A New Job

It was the next morning when the door creaked open once again. Aoric's ears perked up as he sat upright on the bed.

Contrary to his expectations, it was the woman clad in black at the door. She said nothing for a few seconds as she looked at him from head to toe. "Follow me," She said after a moment. "And please don't try to run off somewhere, I woke up a little while ago, and I'm not in the mood to deal with your antics."

Aoric pressed his lips together and reminded himself to keep his mouth shut. There was no point in saying something and angering the woman now.

He climbed down the bed and approached the woman.

"You're limping." She said with a frown.

"I'm wounded." He reminded her, gesturing at the bandages on his left leg.

Her gaze lingered on the spot he pointed at, then she sighed, shook her head, muttered something about fragile humans, and walked down the hallway. Aoric followed her with a slight limp. The wound still hurt, though not as bad as the night before.

He turned his attention to his surroundings. The walls were made from cold stone, as were the tiles on the floor. The narrow hallway came to an end quickly. They descended a spiral staircase, and finally arrived at a more normal place. A room befitting a mansion of this size.

The hardwood floors creaked under his steps. The walls were lined with fancy paintings with golden or silver frames.

"This way." The woman said, and entered another room, leaving the door half open.

Aoric followed her, but he didn't pass through the door before locating all the other rooms accessible from this hallway.

"What's the frown for?" Irene's voice sounded from the room as he stepped inside.

It was a large dining room, with a long table at its centre. The walls were lined with fancy tapestry, and an ornate, silver chandelier hanging from the ceiling right above the large table illuminated the room.

There were three small windows across the opposite wall from where he was standing. He could see the roofs of the other mansions from here, which made him wonder, were they still on the second floor?

"You know I hate the damn stairs." The woman clad in black responded. "Your laziness is costing me my free time. Feed him yourself." She made an annoyed gesture and the table, then brushed past Aoric and left.

"Well, there she goes." Irene sighed. "Sit down and eat. I can't have you die on me before you get the job done."

Aoric rolled his eyes. "So very kind of you." He muttered as he approached the table and sat down.

As lavishly decorated this mansion was, the food on the table was quite the opposite. Bread, cheese, and some dried meat was nothing to scoff at for Aoric, but he was quite certain these two women ate much better.

"So," he said as he sat down and drank from the glass of water by his plate. "What am I stealing?"

Irene's lips curled up. "Straight to the point, huh?" She said with a much deeper voice than before. Aoric furrowed his brows. "Yeah. I will get this done, and we will never see each other again." He firmly responded.

Irene pouted. "You're no fun." She leaned on the table straight across from where he was sitting. Her dress slipped down ever so slightly, revealing a dangerous amount of skin on her chest. Aoric averted his eyes; her charm, or to put it more bluntly, seduction attempt would have worked had she not nearly broken his wrist last night.

Beautiful women were dangerous. But what was more dangerous was a woman who knew exactly how beautiful she was; a woman who didn't hesitate to wield her beauty and charm as a weapon. And Irene was very much the latter. And that simple little fact made Aoric feel very comfortable.

"What am I stealing, and from where?" he repeated.

Irene chuckled, then pointed out the window.

"There is a grail." Her voice was soft, as if she were telling a bedtime story. "A silver chalice, filled with blood."

"Blood again?" Aoric cried. "What is your obsession with blood?" He immediately regretted asking, and violently shook his head. "No, wait. I don't want to know. Ok, grail filled with blood. Like a chalice?"

Irene nodded. She walked to the nearest window and opened it, letting the cold morning breeze inside. Aoric shivered as the cold touched his skin, but Irene seemed to be enjoying it. "A chalice, so to speak, yes. It is in the Cathedral of the Old Blood. On the central altar."

Aoric dropped the piece of bread he was about to eat. "Excuse me?"

"The grail is the most holy object of Vesporum. It is one of our final direct links to the gods, and the priests and the Sorcerer protect it with their lives. None besides the Sorcerer may lay their hands on it, and those who try are never to be heard of again."

Aoric pressed his fingers against his temples. "Let me get this straight." He mumbled. "You want me to break into the holy cathedral, steal the most valued artifact and sneak out. And there are so many people who have dedicated their lives to protecting it? And those who touch it just… disappear? You want me to steal that?"

Irene looked at him over her shoulder. "No."

Aoric breathed a sigh of relief.

"I want you to drain the blood in it and replace it with someone else's blood. And bring the blood you drained to me."

"You are insane." Aoric stated.