(39.1) Reunion

The office at the top of the white tower in Deika's upper "sunlit" city is extraordinarily neat and tidy. Any slight mess like a crooked paper or armillary sphere tilted just off centre looks as if it is meant to be.

Dark furniture blends into the equally dark walls and floors, all of which are made of expensive imported woods. Yet seated in a curiously novel spinning chair made of brilliant crimson behind the desk is the handsome, silver-haired vusivi that rules Deika City. Lord Cupere Schwarz.

Knock knock knock.

"Am I to suffer the same curse as all other short-lived races?" Schwarz says to the orb the size of a baseball sitting on a silver pedestal on the bookshelf by his window. "For all my work to be overshadowed by failures in the twilight of my years? You said this would fix it!"

He slams a fist down onto his armrest.

"It shall, my dear Lord." Speaks the orb with a sweet, venomous voice. "I am but an advisor, but have I not proven my trustworthiness?"

Knock knock knock.

"So you say, yet you refuse to show yourself and say it to my face?" Schwarz hisses, standing from his seat to stare down at the reflective surface and only see himself looking back.

His ruby red eyes are still sharp and full of fire like that of a much younger man. Proper care has ensured his face to remain light of wrinkles and his body muscular, with how his frame pulls taut the tailored blue vest and white shirt.

The long silvered hair and beard have a silky shine in the sunlight, further emphasised by his tanned skin and coloured clothes. Were it not for the patches around his eyes, another vusivi might assume Schwarz is a man in his mid-thirties, not his late nineties. 

"..."

There is shuffling beyond the orb then the surface changes, rippling like the water as mist and light escapes the crystalline surface. Then, a woman with dazzlingly bright red hair that frames her face beautifully, lilac skin marked by faint scars, and razor sharp teeth appears before him.

"As stylish as always, Lady Eri." Schwarz looks at her in disgust.

His gaze flicks from the rags she wears around her shoulders that hangs just barely down to her chest and is tied by a string on her front to the rag that barely qualifies as a loincloth. "I'll never understand mieleren fashion. Damn fishfolk."

"I am only ever at your service." She tells him flatly.

Knock knock knock.

"I may be but a child in your eyes," Schwarz turns to look out of the window. "But to my race, I am an old man with many experiences. I have taken your council among others to great success, but the order established is far from my goal. A goal unreachable by my natural lifespan."

Schwarz glances at her and squeezes his throat. "I have made compromises, allowed leeway with the criminal underworld, in exchange for compliance. Now they squeeze me in my old age. How can I trust the rumours of a youth elixir with unknown threats in the shadows of the Under City?"

"Trust them because I am your most trusted aide." Eri reasons. "You need wait only a little longer and the power you long for will be yours."

She turns her head to the side as if hearing something and disappears, shutting off the orb's communication right as Schwarz goes to respond.

"My lord, I have a report."

Schwarz turns quickly and speaks with a sharp tone. "Do not enter the study without knocking."

The officer lowers his head in acknowledgment. "I will endeavour to correct this indiscretion."

Schwarz nods and waves for him to speak. "See to it, it does not happen again."

The officer knocks his fist to his chest and proceeds. "It is as you suspected, my Lord. Previous reports on criminal activity on the surface and undercity are false. Activities only seemed to change because they are being conducted out of sight, behind closed doors. Several buildings were found to be fronts for brothels and gambling halls without permission, though we do not know the scale."

He frees a scroll from his waist bag and presents it to Schwarz and summarises the main points.

"Investigations have also found that there are more people in Deika than have been documented entering, with a large presence of Old Guard as well. It was presumed a clerical error that tarnished your great name and was going to be rectified shortly." The officer growls the last sentence, clear disgust at the presumed failure of administration. "What are your orders going forth, my Lord?"

"For now, simply keep close to the Old Guard during patrols." Schwarz leans back in his chair, still not facing the officer.

"My Lord?"

"As much as I personally dislike those fanatics, their ability to sniff out otherworlders is second to none, so I am positive that so many of them aren't here merely by chance." Schwarz stretches a hand out and turns the chair to face the officer and leans forward onto his crossed hands.

"The Old Guard? Do they not just hunt and slay the monsters?"

"Have you ever known such a big group to gather simply to hunt otherworlders?"

The officer hesitates, unsure of how to answer.

Schwarz waves a hand dismissively to proceed. "What else has been seen?" 

"A patrol earlier today came across bloodied foreigners with slave scars in an alley. They acted aggressively, stating they 'refused to be goods' before attacking."

"Foreigners with slave scars?" Schwarz pauses, narrowing his eyes at the absurdity. "You are absolutely certain they weren't simply traveling through my city and happen to have these scars?"

The officer lowers his head more upon sensing the hostility behind the calm words. "Without a doubt, my Lord. These people had no supplies, were bloody, and the look in their eyes was as brilliant as a bird who just discovered the world beyond its cage."

"I have allowed Braxton Abbey to operate for the past decade under the agreement nothing happens without my say. Yet, those black market scum dare slave trade in secret?" Schwarz leans on his elbows, sinking forward on his desk and squeezes his hands together. "Tell me, what wastrel dares insult me so blatantly?"

"Upon questioning, a curse interrupted their answers, killing one. However, before the demise, this foreigner managed to speak one clear word. Rosula."

"The auction house, Rosula Theatre?" Schwarz speculates, piecing together the information.

"Old Guard presence, unreported crime, secret slave trading… I believe the Underworld Auction has come to our backyard." Schwarz raps his fingers on his desk, the sharp clack of claw on wood echoes around the office.

"Are they trying to capitalise on the amount of otherworld materials? Panicked actions, perhaps, since this is the first time a World Narrative has been repeated."

"Dareth not I to guess, my lord." Says the officer. "Only facts I know are what I reported and seen with my own eyes."

Schwarz gives an absentminded nod of acknowledgment and continues his speculations and pours himself and the officer a drink. 

"Who would be so brazen to host the Underworld Auction now in such uncertain times?"

Glass clinks lightly against glass as Schwarz looks out the window of his manor, gazing down at Seika's surface city, glittering white from the afternoon sun. 

Only the Lord's manor, Deika tower, and mercantile buildings are built tall enough to pierce the blanket of fog that covers the city.

The sight of the city in the afternoon light is mystical; seeing spires pierce the thick, rolling fog.

Some spots are darker of course, shadowed by the height of buildings beneath the fog, but many shine like jewels where the strength of the sun's rays completely pierce to the ground.

Though perfect clarity can never be claimed, this play of shadows makes it possible to see the city still.

It is as if you're gazing through a veil. Even the people below can be seen thanks to their shadows. 

The ones that resemble walking plants are one of the many plant races. The serpentine ones are mielerens or lizalos.

Grouped together yet separate with a distinctively wide variety of beast features from their numerous ancestries are certainly visiting narithe.

Even the rare eltan can be distinguished in the glittering fog by how long their ears are.

Schwarz's eyes widen, remembering a certain eltan's silhouette. He frowns, forcing his expression to remain dignified. "Brothels, slaves, misdirections, disregarding agreements. That lustful roach is responsible."

Before his anger boils over, a knock comes at the door.

"My Lord; the guests of the Hawk Troupe and the Old Guard from the bar fight have arrived and await your presence in the west drawing room."