

Celestine stared at her brother confused, but his eyes were fixed on the small woman they had first obtained when she had been only a child. Despite her being old enough to be their mother, she didn’t look a day over 30- a strange feature of her particular culture of Servicer’s.

“Ida, were you teaching this evening?” Alexander asked coolly, his hands with the orb clasped behind his back, regarding the emotionless woman with feigned disinterest.

“Yes my Ruler. Etiquette.” Ida bowed her head, and kept her eyes lowered to the floor, even though her posture was ramrod straight.

“Ida, Arlen the Servicer that was to go to the future Queen of the North and South Kingdom, he was your eldest offspring, was he not?”

Celestine’s eyes cut to the woman with renewed interest, and began to slowly make sense of her brother’s method.

“Yes my Ruler.” The woman answered calmly without missing a beat, or questioning why she was being asked such a strange question from the Ruler of Servicer’s.

“I see, and would you perhaps know why he might have developed a want of his own? Or why he would have turned to the aid of the Minkies?”

Only a single tick from the golden clock on the mantel place passed before the Servicer answered.

“We teach of the Minkies when discussing anonymous groups in the Kingdoms during our lessons. As for developing a want of his own, I can say I am perturbed to hear that one of my own breed have deviated. Shall I send the order of obliteration of the rest of my offspring?”

Celestine let out an amused tinkling laugh, and she smiled lovingly at her brother.

“I love how tidy Servicer’s are. It is a pity that they are not 100% reliable.” She gushed breathily.

It wasn’t until there was a lack of response that Celestine realized her brother was still staring at the Servicer intently that her cold smile faded.

“Would you be the one to dispatch your children?” Alexander asked her as though he were requesting her to buy him a loaf of bread.

“Is there a particular means you wish me to use?” Came the calm response that would have disturbed any other mother on the planet.

Alexander stared passively at Ida, as though waiting for her mask to slip. As though he knew there wasn’t a possible way she could be so cavalier at the destruction of her own children.

“What kind of student was Arlen?” He asked instead of answering her query, and resuming tossing the orb back into the air and catching it with a loud slap against his palm.

“Earnest. Wanted to prove himself worthy of the honor of being a Servicer. Wanted to serve a Master or Mistress to the best of his ability.” She answered again, without any inflection of emotion.

“I see… strange that he should have become deviated.” Alexander said without any accusing tone.

Another second of silence passed before Celestine had enough.

“For the love of the Gods! Ida, tell us right now what you know about your son. Was there anything odd about him? The Servicer who sired him? Who was the error’s father?” Celestine blustered while ignoring the icy glare her brother cast her.

Ida turned and curtsied to Celestine again before answering.

“The Servicer for the Thief of Souls sired Arlen- Quirinus.” She answered with the same dispassionate tone.

A lengthier silence stretched on between Celestine and Alexander, until Alexander spoke again softly.

“That is how I recalled his parentage as well.”

“W-We let a rogue Servicer mate with one of our breeders?!” Celestine exclaimed her tone a mix of anger and horror.

“The weeks before he left for his first meeting with the Thief of Souls, he was asked to be a breeder for at least one of our future Servicers.” Alexander recanted once again tossing the orb in the air.

“How is it that we didn’t dispatch your son the day Quirinus began slaughtering his fellow Servicers?” Alexander asked a small smile on his lips as though he had broken through the facade of the stony woman in front of him.

“I believe your father deemed it the fault of the Thief of Souls, not of the Servicer as he was acting on his Master’s wishes.” Ida’s airy tone hadn’t faltered for a moment, and yet Alexander still moved closer to her as though he smelt blood.

“He was also acting against one of the few laws we hold you all to; Do not interfere with other Servicers. So why was Quirinus not held to that rule?”

“I do not know my Ruler. I only know that your father at the time deemed our offspring as devoid of deviant effect.”

“Our father would only do that if he truly felt it was outside of the Servicer’s control he-” Celestine froze, and then turned her blatantly frightened face to her brother whose previous expression of triumph had faltered, and instead his gaze met with his sister’s.

“Ida you are dismissed.” Alexander said without breaking eye contact from his sister.

The woman once again curtsied faultlessly, and exited the chamber.

“Father would have only dismissed the matter, if he thought the Servicer was not in control of their selves.” Alexander said slowly, his velvety voice becoming closer to a murmur. “He thought that the Thief of Souls overrode our own bond magicks.”

“That means-” Celestine’s eyes were as wild as an unbroken stallion

“All of our Servicer’s may be compromised if he has returned.”

***

Aggie watched Mek’s wrist closely as he once again demonstrated how she could increase the speed of her dagger throw.

“Your arm doesn’t have to force the power behind the throw when close to your target. Use your wrist.” Mek demonstrated again as the blade blurred through the air, and struck the target again.

Aggie took the blade in her left hand, and gave it an experimental flick, then watched dismayed as it clattered to the ground.

“Angle the blade before throwing.” Tieg grunted from his place by the fire, unable to stop himself from interfering.

Aggie nodded at the hulking man before doing as he instructed, taking her time to align the blade with her target, winding back, and releasing in a blur of steel that ended when her blade struck the softened pine log they had set as their training target.

Tieg grunted in approval, and Mek smiled warmly at her.

“Your Lady can throw, what can you do?” Jed asked Arlen whom had been watching Mek and Aggie like a hawk ever since they had reached the foothills of the mountains and set up their camp for the night.

They had allowed Arlen to carry a lighter load in light of his aching body, and as a result they had made far better time than the previous day.

“I was taught the swords and hand to hand combat.” He muttered as Mek laid his hands on Aggie’s shoulders and forced the down to force them to relax as she threw.

“Let’s see how you fair then.” Tieg rumbled, and finally managed to draw Arlen’s gaze from his Mistress as he stood up. The Queen and Keynan shared a look that didn’t go unnoticed by Arlen.

After finished chewing the gristle of meat he had been given for dinner, Arlen stood as Tieg lumbered over to the lakeside edge, his bulk a looming shadow in the darkness.

The Queen, Jed, Keynan, Nola, and every other Minkies person in the tribe raised their gazes to the Servicer, a strange tension running through them.

Aggie stopped lining up her next throw, and turned to stare at Arlen’s back that, despite crowning 6 feet of height, seemed miniscule when in front of Tieg.

Arlen raised his fists as Tork had taught him, and only just managed to lift his eyes when he was immediately force back as one of Tieg’s fists sought out his ribs.

Tieg gradually increased the speed of his blows, forcing Arlen to dance about, and concern himself more with dodging blows rather than getting the chance to attack.

Arlen began to breath hard as Tieg continued striking at him without exuding much effort.

After several minutes, Tieg suddenly increased his speed exponentially, and one of his massive fists caught Arlen in the shoulder, sending him flying to the ground.

“Hey!” Aggie began to step forward, but Mek grabbed her upper arms from behind and pulled her back into his chest.

“Let him learn. This isn’t real combat.” Mek’s breath tickled her ear, and she squirmed in his grasp uncomfortable at the goosebumps that rose along her neck.

As Arlen righted himself, he fixed his eyes on Tieg whom was coming towards him with the same bored expression he had throughout the entire time. Arlen’s eyes flicked to Aggie for a moment, and immediately saw Mek grasping her arms and whispering in her ear as she wriggled against him.

Arlen wasn’t prepared for the buzzing tingle that ran through him, or for the camp to practically stand still, as he moved back towards Tieg whom was suddenly little more than a statue to him, placing a strong fist in his lower abdomen, and immediately followed it with a sharp jab to the side of his chin, leaving Tieg collapsing to the ground in slow motion.

By the time Tieg’s knees hit the gravel stones beside the clear mountain lake, Arlen was in front of Aggie and Mek, and had reached over Aggie’s head to grasp Mek’s throat firmly.

“Release her.” Arlen’s voice reverberated in the air, and as his eyes bore into Mek’s, he failed to notice the Queen drawing nearer

Mek’s hands opened to let go of Aggie, but a it was slowly compared to the speed of the world Arlen was now in. So the Servicer gave a small extra squeeze, and watched Mek’s eyes bulge, and Aggie’s widened surprised gaze met with his.

He realized she was beginning to fall at being released, and so he let go of his hold on Mek, catching Aggie effortlessly by her elbows, and then waited until she was steady on her feet again. By which time, the world returned to its normal measure of speed.

Aggie’s face was pale as she stared at Arlen, but before she could say a word a long thin blade that was connected to a long bronze carved handle appeared under Arlen’s throat.

“Servicer. There was no need to assault Mek.” The Queen’s firm voice broke through Arlen’s momentary trance at having just returned from being in a world where time didn’t apply to him.

“He wasn’t letting go of Aggie.”

“If the Lady truly needed help, she would have said.” Arlen met the gray eyes of the Queen, and saw in them a look he hadn’t seen in her before; A look of cold calculation.

In his training to be a Servicer, one skill-set he had learned from his mother had been to read the subtle nuances of people’s expressions, as it aided in learning their true feelings and intent- a deadly useful ability in court.

What he saw in the Queen’s eyes was a decision.

She had decided what she would do to him if she deemed him enough of a threat, and Arlen knew he should be far more mindful of a woman whom had positioned herself as a ruler of some of the most magically gifted people in the entire continent before reaching her 30th year.

“My apologies your Majesty.” Arlen gave a short bow, and Aggie continued to stare at him perplexed.

“Arlen, myself and Tieg will be the one to train you from now on. It will do you no good to cheat.”

“I didn’t cheat I-”

“No arguing. I will also train Aggie. I can see that Mek can be a little too distracted.”

“Why?” Aggie blurted out the word, slowly regaining her ability to speak after the shock of witnessing Arlen’s effortless disposal of a man the size of Tieg, and then having him strangle a man behind her.

“Why bother training us? We are your prisoners.”

“Because Lady, there are more dangers in this world than you could possible imagine. If we are attacked, we will not waste unnecessary effort to save you, instead you could be useful. Help us in those times, and we don’t mind training you.”

Aggie furrowed her brow, but nodded. She remembered the Queen saying before that protecting them would be easy, so what had changed?

Something was still not adding up…

“It is time for sleep.” The Queen announced to her group behind her. “I will heal Tieg, so Servicer I recommend you look like you are sleeping before I complete the job, or he will demand a rematch.”

Arlen gave another small bow, and turned to Aggie, except she wouldn’t look at him.

Arlen realized he was still holding on to her arms, and so quickly released her, and immediately pushed his hands into his pockets.

Mek rose from the ground rubbing his neck and glaring at Arlen, but retreated back to the campfire without a word.

Once they were alone, Aggie finally trusted herself to speak.

“What the fuck was that Arlen?” She asked softly, watching the Minkies in their bedtime preparations.

“When a Master or Mistress are distressed, or my adrenaline is peaked, I can move faster than is normally feasible.”

“Do you become someone else when that happens?” She asked calmly, folding her arms across her chest.

“No my La- Aggie.”

“Then what the hell were you doing strangling Mek?” There was a hitch in her voice at the Minkies name, making Arlen’s chest tighten for some reason.

“He wasn’t letting you go, and you were struggling against him.” Arlen pointed out, noting that his voice had risen an octave.

“As the Queen said, if I had truly been in danger, I would have spoken up. The Queen won’t let any harm come to us. Arlen, there is something strange about these people. They are helping us far more… they are treating us well… they even saved your life.” Aggie paused, and though Arlen wanted to comment, something about Aggie’s face stopped him.

She looked as though she were piecing together something important.

“Arlen, I think they know something. Maybe they are actually delivering us to Sean O’Farrell, or the North King.” She reasoned slowly. “It would explain why they aren’t being cruel, or treating us as prisoners.”

“I doubt Sean O’Farrell would want you being trained in fighting.” Arlen pointed out after considering her suggestion.

“Maybe… still. Something feels weird here.” Aggie swept her focus over the Minkies, trying to find oddities, when her gaze fell on Keynan. He was smiling at her, and raised the cup made out of a bull’s tusk that he was drinking from to her in a silent salute.

“You may be right, but we are not in a position to demand answers.” Arlen pointed out, noticing Keynan’s strange behavior.

“When have I ever let my position determine what I demand?”

“Since I’ve known you? Rarely. Though usually it involves my helping you considerably.”

“You are useful on occasion.”

“I’ll have to put that as a credential of mine once you liberate me.”

“I’ll leave out the bit about strangling people.”

“Thank you. If you ever need a reference in the future, I’ll be sure to omit the part about you throwing knives when you dislike someone.”

“No one is perfect.”

“My mother was.”

The volunteered information surprised Aggie. Arlen had never spoke about himself or his history without Aggie asking directly.

“I doubt she was, but I’m glad you two had a great relationship.” Aggie said as she turned and studied Arlen’s small smile.

“We didn’t have a good relationship. She was ashamed of me for not being as talented as she was as a Servicer, but she always protected me on the days of our inspections and gave me extra tutoring late into the nights to ensure I kept up with my classmates.”

“A perfect person wouldn’t have been ashamed of you.” Aggie pointed out delicately, knowing that the mention of family for some people was a sensitive subject.

“A perfect person has emotions like anyone else, but manages them with all the grace and class of a celestial being.”

Aggie let out a low whistle.

“You’ve got some mother issues don’t you?”

“This from the woman who never speaks about her parents.”

Aggie took a step back at the comment. She felt her body tense, and Arlen immediately turned to her, aware of the obvious reaction to his own words.

“I’m sorry, that was not appropriate.” Arlen bowed to her, and didn’t rise as he waited for her dismissal of him.

“No I… My parents… Erm. Well. I guess I never…It’s complicated.” Aggie scratched her neck, and was only mildly surprised to find that she no longer had long hair.

“My Lady, there is no need to apologize, I spoke without thinking and I-”

“No no! It isn’t that, I just… Alright. I’m closer with my father than my mother, which isn’t great. My mother has a love of parties unrivaled by the most fun-loving sailor you can imagine, and my father’s true loves were business, and keeping me on a tight leash so that I could be his best investment. He loves me in his own way, and my mother sees me as the payment she submitted for an easy life with my father. They live in separate houses, and live separate lives, and they both are happy with that. My mother never had a boy for my father, and he hasn’t cared, not wanting to bother with making his wife happy, and deciding that I was the best business challenge yet. A girl who could earn no living.”

Arlen was stunned at the incredibly open summary of her parentage, and so took a respectable amount of time to process the information.

“Do you want that type of relationship for yourself?” He asked slowly, clasping his hands behind his back to try and hide how uncomfortable he felt.

“What do you mean?”

“An independent relationship. One that doesn’t restrict you by being dependent or involved in a partner’s life.”

Aggie paused at the question, and let out a slow breath as though bracing herself for her own answer.

“I think a person shouldn’t bother if they are going to do it that way. It worked out for my parents, but most of the time someone gets hurt if one person wants independence. I don’t think I’m meant for long term monogamy.”

“You don’t want children?”

“I wouldn’t know what to do with them quite frankly. Seeing the Minkies Queen’s children has been the first time I have been within 50 feet of children in years.”

Arlen went quiet at this new information. He could not begin to describe all the ways his Mistress surprised him.

“Aggie.” Arlen turned at her voice. “You called me ‘my Lady’ again. It’s Aggie.”

“Pardon my error my Lady.” Arlen bowed to her, and missed her eye roll.

“One of these days I’ll beat it into you.”

“I look forward to it.” Arlen straightened himself and smiled wolfishly at her as she grunted in annoyance.

It was time for bed, and Arlen found himself looking forward to the next day. There would be hours of walking, but then there would be training, and if he was lucky, another conversation with his Mistress that would give him things to think about for hours.