Tenebres knew something was wrong even as they approached Geoffrey’s home. There was something far more ominous and menacing than mere fog hanging thick in the street outside the finely appointed manor, something that slowed Tenebres’s steps.

  Tenebres knew that Geoffrey’s home was a statement. In a neighborhood, in a city, where every square foot of land was valuable, where tenements climbed six crooked stories high to accommodate as many of the trade city’s working poor as possible, Geoffrey’s finely appointed manor with its fenced in yard, its glass windows, and its well-maintained facade, stood out sharply.

  It was more than just a symbol of the master assassin’s wealth and taste. The fact that his property line was respected, that the glass of his windows was not smashed, that the walls of his home remained free from defacement all demonstrated the capability of the man who dwelled within those four walls. It was a subtle display of the skill, power, and reputation that defined one of the most dangerous men in Emeston.

  That made the broken front door hanging off its hinges, lock bar shattered, an equally symbolic statement on multiple levels.

  “Geoffrey…no…”

  Tenebres was sure Allana wasn’t even aware of the words as they came out of her mouth, or of the desperate tone they carried.

  Power still hummed through Tenebres, the boosts his Sacrificial Victim had given him after Vernen’s death burning in his muscles, desperate to be used. He felt the throb of the gift of the void in his chest, equally thirsty to be tapped upon. He hesitated.

  “Let’s go,” Allana said, her voice low and urgent.

  Tenebres nodded, her voice and presence clearing the air around him of the foul reek of fear. It was time.

  #

  Allana was no stranger to anger. Since she was a girl, anger had kept her safe. It had become a weapon against potential predators–living in Emeston, the protective barrier was essential to survival. Only over the past few months, as Geoffrey trained her in the finer points of the killing arts and Tenebres had begun to unearth the full spectrum of her own emotions, had she begun to see her anger as the weakness if often was.

  Left to its own devices, her temper made her rash, drove her to lash out at others, and distracted her from the silent concentration needed to fight at her best. In the time since her anger had led to her storming out on Tenebres, Allana had worked hard to rein in the hair-trigger fury.

  All of that restraint and self-control couldn’t have been farther from her mind as she paced down the familiar hallway of Geoffrey’s manor. She did not pause, did not plan, did not take the moment needed to veil herself so that she could stand even a shadow of a chance against the man she had once thought she loved, the man she now hated more than anyone else in the world. Her steps slowed only slightly when she passed the door to Geoffrey’s lounge, taking in the shattered bottles, broken furniture, and blood-stained carpets.

  Normally, Allana thought of her anger as a fire in her chest. In fact, she had more than once wished that she had the gift of fire rather than poison, thinking it a much more fitting match to her personality. Only now, she understood. Her anger burned inside of her not like a flame, but like a pool of acid, racing through her veins like the most virulent of toxins, lingering on her tongue with the sharp taste of death.

  She fed the pain of that ruined lounge into that acerbic puddle, making it ever more caustic, and she continued walking. She hadn’t noticed when the conjured daggers appeared in her hands, each dripping with viscous poison. She didn’t hear Tenebres’s cautious whispers, urging her to slow down.

  Telik was, of course, waiting for them in Geoffrey’s study. He was leaning back against the master assassin’s desk, facing the door, idly trimming his nails with the razor tip of his dagger. At his feet, collapsed in such a way that Allana couldn’t tell if he was dead or merely unconscious, was Geoffrey.

  Once, Allana had thought the crimelord to be the epitome of sophistication and wealth. It had taken Geoffrey to show her what true taste, true confidence, looked like, and now she saw Telik for what he really was–an imitator, a pale, tarnished mirror failing to emulate the merchants up in Highwalk, those whom he claimed superiority over.

  Telik’s suit was of the finest materials and most stylish cut, but it was long untended, wrinkled and stained by its disdainful wearer. Similarly, his dark hair had once been finely tended to and trimmed to the most fashionably tastes, but it had grown without upkeep, leaving it lanky, greasy, and tangled, threaded through with gray–attesting to how long it had taken Telik to reach Adept. The fit athleticism that had helped Telik through his early days as a smuggler had gone to seed.

  Telik had all the trappings of wealth, but he did not understand them. He did not see how his feeble attempts to cling to taste only made him look that much more pathetic. He was obsessed with the accumulation of wealth, an obsession that had made him the most powerful man in Lowrun, but he had clearly never once considered a purpose for all of that wealth.

  All the mantles in the world would not save him from the fate Allana had ready for him.

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t my prodigal child. It’s been a while, Alla.” Telik’s voice was as oily as his appearance, the attempt at a refined accent only making the rough burrs of his natural tones more discomforting.

  Allana grimaced at the pet name, one she had left behind, and her fingers tightened on her daggers. “Not long enough for me, bastard.”

  Telik made a disappointed tutting noise. “I assume your presence here means my other two investments failed in their job. Vernen and Porgit always were a disappointing pair.”

  “‘Investments,’” Allana repeated through gritted teeth. “That’s all we ever were to you, weren’t we? Just investments, waiting to be paid to your hag.”

  Telik’s eyes went flat, hard. He shot a glare down at Geoffrey’s prone form, and drove a sharp kick into the assassin’s side. “Just how many of my secrets did you tell them, you rotten-gutted waste!?”

  Neither the physical or verbal abuse drew a response from the collapsed man, and Allana felt her vision shake at the edges a little, like shimmering air under a boiling sun.

  Geoffrey was dead.

  “He told us plenty,” Tenebres said, edging through the doorway to Allana’s left. “About you, your hag partner, your gift from the Tyrant. Your plans for Allana.”

  Telik’s lip lifted in a snarl, and he kicked Geoffrey’s body again. “Useless adventurer scum! Aggleta won’t be happy to hear that she was found out.”

  The crimelord’s dark gaze drifted to Allana and Tenebres, and a slimy grin split his face. “But it doesn’t matter anymore, does it? He’s not gonna go jawing off to anyone else… and once you two meet Aggleta, we won’t have any concern about you saying anything we don’t want heard. I’ll get my Violet Edge back, and a brand-new mage on top of that. So very convenient.”

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  #

  Tenebres’s hand twitched. He couldn’t help himself. A blistering red bolt of magic shot from his fingers even as ribbons of pain carved their way up his arm. He might as well have not bothered with the Blood Magic for all the good it did. A fraction of a second before the missile would’ve hit him, Telik was suddenly a half foot to one side. The spell flew past to slam into the wall of the office futilely.

  “A decent mage, at that. Are you really Novice level?” Telik chuckled, the sound as dark and grimy as his appearance. “It’s too bad, really. This waste of space could’ve at least gotten you to Apprentice so you’d be more worth taking… I suppose I can find some other uses for you though.” The crimelord’s gaze slid along Tenebres’s lithe body, making the boy shudder at his implication.

  Allana stayed silent in the face of the arrogant man’s threats, but Tenebres could all but feel the rage building in the girl. He could see it in the way her lean muscles jumped and tensed, desperate for action. He could hear it in the creak of her fingers on the leather hilts of her knives. He could feel her pain reflected in his own heart.

  “You must know it’s useless to fight me,” Telik said. Tenebres was increasingly convinced the man was more the type to talk at someone than to them. He hadn’t even seemed to take note of Allana’s anger. “If your failed mentor told you about my gift, you know you can’t win, any more than he could.”

  As he spoke, the crimelord reached into a pocket, pulling out a handful of gold coins, a wealth like Tenebres had scarcely seen. Then, in a shimmer of tarnished light, the coins seemed to dissolve, vanishing until Telik’s fist closed on empty. “It’s a simple rule of life: money is power. As long as I have money, I have power. And since I have all the money, I have all the power! No one can kill me–not this pathetic excuse for an assassin, not every rival who’s tried to supplant me, and certainly not a sad little orphan who only amounted to anything because of me!”

  “I used to think that.” Allana’s voice was quiet, even, but it practically dripped with venom. Tenebres gave the girl a look and sidled back a long step, prepping the next spells in his head as she continued. In his chest, the gift of the void, the open maw branded over his heart, itched with the need to be used.

  “I used to think you were right. I owed you my life, my skills, my gifts. Everything I was. I loved you. Thought of you as a father, even.” A sharp creak ran through the room, and Tenebres couldn’t tell if it was Allana’s daggers or the bones of her fingers. “I knew you didn’t love me, of course. But I thought that was normal. Why would you love an urchin? It didn’t change my debt to you, my admiration, my adoration…”

  Allana lifted one dagger in a sharp gesture, pointing at Geoffrey, then at Tenebres. “It wasn’t until I got out from under your thumb that I realized who I really was. The value I really had. That all the obligations you raised me to see as owed to you were just chains, dead weight you used to bind me and keep me from realizing the potential you never wanted me to fulfill. I found people who made me feel loved, and respected, and meaningful. And then you killed one of them, and tell me that you plan to do worse to the other.”

  “And I will!” Telik all but roared, his casual air dissipating like fog under the morning sun, revealing the true ugliness that lurked in the man’s soul. “I don’t care what stupid little realization you think you had. You are mine, now and forever! After tonight, I’ll make sure you know that–and I’ll start with your sunny little boyfriend there!”

  Telik’s crooked, yellowed teeth showed through his wide smirk. “I’ll bind him first, you know. I’ll bind him, and I’ll make him tell you what he really thinks of you. I’ll break down every stubborn, resistant, rebellious piece of you, and then I’ll bind your will too and make you mine!”

  Allana shrieked, a noise of rage and pain and stubborn refusal made manifest, and she hurled herself across the office.

  #

  Allana’s coordination, newly boosted by her fresh level up, guided her feet and hands in a perfect harmony she’d never felt before. She flicked a veil over herself, giving her the same momentary concealment she had used to land Trick Attacks on Vern. The acidic rage inside of her turned into something brilliantly hopeful as she moved to strike down Telik, finally.

  It was over before she realized what was happening. The same enhanced coordination and resilience she had believed to be the final nails in Telik’s coffin were the only reason she survived at all.

  The crimelord didn’t ignore her attacks the way Vern had. Instead, he moved with inhuman speed and reflexes to catch her by the wrists before her daggers could come within a foot of him. She screamed as his impossibly powerful grip crushed her arms, her daggers dropping from senseless hands. Only then did the bands of fire caused by his grip cease, leaving Allana doubled over in pain and unable to defend herself before a casual backhand sent her flying across the room.

  Her improved coordination was all that allowed Allana to turn in the air before she hit one of Geoffrey’s bookcases. Pain shot through her back at two distinct points, as hard wooden shelves bit into her ribs rather than her spine, and a pair of heavy books toppled from a high shelf to land on her head, further rendering her senseless.

  It took precious moments for Allana to make her eyes work, to focus her gaze, and even that was only possible due to her newly enhanced resilience, the boon already going to work to keep her battered body working.

  Across the room, she saw Telik, standing easily, holding Tenebres aloft in the air by the throat. He must’ve fought, but his spells hadn’t been enough to keep the crimelord away from him. The boy still struggled against the man’s choking grip, kicking out in a desperate attempt to remain conscious.

  “You’re lucky,” Telik growled. “If Hellesa was still here, I could just kill you here and now. But even if you’re no use to me dead, that doesn’t mean I can’t whip the shit out of both of yoAAGH!”

  Tenebres must’ve realized he had no chance against the crimelord’s powerful grip, so he had attacked Telik in a completely different way, using the man’s distraction to get his own finger in front of Telik’s face. When the bright flash of his light spell illuminated Tenebres’s fingers, it had surprised Telik enough for the boy to finally break free.

  The small, slender boy scurried away from the surprised crimelord, but the gesture was futile. They couldn’t beat Telik. They couldn’t even come close. The most Allana could do, she decided, was try to take him with her. And, just maybe, her new Toxic Manifestation might just give her the tool she needed…

  Toxic Manifestation–Active, Conjuration–Create a variety of magical poisons, targeting any single attribute. Three potencies of poison can be created, with lesser, moderate, and major quintessence costs respectively.

  #

  The yawning hunger in Tenebres’s chest continued to build, reaching levels he had only felt once before, as he had laid, trapped, on a stone table in the depths of the compound his parents had dragged him to.

  The gift of the void was desperate to be used. No mere imp would make a difference against a foe as powerful as Telik. He needed more. He needed…

  [Void Invocation] - Active, Summon - Open a gate and beckon a fiend to cross over. Nature and power of the fiend as well as ability cost varies based on the strength of the invocation. Sufficiently powerful fiends may be difficult to control. Moderate duration.

  Power still ran through his body from the lingering buff his Sacrificial Victim ability had given him.

  [Sacrificial Victim] - Active, Final - Make a physical attack that does a small amount of dark damage on a hit. If this hit kills the target, receive a moderate boost to all physical or mental attributes for a lesser duration. Minor focus cost.

  Tenebres’s hand clutched his chest. He could feel the burning cold of the brand even through his shirt. It knew as well as he did that there was only one way out of this.

  “Allana…” he yelled. “Hide!”

  [Void Invocation] activated

  Strength, speed, coordination, stamina, and resilience attributes sacrificed

  WARNING: Fiends of lesser rank or above cannot be controlled due to current level

  Major fiend slaughter demon successfully invoked

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