Dim Lower Dormitories, one day out from the Entrance Exams.
I find a letter under my door:
Water's Edge. 19:00. No mask, no tricks, alone.
That's it.
It's fishy. But my mission compels me to go, though secondary to my curiosity.
***
The sun has already set. The moonlit night sky is a vast black canvas with speckles of white seemingly flicked onto it at random.
The wind is cold and still, reminiscent of the eerie air of the Central Plains. At least here, there are no vultures or devil cats, I hope.
Underneath the lamplight, sitting on a lone bench, the Mad Raven fiercely stares into the darkness, her demeanor regal yet menacing.
She has an edge that most nobles appear to lack. Aggressive intelligence is how she earned her name; her ancestor, the Mateiko from the novel, was similar. I say it's just the massive chip on her shoulder.
Before I approach, I push Essence into the translucent Imprint lines formed for God's Eye; white tear trails run hot down my cheeks. Better to do it beforehand than risk her seeing it.
Leara Mateiko's status appears before me.
┌─────═━┈┈━═─────┐
Name: Leara Mateiko
Age: 18
Race: Human
Health: Healthy
Essence: 150/150
Rank: C
Shards: ◇─◇─◇
Strength: C-
Agility: B
Vigor: C
Soul: E+
Magic: B+
Charisma: B
[Imprints]
Pressured: The air heeds. Control it, and all life will bow to your invisible hand. Complete.
[Manuals]
★★★★ Sword of Sunder:◄ Mastery: Mastered
[Skills]
Slot 1: Spell Speed◄ [Rank: C] ◄ Common. Replicable.
Slot 2: (Spell Speed)
[Traits]:
Natural Order - Patterns are truths, and truths are your guide. The sight of such comes with ease. Information gravitates to you. Trust in yourself.
└─────═━┈┈━═─────┘
Nothing too much of note. She's strong and better than I, despite my technical statistical edge. A mastered Manual and a strong Magic build more than bridge our gap.
That Trait makes me shudder. For one, it's ambiguous, save for one line. Was I really part of some plot of fate or the pawn of a cosmic hand pressured into fulfilling the information clause in her trait? A coincidence, surely.
I approach silently. Leara spares me a glance before maintaining her fixation on the darkened horizon.
"Interesting," she muses to herself.
I raise a brow, standing off to the side. "You thought I'd keep strong-arming you?"
"I suppose."
That would be overplaying my hand. "I assume you've found the Crystallized Essence Pool?"
"Yes."
"Well guarded?"
"Somewhat."
"Then…?" I told her that I'd approach her in the future, and initially thought that this was just about her seizing the initiative. It appears like it's that, and more.
"A wellness check." She lazily motions her head toward my cloak. More aptly, what's under it—or not under it; my missing arm. "You've hidden it well."
A Human devil. I can never forget the beings I tiptoe around. They smell opportunity from miles, and the second that weakness is spotted, it'll be exploited.
Leara is a vulture. My worries have manifested. I just pray there isn't a cheetah around.
I did the same thing to her, so it's fitting. I've learned from the best, I suppose.
"You're quite daring, Auren of Ovine…" Leara continues. "You intuited my character, used it to your advantage, got an Excursion Pass, and went to the wilds all by yourself. Many in your precarious situation would simply give up. I do hope it was worth it—despite the injury."
She behaves like a scientist observing a small lab animal. Upper nobles are so pompous. Perhaps she intends to belittle, acting as if my imitation of intellectual skills is cute or endearing. It's a clever attempt at not only cementing her initiative but also subordinating me. Doesn't work nearly as well when I see it coming,
"What do you want?" I don't like her obfuscation. Endangered tinges my subconscious, ever so lightly.
"Why don't you sit down?" Leara adopts a pleasant demeanor, sliding to the side and patting the open space on her bench.
"I'll stand."
"Really? I thought we were partners now."
"Are we?" I scoff.
"Aren't we?"
"Hilarious," I roll my eyes. "Be serious, or I'm leaving."
"A business proposition." Leara appears to, at least somewhat, suppress her antics. Is she just jubilant from discovering the Pool? That'd be a bit too ridiculous.
I stay silent in anticipation.
"It's quite simple," she relaxes against the bench. "You need a lot of money, which I have—"
"Which will be called upon in exchange for Landeskog secrets, on my terms."
…
"No." That's all she says. No. Very bold.
"Then I'll take my business to the rest of the Big Five."
"That won't work." She shrugs. What?
"And why not?" This gambit peeves me.
"The Big Five have factionized."
"That would've leaked."
"To some of the uppers. Not to you, evidently. It's been tacit for years."
Leara has me. She found a weak spot and squeezed until I revealed an even bigger gap. Still, it could just be a gambit.
A clever one, that if true, would also bar me from selling secrets to Guilds lower than the Big Five, who won't want to touch the conflict of giants with a million-mile-long pole.
"Very convenient for you," I maintain an unwavering demeanor. She can't see my worry.
"Not convinced?" Leara stands. "Will this suffice?"
Endangered flares, then burns.
A crack of a twig. A shift of a shadow.
A crimson blur.
WHOOSH.
I use a heap of Essence through Empower to sidestep.
So much force goes through my feet that I'm sent into a hyperaccelerated hurdling roll, ending up a dozen feet away. I quickly rise to my feet and scan.
In my previous place stands my attacker, Valeria Drysdale, the Bloody Wolf.
A grand mane of crimson hair cascades down her back. Her beautiful face is scarred and chipped, her physique strong—she's even taller than Leara and I.
Lupine eyes stare at me with a hungry. A slam dunk nickname meant for geeks like Radio Raheem—no wonder she's his favorite.
First was the vulture. Now the cheetah has arrived.
I've been caught.