Phantom in the Machine: Bleeding Aegis Book 2 by Valraven Dreadwood | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil

Chapter 12

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Chapter 12

The common slang that is used across Kasis continent often sounds strange to those not native. Here are a few examples of common terms and phrases.

Munch: A term referring to a quick meal.

Neffer: Someone contemptible.

Klept: To steal or have stolen something.

Sinvious: Sinful and nefarious.

Synapse spastic: To act nervous.

 

I was pleasantly entertained when I figured out how to summon my luggage. It was as simple as pressing a button on the locker fob, inputting the pin I set through my therra, and tossing the stick onto the bed. The fob blinked with a slow blue light as I watched a prompt in my HUD that read, ‘Please wait for inspection to conclude’. After a few minutes, the fob light turned to a solid green before vanishing with a light pop. In its place were all of my bags.

I quickly unpacked my belongings, starting with my tools and crafting supplies. Just as at the Academy, above my workbench was a Black Rack. It only took me a few minutes to get my tools in place before I moved on to my weapons, clothes, toiletries, and personal entertainment devices. Once I was done putting everything away, I rushed to the kitchen to find everyone else already there and waiting for me. Needless to say, I was subject to several glares.

The rest of the party formed a half circle around the inside edge of the island while Navor stood opposite them with her hands spread across the table as she leaned in. “Alright, kiddos. Now that everyone is here, we can get started. First, I’m setting some ground rules. One.” She held up one finger. “No killing each other. It may sound like some kind of joke, but it’s not. I’ve had students kill each other in the field over petty dreck.”

“Tied to this is rule two.” She raised another finger. “No fights outside of sparring sessions and no permanent injuries. We do have a pool of funds for medical needs that includes magic healing, but that pool ain’t deep.”

“Three.” She held up three fingers. “All disputes that can’t be resolved with polite words are to be concluded in a respectful sparing match. You can spar in the space connected to the common area workshop. It’s a simple gym to encourage you to stay fit.”

“Four.” She raised a fourth finger. “No drugs. Period. I will accept none of you smoking blunts, sniffing lines of coke, or getting inkked. The ONLY exception is if it is needed to maintain a cover identity. But I will not allow you to take on the cover of a druggy.”

“Five.” She extended her thumb. “No sex. Period. I know ya’ll have raging hormones, and your bodies are doing strange things. But I will not allow you to dittile each other. This isn’t just because pregnancy is an undesired result, but it will emotionally complicate your relationships with each other. If you find a nice girl or boy, or whatever who isn’t part of this group, and you get in bed with them, then whatever. Just use protection because, again, needless complications. This leads into rule six. No hookers. I’m looking at you, boys.” As one, every male member in the room looked at each other and the Master in shock and confusion. I noticed Nel trying to hide a snicker and Zynna rolling her eyes. “While ya’ll will have an allowance, I will not tolerate you blowing your deckra to get blown. I know brothels are a common sight, especially in the pleasure district. But I will not tolerate you entering an establishment. The only exception, again, is if you need to purchase services to maintain a cover. But if this does happen, you are to pay the man or woman, politely tell them that you are not of a sexuality that has you attracted to them and tell them you’re embraced by the fact and pay them extra to keep a secret. Is all this clear?”

Everyone gave a wordless nod of understanding before the Master moved on to a new topic. “Now, you heard me right when I said ya’ll will be getting an allowance. But you should think of this as a paycheck that you need to earn. Every week, each of you will receive credits equal to three gold deckra. That’s thirty credits a piece for you to spend on food and other needs. If you run out before the next Sacreday, you’re outta luck unless another party member is feeling generous.” We all looked at each other with open excitement. That was equal to three hundred coppers, which could buy a lot of crafting supplies. “Now, the craftsmen in the party will be getting extra.” Navor continued.

“Ma’am.” Spoke up Ozwald. “I’m sorry, but I feel like you’re playing favorites of the halfbreed and Hellspawn.”

“Ozwald, quit bitching.” Navor scolded. “These extra deckra are only for buying more crafting supplies or new tools. Nothing else. Or do you want your gear to be repaired with tape and glue when it breaks?”

The boy turned his gaze away in shame. “No, ma’am. Sorry.”

When the Master spoke next, she was addressing the entire group. “I’m only doing this because I know what to expect. You all will have equipment and gear break, and you will need them repaired. If not for this extra pool of coin, the technicians in the party would need to choose between eating or buying materials. That would cause serious tension between them and the rest of you because they will feel used and undervalued. Happy technicians make happy teams. Am I clear?”

Again, everyone nodded. With that response, Master Navor leaned back and folded her arms over her chest. “Good to hear. Iver, Kharmor, meet me later, and I’ll give you your extra funds and lay out the rules tied to it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Both S18 and I said in tandem.

“Now, starting tomorrow, I will talk to each of you one-on-one to give you your first jobs. You’re welcome to discuss the details with each other and ask for advice and even help if it does not interfere with other jobs. Aaanndd, party, break.” With this last line, Navor threw out her arms dramatically.

S18 and Demierra walked away, totally unphased by this outburst. Nel gave the Master a small smile before she left the space. Ferris let out a huffing chuckle before moving to catch up with Nel. Zynna just rolled her eyes again before walking away. She seemed to do that a lot. That only left me and Ozwald in the kitchen, and Ozwald was glaring at me like I had wronged him somehow.

“Great, an enemy from the outset.” I thought to myself with thick sarcasm. I turned away from him with no reaction and made to follow Ferris and Nel. I found the two sitting on the floor in the ground floor common area. I popped a squat beside the two and listened in on the talk.

“So, what kind of jobs do you think we’ll get?” Ferris asked with brimming energy.

“Probably reasonably simple and safe tasks to start.” Nel replied. Her tone and posture were far more relaxed than Ferris’s.

“I hope I get sent undercover into a gang to kill someone nasty. Like a gang leader.” Ferris commented.

“Dude.” I said with concern. “You seriously want to kill someone?”

“Well, someone bad, obviously.” Ferris said as he brushed off my concern.

“I’d rather not kill if I have the choice.” I muttered.

Nel turned to me with a question in her eyes and on her lips. “Ives’, I thought you wanted to kill your uncle?”

I leaned back and propped myself up on my arms as I stared at the ceiling. “I mean, yeah. But that’s different. The sinvious trog killed my father and tortured me for the better part of a year while calling it training.”

“What about Rose?” queried Ferris.

I dropped my head to look at the Elf in confusion. “What about her?”

“Would you kill her if you were given the chance?”

I looked to my right as I chewed on my lip in thought. Finally, I fell back, letting my arms spread out to either side. “I honestly couldn’t say. I mean, yeah. I’m seriously ticked off with the lady for what she did. But… I guess part of me still has feelings for her. I can’t help but wonder if we could mend things.”

“I don’t think that’s likely.” Said Nel. “But I hope it’s true. She may have been a pain.”

“And pushy.” Interjected Ferris.

“And pushy.” Nel agreed.

“And had a serious ego.” Ferris added.

“Yes, and that too. But she was our pushy pain with an ego. I think she just made a bad choice because your uncle is her hero.”

“You think that’s the only reason she abandoned me and betrayed the Order?” I asked.

“I know you have feelings for her, Iver, but Rose betrayed all of us. You got hurt worst, but we all got hurt.”

“I know.” I growled in frustration. “But it’s a serious wound on my heart that only feels like it’s getting worse with every passing day.” I sat up and wrapped my arms around my knees. The closed feeling gave me a sense of safety, if only slightly.

Nennel gave me a kind but sad smile. “If it’s one thing I learned from losing my dad, it’s not that it pain becomes less with time. It’s that as time passes and we change, we grow as people to carry the burden just a little bit better with each passing year.”

I looked at Nennel for a very long moment as I thought about what she said. That was some serious wisdom from a girl the same age as me. I hoped that what she said was true, because that would also help with my own father’s death. I pulled myself to my feet as I said, “Thanks, sis. That’ll help a lot. But right now, I need a distraction from all this.” I gestured to the whole room.

Ferris hopped to his feet. “You wanna game for a bit? I brought my PanKal gaming cube, and it’s set up in my room.”

I gave him a patient smile before I said. “I’ll take you up on that later. I think right now, I’m gonna work on a project or two.”

********************

I spent the next two hours holed up in my new room, working on several projects simultaneously. Several of the items I was crafting were for Nennel. I had promised her the year prior that I would craft gear to help her out in class, and I never really got around to it. I was going to make up for that and then some.

My priority one for Nennel was an anklet that would disguise her like my mimic facade system. But I was struggling to downsize a system that took up the majority of the back of my gauntlet’s hand to a small cuff that would still function as desired. When I got too frustrated with the cuff, I would swap over to a weapon for Nennel. I could’ve just made another infusion dagger, and she would have been happy, but that felt cheap. I was making another infusion dagger, but that was for myself as a backup melee weapon and tool if things got serious.

While I worked, my mind drifted to thoughts of Rose and the mess I had made of myself earlier that day. My mind wound up drifting to S18, Kharmor Gaibhnigh. Prior to the teleportation incident, the Half-Dwarf not only showed me up in mystechnology, my strongest subject, but he totally outstripped me with what he knew. I was not used to being stupider than someone else. I was always the smart one. I was the mystech prodigy that used his brilliance to outwit his enemies with unique gear. Before S18 had outclassed me, I had a glimmer of hope that I would earn the others’ respect through my wit and guile. But with me being the second smartest in the group, I was a total chump.

I grit my teeth at the thought of being a fool. I hated stupidity. It was something I would never have a tolerance for. In a world where only the strongest survive, those that could outwit the big strong oaf were the champions. Willful ignorance was a sin that I loathed, and compared to S18, I was stupid. I made a vow to myself that I would spend every scrap of free time I could find studying.

I was shocked out of my brooding by a rapping at my bedroom door. My head snapped up from my project, and I set down my soldering iron before rising to answer the door. I pulled the door open with unnecessary force, only to find a shadow standing in front of me. It took me a second to realize I was still wearing my welding goggles. I peeled back my goggles to find Navor standing at my door.

“Mind if I come in?” She asked. Her tone was annoyed but patient, with an undertone of understanding.

Warily, I gave a single wordless nod before stepping aside to let the Master pass. She pulled out the chair from the standard desk and straddled it backward. “I’ve been waiting for you to come find me to talk about your crafting funds.”

I sat down beside my workbench, head bowed, hands curled in my lap. “Sorry, ma’am. Today’s been… hard.”

She gave a slow nod before she said, “I understand that. But first business. After, we can talk personal. You and Kharmor each will have a pool of one platinum that can only be spent on crafting tools and supplies. Your BIC has already been updated with two bank accounts that will automatically be drawn from when you make a purchase. If you need a material or tool and the craft fund does not pay for it, let me know, and I’ll reimburse you and fix the error. Make sense?”

“Yes, ma’am.” My tone reflected my emotional state, which was a strange mix of shame and excitement.

“Kay, business talk is over.” She leaned the chair forward with the balls of her feet as she draped her crossed arms over the back of the chair. “Somethin’ is chewing at you, kid. It’s obvious. We’re gonna need to work on your control over emotional expression. But that’s on the docket for later. What’s grinding your gut?”

I chewed on my lip for a few moments as I debated how much to tell her. Finally, I gave up and told her everything. “It’s these new party members. And the party leader thing. And me making a total jackass fool of myself from the word go. I can tell that Ozwald and the others hate me because of what I am. But things only got worse when I said that I was a Type 3 Mastlok. I could tell that they thought I was an overachiever and that I was trying to prove that I was better than them. Which I wasn’t trying to do at all.” I threw a hand in a gesture toward the Master. “Then you went and made me party leader, and they thought you were playing favorites with the Hellspawn kiss ass. Then, when you pulled out that teleporter question, S18 went and made me look the fool in front of everyone. Not to mention my shameful state after the teleport and in the car ride here. Tack on my private room and extra funds from you.” I let out a grunting sigh of exasperation. “None of them respect me and won’t listen to a thing I have to say. I look like a weak ass, half-ass smart ass, and a jackass kiss ass.”

“Wow.” Navor commented with a smirk. “That’s a lot of ass for one man to handle.”

“But Master, that’s just it. I’m not a man. I’m a boy who just got dropped in a man’s shoes and told to run eighteen miles up a mountain.”

“Iver. I’ll be honest with you. Yeah, I kinda am playing favorites. Because you’re the only Dark Hunter in the group, you’re going to be tested the most. This leadership role I dropped on you is just that, a test. True, your first impression wasn’t great. And I agree that Ozwald, Zynna, and Demierra aren’t fans of you. But that’s a hurdle you’ll need to overcome. Show them that your species doesn’t matter, but your skill and mind do. And don’t forget that Nennel and Ferris are there to support you. You’re not alone in this.”

I raised a brow at the Master. “I notice that you didn’t mention S18.”

“First, don’t call him that. Neither of you are Slates anymore. Call him by his name. Second, the Half-Dwarf is an anomaly in the group. He’s pretty much a loner with his own scars. True, his damn smart, but he has his own shortcomings. And here’s a little secret.” Navor leaned in and cupped her mouth with one hand as she mock-whispered. “He’s aiming to become a Type 3 Mastlok.”

“What?! As in a Dark Hunter?”

She teetered her hand left and right in a so-so motion. “yes and no. He doesn’t know about the Dark Hunters, but he does have some suspicions. He’s already part of Blackened Crown and Burning Hand, but his main goal right now is to prove he’s worth joining Crimson Blade. I gotta say, the guy can tussle with the best of 'em’ in your year. I’m sizing him up to see if he’ll make a good Dark Hunter. After you get to know him better, I’ll ask for your input.” She rose from her seat and stepped up to me as I stood. “I know things are going to be tough in the days to come, and today was pretty bleak.” She laid a firm hand on my shoulder. “But I have faith that you can pull this off.” She moved to the door of the bedroom and laid her hand on the nob. But she stopped and spoke one last line to me.

“If you feel up to it later, I’ll treat you to some Nemmiean Ramen later.” She didn’t even wait for my answer before she left. I watched as the Master closed the door behind her and waited several moments after to make sure neither she nor anyone else was going to bother my work. When I was positive that I wouldn’t be bothered, I turned back to my crafting. The act of creation was soothing for me. It put me in a meditative state as I shaped metal, wire, plastic, and stone. Even as I tested, planned, and retested, part of me was brewing over what Master Navor told me.

I couldn’t twiddle my thumbs and just coast along during the mission. Just doing just good enough wouldn’t be good enough by Navor’s standards. That meant just good enough could never be my baseline. While this trip was an honest test for everyone, it was even more so for me. I had to prove my skills in every field as well as my ability to lead and earn the respect of others, despite my species. I had to think before every action I took and take action with maximum effort. If I half-assed anything from then on, I would regret it.

So, I locked myself in my room for the rest of that day and the night after. I studied technical designs and crafted late into the night. The next morning I wandered from my room into the kitchen, still tired from the late night. It was there that I found Navor cooking breakfast for the party. Demierra, Zynna, and Nennel were already in the kitchen, and Nennel was helping the Master cook. Demierra was sitting at the dining table looking bored with her jaw propped against a loosely closed fist as she watched the Master scramble a pan of eggs. Zynna was leaning with her back against the wall opposite me, with one hand held behind her head while her other one operated the holographic interface of her therra-node.

“And so the first male rises.” Master Navor playfully mocked with a smirk.

“And, of course, it had to be the horned Neffer of all of them.” Zynna bemoaned.

“Hey!” Nennel snapped at the Half-Elf from over her shoulder. “Iver is a skilled and valued guy.”

“So skilled and useful that he pukes after a teleport and can’t handle a bit of smoke?” Demierra pointed out with thick sarcasm. The comment drew a blush of embarrassed shame to my face and forced my gaze to the floor.

“So you judge a man on a bad day that he can’t help?” Master Navor asked with a chiding tone.

Demierra sat up and leaned toward the master as she got engaged in the conversation. “Someone is their most honest self on their bad days. That’s when they show their true colors, whether they are a jackass, or xenist, or cowardly.”

“Well, if that’s true,” Navor started with a wise and knowing smirk as she dished up a plate of eggs for each student. “Then, shouldn’t that mean I should judge you based on that terrible day you had last year? You remember. That day you slept in past morning physical training. The same day you tripped over yourself during that team tactics battle and lost your squad the match. And wasn’t that also the same day when you miscast a spell in mage class and critically wounded a fellow student?”

“What?! No!” Demierra shot to her feet in defense. “That was totally different.”

“Different, how?” Navor teased. “If I based my perspective of your character on that day, then you're a lazy and dangerous klutz. Compare that to Iver. He had never teleported before, and almost everyone loses their lunch on the first trip. And his coughing fit on the ride down here. If you stopped to learn anything about the boy, then you’d know that he’s from a Green Threat Zone city out in the wilds. He’s never dealt with smog, and I know your eyes would have been watering at the least if you’d sat in the truck.” As she spoke, Nennel slid bacon and sausage onto each plate before starting up a batch of pancakes. Navor walked over to the tall Dracose and forcefully set a plate down before the girl as she commanded, “Now, sit, and eat.”

It was at this point that Zynna pushed off from the wall, fluidly moved into the kitchen, and scooped up a plate and fork as she said, “It sounds to me like you’re playing favorites, Master.” She said the title with her own brand of snide sarcasm. “You give a weak-looking, kiss-ass, foul-blood who’s never been in a big city the leader role. Then you give him his own room and give him extra coin to tinker with.” Zynna scooped a mouthful of egg into her mouth before she said around the food, “It doesn’t seem all that fair to me.” She then swallowed before finishing her tirade with, “And I highly doubt that,” She jabbed her fork towards me, “Nitwit is a Type 3 Mastlok. A wrench juggling tinker, I’d believe that. I might even believe that he’s a caster of some kind, but not a combat caster. But he claims to be part of Crimson Blade. That’s a joke and a half, coming from someone as weak as him.”

Navor gave the Half-Elf an amused grin as she said, “Then spar him some time.”

Zynna eyed me skeptically. I gave her a bashful smile, but it was only half genuine. While I was embraced by the Master’s comment, I wanted to look weak for the Half-Elf. That way, when I sparred with her and made her eat dirt, it would be all the more impressive. I needed to think tactically. Every move, every word needed to count. I had to be the most scheming and devious Darkling I could be. True, most people already were wary around my kind and thought of Darklings as the most devious of Halflings. But I needed to use that stereotype and subvert expectations. I was going to play a layered game. If people thought I was scheming, then I’d play weak, simple, and stupid till they believed it and turn the tides when it suited me best.

“Psh.” Zynna scoffed. “When I have time, then I’ll put the Neffer in his place. Till then, I’m gonna prep for my job.” With that, she scarfed down her food before setting the plate aside and fleeing the room in what she must have thought was a calm and dignified manner.

“Wait. She already has her first job?” I asked.

Nennel strolled over to me and shoved a plate of food into my hands as she said, “Yep. The Master already gave all the ladies of the party our adventuring seals, needed documents, as well as our first jobs.”

“Seriously?” I pleaded. I felt like a fool for sleeping in, but I was somewhat mollified by the fact that I was the first male to wake. “Do women normally wake up at such an ungodly hour?”

“I guess you could call me my womanly talents.” Nel teased.

“Any respectable adventurer wakes before dawn.” Demierra proclaimed as she stood and walked out with her plate of food in hand.

Navor approached me with a plate meant for me. “Scarf down this munch, and we’ll talk work.”

I eyed the two plates of food for a moment. I could eat that much, and I was that hungry. But should I? I did as I was told, shoveling eggs and meat into my mouth like a starving man, adding pancakes to one of the plates not long after I started eating. Once I finished, I cleaned my dishes and turned to the Master.

“Follow me to my room.” Was all she said before she left the room. I hurried to keep up after I realized that she had never told anyone where her room was.

She turned down the hall with the three trainee rooms on the ground floor before stopping at the blank wall that ended the hall. I watched in confusion as she reached into a pocket and pulled out something in a closed fist with which she knocked on the wall in a strange and complex rhythm. As soon as she finished, a door unlike any other faded into reality to take up the wall. The door in question was shaped from smooth black stone, with threads and veins of sapphire blue laced throughout the surface. Its surface was carved in a detailed design of four dragons curling around the corners to breathe flames that faded into a maw of sharp teeth at the center of the surface. The handle of the door was a latch carved from the jaw of some beast, teeth still in place.

As soon as the door was fully formed, she slipped whatever she had in hand back into her pocket before looking over her shoulder at me. She gestured with her head for me to follow, even as she opened the door. I doubled my pace to follow her through the gate and into a strange room, unlike anything I had ever seen before. Beyond the door was a circular, full-sized bed, the base carved from cherry wood to display horses running in a herd across the length. The mattress was covered in fur pelts from a range of creatures I didn’t even try to identify. The walls were lined with stuffed and mounted trophies from some of the most dangerous creatures across Anogwin. Just from a quick scan, I identified a mother manticore’s three barbed tails, a kraken’s fang, a sheerfang spider’s mandibles, and an averon’s massive clawed arm with crystals still intact. But the most notable showpiece was the mounted head of a stigmagaunt, set above her bed. Besides the trophies, I also noticed several pieces of fine art. Three paintings were mounted to the walls, each depicting some brutal display of nature at war with itself. To the left of the room was a large holo-screen television over a bookcase weighed down with paperbacks, hardcovers, and leather-bound tomes. To my right was a large desk made from cherry wood that matched her bed with a modern wheeled chair fitted with a fur-lined back and seat padding. When I stepped deeper into the room, I found the wall that the door was attached to was lined with an arsenal of tools of death. Everything from daggers to war hammers, and pistols to infantry ballistic cannons were all set into a Black Rack that covered the whole of the wall.

Navor unceremoniously flopped into her desk chair before motioning me to take a seat on the bed. I did as I was indicated, feeling totally out of place as I took my seat on a mattress that seemed to engulf my form, shaping to my ass and supporting it.

“Before you ask,” Navor started as she set her feet atop her desk and started cleaning her nails with a knife large enough to butcher most medium-sized creatures. “It’s a pocket dimension.” She off-handedly waved her blade to the entire room without looking up from her nails. “I call it my pocket private space. No one can enter without my express permission and personal intent for them to do so.” In a fluid motion, she launched the blade in her hand to bury it into the wood floor at my feet. It was only then that I noticed that the floor was carved from a single massive piece of dark-stained oak.

“So here’s the deal, kid.” as she spoke, she started interacting with her therra, which to me looked like she was poking and swiping at mid-air. “I’m about to give you all the documents you’ll need to pass as a Novitiate rank adventurer. Starting now and until we leave the city, I’ll give you jobs. These jobs can be anything from catching a pickpocket to infiltrating a gang for info. I might send you on more complicated jobs, like infiltrating a business for one reason or another. In those instances, I’ll give you most of what you need to take on the role. Anything I don’t provide but tell you that you’ll need is up to you to craft. Got it?”

I gave a wordless nod, my posture ridged.

“Good. Now, your first job is simple. Three blocks from here, on Pellis Street and Niden Way, is a corner store run by a family of Ceangar. They’ve had someone klepting random goods from their store for the past three months. Your job is to find this thief and put a stop to the problem. Am I clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I hastily replied.

“Glad to hear. Now, I’ve given everyone else in the party a set hourly minimum they must meet when working a job up until completion. You have no such limits. Work when you want, as you want. But realize that this is part of your test.” Navor dropped her feet from her desk and posted both elbows on her knees as she gestured to the door with the large knife. “To git.”

As I left the room, I couldn’t help but wonder how she got the blade from the floor near me and back into her hands without my noticing.

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