Chapter 7: Veiss

In an abandoned coal mine, within one of the numerous underground sections.

A small group of youths in bleached-yellow overalls embroidered with the mark of fate had gathered in what used to be a rescue bay. The bay was powdered white, the roof too low for comfort, thick layers of stone dust cushioned the ground and fire-proof lights in every corner brightened the space.

Veiss didn’t disturb the class. Opting to patiently wait and observe from the entrance. He leaned against the rusted door in his midnight blue jumpsuit.

He studied the trainees, all in their mid-teens. They faced each other in pairs, cross legged on the sandy white floor. They were sending each other thoughts through subliminal waves and then expressing those thoughts aloud to each other. A basic technique for mastering the wave controls.

“That’s not what I sent,” a teen said.

“Wrong,” another said.

“No,” a voice said exasperated.

“Uh-uh.”

There were numerous cries of no or wrong, he noted shaking of heads and constipated faces as they tried to figure out what their partner had transmitted.

The mind was never meant to be invaded. So the untrained mind found it difficult to separate foreign thoughts from its own subconscious thoughts.

‘But they will learn.’

And it was imperative they master the skill. Cybermages weren’t only trained to intrude on other’s psyche but the capability to protect their own minds from intrusion.

The trainees displayed varied depths of understanding so their results differed. But none of them were anywhere near grasping the wave controls.

‘Well, except one.’

Veiss pulled down his shades to get a better look. He considered the girl-boy pair at the centre most front.

“You’re an annoying little bitch,” the girl said and rolled her dark eyes at the lack of creativity.

“Correct,” the pale boy said through grit teeth.

They exchanged a few more subliminal waves and the girl was getting them all right.

‘She must be the one, Khumalo.’

She matched the description he’d been given. Thinly braided dark hair, brown skin and her face was littered with gold piercing: she had a nose ring, a piercing on the corner of her lip, a pair of piercings on her brows and the rims of her ears were lined with golden studs.

His expression became grave. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like her. He didn’t like how often he was hearing her name in the circles he frequented. It gave him a sense of déjà vu.

‘Too reminiscent of how I rose to my current standing.’

Despite his status as the first heir, his position wasn’t safe. The charismatic second heir spent too much time with the master and people were starting to talk. He didn’t need yet another heir coming in to threaten his chances of succeeding the master.

Being an heir in the AoF had nothing to do with blood. Heirs were talents who had the best mixture of potential, leadership and intelligence. Hence the master chose him and the second as his heirs.

Despite the master being some way before retirement there was a need for a line of succession. Firstly, to prevent a repeat of the faction wars that befell the clan when the 1st Master Fate was incarcerated by the GCPD over two decades ago. The faction wars had almost destroyed the clan and had only ended when the 2nd Master Fate was crowned.

‘After he’d slain all his competitors of course.’

And the 2nd Master Fate’s first act as leader was to implement the line of succession which now all but guaranteed he would become the 3rd Master Fate.

‘Without all the blood and war.’

Secondly, barbaric as it may seem the master wasn’t exempt from doing missions.

‘To lead by example and all.’

And such was the structure of most clans born in the Scorchedlands. Which meant the master could die at any given mission.

‘And fate forbid the master actually perishes.’ Veiss rolled his eyes.

But if he did die.

‘Hypothetically of course.’

If he did die. Veiss was ready to step up.

‘And I don’t need any more challengers getting in my way.’

Veiss ran a hand along his slick-backed hair and exhaled softly.

‘Perhaps I should befriend her. Make it easier to sabotage and stunt her progress.’

And if push comes to shove.

‘I’d be in a better position to take care of her.’

He smirked and adjusted his shades to conceal the cold glint in his eyes.

His smile froze when he caught the master looking his way. Standing next to his throne, fully geared in dark mechanical armour and motionless azure cape.

His expression impossible to read because his helm never came off and its visor was tinted dark red.

Veiss was quick to regain his composure, nodding at the master as if nothing was amiss.

The master nodded back, averted his gaze and continued to preside over the session.

Despite how harmless the youths’ exercise seemed, there was a possibility of mental trauma when the wave controls were abused. Older mages even formed covens and combined their broadcasting power to bombard enemies with an abundance of incoherent thoughts triggering a mental overload and forcing the mind into submission. Trainees sometimes did the same – albeit to a lesser extent – to bully each other. Hence the master took it upon himself to watch over their training, teach them the right way to employ their powers.

A few minutes later the master said.

“To master wave controls is not to only master one’s own mind but to master the minds of others – The Encrypted Scriptures, volume 1 extract.”

The words rolled off his tongue like they’d been rehearsed a great many times. There was a general bobbing of heads amongst the youths.

Veiss shook his head. ‘Understand or not they’ll nod.’

The master was too intimidating to question.

Veiss stared at them pitifully. ‘They struggle this much with wave controls, wait until they get to droid controls.’

“That will be all—”

The master paused for a raised hand, the girl in the centre most front.

“Yes, Malo.”

“Is it possible for a trainee to have a look at the scriptures?”

Veiss sneered.

‘You’re getting ahead of yourself child.’

Only fully fledged agents could gaze upon the Encrypted Scriptures. The scriptures contained enlightenment beyond the mage controls. Knowledge reserved for agents who’d taken an oath of service.

“No, rules are rules but I’ll get you started on the other controls if that is your intention.”

“Thank you master,” Khumalo said with a tempered expression. Not giving away any signs of satisfaction or dissatisfaction.

Another teen raised a shaky arm.

“Yes, Nando.”

“The scriptures besides the mage controls do they make any other mentions.”

‘The balls on these kids,’ Veiss snickered.

“They do,” The master said, seemingly unbothered by their questions. “They contain texts from the old religion, a history of the old world before the sun blazed unchecked, details on the greater relics of the old empire and stars of creation just to name a few. Though admittedly, some of the info seems more myth than fact. However it could also be we haven’t decoded these parts of the scriptures correctly.”

Veiss noted an enthusiasm in master’s voice speaking on the Encrypted Scriptures. However the master refrained from divulging too much to these trainees. Like how most the volumes within the scriptures remained encrypted because each volume was harder to decrypt than the last.

“Let’s wrap it up. We’ve kept Veiss waiting long enough.”

The nosy kids weren’t satisfied but they could wait until their next session to try and sate their curiosities. The master dismissed the class with a few warnings not to abuse their powers.

Veiss who’d been waiting patiently approached the throne and bowed his head. “Master!”

“Veiss, you have news.”

“Yes master, the mechanics have begun repairs on the field disruptor. Hopefully we’ll have some results soon.”

“Good, good. What else?”

“Some nomad clans have been expanding their foraging excursions dangerously close to the mine.”

“Coordinate with M’Khabye, prioritize concealment but if any get too close lure them away I don’t want to attract more trouble. Reserve killing as a last resort.”

“Understood. The metro farms haven’t yielded to our expectations.”

Large scale farming in the infertile Scorchedlands was hard enough and top of that they were forced to farm underground to avoid rival clans and the federation.

“I’ll have to make another trade with the Druid clan to make up for the shortage.”

Veiss frowned but nodded nonetheless. The Druid clan had bio-engineered crops that thrived in the extremely dry Scorchedlands. They’d attempted to steal their recipes once and learned a hard lesson.

“Anything else?”

“Yes,” Veiss hissed. Paused, reluctant to say.

He knew the master had a lot on his plate from overseeing trainees, expanding their digital presence, to creating and completing missions. The fact that he had such an abnormal workload was testament to their ambitious expansion.

The master met his gaze. “What?”

“Some of the clan civilians have been moving suspiciously.”

Not everyone in their clan was an agent. The majority in fact were No-chip refugees whom they took in. United against other clans that roamed free in the wilderness, away from the federation’s suffocating grip.

“I see. If anyone wants to escape they’ll likely use the Incline. The lift is too heavily guarded and prevents unauthorized access.”

The Incline was an emergency exit, a long flight of stairs that went up to the surface.

“I concur.”

The master regarded Veiss for a moment. “You seem to have it under control so I’ll leave the details to you.”

“I’ll do my best.” Veiss bowed his head.

Eyes shut, so their euphoric gleam wouldn’t permeate through his lenses.

Veiss enjoyed nothing more than increased responsibility. It intensified his stranglehold over the AoF, enhanced his chances of remaining the first choice to succeed the master.

All in preparation for the day his destiny comes to fruition.

“Has Carrasco checked in yet?”

Veiss frowned. “It’s most odd master. He’s yet to reach out and hasn’t used any of our safe houses on the surface. Perhaps there are mitigating circumstances for his deviation in protocol.”

“Or,” the master mused. “He simply betrayed us and decided to keep the greater relic for himself.”

There was silence as they both marinated on this.

“Young master,” an old voice cooed. “Preparations for the upgrade ceremony are mostly ready. Has Carrasco arrived with the—”

“Postpone it M’Khabye.” The master waved her off. “Carrasco might’ve betrayed us.”

The old hag paused halfway into the bay and her wrinkled face sank. The countless red beads lining her braided grey hair rustled gently. She wore red and grey shamanic robes, had numerous pieces of jewellery ranging from beaded necklaces to a golden medallion and charred skin as if she’d taken a dip in the furnace.

She claimed to be a first generation cybermage from the old empire, as if anyone could live that long.

Veiss scowled at the deluded old thing.

‘We can do without her religious nonsense right now.’

“We shouldn’t postpone,” M’Khabye said. “The flow of our ideal fate is against delaying.”

Veiss furrowed his brows. ‘Again with that fate shit.’

All this nonsense about fate, probability, patterns and ceremonies was a waste of time. He didn’t like it but he also couldn’t deny the old witch was integral to their rise.

She’d been the one who’d brought the 1st Master Fate the Encrypted Scriptures. The knowledge of which had helped lay the foundations of the AoF. So the master indulged her beliefs.

‘Much more than necessary in my opinion.’

“I thought we needed the greater relic for ceremony?” The master said.

“We don’t but you’ll understand when you find it,” M’Khabye said knowingly.