Vaskir excused himself from Vivian’s fine graces and walked briskly down the corridor. He reached the stairs and stopped; he was out of her line of sight. He gripped the handle and let the tension flow out of his body. He had never met a woman like that before. He had encountered dangerous female Ascendants, even a few brazen mercenaries, but not someone like her. Vaskir chuckled, happy just to be out of the situation. He took a deep breath and settled his spirit, moving his hands in a ritualistic motion, pushing the air down towards his stomach. The usual calm returned.

Returning to the large reception hall, the woman who had checked his card beckoned him over.

‘Hello, Vaskir,’ she said, smiling brightly. ‘I hope your meeting with mistress Vivian was productive.’ Vaskir guessed that everything he said to her would be promptly reported back to Vivian, still, he couldn’t help himself.

‘Yes, terrifying woman, I’m sure we agree,’ Vaskir said.

‘We do,’ the young employee answered smoothly. ‘And I’m sure she would see that as a sterling compliment. Now, onto business matters. I assume that you Ascended under the guidance of a 12th level manual, received from your captain?’ Vaskir had Ascended under the guidance of a young woman named Covens, after receiving a suicidal mission to kill a Duskstalker.

‘Yes.’

‘Excellent! We here at the Consortium offer an upgrade from 12th to 11th grade, as long as one of our officials watches the bonding ceremony,’ she said. Vaskir raised an eyebrow.

‘Would this official look at my stat page after the bond is complete?’ Vaskir asked, already knowing the answer.

‘To make sure that the bond has gone smoothly they would examine your stat page. But the information would remain private here at the Consortium,’ she said sweetly.

‘And you wouldn’t dare sell it to the first bidder, if I, say, became a thorn in a clan’s side. Right?’ Vaskir said, The young woman’s smile did not waver. Vaskir grunted, shaking his head. He wondered how many Ascendants chose to take them up on that offer, not a small amount, he was sure, considering how difficult it was to earn even a 12th-grade manual. Jumping up another grade, all for what some would consider small information… Vaskir was suddenly worried that he may have shown Covens too much.

‘You are now a holder of a private card, which means all of the Consortium’s resources are available for your purchase,’ she said. Vaskir had Q1300 to his name, more than he’d ever owned in his life by quite a margin. He was planning on buying a better sword, something that could withstand the punishment of Ascendant strikes. And yet, Q1300 was a big step towards his goal of opening a weapons shop. After selling the manual, he would have more than enough money to open it and fill it with worthwhile products, maybe he could even bid on a few finer blades to establish his reputation. He would have money left over… but that was future money, he did not own it yet, could not touch it, spend it. It was best to remain frugal, Q1300 may be all he would have for a long time. The young woman seemed to pick up on his hesitancy. ‘Perhaps I can show you the outer vault, I’m sure something will catch your eye if I do. Besides,’ she leaned in as if sharing a secret, ‘it’s worth the sight alone.’

‘Tempting,’ Vaskir said, not a man to go against his decisions once he’d made them. But he did want to see if they had any rare blades. He wouldn’t forgive himself if he missed out on seeing a Parradin blade or a rare weapon from one of the clans. ‘Alright,’ he relented. ‘Let’s see a piece of the famous Consortium hoard.’

She took him into a side room, worrying Vaskir a little until she started pushing a couch. Vaskir helped, earning a grateful smile. They revealed a small hatch underneath the furniture. She crouched down and pricked her thumb on a small pin poking out of the hatch.

‘Why does everything in this place require blood to open or use?’ Vaskir thought. She swung the hatch open and climbed down, Vaskir followed. After climbing down the ladder Vaskir turned and was met with a sight that would cause him to break out into random grins for the next week. Three hanging lanterns lit the room. They burned a sharp orange, leaving after-images in Vaskir’s vision. Underneath them lay choice artifacts. On the walls were perfectly catered for and polished weapons. Vaskir walked to the closest weapon, pointed at it, then turned to look at the young woman.

‘That’s a Rakshish scimitar,’ Vaskir said. ‘They treat their weapons like gods,’ he looked at it again, making doubly sure he was correct. ‘If they knew you had this on display in your, you said, outer vault, they would cross the desert to burn this place to the ground.’

‘We are well aware,’ she said. ‘Mistress Vivian considers it a worthwhile risk for the respect it brings.’

‘There’s nothing to respect about a suicidal display,’ Vaskir said, yet still turned to appreciate the weapon again, missing the cold look that passed over the woman’s face at his comment. ‘I don’t even recognise a third of what’s in here. I imagine these are the centerpieces?’ he pointed to the six pillars directly underneath the lanterns.

‘Yes. A 5th-grade manual, a Gentle dagger, a small enchanted toy in the shape of a duck, 2 enchanted longswords, and a trauma pill,’ she said. Vaskir walked over to the trauma pill.

‘And how much is the trauma pill?’ he asked.

‘Around Q30.000,’ she answered. ‘Although the price changes based on the purity.’

The young woman had been studying Vaskir carefully ever since he arrived at the Consortium. She enjoyed reading people, learning about them, deducing facts and opinions, putting them into play through conversation and seeing what effects they have. Vivian desired a very particular skillset from all her employees. Vaskir, originally, reminded her of a young lord, out on a spiritual journey; only to return when he had matured or broken through into the second tier. Speaking with him was an enjoyable experience for her because he slowly revealed more about himself than he thought. Giving her a picture of the inner man. She had manipulated him into seeing the vault. Not to tempt him into buying something, she doubted he had the money, but to continue conversing. To learn more. She watched as his expression became controlled. He stared at the trauma pill. She shifted uncomfortably, suddenly reminded that he was a mercenary of 8 years. A killer. He looked at her, and she felt the same fear shoot through her whenever she spoke with Vivian.

‘And what are said properties of this pill?’ he asked. Vaskir’s mind was racing with terrible possibilities. Covens was at best a fool, and at worst—a traitor.

‘They are a common product for most tier 2 Ascendants,’ the young woman said. Vaskir could tell that she was now slightly unsettled. ‘If used quickly on a dead Ascendant, it would fill their body with breakthrough Chi, healing them almost instantaneously.

‘How recent?’ Vaskir asked.

‘Excuse me?’

‘How recently must the Ascendant have died?’ Vaskir said. ‘And can it work on mortals?’

‘For the pill to be effective, no longer than 1 minute can pass before the effects are wasted. And for mortals… why would you waste a pill this powerful on a mortal?’ she said. Vaskir nodded, no longer interested in the treasures around him. Covens had said that a scout found them and brought them to her; far longer than 1 minute would have passed before Covens could administer the pill to Vaskir if that was truly the case. That meant she was there. That she saw the fight. Something had been nagging at Vaskir about Covens’ story and only now did it dawn on him. If a scout had found Vaskir and Pravin, he would have found Bowood’s body as well. He would have reported that to Monver and their entire plan would have fallen through. Covens was hiding something far larger than he originally suspected. She wasn’t doing this for the money. She couldn’t be.

‘I need to leave.’

The ship that would take them across The Long Blue was called The Red Dot. It was a private trading vessel under the employ of clan Roland. Vaskir shook his head.

‘We asked for a fast ship,’ Vaskir said. ‘Not a riverboat laden with goods.’ Pravin patted him on the back.

‘It’ll be faster than a Consortium barge,’ Pravin said. Covens slapped both Pravin and Cradow on the back, pushing them towards the boat.

‘Alright, get on and tell the captain to start… unweighing anchor or whatever the fuck they need to do to get the bitch moving,’ Covens said. Pravin and Cradow moved onto the boat, Cradow still fiddling with the silver mushroom sack he had bought off Liolil. ‘You register?’ Covens asked once they were in private. Vaskir nodded. ‘Good, good. Once this whole manual fiasco is behind us, you’ll want to activate a blood document in some big city then fuck off to the other end of the world. It should give you a head start against the Consortium, some breathing room for whatever you’ll want to do with your share of the money.’

‘A weapon store,’ Vaskir said. ‘I want to open a weapon store. What will you do with the money?’ Vaskir asked, glad to have stumbled onto a natural way of interrogating her.

‘I’m gonna buy a harem of pretty boys and keep them all well fed and watered in a big mansion,’ she joked. Vaskir chuckled. He looked out over the ocean and felt glad to be returning to his land. Doro was a strange place and the thought of going back to Varam ignited a spark in Vaskir’s chest, although quickly quashed with the thought of Covens. ‘You know, I think I’m going to miss this place.’

‘You’re going to miss blood-sucking ants and flying poison-pill bugs?’ Vaskir asked, slightly taken aback.

‘I’m going to miss how unexplored this place is. The vast wilderness; we were probably the first people to walk through that stretch of jungle in 300 years. New breeds of Duskstalkers and Yellowtails have already been recorded. The secrets this island holds. Think how much this place has to offer, the fortunes that are going to be made out here,’ she said.

‘The godforsaken number of corpses, piled high at the doorsteps of newfound ruins—orders delivered by people like you to unimportant chaff like me. This place is going to be explored on the backs of sellswords and penniless fools. There is no fortune here for those already unfortunate,’ Vaskir said. A stiff silence enveloped them.

‘In a strange mood, Vaskir?’ Covens asked carefully. Vaskir looked at her, expressionless, then walked to the edge of the dock and jumped onto the deck of the ship. Covens watched him, processing the encounter. What she took from his words Vaskir could not say. He walked over to Cradow who was in conversation with what he guessed was the ship captain. He had that brazen, grimy, alleyway mugger look that Vaskir associated with people who captained ships for a living. He nodded as he joined the conversation.

‘Captain,’ Vaskir said respectfully.

‘The so-called Ascendants,’ the man said. He had a smooth tone and deep eyes, examining Vaskir. ‘I’m captain Patrick Roland, you may call me Captain or Roland. Don’t start anything with my crew and keep your peace. If my crew starts anything with you, you report it to me. If the situation escalates into a brawl, and you’re found to be in the wrong, you will be thrown overboard, may the depth protect.’ Vaskir nodded. Captain Roland drew a dagger and a small piece of paper from his waist. ‘bleed on this,’ he said, handing both to Vaskir. Vaskir did as he was told and his new Ascendant seal briefly flickered onto the page. The Captain nodded respectfully at Vaskir. ‘Master Ascendant, welcome aboard The Red Dot.’

‘Vaskir, please,’ he said, nodding back. Cradow went next, cutting open his palm instead of his finger. He bled on the paper, the deck, and the Captain's shoes. The wound closing in no more than a few moments was just as much proof as the seal was. Covens went next, pressing her thumb against the paper. Her seal appeared.

‘Um, isn’t it cheaper to transport a normal sellsword than an Ascendant?’ Pravin said, pressing his thumb against the paper. His sellsword information appeared.

‘Yes,’ the Captain said. ‘We only charge Q10 for a mortal transport.’ Pravin grinned, more than glad to save some money. ‘But we also charge double the original price for liars. Three Ascendants and a mortal isn’t what I was told.’ Pravin looked around, speechless. Finally, he comported himself and said:

‘I just said I was an Ascendant to scare those two assholes into lowering the price,’ Pravin said truthfully.

‘And now karma is making you pay double. Ain’t that a bitch?’ Roland held out his hand expectantly. Pravin counted out Q100 into a spare pouch, looking on the verge of tears the entire time.