6/7/2025 Update: The Story is now available on both Fiction Press and Royal Road. Click on either to read it there, if that is preferable.

So, I noticed interest on my Kindle Vella blog post, which is now useless because Kindle Vella was taken down by Amazon. I wasn’t sure whether to share this or not, because it didn’t seem to have much interest at all on Kindle Vella like so many other stories by authors. I haven’t finished writing it, and I’m honestly not sure when I will be able to finish it because I might want to focus on other stories first.

I had hoped to finish my Political book, A Hindu Critiques Islam, by last month but it’s now 6 months into this year and I haven’t been able to do that. It’s taken-up all my time and focus to the point I want to read more in-depth on certain subtopics and present a refined amount of research for self-publication once I finish the book version, but that’ll take even more reading. So, I now have to juggle research, focusing on maintaining my house, and spare time that involves either more research to share on the two subreddits I made, research into reading or re-reading academic books that may or may not be useful, or dividing time for streaming shows, movies, or playing video games to not have my mind focused on more serious tasks that can be very depressing sometimes.

I feel really bad publishing something even online and then not giving a definite timeframe for when I’ll have it finished. It could be a year or two years, and at that point… why should anyone take the time read something, if it remains unfinished?  But, at the same time, I already did publish the first six on Kindle Vella before Kindle Vella was closed and it seems people are interested. I’m truly very sorry that I can’t promise when it’ll be finished though. I basically have several ideas and written several outlines for various stories and I am unsure which one I’ll start first once A Hindu Critiques Islam is finished. That being said, a part of me wondered why it would matter, because it seems like I hardly get much feedback in general on this blog. I’ve also submitted it to Royal Road and I’m waiting to see if they’ll approve it on their website.

At the very least, it’s a useful way for readers of gauging my writing ability and deciding whether purchasing any future fantasy novels by me is a good idea to them or not. Please note that I can’t indent on my blog, or Royal Road, and Kindle Vella also didn’t allow it when it was still operational. I hope you all enjoy. When I do update, I’ll do it in bulk so that it’s at least five chapters each blog post, unless a specific chapter is too large.  If you like it or hate it, then please send me a comment giving me your opinions on it.

All feedback is welcome, but constructive feedback is preferable, but if you hate it and want to let me know, then that’s fine too. If you choose to read it, then thank you for taking the time to do so.

This is broken down into 6 chapters and you can ctrl + F for each Chapter. For the purposes of this format, I revised the name of the entry portion. 

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Story Summary:

Due to the upcoming tournament to determine the future ruler of the theocracy known as Leviathan Unity, the Overseer of the Covenant secretly tasks his granddaughter, Mekia, with assassinating all his political rivals so that his successor will be someone of his lineage. Meanwhile, tensions worsen among the Noblesse due to hysteria over an ancient prophecy. Mekia eventually forges a secret covenant with Tumaz, a member of the discriminated racial group for her own political interests. 

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The Prologue Chapter

“Enter” said Elil Cmxcviii-usam Ephram, the Overseer of the Covenant, while he sat cross-legged beside a short square table. A pink tome rested in front of him. He took a sip of his herbal tea and set it on the corner of the table. His wrinkled visage gazed upon the newest occupant as she gave the customary bow before sitting opposite of him.

“Grandfather,” intoned the blond-haired, blue-eyed girl. Her face blank and her shoulders hunched.

She remained silent and awaited further instructions from him. After several minutes of quietly sipping his tea, he placed it atop the saucer at the side of the table and turned his attention to her. She noted that Ephram’s wizened features had that characteristic flash of disapproval before he began to speak to her.

“The competition to determine my successor shall begin in the coming months,” said Ephram, “The one who accrues the largest commercial assets, commands the highest functioning military force among the candidates, and gains either a decisive victory over all others or accumulates the largest number of written concessions of losses from the other candidates shall be my successor.”

She nodded and remained silent. A tense silence fell between them. Her grandfather’s crystal-blue eyes and visage gave her an unreadable expression. She stared back impassively. After nearly a minute, he grabbed a sharp quill and prickled his finger upon it. Her shoulders tensed and her posture straightened.

“I have decided that you shall be a participant,” said Ephram as he returned to the quill to his left and opened the tome, known as the Pink Slip. He brushed through the pages until he stopped at the intended location to begin writing his new Draconian Decree upon a fresh page. “You are to undertake a special operation at my behest. I shall henceforth grant you all of your physical capabilities that were previously limited. You are authorized to use deception for any purposes outside of my explicit command, if necessary.”

Her eyes widened and her lips parted as she tried to maintain her composure. Her heartbeat quickened as she watched her grandfather write the new Draconian Law in his own blood. Within her body, she felt the restraints that had bound her slowly evaporate as if chains within her very blood had disintegrated within her. Breaking from her formal etiquette, she moved her right hand to her chest and her left hand to her stomach as she began to breathe a few deep breaths to adjust to her new freedom. The magic within her no longer constricting her physical abilities. She gazed at her grandfather with wide eyes as she regulated her breathing.

Her grandfather’s lips grimaced once again. She quickly put her hands to her sides and straightened her posture.

He continued. “The purists of the other Noble Houses wish to sow discord and create instability so they may take hold of the Pink Slip and supplant us. Each of them shall likely wait until their specific planet aligns with their magical cores to grant them powers that are out of the control of the Pink Slip. They will undoubtedly see the competition as an opportunity to strike at me. You are to assassinate all of them, preferably prior to the respective month in which they will attain their self-mastery forms. Outside of two vital conditions, you are allowed to use any means necessary to carry out this mission. The first condition is that you are never to put your half-cousins in harm. Second, and equally as important to the mission, you are to stymie and de-escalate any conflict amongst your half-cousins, your half-sibling, and any animosity they display towards you. The purpose of this competition is so that a person of my bloodline succeeds me and each of my children have married into the Noble Houses with their respective children as successors to each House. Once you kill all the purists who seek to rule outside of our bloodline, you may remain a participant in the competition.”

After a tense and awkward silence between them, Ephram nodded to her. “You may speak.”

“You speak of the urgency of this matter, but you did not grant me a name change so that I may pose a genuine challenge by using a self-mastery form?” She questioned; her brows furrowed. “How am I to assassinate them, if the worst-case scenario occurs? You’ve granted all other participants their self-mastery forms, but you expect me to triumph against the most powerful members of each respective House without one?”

“The competition necessitates that each participant is given an equal playing field, you are granted my counsel throughout the competition for any matters that you need assistance with,” said Ephram, she pursed her lips at his response. He took a breath and exhaled. “But no, you shall never be granted the privilege of my family name and you will never be allowed a self-mastery form. Your mother was a disappointment and the man she eloped with was a two-bit commoner who acted above his station. And what happened in the end? She was abused and came running back to your grandmother and I while pregnant with you. My feelings have not changed and they never will.”

Her face kept a stone mask of indifference as he spoke those sharp words. She took a deep breath, exhaled, and spoke. “I have no land, titles, and I work as an attendant to Erra House and command armies only on behalf of my step-sister’s name. Why entrust me with such a sensitive mission or formally admit me into the competition, then?”

“You are convenient because few would suspect you for those very reasons,” said Ephram, his lips twitched upwards for a brief moment before he schooled his features. “Moreover, you are expendable ever since your mother followed my commands and married into Erra House to birth the second heir after I instructed her to discard you. I no longer have to worry that my dear wife’s bloodline will go extinct.”

“Would grandmother have wanted this?” She dared to ask. He froze for a moment; his eyes momentarily wide with surprise before his features returned to the same patronizing gaze.

She kept her visage carefully blank as he continued. “You have followed my commands diligently ever since I chained the special magic that your grandmother foolishly sacrificed her life to give you. Your grandmother was always fixated on protecting family honor, she grew-up instilled with obedience to a literalist interpretation of family obligations, and as my half-sister, she was committed to safeguarding our blood. Do not ever mistake her sacrifice for genuine affection simply because you were born. She was above such empty trivialities.”

She nodded in silence. A sharp piercing feeling overwhelmed her chest at his words. Another tense silence hung between them until Ephram seemed to decide it was time to send her away.

“You are dismissed,” said Ephram, she waited for his usual biting remark before exiting the room. A sharp pain overtook her chest again, but she continued to ignore it. “You should display more enthusiasm. After all, I have granted you the privilege of becoming my servant.”

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Chapter 1: Tumaz Mazud Zudu

“Tumaz!” He heard his name called from a female voice that seemed to come closer despite the disparate chatter of the bar. “Hey, Tumaz! Are you listening?”

Tumaz Mazud Zudu looked between the beverage that he was sipping and small book in his hands. He turned his attention to the voice in front of him. Brenda Clay Zland stood in front of him in her customary battle uniform, her arms crossed around her chest, and her left foot tapping at the floor. Both ignored the bustle of the bar as they simply stared at each other for a moment. She brushed a few of her bangs from her short, dark hair. He scowled at her. “What?”

“I was calling you since I walked in here,” snapped Brenda, she scowled back at him. “Why the hell weren’t you listening? Boss Zeine wants to speak with you. He commanded me to come get you.”

Tumaz felt a cold chill flow up his spine, his dark eyes widened, and he froze once she finished her words. ‘What could he want from me?’

“Did he say why?” questioned Tumaz, he tried to keep his voice even.

“Why do you think?” said Brenda, her tone having a confluence of sarcasm and a cold tone. Her lips twitched upward, but then her dark features turned into a grimace. “Probably the same thing that happened to me, two years ago.”

Tumaz felt his blood run cold at her words. ‘Maybe it isn’t that bad? Maybe it’s relatively small and I can handle it within six months to a year?’

Dread wafted through his body as he abandoned his beverage and the book. He followed Brenda through the staff door and began to move up the staircase to meet their boss. Their footfalls echoed from the stairs as they both remained silent. Tumaz ran a hand through his dark hair and squared his shoulders once they reached the upper floor.

Brenda opened the door to Boss Zeine’s office in front of him and walked inside. Tumaz followed and surveyed the room. Brenda had walked to the far wall on the left, away from him. Many of his fellow mafia members stood on each side of the boss with newly minted guns. Tumaz noticed several new crates which presumably contained shipments of the weapons. Tumaz felt a flash of irritation upon noticing the Zodian commoner, Fait Unisi Sarru, standing next to the boss. His light complexion contrasting the darker complexions of the Nadirians around him. The same cocky grin was on the Zodian commoner’s pale visage. He briefly gazed at the miniscule U-shaped scar on Sarru’s forehead that few ever noticed. Tumaz swallowed a lump and then turned his attention to the cold, blue eyes of Andrew Badcock Zeine, known infamously by the city-dwellers as Boss Zeine. The Boss preferred being acknowledged by his second surname because it made him feel closer to being a Zodian and because his first surname had made the Nadarians within their city laugh at him, which had often resulted in the perpetrators being kidnapped and executed at the Boss’s leisure when discovered.

“Tumaz, so good of you to finally join us,” said Boss Zeine, a facile smile plastered on his visage.

“My Lord,” intoned Tumaz, he attempted to keep his voice neutral as he bowed. ‘He really deludes himself into thinking that he can be like the Zodian Nobles. This fucking idiot.’ Tumaz kept his visage blank as he finished his bow and awaited Boss Zeine’s next words. ‘And here I am, serving him like the rest of them. Pathetic. Why does the world have to be like this?’

 “I have great news, Tumaz. Sir Sarru here has secured us the favor of House Girsu, I’ve acquired a cache of one hundred guns and a promissory note.” said Boss Zeine, “The only issue is that I’ve gained a debt of three million shekels and agreed to a fifty percent interest rate repayment plan in order to keep Lord Girsu’s favor above our local rivals, so he wouldn’t provide the same opportunities to them as he’s granted us. The debt amount totals to forty-five thousand Drachmas, which is four and a half million shekels.”

Tumaz felt a chill flow through his body as he maintained a neutral composure. His eyes flicked to Sarru sneering at him before he returned his attention to Boss Zeine. A mixed sense of vertigo and surrealness invaded his mind as Boss Zeine spoke his next words. ‘Please no . . .’

“Which is why I called for you here, Tumaz. Brenda graciously reminded me that you are among the few who has yet to prove yourself in our loyalty program. Despite working for us for eight years, you still haven’t taken part.” said Zeine, a disarming smile on his visage. Tumaz made sure to keep his eyes focused on Zeine and repressed the urge to turn to scowl at Brenda. He kept his fingers from curling into a ball. “So, at the suggestion of both Brenda and Sarru, you have the honor of clearing this debt for me as proof of loyalty to the Badcock Brand.”

Tumaz said nothing. Boss Zeine kept his eyes glued at Tumaz’s visage with a smile. Tumaz had to force himself not to grimace at the eerie, piercing gaze of the Mafia boss. ‘I bet Sarru told him to hold a measure of silence to make himself more intimidating. I thought Sarru was full of shit about having connections to Zodian Nobles. How did he manage to make a deal on Boss Zeine’s behalf?’

Boss Zeine continued. “I understand that you just inherited a large debt, so I’m going to help you out, Tumaz. You can enlist your family into a payment program that Sarru has generously made. Now, you have a younger sister, right? Ama-something? And Brenda tells me that she’s just turned eighteen. She’s a bit old, but we can make it work. So, how’s about Brenda and some of our other girls spruce her up a bit, she starts earning her keep by working at our high-end brothel, and you do some special assignments for me? Sarru says that by around eight to ten years of hard work, you and her will have paid back your debt to me in full. Not a bad deal, right?”

Tumaz felt as if a cold pit of ice dropped into his heart. ‘I have to think of something quickly. I have to keep Amashi safe from them, but I can’t try to get out of this like last time or they’ll kill me . . .’

“I . . .” began Tumaz, he paused and rapidly got to one knee in front of Boss Zeine. Boss Zeine kept his eyes hooked on Tumaz. He could hear Sarru chuckle. ‘Nearly spoke without bowing. Stupid, pointless rules . . .’ “I humbly . . . request that . . . I take care of this myself.”

“You what?”

Tumaz kept his gaze directly at Boss Zeine’s eyes. He cleared his throat, hunched his shoulders, and straightened his posture before speaking again. “I humbly request permission to manage this debt by myself without having to unduly burden the Badcock Brand organization. It would be unseemly to place the onus on anyone but myself.”

For a moment, everyone seemed frozen and no one responded to his statements. Boss Zeine had his jar agape. Soon, his jaw closed shut and his eyes narrowed. He sneered at Tumaz.

“Okay Tumaz, we’ll play it your way for now. But . . . I expect a down payment in three months.” said Boss Zeine, he brandished one of the newly purchased guns from his holster and pointed at Tumaz’s face. “And another thing, if I hear a whiff of you or your sister running away, well . . . it’ll be unfortunate, if I have to place someone else on the loyalty program because your family couldn’t keep your promise. The entire Badcock Brand organization will make sure to keep you focused on paying us back.”

He made a fake bang noise. After a few seconds, Boss Zeine shooed him away. Tumaz bowed his head and carefully raised himself to his feet before he turned to leave. He could hear a pair of footsteps following behind him. Walking down the spiral staircase, he arrived at his original spot and held back a frustrated sigh upon seeing that his book was no longer there.

‘Fuck this place.’

Tumaz turned to the exit the glorified headquarters of the Badcock Brand. He felt a flash of irritation upon hearing a voice from behind.

“Wait! Stop!” shouted the high-pitched voice.

Tumaz counted to ten in his head before turning around to see Brenda Clay Zland approaching him once again. His hands balled into fists and he attempted to count to twenty to keep his composure in check.

“What do you want?” snapped Tumaz, he mentally kicked himself. Brenda flinched at his words. ‘I don’t know what arrangement she’s made with Boss Zeine. As far as I know, she could be assigned to watch both Amashi and I. I need to be careful.’ “Sorry, as you can imagine, I have a lot on my mind. Can you make whatever this is quick?”

Brenda scowled and folded her arms. “What’re you thinking? How could you turn down the offer that Boss Zeine gave you?”

“What?!” said Tumaz, his eyebrows knotted and his lips slightly parted from her comment. ‘Is she actually fucking stupid?’ “I shouldn’t have to explain the obvious to you.”

Brenda froze and her eyes seemed to water a moment, but she proceeded to blink her eyes before any tears fell. Her shoulders began to shake. “So, . . . so what’re you planning to do about the debt that you owe, then? You think of something already?”

“No . . .” said Tumaz, irritation flashed and he began to feel a headache from her prying questions. “Look, what do you want? I’m going to be busy with paying back this debt, so get to the fucking point.”

Brenda flinched again. Tumaz had to force himself not to scowl at her. ‘Fuck! I’m trying to be calm, but this fucking idiot is getting under my skin. I just need time to think. I don’t have time to deal with her shit.’

“Well, I was thinking . . . if you don’t know what to do and if you really don’t want to do the payment plan despite the generous offer, how about you work within our posse with me and maybe we all help each other out? A few of them have their own debts, so I was thinking that if we all do some corner jobs, maybe we all can –”

“Are you s – are you being serious?!” snapped Tumaz, Brenda’s eyes widened at him. Her arms fell to her sides and she scowled at him. He couldn’t stop himself from glaring at her. ‘I nearly called her stupid. Not that she doesn’t deserve to be called it.’ “Doing side jobs would never be enough to pay the debt that was given to me! Don’t bother me with this!”

People at the quasi – bar, quasi – mafia hangout turned to stare at the two. Brenda’s eyes blazed. “Yeah, well, I’m just trying to help! You could show some fucking gratitude! You should show more appreciation, considering all I’ve done for you!”

Tumaz froze and stopped himself from shouting back again. His mouth shifted to a thin line. ‘I can’t tell her the truth about that. I don’t know what she would do then, especially in this new situation.’

Some of the mafia members began to make catcalls and dog whistles at the pair. Tumaz’s irritation shot up again, but Brenda’s shoulders sagged upon hearing them. Tumaz tried to end the conversation, but Brenda quickly shouted at him.

“Don’t you dare go forgetting! Four years ago, when Boss Zeine first suggested you do a loyalty program for a debt of one million shekels, you convinced him to pass it off to me! I spent more than two years being passed around in those brothels because you told me that you wanted to keep your sister safe! I did it all for you!” shouted Brenda, Tumaz felt an irritating shiver up his spine as he noticed more people paying attention. Some laughed at what Brenda openly revealed. ‘This fucking idiot’ “Well, she’s eighteen now, isn’t she? Only a year younger than when I had to. Time for her to pay her keep like I did for you. You should have known a day like this would come around. Do you want help from our posse or not? You know it’ll help. If we all pool our debts, and maybe I could give your sister some training so she’s prepared, then we could make it work somehow?”

Tumaz fought the urge to hit Brenda. He glared at her and clenched his teeth. “Look, I don’t know why you’re so insistent, but don’t bother me. I don’t want your help or our crew’s help with this. Besides which, you’re the . . .” He paused. Brenda looked ready to shed tears. ‘This stupid fuck wants my pity after she suggested my family pay this extortion? This piece of shit . . .’ “You are being annoying right now and I don’t want to talk to you.”

Brenda began to cry and shouted back. “You’re not listening or taking anything that I say seriously! How do you exp –”

Tumaz tuned Brenda out as best as he could and noticed Sarru heading for the double-doors to leave. ‘I didn’t notice him arrive down here. Maybe if I . . . maybe if I beg for his help, he would be willing to change the Boss’s mind on this?’

Tumaz sidestepped Brenda and moved to head outside. ‘How should I approach – oh for fuck’s sake!’

Brenda ran in front of him and put her arms on his shoulders to stop him.

“Are you listen –” Brenda was cut off.

Tumaz grabbed her shoulders and forcefully shoved into the nearest table. Brenda was so surprised that she stumbled and fell hard onto the table. The table proceeded to wabble and fall to the side causing her to fall along with it. Brenda fell to her side in a loud crunch noise and she cried out in pain. The fellow mafia members either gasped or laughed uproariously at the scene.

Tumaz quickly left to chase after Sarru. Exiting the double-doors, he looked around the dark streets. He looked around the people wearing various colored dress shirts, vests, jeans, and cowboy hats or sun hats and spotted Sarru walking a lengthy distance away nearing a dark alleyway passage. Tumaz ran after him across the streets.

‘Begging for his help to change Boss Zeine’s mind is the only idea I can think of right now!’

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Chapter 2: Marutuk Cmxcix-ula Sargon

His feet thudded against the cobble and dirt ground as he chased after Sarru. A thudding resounded in his chest and head as he neared the dark alleyway. As he ran into the alleyway, he spotted Sarru rapidly climbing a metallic ladder up a large building. Tumaz hid himself behind a crate of boxes until Sarru vanished upon reaching the top of the building and then proceeded to follow him up the cold, metallic ladder.

‘A secret rendezvous this late? This could be useful blackmail material to get him to help me.’

Tumaz spotted Sarru speaking to a blond-haired, blue-eyed woman with a pale complexion. Tumaz looked around and spotted a metallic shed atop the roof that seemed to be the entrance from within the building. He quickly ducked upon reaching the top, ran to the shed, and hid in the opposite direction of where they stood. Tumaz sat on one knee and attempted to assess the two from his hiding spot. Tumaz’s eyes widened upon spotting the U-shaped, half-moon birthmark upon the woman’s forehead denoting royal lineage.

‘Sarru has connections to multiple Zodian Nobles?’ thought Tumaz, a shiver ran up his spine. ‘If he has these connections, why does he bother with the Badcock Brand mafia and why not just live in the inner cities where it’s more prosperous for Zodian commoners?’

“Thank you for seeing me, Sargon,” said the strong feminine voice, Tumaz could almost make out a smile in the dim lighting. “How have you been?”

‘Sargon? What?’

“Cut the crap,” snapped Sarru, his tone rising as he spoke. “Why did you ask me to come here?”

He gaped at Sarru’s rudeness towards a Noble. Tumaz could see the blonde woman frown at his response. Tumaz could see her facial features shift into a scowl.

“That is no way to talk to someone, especially not a friend,” replied the blonde woman, “I understand that you’re upset, but I must ask that you refrain from –”

“Upset?!” interrupted Sarru, his voice evoking mirth. He shook his head and let out a bitter laugh. The blonde woman folded her arms. “That word doesn’t even begin to cover how I feel and it’s all because of your asshole grandfather! My entire family is dead because of yours!”

“Look, I didn’t come here to get into an argument,” said the blonde woman, her shoulders hunched and her posture straightened. “What I wanted was to ask if you were interested in helping me. I was assigned by my grandfather with a special task and I think if you were to help me, then maybe I could convince him to reinstate the Marutuk family name and have him restore your Noble status.”

‘Sarru use to be a Noble?’ thought Tumaz, images of the U-shaped scar on Sarru’s forehead flashed in his mind. ‘So . . . wait, is he trying to work with House Girsu in secret against that woman’s family?’

Sarru’s palms balled into fists and his posture stiffened. “You expect me to grovel to the monster who arranged my entire family to be murdered?! Are you fucking stupid?!”

“I’m just trying to find the best solution for both of us, what was done to your family was wrong, if you help then we can clear their name and exonerate –”

“Don’t act like my family was guilty of anything, when they were wiped out because of a bunch of stupid fucking rumors!” snapped Sarru, his body shook. The blonde girl’s lips formed a thin line. “There’s nothing you can do! Unless you’re able to reveal to the rest of the Noble Houses, which among them is the trickster bloodline foretold to bring forth the pink demon, the paranoia will continue and my family status will never be restored. So, leave me out of whatever this is, Mekia. Don’t contact me again!”

The blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman named Mekia unfolded her arms. Her scowl deepened.

“There is no way to identify and capture the specific family that has the trickster bloodline without persecution. I would be contributing to the specious rumors and massacres like what happened to your family.” said Mekia, she sighed and shook her head. “We only have five of the eight families left because of these purges, coups, and failed coup attempts every time a specific planet aligns with each of their respective magical cores. It seems like we’ll all kill each other before this supposed prophecy ever happens. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I hoped that you could help in undoing this and forging a path to real stability among the Noble families.”

“What the fuck is the point in asking me anything? I no longer have my powers and I was forced to take this commoner name by your grandfather when he renamed me in the Pink Slip, so what challenge do I pose to the Nobles?” snapped Sarru, his fists shook and his posture stiffened. “All I can do is live amongst these stupid savages to eke out an existence for myself. I don’t care what happens anymore to the Noble families, it’s no longer my concern. Unless the family with that cursed bloodline or the prophesized demon is found, I will never get anything back anyway!”

“I’m surprised at you, Sargon. I do not abide by you using such hateful terms towards the Nadirans and I thought that you knew better than that,” replied Mekia, she frowned at him and shook her head. “You’ve certainly changed for the worst. You use to be so much kinder. Are you proud of the hateful man that you’ve grown up to be?”

“Shut your fucking mouth! You have no idea what it has been like for me!” said Sarru, he snarled at Mekia. Mekia’s eyes seemed to dim as she gazed at him. “You were wrong about them, you know that? You said you grew-up among them when you were a kid, but I find that hard to believe. After living amongst these animals for so many years, I see them for the petty savages that they are! They kill themselves at higher rates more than whatever oppression the Zodians dealt them!”

A tense silence hung between them. Tumaz kept silent as he watched the two of them. Sarru seemed to be glaring, but Mekia’s facial features shifted to staring back impassively at him.

‘So much for begging for his help or seeking blackmail against him. I’d probably just put Amashi in danger, considering what he really thinks of us.’ thought Tumaz, his shoulders slouched. ‘I wish I could say I was surprised; I always felt an air of fakery from him that rubbed me the wrong way.’

 “You want to know what I’ve been up to Mekia? I’ve been making connections with House Girsu. I make money off of arranging their weapons sales to a major mafia group in this city filled with these fucking savages and I can finally live comfortably, while I watch a dumbass mafia leader tell one of his subordinates to sell his sister to a whorehouse as I rake in profits.” said Sarru, a tone of mirth in his voice. Tumaz felt his ire spike and felt a growing headache at Sarru’s words. He clenched his teeth and narrowed his eyes. Sarru continued. “I might be living in the bottom-city shithole of this stupid country, but at least I don’t have to worry about going hungry or feeling scared to die from some random attack like in the Commoner cities. No one knows me here and I don’t face persecution. I’m not risking that for anything.”

“How curious that you claim the people around you are savages and yet they don’t persecute you like the Zodian commoners of your former territories or how House Girsu’s Commoner cities use to do.” said Mekia, she clicked her tongue. “But your reasoning has sufficiently clarified your position. It seems this discussion was a waste of time for both of us. You may take your leave.”

“Fuck you, bitch!” shouted Sarru, before he turned away. He walked back to the metallic stairs. Tumaz heard him mutter aloud. “I’m not your fucking servant! I see right through your bullshit!”

“I no longer recognize your status as a Noble,” snapped Mekia, her tone colder than before. “You are no longer Marutuk Cmxcix-ula Sargon to me, but Fait Unisi Sarru. Should you ever enter any Noble territory, I will slay you myself in accordance with Draconian Law.”

Tumaz slowly moved back into the shadows as Sarru came closer. He appeared to ignore what she said to him. Sarru swiftly traveled down the stairs at the edge of the building and out of sight.

Tumaz’s posture slouched. ‘Good, I wasn’t notic –’

“You can come out now,” said Mekia, her tone brooking no room for argument. “Honestly, the fact that Sargon wasn’t able to spot you, really shows me how sloppy he’s become since the time of his Noble training. There’s no use in hiding, if you don’t reveal yourself then I will force you to.”

Tumaz clenched his teeth, but slowly rose to his feet from the shadows and walked into the dimly lit rooftop in front of the blonde woman. Tumaz felt a lodge in his throat and his heart skip a beat. The woman had a beautiful square-shaped face, clear-blue almost silverish eyes, and a toned physique; underneath a black, metallic jumpsuit, black boots, and black leather gloves.

“Uh . . . hello,” squeaked Tumaz, his face flushed and his tone uneven. He mentally kicked himself for how high-pitched his voice sounded. “Nice night, we’re having?”

Mekia’s lips twitched and she seemed to bite back a chuckle. She schooled her features, cleared her throat, and folded her arms before speaking. “Who do you work for?”

“What?”

“I will not repeat myself.”

Tumaz’s brows furrowed and he shifted his posture. “I . . . don’t work for anyone?”

Mekia snorted, shook her head slightly, and then replied. “Then, why were you spying on the two of us? Spill it out. Be warned, I will not tolerate lies.”

Tumaz opened his mouth and noticed she gazed at him with an expectant look. He shut his mouth and tilted his head slightly. ‘Why was she meeting a man ousted from Nobility in secret, to begin with?’

“No, I don’t have to tell you why I was here,” said Tumaz, his lips twitching upward as he noticed her jaw slacken and her eyes blink. “Are we finished?”

“Denying the inquiry of an officer of the Noblesse is an offense punishable by life imprisonment for a Nadiran,” snapped Mekia, her tone growing as cold as when she dismissed Sarru. “Do not be a fool. Tell me why you were here.”

“You’re not going to arrest me, because then there would be too many questions on what you were doing in the outskirts of House Girsu’s territory and why you were meeting someone who is in hiding from a possible death sentence by the Overseer,” said Tumaz, he kept his tone even and his posture straightened. ‘I hope what I surmised works to my advantage. I’m basically guessing some of this.’ “That would put Sarr – Sargon in jeopardy and fuel further paranoia among the Noble Houses, right? That’s something you seem to want to avoid. You obviously didn’t believe that the Nobles would ever hear about your secret meeting, which is why you had it here. That about sum it up?”

Mekia seemed to pale and her mouth hung agape. She quickly schooled her features and her lips twitched upward. “You overplayed your hand. What’s stopping me from simply killing you right here?”

Tumaz felt a shiver up his spine as he noticed her cold stare. She unfolded her arms and seemed ready to approach him. He breathed in deep. ‘Think fast.’

“So . . . I guess . . . I guess our lives don’t matter to you, after all? You were telling him all about . . . about how Zodians shouldn’t discriminate against us. But it seems to me that you don’t really care yourself.” said Tumaz, his tone croaking as he felt jitters rush through his body. Mekia’s eyes widened and she remained where she stood. Tumaz exhaled and continued. “You can be politically correct about how to address us, but I think a person reveals their true character the moment they choose to treat us different because we inconvenience them. You think you’re better than Sarr – than Sargon because of how he speaks about us, yet here you are ready to kill me because I don’t behave in the stereotypical image that you prefer. What? Did you get offended that I was cleverer than you expected?”

Mekia’s eyes flashed and her teeth clenched. Her mouth soon formed a thin line and she stared unblinking at Tumaz. Tumaz tried to keep his gaze steady and his posture firm.

“You have quite the sharp tongue,” said Mekia, she grimaced. “But you make a salient argument, I cannot take advantage of my position and kill you, while claiming to pursue equality between Zodian commoners and Nadirans.”

Tumaz felt his shoulders relax. He licked his lips. ‘Do I dare ask? This seems like a once in a lifetime chance. Wouldn’t I regret not trying?’

“That offer that you were making to Sarru – er – to Sargon,” said Tumaz, “how about giving me the chance?”

The blonde rolled her eyes and seemed to stifle a chuckle. “Sorry, but that offer was exclusively for Sargon, not you or anyone else. What would even make you an acceptable candidate for such a privileged position?”

“You won’t know what others can offer you, unless you give them the opportunity,” said Tumaz, ‘I need to choose my words carefully, I can’t let her think that I’m being adversarial any further.’ “Since he’s obviously not interested, why not give me a chance to prove myself to you?”

“I don’t know you,” said Mekia in a blunt tone, “And I have no reason to believe anything that you say to me. I’m not going to waste my time giving opportunities to a stranger, especially one who was snooping on me.”

“You don’t know me,” replied Tumaz, he nodded while keeping his voice even and respectful. “But Nadirans don’t really get opportunities to begin with. We’re still legally considered guest-workers in our own homeland and have a limit to how much we can make annually compared to Zodian commoners. If you’re serious about equality, won’t you please give me the opportunity?”

“You don’t know any of the details or the risks about the offer,” snapped Mekia, her eyes narrowed and she clicked her tongue. “The repercussions involve both legal and physical danger. I don’t know anything about your physical capabilities either, so I don’t even know if you can handle it.

“For all you know, I could be sending you to certain death.”

“I already put myself in harm’s way by working under the same mafia group that Sargon does,” said Tumaz, Mekia’s eyes widened. “So, put me through a test, if possible. And, let me be the judge of what I’m willing to risk.”

“Answer me this,” replied Mekia, she squinted at him. “Why do you want to do this? Give me the truthful answer. If I think you’re lying, we part ways and pretend we never met.”

“Money,” said Tumaz, she shook her head at his response. Tumaz quickly continued. “I need money for something important to me. I respectfully request that you not – that I don’t need to say anything further.”

“For all I know, you may have a gambling addiction or you want to bankroll some mafia activity to kill a rival group like what Sargon is doing,” said Mekia, she took a breath and exhaled. “And I honestly cannot trust someone whose motive is profit. If you were offered more money than what I pay you, what would stop you from betraying me or prevent you from quitting during crucial mission-sensitive situations that need to be resolved with expediency? Even if you are sincere, why should I risk trusting you?”

‘How do I proceed to answer that?’ thought Tumaz, a cold sweat moving down his spine. ‘I’m not sure how to provide a satisfactory answer, but here goes it . . .’

“Your hesitancy is due to trust. I answered you honestly. That’s the best that I can do. I did not hide my primary motive.” said Tumaz, he paused as she kept her gaze razor-focused on his eyes. He licked his lips and continued. “If you have any misgivings, I believe that we can work them out, so long as our communication remains honest with each other. I humbly ask that you please consider offering me this position.”

Mekia tilted her head slightly to the side. For a moment, she didn’t speak and a silence descended between them. Mekia’s eyes moved down and seemed to examine his physique before she returned to staring directly at him. Her gaze seemed to be gauging him for some unspecified purpose.

“If you truly wish to be given this opportunity,’ said Mekia, Tumaz could tell that she was choosing her words carefully and she seemed more pensive. “Then, . . . I want you to show me that you are serious about it. Impress me. Give me a good reason why you are even fit for this assignment.”

Tumaz blinked. “What?”

“You heard me and I will not repeat myself.”

‘How do I impress her and prove myself?’ thought Tumaz, ‘Maybe if I offer my thoughts on the politics of her social sphere?’

“How about I offer you my insights on the political issues of the Nobility?”

Mekia snorted and then spoke. “By all means, go ahead. I don’t expect anything brilliant though.”

“Humor me.”

Mekia shrugged. “Just get to it.”

Tumaz tamped down on his nerves and replied. “When looking beyond the trappings of wealth, amount of territory, training, and manpower – is there any fundamental difference in the purpose and morals between Noble families massacring each other for acquisition of resources and violent gangs massacring each other for control over small blocks of territory?”

Mekia opened her mouth to reply and then closed it. She blinked. “I suppose I could argue national interest, but the question seems to focus on the presupposed justifications and consequences of violence. I . . . can’t think of a difference off-hand. I must admit, I’ll have to take time to consider this question as the only distinguishing characteristic seems to be the level of rewards gained for committing violence.”

Mekia’s visage became pensive, her chest seemed to relax, her shoulders sagged, her posture loosened, and her gaze moved to the side as she simply stared at the darkness of the night sky. Her eyes roamed from the starry skies, to one of the constellation planets slowly moving closer to their planet, and then to the tops of the broken or unfinished infrastructure of the outskirts. Tumaz briefly glanced and saw her gaze was directed towards the dim light of Venus. A peculiarly comfortable silence hung between the two strangers. Tumaz felt the cold wind of the night sky softly graze his cheeks and the nape of his neck. Mekia refocused her attention towards him.

“I accept that you met my challenge and passed, so here is what I will do,” said Mekia, her posture straightening. Tumaz perked up and focused his attention on her next words. “I shall allow you the opportunity to work for me under three non-negotiable stipulations:

“First, you will be under a probationary period in which I gauge your work ethic in serving my goals. If I am ever unsatisfied with your efficacy towards my assignments, then I am permitted to kill you at any time for any reason. Second, you will sign a secret covenant in which you submit your body, mind, soul, and freedom to me. Obviously, signing my covenant means you are to obey me and all of my orders without question. Third, you are never to divulge any of my secrets shared with you to anyone. I’d prefer to enforce this as a clause in the covenant that you will be signing, but the unfortunate reality is that if you were to either spill my secrets accidentally or under torture, you would potentially die unnecessarily and it would prevent you from correcting any misbehavior or mistake on your own. There could be situations where it was beyond your control as well. Therefore, the third stipulation must be a voluntary oath by you to guard my secrets. Any questions?”

“And how much will I be paid?”

Mekia gave him a measured gaze. “2500 Drachmas, per each mission.”

‘The legal limit for what Nadirans can be paid is 100 Drachmas per month, which translates to 100,000 Shekels per month amounting to 1.2 million Shekels a year,’ thought Tumaz, ‘A single Drachma is worth 100 Shekels. If she’s sincerely offering 2500 Drachmas per mission, then I should make about 1.5 million Shekels after six missions and 3 million Shekels after 12 missions. The remaining debt from Boss Zeine will only be around 1.5 million by next year if these missions are monthly assignments, which is more manageable to pay off.’

“Alright, done,” replied Tumaz, Mekia’s eyebrows furrowed. “That is, I accept the probationary offer.”

Mekia nodded and handed him a note hidden in one of her gloves. Tumaz took it and noticed a set of instructions.

“Meet me in that location in two days and we will proceed forward with this arrangement,” said Mekia, she gazed directly into his eyes and seemed to hold his gaze. “Memorize that note and then destroy it. Do not be late. I do not tolerate tardiness.”

Tumaz smiled and nodded. Mekia made a shooing motion. “If you have no further questions, you may leave.”

Tumaz frowned. “Shouldn’t we . . . exchange our names?”

“No, I’ll know if you’re truly serious in two days,” replied Mekia, she turned to leave in the opposite direction. She continued her shooing motion. “Whatever name you give me right now could be a lie and not knowing your name would be advantageous for reasons I will not specify. We will formally introduce ourselves to each other in two days. Again, do not be late.”

Tumaz held down his irritation at her gesture and moved to the metallic staircase on the side of the building to leave.

---

Chapter 3: Erra Mil-Ubis Damkina

Mekia double-checked her uniform in the mirror before leaving her room. She examined her silver-white jumpsuit, white gloves, and black boots that were shaped differently from last night. She fastened the customary red cape around her neck with a gold-plated circular button to keep it firmly in place on her right shoulder. She took a moment to re-examine the red sheath containing her sword connected to the thin blue belt; the sheath was worn around the left side of her hips with a long red and white, ball tassel draped over the sheath from the belt. Mekia proceeded to put her decorative red half-kaunakes, a woolen-mantle placed on her left shoulder opposite of her cape, as per Zodian tradition for Noblesse officers. ‘Okay, I morphed the shape of the boots enough that people shouldn’t notice and changed the color of my battle jumpsuit. So long as both Damkina and Zawn don’t discover this ability, I should be fine. There should be no discrepancies between my time off of my schedule and my time spent in the outskirts of Girsu. They shouldn’t suspect anything is amiss and I managed to adjust my sleep schedule for the planned trips.’

She exited her personal quarters. Mekia’s boots echoed off of the ceramic floor with her red cape bellowing behind her. Her eyes briefly glanced at the family portraits of Erra House. She grimaced as she neared the more recent family portraits. Mekia quickly walked past the sole portrait of the deceased former Lady of Erra House; the mother of her step-sister. She scowled seeing the sole portrait of her own mother, Elil Cmxcix-uttuall Meltia, the second and current Lady of House Erra. She hurried her steps past the family portrait of Lord Erra, her mother, her step-sister Erra Mil-ubis Damkina, and her half-sister, Erra Mil-usen Zawn.

‘All I did to get her affection when I was a child and she showers it upon Zawn so easily . . .’ thought Mekia, she kept her outward expression blank. ‘Well, Grandfather said it was appropriate and that I should be grateful to even have my current position in House Erra at his behest. I suppose Mother could only ever love the one that has the proper pedigree.’

She ignored the pang in her chest. Her mind flooded with images of the night that her mother gazed at her with unvarnished fear, the black smoke that invaded the clouds from the rising fire that had spread, and her grandfather sealing away the special magic given to her by her late grandmother. ‘There is nothing I can do to change what happened or how she feels. She made her decision when she married and had another daughter.’  

A rancid stench wafted in the air. Mekia increased her pace to avoid the putrid stench that was along the corner wall nearby the portraits. ‘One of the servants must’ve neglected to clean thoroughly enough after leaving a bucket there. I’m glad I don’t bear the Uppaz middle name.’

Mekia moved through the corridor of portraits into the grand hallway. Mekia arrived outside the personal quarters of her step-sister and future heiress of House Erra. She placed her white-gloved hand on the decorative scorpion door knocker atop the large mahogany door and gave it three consecutive strikes. She let go of the door knocker, took a step back from the threshold of the mahogany door, and folded her arms behind her back beneath her red cape to await her mistress. She stood motionless for several minutes and merely waited for the doors to open.

“Mekia, you’ve returned!” said a feminine voice from behind her. Mekia’s posture stiffened, but she refrained from turning around to speak to the voice.

The person behind her moved to stand in front of her and smiled at her. Her heart-shaped face and matching complexion obscured the door to her mistress’s personal quarters. Her blonde hair was frazzled and unkempt; her outward attire consisted of a grey-colored pajama shirt and pajama pants with a green scorpion logo on the back. Mekia suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.

“I have informed you an innumerable number of times before that I cannot speak informally while on official duty, Lady Erra,” replied Mekia, the blonde woman opposite of her rolled her eyes. “Please step aside from the Heiress’s door as I must remain attentive to my daily tasks without interruption.”

The younger woman put her hands on her hips and moved her face inches away from Mekia’s by leaning forward. Mekia moved back involuntarily and suppressed a scowl. Her arms moved to her sides from the interruption.

“I don’t feel like it, Mekia,” said the younger woman, her visage shifting to an impish smile. Her crystal-blue eyes, which reminded Mekia of their maternal grandfather, seemed to harbor a twinkle. “In fact, I feel like being a contrarian to your demands. What are you going to do about it?”

“Please refrain from this frivolity,” said Mekia in a clipped tone. “You have been taught better than this, Zawn.”

The younger and slightly shorter blonde-haired woman smiled back. She suddenly charged at Mekia. At first, Mekia began to walk backwards to avoid her half-sister, but then turned to flee as Zawn gave chase and began running futilely in a circle. Mekia grimaced and felt the urge to yell at her.

“I order you to stooop . . .!” said Zawn, enunciating the word ‘stop’ slowly.

Mekia’s shoulders shook, before she stopped running and turned around. Zawn proceeded to tackle her with a fierce hug. Mekia held her footing as Zawn pressed her left cheek on Mekia’s right shoulder and encircled her by the waist into a fierce hug. Mekia held back a frustrated sigh as Zawn hugged her and Mekia could hear her younger half-sister sigh in obvious contentment. Zawn finally broke apart from her, removing her hands from Mekia, and stood in front of her with a smile.

“Guess what?”

Mekia felt herself hold back the urge to roll her eyes for the second time. She took a deep breath and exhaled before responding. ‘I hope my tone doesn’t sound too annoyed.’

“What is it?”

“I. Love. Yooou.” replied Zawn, slowly enunciating each word individually as she was smiling at Mekia. Mekia felt her chest twitch and her heart soar before she suppressed those feelings. “Anyway, that was all! I’ll go back to my room and prepare for the day now!”

“Must you always continue with this silly routine every month?”

Zawn giggled before she replied. “If you want me to stop, make me.”

Mekia pursed her lips before she replied. “That would not be possible as I work for your Noble House and remain under the authority of you, your family, and especially your elder sister.”

“So dramatic, Mekia,” said Zawn, she rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You take the rules too literally. You are my sister, not just her. If I want to say that I love you, I will.

“If you really wanted me to stop, you just tell me to and I would. But you don’t, because I know you and I know you secretly enjoy it.”

“Heiress Erra has instructed you to stop and yet you have persisted.” said Mekia, she ignored her chest feeling light as a feather from Zawn’s words. “Am I to surmise that this is just a prank that you enjoy, then?”

“No, you may not surmise that,” said Zawn, her tone evoking a strange mix of sharp and sing-song. She folded her arms. “I persist because I am sincere.”

The mahogany doors slammed open and a young woman with tousled, unkempt chestnut-hair wearing the same silver-grey set of pajamas containing the same green scorpion insignia as Zawn’s attire leaned on the threshold. She scowled at Zawn, then gave a curt nod to Mekia, and returned her attention to Zawn.

“Would it kill you to not do this for just one month, Zawn?” said the woman as she slouched on the threshold of the mahogany door. She stretched one of her arms out and used the other one to cover her mouth as she yawned. She put her arms back to her sides and then continued. “It is completely unbecoming and I already explained to you that I don’t have time for this. Do you want me to speak with your grandfather about flaunting my authority? Perhaps he’ll be receptive to giving you a restrictive name-change to keep you in line.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” snapped Zawn, she had turned her head and scowled at the chestnut-haired woman. “And grandfather won’t do that with the competition for his successor coming up. If you limit my abilities this close to preparations, I could get kidnapped and taken hostage to extract concessions by one of the other Noble Houses. You know better than to risk that.”

“Oh for . . . look, I just woke-up,” replied the woman by the threshold. She scratched her temples and then spoke again. “Stop being annoying and go get yourself ready for the day. You still have to finish your schooling before you’re any good to me and Mekia has her obligations towards me to attend to.”

Zawn’s eyes narrowed and she clenched her teeth. She turned her body toward the chestnut-haired woman’s direction and replied. “Well, maybe if someone wasn’t waking me up from their screaming practically all night at the other end of the hall and refusing to elaborate or ask anyone for help, then I’d be more receptive. Instead, you push me aside and I keep hearing you scream as if you’re being killed by someone. So, how about you share with us what’s going on and then maybe I’ll listen to you, Damkina?”

Mekia’s eyes widened and she turned her full attention to Damkina. Damkina’s onyx eyes flashed.

“I ordered you not to tell anyone that!” snapped Damkina, her warm ivory complexion turning a shade puce. “You have some gall flaunting my authority! I suppose it is easy since nothing is ever expected of you, besides marrying to further the scorpion bloodline! Perhaps, I’ll have Father put an additional clause to our family covenant to bind your blabbering mouth?!”

“That is a low blow! You keep screaming like a fucking banshee and expect me to say nothing while I wake-up every night frightened from it?!” said Zawn, her lips curled in a grimace. “Look, if you don’t want my help, then ask for Mekia’s help. Part of her job is to attend to your needs. So, if anything, you should be thanking me for speaking openly about it!”

“I, Erra Mil-Ubis Damkina, hereby order you to leave and attend to your assigned duties for the day,” replied Damkina in a clipped tone. “You are not to speak aloud in my presence for the rest of the day and do not think that you will get out of this by getting either Mother or Father to dismiss your misbehavior. You are dismissed.”

Zawn let out an exasperated sigh, gave Mekia a brief wave to signify a goodbye, and proceeded to stomp back to her personal quarters. Mekia responded with a quick nod before returning her attention to the Erra Heiress.

“She is such a spoiled brat,” said the chestnut-haired woman, she clicked her tongue. “Anyway, come inside and start brewing my coffee. I need to focus after that nonsensical exchange.”

“Of course, Heiress Erra,” said Mekia, proceeding to walk beyond the threshold after Damkina walked back inside her personal quarters. Mekia shut the mahogany door behind them and placed her sword on the sword holster by the door.

Mekia walked over to the porcelain dresser that had the percolator, pitch of water, and packets of ground coffee atop it. Mekia took the water and poured some into the percolator; she proceeded to cut open two packets of coffee and rip them open before dumping the contents into the percolator. She tossed the packets into the rubbish bin and then snapped her fingers to heat up the percolator from the bottom with her fire magic. After counting the usual minutes, she turned her off the fire magic in her gloved hand and began to pour two cups in two of the tea cups on the dresser. She placed them on two empty saucers, added the correct dosage of sugar and sweetener for Damkina’s coffee, and carried them to Damkina’s personal office.

‘Will I just be a servant to others for all of my life?’

Mekia ignored the thought as she placed the two saucers on Damkina’s desk and proceeded to sit down on the chair in front of the desk. A door to the far right opened and Damkina walked in fully dressed in a custom-tailored, traditional Zodian attire for Noblesse. A long-sleeved dark burgundy tunic made of linen with tassels of a slightly darker shade across the entirety of the edges from top to bottom; covering the top of her tunic was a pure white fringed shawl drapery with a green decorative image of a scorpion on the back. Her hair was set in a bun with small, circular golden rings wound in a tight decorative band on her forehead. Her cheeks were given a light, blush makeup to add to the Noble gravitas. Damkina walked to the back of her desk and sat on the plush seat before taking hold of the tea cup and saucer to take a sip of the coffee that was prepared for her. For several minutes, the pair wordlessly drank their coffee and enjoyed the silence.

Upon finishing her coffee and setting it aside, Damkina’s onyx eyes met Mekia’s blue ones and she smiled. Mekia straightened her posture having already finished her own coffee and setting it aside.

“So, we simply must catch-up, what did Lord Elil wish to discuss with you last week?” questioned Damkina, a smile on her facial features. Her onyx eyes never wavering from Mekia’s blue eyes. “I can scarcely imagine why he would suddenly call for you outside of ceremonial gatherings. He has never hesitated to show that he has no fondness for you.”

Mekia kept her expression blank and held back the urge to grimace. Mekia replied, “He offered me grudging appreciation for my efforts in gaining the honor to be head of House Erra’s military and removed the restrictions on my Noble physical abilities. Bullets should no longer harm me and my physical prowess has increased. Also, I now seem to be able to use fire magic for more than just mundane chores and enchanting my blade with fire.”

Damkina tilted her head slightly. “He did not offer you any other enhancements?”

“How do you mean, my Lady?”

“Did he not offer you a self-mastery form?” questioned Damkina, her tone holding a cutting edge. Her onyx eyes fixated on Mekia’s facial features as she leaned back on her chair. “And please, do not be modest. We are family, after all.”

“He essentially told me that I would never be worthy of such an honor,” said Mekia, her tone slightly pained. “Since Zawn’s birth, he said that he no longer needs to be as concerned for my wellbeing.”

Damkina’s visage seemed to relax and Mekia could see her lips twitch slightly upwards before she schooled her features. Her onyx eyes met Mekia’s once again as she enlaced her fingers together on her desk.

“That is . . . perhaps for the best,” said Damkina, she nodded to Mekia. “We all must learn to live within our respective stations for the betterment of society.”

Mekia ignored the cold pit in her stomach and kept her visage expressionless. ‘Well, you certainly know how to lessen my qualms at the prospect of killing you, Damkina.’

“Nevertheless, it is good that he has rewarded you for your loyalty and service to us,” said Damkina, she straightened her posture. “Onto more pertinent matters, did your grandfather . . . speak at all of me or my father’s stance with my inheriting the rulership of House Erra?”

“Unfortunately, he made no mention of it,” replied Mekia, she leaned back in her own chair. “However, knowing his reputation, he will likely demand that your father sire another heir with my mother until a male child is born to inherit House Erra.”

Damkina grimaced and parted her hands to ball them into fists atop her desk. “Is there no way to convince the Overseer to change such appallingly antiquated views?”

“The Overseer gained the moniker ‘Defender of Shoebb’ when he was around our age for a reason. He will never relent on his traditionalist views and he has never been ambiguous on that point, either.” said Mekia, she noticed Damkina’s left eye twitch for a half-second. “The Overseer seeks two primary aims during his rule; for all remaining Noble Houses to have future heirs marry a member of House Elil and for the Houses to be ruled by Lords, as per patriarchal tradition. There are no remaining heirs of his for you to marry and you wouldn’t give-up the rulership of your Noble House to a man that you would marry regardless.”

“What can be done then?!” snarled Damkina, banging her right hand on her desk. She put her hands on her temples and leaned on her desk with her elbows. Her gaze turned towards her desk as if staring past it. “Once father passes, what can I do, if the Overseer will not accept me as the next heir in line? How am I to safeguard my family’s interests?”

‘I neither care, nor do I view this issue as my problem.’ thought Mekia, ‘Just drop dead, if you can’t handle it, you fucking weakling. Actually, . . . maybe I can have some fun with this?’

“Well, there is a simple solution, but I’m unsure of how . . . ethical, it would be.” said Mekia, Damkina placed her hands back on the desk, returned her gaze to Mekia’s visage, and leaned her face closer. “Perhaps . . . convince your father and my mother to sire another child. If it is born a male, then have it declared the next heir of House Erra, ask for exclusive rights to educate the child into their rights of heirship, and arrange a marriage between yourself and the boy. Once you’ve groomed it through education, you’ll present the boy as the next Lord of Erra, while he exists merely to serve you as your figurehead, while you rule the House in de facto.”

Damkina’s left eye twitched and her cheeks turned a shade green. “Have you taken leave of your senses?! That’s disgusting, Mekia! I will never groom a child nor arrange one’s birth just to legitimize my own rule! Furthermore, I want to be officially acknowledged as ruler of my House, so we may move past these anachronistic traditions. We must find a way to convince the Overseer to move past these sexist beliefs, not uphold them!”

Mekia shrugged. “You asked for my advice and I gave it. He will never relinquish his beliefs in patriarchy, because it would be an additional threat to his own power. The most expedient way to get what you want would be what I just proposed.”

“There is surely a better way that doesn’t violate ethical boundaries.” replied Damkina, her composure returning. She enlaced her fingers once again and propped them under her chin whilst resting her elbows on her desk. “What of the prophecy? Did he mention anything about it during the meeting? Perhaps, . . . we may find something of use?”

“He never once spoke of the prophecy at all,” said Mekia, she rested her head onto the back of the chair. “Is it truly beneficial to focus your attentions on such a quirk of fancy?”

Damkina blinked and her shoulders slumped. “I see . . . so he didn’t mention anything about the contents or any possible new interpretations of the prophecy to you?”

Mekia’s eyes narrowed. “No, he did not. Even if he had made a new interpretation like his predecessors, it would mean nothing until events actually bore fruit. May I inquire as to why you are suddenly curious about the prophecy? Do you fear House Erra will face the next generation of specious rumors and persecution?”

“I . . .” Damkina trailed off, her onyx eyes gazed at Mekia’s blue ones. She took a deep breath and exhaled. “I, Erra Mil-Ubis Damkina, hereby order you to never divulge what I am about to tell you to anyone.”

Mekia nodded. ‘Too bad for you, I no longer feel any magical core restriction thanks to the old fool giving me free rein to lie.’

Damkina cleared her throat and her eyes briefly flicked over to her hands before returning to gaze as her. Damkina opened her mouth and then shut it. A silence descended between them and then Damkina took a few deep breaths, exhaled after each breath, and gazed back at her hands. She moved her right hand to her forehead to rub her forehead with her four fingers and thumb for several minutes before returning it back onto the desk. Damkina suddenly straightened her posture, gazed at Mekia directly in the eyes once again, and opened her mouth . . . only to close it again to stare at her with a pensive expression.

‘Ordinarily, I would be annoyed by these stupid antics,’ thought Mekia, ‘but now, I’m curious as to what this is about. How to prod the information from her?’

Mekia cleared her throat causing Damkina to hold back a flinch. Mekia straightened her posture and spoke. “Does this have anything to do with the . . . night terrors that Zawn mentioned earlier?”

Damkina paled at her words. She opened her mouth and then shut it again before nodding in response to Mekia’s question. Damkina’s eyes began to water and she began to blink them back before they became tears. Mekia’s eyes narrowed.

“I . . .” began Damkina, she took a shuddering breath and exhaled before once again gazing at Mekia in the eyes. Mekia felt her posture straighten once again. “I think that I’m the pink demon of prophecy . . .”

Mekia’s eyes widened and her mouth hung agape. Damkina swallowed as if a lump was caught in her throat and grimaced as she stared back at Mekia. There was silence between them for nearly a minute.

“Stop laughing!” cried Damkina, after Mekia leaned back onto her seat and burst into raucous laughter. Damkina’s cheeks burned red, she gritted her teeth, and her eyebrows furrowed. Tears streamed down Mekia’s cheeks and her arms began to hold her stomach as her laughter continued. Damkina sat up from her chair and stomped her right foot on the ceramic floor. “I order you to stop laughing at me!”

Mekia began to make a choking noise as her laughter abated. Mekia took a few deep breathes and exhaled. She rubbed her neck and tried to appear in pain from Damkina’s order.

“I order you to rise from your seat!”

Mekia forced herself to stand and gaze at her step-sister. She heard a sharp, snapping noise and immediately felt a harsh stinging sensation on her cheek. She gingerly touched her left cheek and shook her head to focus more clearly on Damkina.

“Despite your loyalty, it seems your mental acuity will always be of common stock when it comes to pertinent matters!” thundered Damkina, her eyes reddened from tears trailing down her visage. Her cheeks showing stains of her ruined makeup. Mekia rubbed her sore ribs from her laughter and schooled her features back to a neutral expression. Damkina continued. “Leave now! I do not wish to see you for the rest of the day!”

Mekia turned and left without a word. She grabbed her sword from the holster on the way out. Her lips twitched upward after leaving the threshold of Damkina’s personal quarters and she hastily walked to see to her assigned duties for the day.

Mekia’s white-gloved hand briefly touched the red mark left by Damkina’s assault. Her visage remained blank and her mind raced. ‘I will make you suffer for every indignity you and your idiotic family have forced upon me, one-hundred millionfold.’

---

Chapter 4: Brenda Clay Zland

Amashi Mazud Zudu opened the door to her family’s bungalow. She flinched and jumped backwards when Brenda Clay Zland forcibly shoved the door open and stepped inside before slamming the door shut behind her. Her narrowed eyes darted around the room with her teeth clenched.

“Uh, hello, Brenda?” said Amashi, she blinked and slowly backed away from Brenda. “What . . . brings you here? Tumaz usually doesn’t invite –”

“Where is Tumaz?!” snapped Brenda, her eyes finally locked onto Amashi’s visage. Her right hand moved to grab one of Amashi’s forearms.

Amashi quickly backed away at a faster pace. She turned her body to the side and pointed her thumb and pointer finger down the small hallway. “He’s in the kitchen, washing-up. We just had dinner and –”

“Never mind that!” said Brenda, she again moved closer to grab Amashi, and Amashi backed away again. “You’ll be coming with me. We need to get you acquainted with –”

“What’s going on, Amash –?” Tumaz stopped speaking upon spotting Brenda reaching for Amashi’s forearm.

Tumaz dropped the washcloth that he was using to clean his hands and walked over to his younger sister at a brisk pace. His boots thundered on the carpet atop the hardwood floor. Tumaz grabbed Amashi’s forearm from the other side.

“Please get behind me,” muttered Tumaz, Amashi’s eyes widened at the desperation that she undoubtedly heard in his tone. Amashi quickly moved behind Tumaz as he let go of her. Tumaz turned his attention to Brenda and folded his arms. “What the fuck do you want and why did you come here?”

Brenda balled her hands into fists, her arms shook, and she glared at Tumaz. Tumaz kept his expression blank and simply waited. Amashi held one of Tumaz’s upper-forearms with both hands and peeked beyond his shoulder.

“Stop talking to me like this!” cried Brenda, her eyes watered. “After everything I did for you . . . for us, you should be thanking me! Why are you acting like such an asshole to me?!”

‘Must you constantly insist on annoying me?’ thought Tumaz, but kept quiet. ‘How do I convince her to leave without causing any further ruckus?’

“Look, did you just come here to whine about yourself or do you actually have a reason to be here?” said Tumaz, he forced himself not to roll his eyes. Brenda briefly gaped at his response with her eyes wide, before she returned to clenching her teeth and glaring at him. Tumaz continued. “If you have nothing else to say, then go away already.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” cried Brenda, her cheeks turned puce and her arms shook even greater. “How about ‘hey Brenda, I’m sorry for pushing you into a table, two days ago?’ or ‘hey Brenda, how are you? I hope you weren’t hurt?’ or something like that! But, you just . . . just . . .”

Tumaz leaned his face forward slightly. “Do you have a point to make or something? Because if not, then leave.”

Brenda’s entire body began to shake after his words. Tears began to spill down her cheeks.

‘Hopefully, that means she got the fucking message and fucking leaves us alone.’

He felt a tap on his shoulder and heard Amashi whisper at his left ear. “Don’t you think that you’re being cruel here? I don’t exactly know what is going on, but can’t you be nicer about whatever it is?”

Tumaz whispered back. “Just trust me on this and let me handle it, please.”

He heard Amashi’s sigh softly, but ignored it. Tumaz watched as Brenda began to openly cry. She moved a shaky arm upward and pointed it at him.

“You’re coming with me!” cried Brenda, her shout echoing a little. “You’ve been disrespecting me and treating me like shit! Why didn’t you come to apologize to me yesterday after shoving me?! I waited all day!”

“Can you just stop with –?” Tumaz was interrupted.

“No! You have to come with me!” said Brenda, she wiped her tears with her other arm and glared at him. Her puffy, reddened eyes held a smoldering pain within them. “Why can’t you just get it through your dense skull to just listen to me?! Outside with me, now!”

“Look, I am not in the mood for –”

“Our posse is waiting outside, so if you don’t come,” replied Brenda, cutting Tumaz mid-sentence again. “Then . . . then, I’ll convince them to drag the both of you outside. So, come on! You know it’s for the best.”

Tumaz turned to Amashi and muttered. “Once she and I are out the door, I’ll be sure to lock it from the inside. Get to your room and be sure to lock it. Please do not come out of there until you hear my voice. I’ll . . . I’ll explain when they’re gone, I’d prefer you hear it from me first.”

“I . . . okay,” replied Amashi, she grimaced. “Please don’t take long. Be safe.”

Amashi quickly headed further inside and Tumaz turned to follow Brenda out the front door. After opening it, Brenda seemed to lean on the front door with her arms folded and outside Tumaz could see the image of three others in various cowboy attire. He unfolded his arms and turned to Brenda.

“Lead the way,” said Tumaz, gesturing to the other companions in the posse awaiting them.

Brenda glared for a moment before heading outside first. Tumaz quickly took the inside door handle and flipped it into the lock position before closing it behind him.

‘Glad I had the key in my pocket. Hopefully, these idiots don’t try anything.’

“Tumaz!” bellowed one voice, their tone jovial. “Ah . . . your sister didn’t come out with you?”

Tumaz surveyed the other three members of his five-band posse. He walked over to them and calmly waved. Tumaz observed Alexia Yiet Zarquni, Joe Voert Zoet, and Brian Woguni Zat in various cowboy attire. Alexia wore a lengthy dark skirt instead of slacks unlike Brenda. Tumaz spotted gun holsters with the new revolvers attached to them.

‘They probably didn’t bring those for me, but I better try to de-escalate regardless,’ thought Tumaz, ‘Most likely, Alexia convinced Brenda and these two idiots to show off the new weapons in order to convince me that whatever scheme they have planned is safer than it actually is.’

“Hello everyone,” said Tumaz, he attempted to keep his voice as cordial as possible. He nodded at each of them. “Brenda kept badgering me until I came out. She didn’t mention you three were waiting outside until after yelling a lot.”

Alexia rolled her eyes and the other two shook their heads. Brenda glared at Tumaz and replied. “Do you have to say it like that?!”

“Let it go,” said Alexia, almost sounding like a command. Brenda turned to glaring at the ground and didn’t reply. Alexia turned to gaze at Tumaz. “So, after that display two days ago, Boss Zeine saw fit to make us keep tabs to see how you plan on paying him back, since he didn’t think Brenda would be able to do it alone.”

Tumaz briefly turned to Brenda and raised an eyebrow before resuming his focus on the other three. “This is honestly the first that I’ve heard of Boss Zeine ordering tabs on me.”

“We weren’t supposed to tell you,” replied Alexia, an impish smile forming on her lips. “But, we’re friends, so what does it matter? Anyway, while Brenda was screaming her head off at you, the three of us worked out a plan to pool all of our loyalty program debts together to pay it all off to Boss Zeine.”

“We checked the numbers and we should be able to pay it all off in about three years with you assisting Brenda with the new bounties posted against the other mafia groups,” said Brian, a smile on his visage. “The collective debts we’d all have are approximately 5,750,000 shekels. My loyalty program is 750,000 shekels, Voert’s is 500,000 shekels, and your family’s is 4.5 million shekels.”

Joe Voert nodded. Brian continued. “Since Alexia and Brenda already went through the loyalty program, they get higher payments for any bounties they collect monthly. If you work with Brenda and Alexia hunts them on her own, we’d ideally make nine-hundred thousand shekels in twelve months, if both Brenda and Alexia get payments of high bounties of seventy-five thousand shekels each month. You would make thirty-five thousand shekels for any high bounties, but if Brenda sells them for you by claiming those heads as her kills, then you make seventy-five thousand per bounty despite the money technically being Brenda’s. Now, I only work on distribution and Voert only works as a late-night barkeeper, and that’s just fifty-thousand annually from me and ten-thousand annually from Voert. So, if Brenda and Alexia can keep selling high-end bounties and your sister works in those high-end brothels, then we’ll make about one million, nine-hundred and ten thousand shekels and the remaining collective debt will be three million, eight-hundred and forty-thousand shekels. So, in roughly three years, we’ll pay it all off.”

“Hold on,” said Brenda, her brows furrowed as she gazed at Brian. “That’s bullshit. I made twenty-five thousand shekels per month and then after a year, I got a pay raise of fifty-thousand per month at the high-end place I worked at. So how can it be only that much, if Amashi would be making twenty-five thousand a month?”

“Ah, I checked it out,” said Joe Voert, causing the posse to turn their attention to him. He shook his head at Brenda. “Unfortunately, your information was outdated Brenda, my contacts tell me and I even asked Sir Sarru and he confirmed that it’s only fifteen-thousand for someone as old as Amashi’s age. Ever since they got younger girls working there about six months after you left, the demand for girls around eighteen or older dropped and now the wealthier Zodian commoners only pay for younger girls.”

“There’s no law or anything against it?” asked Brenda, she looked around at the three of them. Her mouth curling into a frown. “I thought they couldn’t do that legally? That’s what the people at the brothel that I worked at told me. I know there were some younger ones working there, but I thought the Zodians would shut down the place if the Nobles found out?”

“Ah . . . not exactly,” said Voert, he sighed before he continued. Alexia and Brian gave him curious looks. “There was a trial and one of the Nobles of House Girsu gave an edict in accordance with Draconian Law made by the Overseer. They said that . . . uh, the laws for anything related to brothels, including age, applied only to citizens and not all residents. People originally assumed it meant all residents, but it doesn’t. No Zodian commoner came forth to appeal on our people’s behalf, so the edict stays in effect.”

“So, because we’re legally considered guest-workers,” said Tumaz, he grimaced. He felt a burning sensation in his chest and his throat felt like a lump was caught in it. “Any children of ours don’t have the same legal protections. If I’m understanding correctly, none of us do . . .”

“So, what’s preventing us from being kidnapped and forced into brothels by enemy mafia?” asked Brenda, her visage aghast. “What do we do then?”

Joe Voert and Alexia both shrugged. Brian shook his head.

“Actually, this could be useful,” said Brian, the posse turned their attention to him. “Instead of putting our posse’s lives at risk with bounty hunting, we could knab a few people either in our own turf or enemy turf, maybe some of the homeless, and make money off them by sending them to low-end brothels?”

Brenda’s visage turned green, while Alexia and Joe Voert gave pensive looks. Tumaz scowled at Brian.

“I’m not ever going to participate in something like that.” said Tumaz, his voice holding a tone of finality. “If you ever plan something like that, keep me out of it.”

Brian held his hands up. “Look, it was just a suggestion. Less risk for us, y’know?”

“We’ll consider it as a last resort.” said Alexia, nodding to Brian. She held her gaze at him. “And only as a last resort, are we clear?”

Brian nodded in response. Alexia’s visage relaxed. She turned her attention to Tumaz.

“Anyway, as you can see, we’ve all put a lot of thought into it,” said Alexia, her chocolate-brown eyes gazed directly at Tumaz’s dark eyes. “And, I know that Brenda can be overbearing at times, but she does mean well. How about we all pool our resources and make this work like usual? I know you’re probably feeling crazy about the debt, but we can all work together and you’ll have the most to gain, so how about it?”

‘This idiotic scheme will never work,’ thought Tumaz, ‘Getting a bounty worth 75,000 shekels is rare. Obtaining heads like that without injury or death is highly unlikely. If I’m putting my life at risk, my best bet is still the deal with that Noblewoman.’

“No, but thank you,” said Tumaz, his tone holding firm. Alexia’s eyes flashed before she schooled her features. Voert and Brian gazed at him in shock. Brenda scowled at him. “I already told Brenda, but I guess that she was too dumb to understand, so I’ll tell you all here; I want to handle this by myself.”

“What do you think you’re doing?!” snapped Brenda, she bristled at his comments about her. “What, you have some magic scheme up your ass or something? You know this is for the best, so stop being stubborn and let’s all work together.”

“I believe I made it abundantly clear that I’m not interested,” said Tumaz, he sighed and shook his head. “If that was all?”

“Brenda won’t be able to hunt and kill enemies without you, she needs your skills to collect those bounties,” said Brian, he glared at Tumaz. “And without her selling those bounties at the higher loyalty rates, we could all be set back a year or more, think carefully about this, Tumaz.”

Tumaz couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. He replied. “Am I going to have to repeat myself forever with all of you? Besides, you’ll all be able to pay your debts faster without me.”

“Except Boss Zeine and Sir Sarru judges each of our groups collectively,” said Alexia, she scowled at him. “If you’re not able to make that downpayment, and we have no idea what you’re up to, what exactly are we going to do when you come-up short on the shekels to give him?”

“Either have him remove me from being assigned to this posse or just leave me alone to deal with this debt alone, alright?” said Tumaz, he cocked his head to the side. “If there is nothing else?”

Alexia shot him a wroth expression and the other two appeared hesitant. Brenda resumed glaring at him. Alexia’s expression soon calmed and she kept her eyes on Tumaz. “Alright, Tumaz, if that’s how you want it. But . . . you had better not hold us back or we will have to do what must be done to keep ourselves safe. Do you understand?”

Tumaz nodded. ‘I definitely can never trust them again after this. Maybe it’s dumb to hedge everything on some Noblewoman that I barely know, but I will never allow Amashi to be forced into prostitution under any circumstances. I’d sooner die than let that happen.’

Tumaz walked backwards and then turned around. He quickly opened the door to his family bungalow with the key in his pocket. He swiftly entered, locked the door, and headed to where he informed Amashi to hide.  ‘I have to tell her everything that has happened for her own safety.’

---

Chapter 5: Beldesir Unisi Mekia

“I honestly didn’t expect you to arrive,” said Mekia, as she noticed Tumaz walking closer to the round table and two chairs that she had set within the rendezvous location. “You maintained punctuality too.”

Her arms were crossed, her head was turned to the side to observe him, and she leaned on a brick-and-mortar wall as Tumaz stepped into view on the cobblestone walkway.

Tumaz rolled his eyes. “Hello to you too.”

Tumaz observed the table and two chairs. He folded his arms and turned his attention to Mekia. The flickering candlelight of the lanterns hooked on the top sides of the wall illuminated her figure in the shadows. She held a pensive gaze as her eyes appeared to roam his form from his feet up to his facial features. Her eyes seemed to change from a deep blue into a crystal-blue while observing him. He blinked and shook his head. ‘Did I imagine that?’

Tumaz unfolded his arms and began to speak. “Did you want us to have our discussion in a sewer? I guess this spot isn’t as rancid in smell as the other areas here.”

“It may harm concentration, but the walkways are large enough to make it convenient and the smell will dissuade people from entering,” said Mekia, her lips twitched upward. She moved herself from the walls and walked over to the table. She gestured to the table and two chairs. “And the lighting on the walls helps. Be seated.”

The pair sat opposite each other and Mekia looked through the paperwork that she had placed on the table before putting it to the side, enlacing her fingers and resting them at the top of the table, and gazing at Tumaz directly in his eyes. The hawk-like crystal-blue eyes of the Zodian Noble observed the dark brown eyes of the Nadiran.

‘Why does this staring contest feel like I’m being judged for something that I’m not privy to?’ thought Tumaz, he maintained a blank expression outwardly. ‘I hope I didn’t come all the way here for nothing . . .’

“Before we proceed further, I believe it is pertinent to build rapport to decrease the chances of misunderstandings about our mutual expectations for this arrangement,” said Mekia, she gave Tumaz a solemn look. “I would like for you to tell me more about yourself, your home life, your combat experience, and . . . if you currently have a romantic partner.”

‘She has such a serious expression on her face,’ thought Tumaz, ‘I don’t intend to lie, but why that last question? It doesn’t seem relevant at all.’

“There’s not much to know about me. Due to all the violence in the outskirts of Girsu territory, I grew-up homeschooled with my younger sister. Our parents would try to make ends meet and pay for our education by hiring various tutors from the Zodian cities who were willing to teach Nadirans and accepted lower rates. Sometimes, they weren’t very good, but they were all we had as opportunities to learn.” said Tumaz, he grimaced. ‘She probably thinks I’m a moron.’ “That changed when I was sixteen, my parents were caught in the crossfire of a local turf war and shot dead due to being at the wrong place at the wrong time. I tried desperately to find work for the next two years just to pay protection money to the local gangs and to pay the local guest-worker taxes enforced by Zodian law. After those rough two years, I got in with the growing mafia group called the Badcock Brand; I began earning enough and having our house protected by the threat of violence from the Badcock Brand so that we didn’t need to worry about ending-up like our parents.”

Tumaz paused and sighed. He then continued. “I began paying for tutors like our parents use to for us, sometimes I got robbed because I didn’t know which ones were accredited early on. Eventually, I managed to get it to work and my sister and I have the equivalent of a full secondary education. I managed to get third-level education credits in some courses, but I never had enough time for the equivalent of a full third-level diploma due to work. I had initially wanted to go that far, despite Nadirans not being allowed. My sister wishes she could go to a third-level college, but only Zodians have a right to enter those institutions.”

Mekia tilted her head and nodded. “A fairly straightforward story. I’m pleased with your honesty in divulging your attempts to skirt the educational attainment laws. And as to your combat experience and romantic relationships?”

“I was able to survive most shootouts and turf wars unscathed. At first, I dealt with small fry like local gangs, but then I would be in planned shootouts to wipe out enemy mafia, sometimes I’d take part in multiple teams where we orchestrated assassinations simultaneously and sometimes, I would be assigned to kill mid-level mafia targets. I only have about three high-ranking mafia targets to my name, but I’m told by both my assigned crew and my immediate supervisors that I’m good at killing targets in a single blow.” replied Tumaz, he gazed at the far wall and shook his head before returning his attention to the woman before him. “I don’t have any romantic relationships. I never had time to seriously consider it. One woman in my assigned posse is infatuated with me and she acts like she’s entitled to knowledge about my life, but I have no romantic interest in her at all. I don’t tell her that, because it would cause more problems since I had her do a favor for me, two years ago.”

Mekia’s posture slackened on her seat and her lips twitched. She cleared her throat and spoke. “Would it be safe to assume that the weapons your mafia had prior, were taken from caches or otherwise House Girsu financed multiple sales to both sides within certain limits?”

Tumaz nodded. “A little of both throughout the years, I think. I mainly focused on surviving for the sake of my sister and I, so I never spent too much attention on it. Sarru convincing House Girsu to directly finance the Badcock Brand, and not any others, is a huge boon for us. We no longer have to scavenge or pay extortionary prices for supplies to local arms dealers.”

“How loyal are you to this group and how long do you see yourself living this life of crime?”

“I want to leave it,” replied Tumaz before he fully thought of her statement. Mekia’s lips twitched and Tumaz took a deep breath and exhaled. Tumaz continued. “I fully expect this mafia life to kill me someday, though. I want to make enough money to leave it, or at least to get my sister out of any harm from it.”

Mekia snorted and then spoke. “I assume you think that’s an admirable sentiment, but I’ve come to find that love is the worst form of torture imaginable.”

“That’s a really bizarre thing to say,” replied Tumaz, he frowned at Mekia. “Didn’t you want to build rapport? I’m not sure what you’re expecting from me, when telling me something like that.”

“I expect honesty, even in matters that either of us may find uncomfortable,” said Mekia, her lips moved upward into a smile and her eyebrows knotted. “It’s what I’ve experienced firsthand with love. No matter what you do or how much you care for another; they’ll always inconvenience you, hurt you, and drag you into a hole that you have to dig yourself out of.”

Mekia took a moment to gaze at the wall before returning her attention to Tumaz. She continued. “At the end of it, they’ll either blame you for their choice in harming you or make you feel worthless for loving them. Love is both a trap and an inconvenience.”

“And who hurt you so much that you truly feel this way?”

“My mother.” replied Mekia, Tumaz’s eyes widened. There was an edge to her voice. Mekia continued. “You may think that you’re supporting your sister, but it seems that she’s a burden and risk to you. I understand that you wish to keep her safe. If anything about her circumstances poses a risk for our arrangement, then I want you to inform me immediately, understood?”

Tumaz nodded, but kept silent. ‘I don’t trust my voice because of how she framed that.’

“I’m sure that you have questions for me, so ask them.”

Tumaz took a shuddering breath and then exhaled. His eyes met Mekia’s crystal-blue orbs and he kept his gaze firm.

“I think first and foremost, I’d like for us to introduce ourselves properly.” said Tumaz, Mekia’s eyebrows furrowed. “My name is Tumaz Mazud Zudu, may I please have your name?”

Mekia’s eyes widened and Tumaz could see her cheeks flush before she schooled her features into a blank expression.

“You . . . forgot to introduce yourself . . .” said Tumaz in a deadpan tone.

“Shut up,” replied Mekia immediately after his statement. Almost as if she had responded instinctually. Mekia cleared her throat and spoke. “My name is Beldesir Unisi Mekia, daughter of Elil Cmxcix-uttuall Meltia, and granddaughter of Elil Cmxcviii-usam Ephram and Elil Cmxcix-uttu Malfiat.”

Tumaz blinked and then spoke. “Wait, aren’t you that half-Noble girl who got thrown out by House Elil, only to make your way back to them, and then become trained as a trusted enforcer to House Erra because you impressed the Overseer? I think it was a little after the tragedy of Nodus city’s collapse about nineteen years ago, right?”

Mekia’s lips curled to a frown and then she responded. “That was . . . the official public statement given by the Overseer. But yes, I am that girl. After the collapse, my grandfather had his hands full with the political backlash that followed and he assigned me to House Erra because he had made an arrangement for my mother to marry into that House due to the previous Lady Erra being killed in the collapse.”

“Do you happen to know anything about why the collapse happened?” questioned Tumaz, Mekia stiffened at his question.

‘That event had so many questions that were left unanswered. Everyone lost loved ones because of it. So many of the Noblesse had entire generations of extended family die in one night.’ thought Tumaz, ‘Tens of thousands of Zodian commoners and a few Nadirans died all at once and all the Overseer said was something about engine failure causing the flying city to crash and kill everyone who was onboard.’

Mekia opened her mouth and then closed it. Her eyes dimmed and she took a breath to then exhale in front of him. She blinked a few times and then spoke. “I . . . do know some information that is . . . not known to the public. But I’m afraid that I just don’t feel comfortable with sharing it since we barely know each other. Do you have any other questions?”

“I thought you wanted us to maintain honesty with each other?”

“And I’m honestly telling you that I feel uncomfortable with answering a question that is not pertinent to building rapport at this time. Any further questions?”

‘I don’t want us to be hostile, otherwise this arrangement may not last long,’ thought Tumaz, he felt a cold chill in the pit of his stomach. ‘But this whole exercise to build rapport is just making me more confused. Does she want us to have a trusting relationship or not? I guess I’ll try not to push any issues to the forefront. I need this deal to keep Amashi safe.’

“Well, how about you tell me the same as what I told you; please tell me about your personal life, your combat experience, romantic partners,” said Tumaz, “and maybe elaborate on how Draconian Law influences the magic that the Noblesse use?”

“Hmmm . . . I fully intended to tell you that last one during a training session, but expediting the process wouldn’t hurt.” replied Mekia, one of her thumbs tapped on the other in her enlaced hands. “My life growing-up was less interesting than it may sound. Before I was born, my mother disappointed my grandparents with her inability to measure-up to the skills of the children of my grandfather’s mistress.

“She ran away from Nodus city to live as a commoner in the Commoner cities, partly due to her belief in the equal rights of all Zodians, and married a Zodian commoner by the surname of Beldesir. I honestly don’t know much about the man. All I was told was that he abused my mother physically causing her to run back to her parents. Her magic had been stripped by my grandfather upon running away, so she wasn’t able to protect herself. My grandparents were irate about the marriage and pregnancy. My grandfather had the man executed and ordered that I be exiled to the outskirts of what was formerly Ishara territories shortly after my birth. My mother was put under house arrest for the seven years prior to when I found her and my grandmother died the same day that I was exiled.”

Tumaz leaned in from his seat. ‘I never thought listening to someone else’s life could be this interesting . . .’

“When growing up in the erstwhile Ishara territories, I was luckier than anyone else living there. I didn’t know it at the time, but my grandmother had requested the Pink Slip from my grandfather, used it to triple her magical power, and sacrificed her remaining lifespan to impose a protective magical barrier upon me the day before I was sent off. That’s the reason she had suddenly died.”

Tumaz’s eyes widened and Mekia grimaced. She looked down to her hands and sighed. An uncomfortable silence descended between the two of them. Mekia raised her visage and gazed at Tumaz.

“Perhaps this is far too lengthy to fully delve into.” said Mekia, she straightened her shoulders. “My combat experience has mainly consisted of training in an academy for Nobles and wealthy Zodian commoners in harnessing our magical powers. I was given the commoner curriculum, but I was able to learn and practice the Noble curriculum thanks to Sargon sharing his syllabus, old books, and notes. I was mainly self-taught in the latter and only practiced during my free time.”

‘Wait, what she said doesn’t seem to add-up,’ thought Tumaz, he kept his visage blank. ‘How could she train herself, if she has no ability to use the same level of magic as the Nobles? Commoner magic isn’t as powerful as Noble magic.’

“Following graduation, I proceeded to work as a soldier for House Erra, as per the agreement my grandfather made with them, and spent the followings years working my way up to become their Chief Enforcer. As of now, I answer directly to my step-sister, who seeks to be the next person to inherit rulership of House Erra.” said Mekia, her lips twitched upward slightly before returning to a neutral expression. She gazed at Tumaz directly in the eyes. “As far as romantic partners, I never had any. Sargon was probably the only real friend I had, and while our relationship was close, we were both mutually too nervous growing up to begin dating or to experiment and didn’t want to jeopardize our friendship. He was also worried about how he would look dating a half-Noble. His family was soon persecuted by the other Noblesse, then assassinated under my grandfather’s authority, and he had to flee for his life.”

“Do you feel guilt over what happened?”

“Obviously, and shame too, I hated being a bystander to it all,” said Mekia, she grimaced and then looked down at the table and sighed. “I wanted so badly to ‘correct’ the horrible events that happened to him. I suppose that I was being too idealistic when meeting him to reveal my plan to get him back in the good graces of the other Noblesse.”

“Before you continue . . . I wanted to say, that I don’t consider what you’re telling me to be too lengthy or dull, I would like to learn more about your past as I do find it interesting,” said Tumaz, Mekia glanced up at him and her eyes widened a little. Tumaz continued. “I do think it is necessary to some extent. Because some of what you’re telling me doesn’t seem entirely clear. I thought you weren’t able to use Noble magic at all, so how did you teach yourself to use it?”

“Ah . . . I got ahead of myself. I won’t be able to divulge further on that until after your probationary period,” said Mekia, Tumaz frowned. Mekia took a calming breath and then continued. “I suppose it is best to explain more of my background to you. Prior to being found and taken back in, the reason I was able to survive for so long was due to my grandmother bestowing a magical shield protection and other magical powers onto me. I wasn’t aware of the others until much later, but the magical shield protected me from any type of harm; bullets, attempted physical assaults, and potentially hazardous falls. I could witness the horrible conditions in front of me, but feel immune or even completely ignore it because of this privilege that I was granted. So long as I had enough to eat and drink, I would be fine. Eventually I grew curious enough to seek out my parentage when I turned eight and learned who my mother was. My mother initially tried to protect me and tried to get me to go back so that my grandfather wouldn’t order my death for returning. I was discovered and attacked by my half-aunts – that is, the adults who were off-spring of my grandfather and his mistress – and came out unscathed, which is what made them realize that my grandmother had sacrificed her life to protect mine out of a misguided sense of family duty.

“After that . . . after the tragedy of the collapse of Nodus City, I was arranged to become the servant of House Erra. My grandfather sealed away my magical protections so that I no longer had them by overriding my grandmother’s authority and coiling my magic from within to forcibly make sure that it could never be used, I began to work as a servant of House Erra. While legally under Draconian Law, I am considered a Noble due to a technicality with how my grandmother used the Pink Slip to make a covenant for me before she died, I’ve been treated as a sort of anomaly as a half-Noble, half-commoner Zodian. My grandfather considers me a living embodiment of all his failures in life; considering how similar my grandmother was said to align with his ideals, I’m sure she felt the same but felt some twisted sense of loyalty to her family name. She may have simply chosen suicide out of embarrassment too; I guess I will never know for sure.”

‘Wow, that is a lot to take in.’ thought Tumaz, ‘I wonder what she left out and if she may have embellished some of it to make herself look good? Then again, she was apparently just a child for most of this. Would there be any real reason to?’

Tumaz mulled over some of what she had said. ‘If the shield charm that protected her allowed her to feel detached from it all, . . . then . . .’

“I think we’ve both shared enough about our lives for now,” said Tumaz, Mekia raised her head and her eyes gazed directly upon his once more. Tumaz straightened his posture. “Would you please tell me, what exactly your goal is and why your plan involves paying twenty-five thousand drachmas to a candidate who participates in it? I hope I’m not going to be used as some sort of test subject for the Nobles.”

Mekia smiled and then cleared her throat. She took out a pink pen and turned the papers in a full circular motion before passing them to Tumaz’s side of the desk. She placed the pen down next to the papers.

“I will only answer that after you’ve signed these covenants,” said Mekia, she leaned back on her seat and folded her arms. “Of course, be sure to read them before signing so that we have clear expectations. Now that we’ve built rapport, we must quickly proceed forward.”

‘I can’t tell if she saw sharing her life history as an assignment or if it was something that she genuinely wanted to do,’ thought Tumaz, he looked down at the papers that were placed in front of him on the desk. ‘Perhaps a mix of both . . .’

The pair remained quiet for nearly twenty minutes as Tumaz read through the sheets of paper to learn of his upcoming job requirements, risks, and responsibilities. Tumaz took note of the pink pen and examined it for a few seconds.

‘A blood pen. The covenant will be bound by the magic of our blood intermingling. Usually, the Noblesse have retainers who make these bindings on their behalf, while those retainers are bound to serve the Noblesse by blood.’ thought Tumaz, ‘Yet, she wants to do a personal binding and doesn’t care that the contract directly binds my Nadiran blood to hers? She wants me to directly serve her?’

“I’m surprised that you want to make this covenant between us instead of having a third-party intermediary,” said Tumaz, as he placed the paperwork down on the table and gazed at Mekia. “And you even provided a blood pen; don’t Zodian commoners usually use those? It was my understanding that Zodian Nobles still used blood quills.”

“That would be correct.”

Tumaz blinked and tilted his head to the side. “Why is that?”

“Ah, the requirement for blood quills was imposed by the Overseer,” replied Mekia, she shook her head as if to herself and leaned back on her chair. She folded her arms. “He’s enforced strict conditions upon many of the Noblesse since taking power. You may be surprised to hear that, in some ways, wealthy Zodian commoners live in more lavish conditions than some Zodian Nobles. It goes beyond writing utensils; the latest electronic infrastructure, plumbing, and water pipelines aren’t permitted within certain Noblesse domains. Much of it has gone into disuse throughout the decades that my grandfather has ruled.”

‘Plumbing?!’ Tumaz’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Mekia seemed to bite back a smirk.

“Many of the Noblesse wish to oust my grandfather for those religious strictures; while most of the anger is due to wanting to return to a lavish lifestyle, others have lost children to disease or lost elderly family members from lack of ability to provide them with adequate medical care.” said Mekia, she sighed and then continued. “Of course, the Noblesse are partly responsible, the impositions only occur because they wish to keep their magical abilities in the hopes of their respective Houses becoming dominant with one of their respective members becoming the next Overseer. Therefore, it is, to some extent, an obsession with power that motivates them to obey my grandfather’s traditionalist policies.”

Tumaz closed his mouth and slouched on his seat. He gave Mekia a neutral expression.

“And I’m guessing that he sows discord among the Noblesse to create situations like what happened to Sarru’s family?” questioned Tumaz, Mekia stiffened in her chair and her visage shifted into a blank expression. Tumaz continued.  “If I had to guess, even if they have no power to do anything against him, he creates these hysteria campaigns to further keep the Noblesse divided so that they’re more concerned with some prophecy and not focused on plotting how to oust him?”

“His policies have created a longstanding hatred for House Elil among the other Noblesse. While each of them do desire the holy book in order for their respective families to achieve absolute rule . . .” said Mekia, she trailed off and her lips curled into a frown. She took a deep breath and then exhaled. “The hysteria campaigns are mutually beneficial to the Noble families that are not on the receiving end, because the Overseer eliminates a potential threat and the other Noblesse eradicate a future rival for their respective bids for absolute power.”

“I understand that the Noblesse are bound by the covenant to prevent them from attacking the Overseer, but why don’t they –?” Tumaz was interrupted.

“Just kill each other?” said Mekia, finishing his sentence. Tumaz grimaced, but proceeded to nod. Mekia tapped the fingers of one of her hands in the rhythm on the table before responding. “The remaining territories held by the family that was ousted would then have to be run by another House of the Noblesse. The balance of power among them worsens as a result because divisions over who claims what territory abound and often there’s no equal manner in splitting it. The Overseer could just put the entirety of it under the control of House Elil, as he did for House Ishara once it was disbanded, but political realities have changed since then. If he simply takes control of a fallen House’s territories, it increases factional disputes among his own children and grandchildren that were married into the various families over inheritance. He doesn’t care what happens to the other Noblesse, but he wants to avoid enmity and bloodshed among his own family.

“To prevent both future bloodshed and his own House being deposed, his solution to the problem has been to marry off each of the children that he had through his mistress to the other Noblesse and give them special privileges whereby they’re not obligated to follow the same strictures. It’s specifically designed to drive out the rest of the Noblesse that aren’t part of his bloodline or let them die off slowly from disease or lack of medical care. While the feelings towards this are mixed among his children and grandchildren, the Overseer has adamantly declared this an act of grace because it reduces dependence upon ‘materialism’ for the Noblesse and induces them to be more faithful to the covenant. The privileges granted to his kin are argued to be due to their divine status as the Overseer is theologically observed to be approved by Father God and his bloodline is therefore privileged by divine right.”

Tumaz blinked and then held Mekia’s gaze. His dark brown eyes remained on her crystal-blue eyes. Mekia stiffened at the calm, focused visage.

Tumaz licked his lips, tilted his head, and then spoke. “Is your true aim to depose and murder your grandfather?”

Mekia’s crystal-blue eyes bulged, her lips opened slightly ajar, and she appeared to blanch at his sudden question. Her hands balled into fists on the table and her posture stilled entirely. A tense silence hung between the two for nearly a minute.

‘I have no intention of breaking this silence,’ thought Tumaz, ‘I want to hear her response. If this is her goal, then I want to know beforehand so I can adjust my expectations on this opportunity.’

Mekia closed her eyes, she proceeded to take a deep breath, and then exhaled. Her posture straightened after she adjusted her seating to lean back further in her chair. Mekia opened her clenched palms, she took her arms off the table, and crossed her arms. A neutral calm had overtaken her visage.

“You . . . we’ve dawdled long enough discussing current political affairs,” said Mekia, her tone gradually became sharper as she spoke each word. “Finish reading and sign the paperwork or feel free to leave. There will no longer be any further discussion until you sign my covenants.”

Tumaz sighed, picked-up the paperwork, and began to re-examine the contents. After he finished reading, he lifted the pink pen from the table and examined it for a few seconds before moving the paperwork over to the end; where the signatures were located.

‘This is the only way I know to save Amashi from being abused,’ thought Tumaz, the pen in his hand hovered over the signature brackets. ‘It’s either this opportunity or doing nothing while she becomes a victim because of my choices in life . . .’

Tumaz eloquently signed each of the signature brackets of the covenant with Mekia. A surreal foreboding overtook him as he watched his hand draw the patterns of his name. His eyes drifted upwards and a chill ran up his spine. Mekia’s crystal-blue eyes gleamed as she smiled at him. Tumaz shifted in his seat as he took note of her beautiful visage.

He handed her the paperwork and blood pen. Mekia proceeded to sign her own name on the paperwork while holding it close to herself and then channeled magic into the covenant. The letters gleamed; the paperwork flew and vanished into Mekia’s dark suit. Both of them stiffened as they felt the magic course through each of them. Tumaz felt as if cold, iron chains were wrapping themselves inside his skin and around his organs. He took a few sharp breathes as his body adjusted to the sensations of heaviness and vertigo until they eventually subsided. He moved his right hand off of his chest and blinked.

‘When did I put my hand on my chest?’ thought Tumaz, he blinked again and shook his head. ‘I guess the dizziness stopped me from noticing . . .’

“Come along,” said Mekia, her tone brooking no room of argument. She rose from her seat and proceeded to move further down to a spot by a brick wall.

Tumaz felt as if the iron chain sensation in his body was rattling to make him obey. He bit his lower lip to stop himself from crying out from the odd sensation. Tumaz got up from his seat and took a few moments to adjust to his new condition. The second wave of dizziness finally subsided after a few minutes and he sighed. He walked around the table and to the far wall where Mekia stood. Mekia had silently stood waiting for him by the dark walls and then turned her attention to them once he walked closer to her. Mekia pressed her hand on the brick walls and caused them to popped out; as if they were floating, rectangular jigsaw puzzles. Mekia carefully moved them to the side of the cobblestone archway until an egg-shaped passage was formed. She motioned for Tumaz to follow and the pair entered the darkness of the hidden passage.

‘Welcome to the rest of my life . . .’ thought Tumaz, he felt a pang in his chest as he followed slightly behind his new employer and quasi-patron.