Chapter LXXXI: Loss

Jinxie felt wearier than she ever had before. Her physical strength had returned insofar as she could walk without falling over, but now her entire body wanted to simply shut down. The desire for sleep was overwhelming. She managed to stay on her feet, even managing a smile as a celebratory Imperial citizen appeared and shook her hand. The Hydra, she remembered. In Aht Urghan she was already considered a hero for her victory over the Hydra, and now she had helped them triumph over the beastmen. She was their foreign heroine, first slaying the giant monster and now rallying the citizens to turn back the invaders. Through bleary eyes, the Red Mage smiled and waved at people who whistled and cheered as she walked past. She shared their spirit, simply not the faculties to express it.

Order was gradually being restored. They had won victories over beastmen incursions in the past, though never against so many at once. Still, the Empire had proven its strength once again, and the Astral Candescence remained in the Hall of Binding. More than that, the leader of the Trolls, Gurfurlur the Menacing, had died in the attempt to take it. There was much cause to rejoice, but they were, after all, still soldiers. Slowly but surely they were remembering this, and slowly but surely the celebration was dying down. What protracted the post-victory joy was the great number of common citizens mingled in with the trained soldiers. Those men and women had chosen to pick up arms and defend their city, and it had worked. Their zeal carried on as the regular soldiers began to be corralled by their superiors.

However, if they were brought away from the cheers regarding victory, it was only so they could be ushered to cheer for a return.

Jinxie stopped in the middle of the road, turning her head to face the Hall of Binding. He was emerging now, from the spot of his terrible battle, and she could feel the waves of excitement building. Everyone from the lowest rank-and-file to the Serpent Generals themselves crowded round the passageway which led to the Hall. Mihli and Gadalar looked no worse for the wear, but Najelith and Zazarg were both being supported by their soldiers. Rughadjeen was on a medical stretcher, and Jinxie could see him order it to stop, forcing himself upright as Kkel Solaar emerged.

He was carrying Pixel atop his shoulder, and the worn-out little Bard smiled the same gentle, happy smile she always did as the people of Aht Urghan cheered their arrival. Kkel was smiling too, a fierce and exultant grin as he raised one of his curved swords in triumph. Jinxie basked in the good cheer emanating from the crowd. Their missing Serpent General had returned at last. Like a favorite relative returning from a long absence, so was the Sunserpent's arrival in the Empire viewed. People laughed and cried, clapped their hands and whooped greatly. Soldiers flashed their swords in the air and saluted. She watched as he was swallowed up by that throng, turning to clasp hands with his fellow Serpent Generals as they came to him in turn. It was a proud and happy moment. She took the time to close her eyes, her bone-weary legs grateful for the respite.

Then a sudden impact nearly took the wind from her. Jinxie would have stumbled over if not for the arms wrapping around her, squeezing her tightly. She opened her eyes to find a mass of black hair beneath her, and a moment later Isset's face appeared from under it. The Puppetmaster hugged Jinxie tightly, jumping up and down excitedly. Shoki was behind her, wildly flailing his arms, as well as Speed, idly rocking back and forth on his heels.

"Jinxie! You're alive! You really came back! And you saved Kkel! I can't believe it! He's not a monster anymore! We beat the beastmen! Did you see him fighting? He's really back! I'm so happy! Can you - "

"Isset!" Jinxie spoke as loudly as she could manage. "Isset! Let me go! I can't breathe!"

The raven-haired woman released her, blushing. Shoki hid his face in embarassment. Still, her smile remained bright as ever. "You really did it, Jinxie. You have to tell me all about it! What happened after you ran off? How is Kkel back to normal? Who was that man that took Pixel?"

Jinxie waved off her questions. "I'll explain everything later Isset. Right now I feel like I could sleep for a week. I'm happy to see you're alright. And you too, Speed."

"Yeah, I'm good," Speed mumbled. "Really need a smoke though."

"I'll tell you all about the big battle, Jinxie," Isset promised, "and you can tell me what happened with Kkel. Are you going back to the inn?" Jinxie nodded. 'I'll meet you there later." She hugged the blonde woman one more time, then stood waving as Jinxie began trudging towards Whitegate. She would go back to the inn she had been staying at when she first arrived, but she had one stop to make first.

She was almost out of the Ulthalam Parade Grounds when a steel-covered hand caught her by the shoulder. She spun, unsteady on her feet, to face the person taking hold of her, and found herself face-to-face with Razfahd. The Grand Vizier of Aht Urghan looked the same as ever; imperious, condescending, and mean. There was a softening around the edges of his eyes, however, His anger and resentment were gone, though what they had been replaced by, Jinxie couldn't say. Curiousity, perhaps? Wariness? Whatever it was behind his gaze, he spoke to her with a tone that was not even the least insulting. She was surprised to learn he possessed the ability.

"I owe you an apology," he told her, though he had not the least bit of remorse in his voice. "You have done the Empire a great service."

"Razfahd, I'm exhausted," she said bluntly. "Can we do this some other time?"

"I do not often feel pangs of regret at my actions, Bastokan, you would do well to take advantage of the moment while it is still here."

Jinxie sighed, rubbing her fingers against her forehead. She removed her feathered hat, brushing back an errant strand of blonde hair. Taking a deep breath and forcefully opening her eyes, she kept herself from falling over. "Alright, so talk."

The Grand Vizier removed his helmet, staring hard at Jinxie as he cradled it in the crook of his arm. "The events transpiring in your homeland are not disconnected from what has happened here today. I know a great deal about the people involved."

"Why is that?"

"I have been dealing with them in secret for over a year now."

Jinxie was almost surprised, and almost outraged, but found not the strength to support either emotion. "Go on," was all she said.

"Tomorrow, after you have rested, come see me in the palace. I will tell you what I know, and hope that the knowledge aids you in striking back against these serpents."

She nodded, too tired to object. "Why, though?"

"Why am I telling you this now?"

She shook her head. "Why did you work with them?"

Razfahd turned his head, looking out upon the celebrating crowds filling Al Zahbi's streets. His gaze was distant, and he slowly donned his helmet again, not turning to face Jinxie.

"It is a difficult thing, ruling an Empire," he finally replied. "The Empress Nashmeira is still but a child. Inexperienced, and still in mourning over the loss of her parents. Much of the burden falls upon me." His expression had become reflective, and Jinxie would even go so far as to say mournful. "I love this Empire, Bastokan. I would do anything to keep her safe. Everything I do is for the good of its people. I have found, by and large, that my decisions are sound. Sometimes hard, sometimes harsh, but always sound." The sunlight on his armor gleamed, and he stared ahead, assessing the exultant jubilee occuring just in front of them. "But I have found that the occasional misstep is not unheard of. I am put at ease, however, by the knowledge that Al Zahbi has heroes who will keep her safe should my judgment fail." The Grand Vizier's lowered his head now, simply looking forward. He still did not glance at Jinxie. "Come see me tomorrow, in the palace. I must go speak with General Solaar."

Jinxie stood in place for a long moment, watching him disappear into the throng. Perhaps Razfahd was not the kindest man in the world, but she now understood him a little better, or at least she thought she did. She caught herself falling over, and managed to regain her balance just in time. She was so weary. When Kkel had resumed his human form she thought she might lose the strength to keep her heart beating. Now she was strong enough to walk, at least, but she needed to collapse into something sooner rather than later. There was just one thing she had to do first, she told herself, and then she could sleep.

The gate to Whitegate was swung open still, and was flooded with people coming to see if Kkel Solaar had indeed returned. Jinxie stayed close to the walls, swimming against the tide of humanity as she did so. It was heartening to see the people so happy. She cared little about her personal weariness now. The obvious fact was that bringing back Kkel from that dark place he had vanished into was like a miracle for citizens of the Empire. Their smiles of joy comforted her, telling her she had done the right thing. It made the walk much more bearable.

She had finally pressed forward through the gates, passing by the rush heading in the opposite direction, when she saw Pixel in front of her. Jinxie looked back, confused, and then stared questioningly at the Tarutaru. As usual, she was returned a warm smile. The silver-haired Bard waited as Jinxie made her way to her, kneeling down to meet her eyes.

"How did you get here before me?" Jinxie murmured, wondering if dropping to her knees was the wisest choice. "I saw you back there with Kkel."

"Oh, all eyes are on him, it was easy for me to sneak away. And you're moving like molasses, I passed you awhile ago without realizing it. I've been waiting here for you a few minutes now." She laughed, like a silver bell pealing, and Jinxie couldn't help but smile.

"Why were you looking for me?" She had to remind herself she couldn't fall asleep in the middle of the street.

Pixel put her hand under Jinxie's chin, lifting her head and staring her in the eye. "Kkel and I owe you everything, Jinxie. Our freedom from the Emptiness. Saving me from that kidnapper. Rescuing Kkel. It's all because of you."

"I was only - "

Pixel shook her head. "I'll not hear you downplaying your achievements. This kind of story is the stuff Bards dream of." She smiled again, wrapping her tiny fingers around Gjallarhorn and bringing it to her lips. A deep, powerful etude rang out from her instrument, and Jinxie suddenly found the strength make it back to her feet. She felt no less awake, but her balance was steady, and she felt she had enough to keep her legs moving now. The Tarutaru played only a few bars, and then tucked the magnificent relic away once more.

"A lot is going to happen very quickly now," she told Jinxie. "But no matter what the Serpent Generals or Razfahd or even Nashmeira herself say, Kkel and I will stay with you as long as you need us. We're yours to command, Jinxie, come what may."

"Thank you, Pixel," Jinxie replied softly. She dared not risk leaning down to hug the small woman, but Pixel smiled up at her understandingly.

"Where are you going now?" The Bard inquired.

"To see my son," she hoped the ache in her heart did not betray itself in her voice. "I've never been away from him for so long. Before I do anything else I want to hold him in my arms and let him know everything is alright."

"Your son?" Pixel said with some surprise. "You hadn't mentioned."

She nodded. "Just a few months old. He's been in the care of Abquhbuh from Salaheem's Sentinels since I left. He hasn't . . . his father is . . ." she stopped, sniffling a bit, but brushing it off quickly. "I'll tell you all about it, Pixel, I promise. We'll all sit and exchange stories tomorrow while we plan our trip back across the sea."

The Tarutaru's smile was infectious. "Then we will see you and your son tomorrow, Jinxie." She gave a half-amused sigh. "I should get back to the spectacle around Kkel. I hope it's not going to his head."

"You think it will?"

Pixel giggled musically. "Of course not. But it's fun to tease. Take care, Jinxie."

She watched the Bard walk back toward the Al Zahbi portion of the city, and then continued her trek into Whitegate. The office of Salaheem's Sentinels wasn't far off now. As she moved further away from the entrance to Whitegate, the crowd thinned out, and it became easier to move freely. She thought of the stairs which led up to the mercenary headquarters and groaned. So close now, she told herself. She wondered how Naja and Abquhbuh had managed with Drake in her absence. The mercenary taskmistress seemed highly unsuited for the task of babysitting, but her assistant was both kind and attentive. She could have left her son at the palace, but she trusted the blunt and crude Naja Salaheem far more than the scheming Razfahd. Dragging herself up the steps, she finally placed her heels on the overpass which led to their head office.

So tired was Jinxie that she failed to notice the rubble strewn about outside. A series of cracks had appeared in the wall since last she had been here, and bits of brick and stone lay scattered on the walkway. It failed to register as they crunched beneath her boots, and she stopped in front of the thick oaken door which led inside. She noticed it was slightly ajar, and placed a hand upon the heavy door knocker to push it open.

With an extensive creaking noise, it fell from its brass hinges. Dust billowed up at Jinxie's feet as the door boomed to the ground, the surface splintering from the impact. She stood at the now empty portal for a moment in shock. Cautiously, she stepped inside, unsure of what to make of this. Turning down the entrance hall, she stopped immediately, pressing her hands to her mouth in horror.

Two mercenaries were laying in the hallway, their bodies dessicated. The floor was thick with syrupy blood, slowly congealing as it pooled beneath the corpses. A third was pinned to the wall, his feet dangling just off the ground and a cutlass still embedded in his chest. His head hung limply to the side, mouth open and dead eyes staring blankly at Jinxie. She shook her head rapidly, fighting the urge to scream. Terror rapidly filled her as she forced herself to move forward, stepping over the dead men as her heart began beating out of her chest. A cold sweat broke out over her face as she ran down the hall to Abquhbuh's reception room.

She found him lying face-down on the floor. His glasses were a few feet away, crushed into the carpeting, the lenses shattered. A trail of blood marked where he had attempted to crawl towards where he had been injured to the cradle resting in his office. Bloody fingerprints were smeared against the cloth surface. Jinxie was frozen in place. She could not make her legs work. Her exhaustion was forgotten, replaced by stark fear. Her breath came in gasps, and her green eyes would not seem to blink. She could not see inside the cradle from where she stood. She would have to step forward, but could not make herself do it. That was her baby's crib, where he would sleep, peaceful and safe. That was her baby's crib.

Haltingly, driven by impulse more than thought, Jinxie took a step forward. Leaning down, she peered over the edge of Drake's cradle, her lip trembling as her mind raced through what she might find.

For a moment, her heart stopped. The cradle was empty.

She did not know how long she stood staring at it before Abquhbuh moaned beneath her feet. She dropped to her knees, grabbing the secretary by the shoulders and turning him over. There was a gruesome cut across his stomach, and his entire torso was stained red. Jinxie's eyes blazed as she shook him violently, her voice a shrill scream.

"Where is he?" She demanded, "Where is my baby?" Abquhbuh groaned, his eyes flickering only slightly. "Where?" She was shrieking at the unconscious man as hot tears stung her eyes. Panic gripped her gut, clenching tightly and twisting.

"Jinxie," a voice called out to her, and she dropped Abquhbuh, her head snapping up. Naja Salaheem had emerged from her office, crouched down on her knees. She was holding on to her enormous mace simply to stay upright. Her carefully styled hair was undone, loose and matted with blood stemming from a gash just over her right eye. It was closed, blood trickling down over it and dripping from her chin. The mercenary leader's red garment was torn and slashed, her body a mass of bruises. "Jinxie," she repeated, gazing up with her one good eye. "I'm so sorry, Jinxie. They took him."

"Where?" Jinxie demanded again, her voice anguished. "Who took him? Where is my son, Naja?"

The Mithra's head dropped low, her breaths strained. "They took us by surprise, Jinxie. You gotta believe we fought with everythin' we had." She looked up for a moment, and then turned to avoid the helpless devastation in the Red Mage's eyes. "The Lamiae took him, Jinxie," Naja whispered. "The undead swarm has your son."

A heartbroken wail escaped Jinxie's lips as she collapased, tears streaming from her reddened eyes. She didn't know how to get up anymore. She didn't know what to do. She was lost.

It had all been for nothing.

Her baby was gone.

Chapter XVIII: Allies in the Empire

It was hard for Jinxie to immediately determine exactly which sensation she disliked more; the cold, dispassionate glaring of the Grand Vizier Razfahd, or the cool and calculating eyes of this woman, Naja Salaheem. Every time she looked at Jinxie, the Mithra woman seemed to be sizing her up like a side of meat; never before had she felt so much like a mannequin on display. The red-coated woman would occasionally let her eyes slide off of Isset, whom had been relating Jinxie’s story to the mercenary queen, and look Jinxie up and down with looks ranging from solid appraisal to unconcealed disbelief at what the Puppetmaster was telling her.

Salaheem herself was a figure that no doubt drew stares in a crowd. Standing no more than a few spans high at most, she wore a pair of men’s pants, though still in the loose-fitting Aht Urhgan style, and a scarcely concealing top, along with a somewhat ridiculous-looking tiny crown on her carefully combed rust-colored hair. On top of all that, however, her open-fingered gloves were constantly gripped around the shaft of an enormous spiked mace, which she would occasionally tap against the edge of a desk riddled with splinters and indentations from harder encounters with the metal monster. The Mithra, Isset had explained, was the owner of a mercenary company that catered to whatever need those who paid might need. While relatively new, Salaheem’s Sentinels was developing quite the reputation, and the tiny woman with the large mace standing behind a desk in the somewhat cramped audience room was the one behind it; though the methods she used were questionable to say the least.

“So this scrawny thing wants to convince the Empress into giving up some soldiers?” Naja asked, and Jinxie realized she was being talked about.

“Even so, Naja.” Isset replied. Isset was a mystery; the colorfully-garbed woman whom had appeared outside the castle gates had given no reason for wanting to help them, but she was apparently a member of this organization Naja had put together. The puppet, always at her side, swayed gently back and forth as his owner discussed matters with her boss. “Razfahd had her thrown out like a rotting Troll carcass, but Shoki showed me everything that went on.”

“So what,” Naja remarked, and Jinxie was aware that she was now being addressed directly, “you want to hire some mercenaries? Forget it! I’m not sending my people to risk their necks across the Gugru Blue when it doesn’t look like you’ve got a gil to your name to pay me back for it.”

“No, Naja, no.” Isset said, stepping in front of the woman as she started to angrily brandish her mace. “I was thinking . . . Jinxie does something for us . . . something that reflects well on the company to the Empress . . . then they owe Jinxie a favor, and the Sentinels reputation gets a huge boost. Everybody gets something.”

“Sounds good in theory,” Naja began, “but theories don’t put gold pieces on the table. What could she possibly do that would help us that much?”

“Well, I was thinking . . . she could take care of that . . . ‘problem.’” Isset remarked, in an almost offhand manner.

“HER?” Naja said, astonished, and then let out a quick, biting laugh. “She doesn’t look like she could arm wrestle a Qiqirn, you think she could – “

“Hey!” Jinxie chimed in. Naja stopped, and Isset turned, both of them staring at the flaxen-haired Red Mage. “Stop talking about me like I’m not here!”

“Do something to show me you are.” Naja fired back, scraping one of the spikes of her mace across her desk as she rounded to the other side. With one hand, she lifted the enormous crushing weapon and leveled it at Jinxie, who remained still in defiance. “You can’t impress the Empress, lady, you’re not going to impress me. I didn’t make this company what it was by letting every skinny thing that drags itself in through the door become a charity case!”

“Naja, just hear me out,” Isset started to say, but Jinxie cut her off.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with this place,” Jinxie said coolly, not taking her eyes off of Naja. “You selfish, condescending Aht Urhgan people, thinking you know so much about everybody else. I have seen things you can only dream about, Naja Salaheem. I had to cross the open sea and escape hordes of demons just to make it here. What’s the most dangerous thing you’ve done today, Naja? Polish that stick? Maybe yell at some of these straw-spined mercenaries I’ve seen wandering around this hole you call a company? I don’t know why I came here, I should’ve known better than to think that the people of Aht Urhgan would be able to think of anyone but themselves for even a second."

“Jinxie,” Isset said, taking a step towards the woman, but Naja raised a hand, her eyes narrowed and head tilted as she regarded Jinxie.

“So,” Naja spoke, “it looks like there’s some fire in your belly after all.”

“If you’ve got something to say, say it.” Jinxie said, turning as if to go.

“I can help you.” Naja said, perhaps a little too quickly, and Jinxie detected a slight tinge of desperation in her voice. “We’ve had . . . that is to say, the Empire has had, a, uh . . . a problem, out in the Wajoam Woodlands. I’ve sent a few of my mercenaries out to deal with it, but . . . they had some problems with it. The . . . problem."

“What is this ‘problem?” Jinxie asked cautiously.

“A Hydra.” Naja replied flatly. “It just showed up here a few weeks ago and started walking around the woodlands like it owned the place. So far all sending out people to fight it has earned us is a few fancy funerals. It’s seriously affecting troop movements out in Wajoam, so the Empire is aching to get rid of it. Situation being what it is though, they can't spare the numbers it would take to drag it down. If you can do that, you'll have the gratitude of the Empire. Then they’ll give you a reward for sure.”

“You want me to kill a Hydra?” Jinxie demanded, eyes wide with astonishment.

“I won’t be sending you alone,” Naja scoffed, “that wouldn’t make any sense. I’ll have a Sentinel go along with you; that way you’re acting as an official representative of Salaheem’s Sentinels, and the company benefits right along with you. Win-win. What do you say?”

Jinxie considered it for a moment. Hydras were mythic, even in Mindartia, and she wasn’t exactly leaping at the chance to run off and fight one. On the other hand, if she didn’t, she might as well have wasted her time coming across the sea in the first place. The possibility of appealing to the Empress directly had failed, but perhaps putting the Empire in debt to her would work. She looked up at Isset, but received no help from the foreign woman, who only stood with hands clasped behind her back, idly looking up at the ceiling. Xaerus had not entered with them, explaining that she had an errand to run. This was all up to her. Of course, the choice between taking action or doing nothing was no choice at all.

“Naja," Jinxie said, taking a step forward towards the mercenary as she extended her hand, "you have a deal. If this will convince the Empress to send aid to Mindartia, I'll do it. I’ll kill the Hydra for you.”

The Mithra clapped her hand against Jinxie's with a feral grin. “Absolutely,” Naja said, smooth as silk, “just come over here, I have to have you sign off on the lease of an agent to work with you.” The Mithra crossed back over to the other side of her desk, laying her mace down on the battered surface of it, and produced a few sheafs of parchment lined up closely with one another. “Now, just sign the bottom of this last one . . . “

“I’ll sign off on it, Naja.” Isset interjected, even as Jinxie reached for the quill on Naja’s desk. Naja looked surprised, and then scowled as Isset dipped it in ink. “Which one was it again?”

Naja’s nose wrinkled as she produced the parchment, and Jinxie couldn’t be sure amidst all the sheets the owner of the Sentinels had pulled out, but she was certain that it had been a different one that she had originally presented for her to sign. Isset affixed her signature to the bottom of the contract, which Naja immediately snapped away from the Puppetmaster, scrutinizing it closely.

“Alright,” the crowned Mithra said after a moment, tapping her fingernails across her desk surface. “congratulations, you’ve hired the services of Salaheem’s Sentinels. Abquhbah!” she shouted.

The bespectacled secretary in the corner immediately leaped to his feet from where he had been, playing on the ground with Drake. Snapped at attention, he barked out “Yes, Naja?”

“Find a mercenary to go with these two into Wajoam. Someone good,” she amended, “none of the, uh, “straw-spined” ones we’ve got wandering about.”

“Uh, Mistress Naja,” Abquhbah said nervously, tapping the ends of his fingers together.

“What is it?”

“Well,” he started, “it’s just that, uh . . . “

“Spit it out!” Naja demanded, smashing her mace against the desk. Wooden splinters went sailing out in all directions as Naja pried it out of the surface once more, the petite woman staring daggers at the stammering Abquhbah.

“Well, there’s only one left off-duty!” he managed to get out in a rush. “It’s, you know, that one.”

“What? Oh, don’t tell me,” Naja rolled her eyes back, pressing thumb and forefinger against the bridge of her nose.

“He’s all we’ve got.” Abquhbah said apologetically. “Everyone else has been hired to help deal with the Beastmen attacks.”

“Ugh.” Naja grunted, shaking her head. Taking a moment to adjust her crown, she looked at Abquhbah, and then slumped back in her chair, changing her gaze to examine Isset. “I take it you’re throwing in with this one, too?”

“Got to keep life exciting somehow.” Isset told her, to which Shoki responded by leaping up twice and clapping his hands.

“Fine . . . Abquhbah, send them over to where he is. Tell him he’s on duty, effective immediately, and he’s to follow Sergeant Major Isset’s orders to the letter. Got that? Write him a . . . you know what? He won’t read it. Just . . . be forceful, Isset.” Naja’s attitude towards this new mercenary had Jinxie understandably worried as Isset flourished a mocking bow.

“I’ll keep him on his best behavior.” She promised, and then turned to walk out the door. “Come on, Jinxie, let’s go meet your mercenary.”

“Abquhbah,” Jinxie said, stopping at the timid young man, “could you do me a favor, and – “

“Actually,” Abquhbah said, cutting her off, “can I ask you something first? Could I keep watching Drake here while you’re gone? He’s so adorable, I just can’t get enough of him. There isn't a lot of, uh . . .” he directed a sideways glance towards Naja who had begun tapping her mace into her desk, producing a grim chopping sound. "cheer in the office . . . you know."

Jinxie blinked. The same favor she was going to ask him for he had just requested of her. She gave a slight smile, taking her child and cradling him again once more before placing him in Abquhbah’s arms. “That would be fine, Abquhbah. Thank you.”

“Thank you, Jinxie.” He said enthusiastically, and immediately began making playful baby noises towards Drake At her desk, Naja sighed discontentedly, and Jinxie could hear her muttering under her breath as she started scribbling things down on a sheet of parchment.

“Interfering with the wishes of the President . . . 15 coin fine . . . disrupting the workplace environment . . . 12 coins . . . having that “new baby” smell . . .14 . . .”


Xaerus was still nowhere to be found by the time Isset had led Jinxie to the place where Abquhbah had directed them to go. It was not a long way from the building Naja owned, a small office located near the wharf, the smells of fish and the sea air mingling somewhat intriguingly with the scents of incense and metal that lined Naja’s headquarters. This place, however, a shoddy little shack in Whitegate’s residential district which faced out towards the main square, smelled of something entirely different.

“What is that?” Jinxie asked of Isset, her nose wrinkling at the strange aroma.

“It’s a plant that grows in Bhaflau thickets.” Isset replied, her arms folded as Shoki knocked away at the door to no response. “and it’s probably the reason we’re not getting anywhere with knocking.”

“What do you – “ but before Jinxie could finish, Isset reared back her slender fist, and with a solid step forward, punched the door square in the center. It flung back on its hinges, swinging open and admitting them in, but sending a thick cloud of smoke out. Jinxie coughed as the overpowering scent filled her nostrils, and flicked her hand upwards with a release of elemental air magic, winds blowing the fumes away from her. Isset was already peering her head inside, stepping into the room as Jinxie followed her.

“Hey!” Isset shouted. “Private, are you home?” No response was given to Isset’s inquiry, but she tried again. “I know you’re hiding somewhere, Private! Get in here!”

Jinxie looked up as the sound of a door slamming shut was heard, and found herself looking at whom she could only assume was the man in question. He was lean and taut, stripped to the waist and barefoot, tanned from exposure to the sun. His eyes seemed narrowed in a permanent squint, and his head was surmounted by a mass of shaggy, uncombed black hair which fell down in tangled clumps over his eyes. His posture was so languid that Jinxie imagined he could fall asleep standing up if he wanted, and as he looked the two of them over, head swiveling loosely rather than seeming to move of its own accord, he withdrew the wrapped tobacco from his mouth, setting it down in a nearby tray. There were people in Mindartia and Quon who smoked tobacco, both wrapped tightly like this one or in large pipes like the San d’Orians, but Jinxie had never seen one which smelled like this one did.

“Sorry, Issy,” the man said lazily, “I was washing my dog.”

“Speed, you don’t HAVE a dog.” Isset said with an exhalation, shaking her head.

Speed blinked, looking about from side to side. His house was unlit and dank, and the smell of his smoke was lingering everywhere. Here and there were loose pieces of parchment, and there were throwing knives embedded in the walls, which were coated in a thin, dust-covered layer of peeling paint. Clothes were tossed about haphazardly, some of them seemingly undisturbed for weeks, others wrinkled and torn as if worn day after day, and it seemed that he slept on the food-stained sofa in the room they were in from the indentation of a body forced into the thin cushions. He took a long moment to consider his surroundings before replying.

“I could’ve sworn there was a dog here, man . . . “

“Speed,” Isset said sharply, “we’ve got a mission. Naja’s put me in command, and I signed off for a partner . . . and you’re the only one available. This is Jinxie, she’s from Mindartia. We’re going to go help her kill the Hydra.”

The bare-chested mercenary looked at her for a moment, rocking back and forth on his feet, then stopped. “Hey Issy. When did you get here, man? Is that little machine dude with you? Oh, did you bring anything to eat? Man, I am starving.”

“Speed!” Isset yelled at him, seemingly snapping him to attention. “Grab a weapon and let’s go! We have a job to do!”

“Oh yeah, right.” Speed nodded, and looked around his habitat again, dropping to one knee and rummaging through the strewn litter. After a moment, he pulled out from under a pile of discarded meat bones and dirty clothes, to Jinxie’s astonishment, an enormous battle-ax like she had seen hanging in some of the shop walls in the Empire. It looked like a crescent moon, and shimmered with precious gold adornment as he strapped it across his bare back. He hefted it into place with ease, though it must have weighed a considerable amount by the looks of it. “Okay,” he said, shifting the strap into place.

Isset blinked. “That was fast.” She said, “I thought it would take forever to make you get ready.”

Speed nodded once, then stopped, a furrow crossing his brow. He cocked his head to the side, his squinting glance settling on Isset. “Wait . . . . what? Are we going somewhere?”

Isset scowled, Shoki crossing his arms and shaking his head slowly from side to side. “Bear with me here, Jinxie,” she implored, looking at the woman with apologetic eyes, “this might take awhile.”

"Dude," Speed said, suddenly confused again, "where's my dog?"