The main meeting room was decent in size. It had chairs around a central table with a gigantic map upon it. Placed upon the map were pieces that represented buildings and people. This was some sort of staging room, where the rebels had likely held many debates on their next move. A pistol lay on the table as if to threaten anyone that questioned Clay too hard. It was all illuminated by a vast chandelier with many gems of different colours.
"Clay Carver, ladies and gents. Ace of Realmhome's one and only University of the Multigalactic Arts. Realmguard's alleged 'most dangerous man in the Void'" Lex spoke nuzzled in Clay's chest, wrapped in a pseudo headlock and seeming to struggle for air.
"Never over you, my friend!" Clay boomed. "And that's the third most dangerous man in the Void… For now!" He let Lex go free and stopped to examine Frost and Lana with his hands on his hips.
Clay Carver, Frost was thinking, that's like the name of a superhero!
"And these two?" Clay asked. "You didn't mention them in correspondence."
"Voidhunters," Lex said, sounding slightly nervous. "Voidhunters sympathetic to our cause. You'll understand the rest when they introduce themselves."
Frost felt a strange feeling in the air, like there was a joke being played and it was only on him. A sixth sense, not exactly like something bad was about to happen, but something unexpected.
"Lana Whitehall," Lana said. "I… Have been waiting for a chance to fight the Realmguard. I'm grateful to be here."
"Oh my god," Clay laughed. He stepped backward and leaned on the table in the centre of the room. "You're Stella Whitehall's sister!? I heard that you survived, but… Wow. Your sister got the rough end of the genes, eh?"
Lana gave an awkward laugh.
Clay nodded in approval regardless. "Your sister will definitely be an problem for us. Am I to assume that I can leave it to you?"
Lana was silent for a moment. Frost watched her gather her resolve with prying eyes. Finally she raised her head to stare Clay in the face confidently. "My sister… Needs to die. I won't hesitate."
"That's the spirit. That fire in your eyes… You said it, you meant it. I approve of this one." He shifted his weight towards Frost, the map ruffling beneath him. "And this white-haired fuck?"
Frost stomped forward. "You watch your fucking mouth–"
"This," Lex said, "is Frost Direshard."
[Checkpointer20: Prepare yourself for what comes next. And the rest of you shut up, I don't want to hear a single peep.]
[GreatGadfly30: It is time…]
Silence. Lex presented Frost's name like it was a trick at a magic show with his hands out and everything. Clay's eyes were open wide, his eyebrows raised in confusion as he considered the information. He started to move. In the next instant he grabbed the pistol from the table and snapped it to Frost's forehead.
"Lex, you've got ten seconds to walk this white-haired freak out of here before I blow his head off." He pressed the barrel into Frost's skin, hard enough to leave a red barrel-shaped imprint.
"Right. Can you explain why?" Frost asked calmly.
Clay grew concerned seeing the absence of fear in Frost's eyes. "You're just like him," he said, flicking the safety off.
"He doesn't know that," Lex said with a shocking lack of urgency.
Clay turned his head to look at Lex. "What?"
"I said he doesn't know that!" Lex boomed. "So will you put the gun down for just a second? You can kill him after if you aren't satisfied with my explanation."
"I didn't agree to this," Frost ventured.
"You're not a part of this conversation, boy," Clay spat. Even so, he lowered the gun. "This better be one damn good explanation."
"I agree," Frost jested once more.
Lex gestured for Frost to sit down, and the three of them formed a triangle. Clay kept his pistol close at hand, angrily eying Frost. Frost, of course, still had no idea what was happening, just that his life was relying on this conversation. He started calculating how to make his escape in the most efficient manner possible.
"Don't want a seat, pretty lady?" Clay asked.
"I'm alright. Watching from here is fine," Lana insisted.
Clever girl, Frost thought. Once that bullet leaves the barrel, there's no telling what happens next.
"I haven't been entirely honest with you, Frost," Lex said. He didn't look ashamed. Quite the opposite. He looked confident in his decision.
"That much is clear," Frost said. He was willing to hear him out before killing them both.
"It was hearing your last name for the first time that spurred me into reading your book. I'd been looking into you even before you became a Voidhunter, and that's how I knew so much about you already." He turned to Clay. "He became a Voidhunter only recently, you see. Before that, he lived a normal albeit brutal life in an orphanage."
"Spare him the unnecessary details," Frost said angrily. Even if his life was on the line, he didn't need his past aired out to the room and to Lana standing behind him.
"Sure." Lex cleared his throat and appeared to grow slightly nervous as he continued with Clay watching him like a hawk. "You see… You happen to share the last name of someone quite infamous in the Void."
"Drake Direshard," Clay cut in. "Name sound familiar, pipsqueak?"
"Not at all," Frost said, growing eager.
"He had white hair, just like you do. That same killer instinct." Lex took a long, deep breath. "And seeing how you were abandoned at the orphanage… I suspect that he was probably your father."
Frost's parents had only given him one thing. His last name. The orphanage had given him the name Frost because of his white hair. Why would his parents abandon him just that last name? Frost understood now. Could it be that it was a challenge, or perhaps a guide? If you ever make it to the Void, come find me. A shiver ran up his spine. He had a feeling that his last name was not one from Earth, and yet it was still strange to discover it fully.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Frost asked.
Clay laughed from deep in his belly like he'd never heard something funnier in his life. "Well I'll be damned, Lex! You always bring me something good! I didn't expect to find out that Drake Direshard is a deadbeat!"
"Comes with the territory of being dead, or… Wherever he is," Lex said. "I didn't tell you immediately because I didn't think you needed to know. Your life probably would've been better had you never found out. But now that you're here, your last name has a meaning that the people of the Void won't let you forget."
"So he's dead. You're right, I wish I didn't know. But now I need to know everything." Frost leaned forward. "Who was he?" He asked. Indeed, he understood Lex's reasoning. Some information was better withheld until absolutely necessary. Frost would never tell Lana that he'd intended to kill her that day, for instance. Lex had never intended to tell Frost about his heritage until needed, and now it was. Was this better than a life of not knowing, or just more painful?
"Your Father was a fucking bastard if there ever was one. Brutal, ruthless, powerful like no other in the Void. He's the one and only man I've ever fought that made me truly feel fear. The primal kind, like a rabbit running from a bear. And he gave me this as a memento." Clay ran a hand along the scar across his eye. "He worked for the Realmguard… Their Headmaster. But he's been gone since the war of the great divide, five years back."
"Then… That empty office," Frost said. "Belleram Medeara."
"His right-hand-woman, once upon a time. Even she, the strongest woman in the Void, respected Drake very much. She refused to take his office when he vanished, and in fact she might be the only one that knows what really happened to him that day." Clay turned to Lex and nodded apologetically. "Sorry. I suppose I'm stealing your glory here, am I not? Still, you're sure he isn't some sort of spy?"
Lex, who was trying to gauge Frost's emotions, shook his head. "No. I gather that he'd rather his past not be revealed, but I can say with utter confidence that Frost Direshard wasn't aware of the Void's existence until about a week ago."
"I have more questions than answers," Clay said with a sigh. He stood up and moved to a cabinet at the corner of the room from which he withdrew a bottle of strange liquor and poured it only for himself.
"Speak for yourself," Frost muttered, leaning back in his chair in resignation. So his Father was probably the previous Headmaster of the Realmguard, but also he was probably dead. Talk about a double-whammy. How long had the Realmguard existed? Was his father the one who created that bullshit contract? Was Drake Direshard even his father, or just a relative? If this man was his father, then who was the mother…
"So am I to assume you won't shoot him?" Lex asked, looking at Frost with a relieved smile.
"I'd have to have the IQ of a disabled ape to do that. Lex, you've just brought me the greatest dark horse in the history of the Void." Clay turned around with his glass and held it out to Lana, who'd been taking this in with surprising silence. "Would you like some?"
"I'm alright, thanks."
"Right then. In that case, Frost–" Clay finally put his pistol into the holster at his hip. "We'll start now. If you have even half the talent your father did, we'll need it during the heist."
"You mean to say–" Lex seemed stunned.
"I'll train him myself," Clay answered. "Wouldn't want to waste an ounce of the potential in this one, and it seems we've only got two days to make it happen." He turned around and started walking towards the door on the other side of the room, towards the courtyard they'd passed through. Once at the door, he turned back to Frost who was sitting still in confusion.
"Well?" Clay asked. "Come on now. Get your ass up!"