Interlude 7: Unheavenly Creatures

The steady clack of a keyboard filled the expensively furnished office. The moon shone bright through the high windows that looked out upon a meticulously groomed lawn. Seated behind a grand mahogany desk, a pale woman sat in a custom tailored charcoal suit, her mostly gray hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. Pitch black eyes examined what was displayed on her computer with heavy scrutiny.

After a moment of study, she reached over to grab a crystal wine glass, lifting it up slightly before moving her eyes to regard the empty vessel. She sighed and placed it down before tapping a blood-red crystalline rose bloom. A humming tone filled the room for a few seconds before the door opened and a young brunette walked in, her eyes downcast.

A smile made its way to the seated woman’s face, revealing twin gleaming fangs.

“Ah, Angela,” the vampire said in a low voice. “A wonderful choice, Gwyneth.”

“I do my best, Lady Zoya,” a stiff voice answered as a stern woman walked in behind Angela. Gwyneth pushed a bit of her stark white hair behind her ear and adjusted her glasses. Her piercing yellow eyes glanced down at the tablet in her hands. “I will remind you that you wished to call Nadiya by 18:00 her time. That is in less than fifteen minutes.”

“I am aware of the time, Gwy,” Zoya said, her tone light and absent of rebuke. “I am nearly done.”

“Just making sure, my lady,” Gwyneth said with a bow.

Zoya smiled slightly and gestured for Angela to approach. The brunette silently walked to the desk as if in a haze, a placid smile on her face. She lifted one hand over the empty glass, the other producing a delicate silver blade from the sheath at her waist. With practiced movements, Angela slashed her palm open, her blood flowing out of the wound and down into the glass.

Zoya watched the flow fill the cup and licked her lips, her thirst growing stronger as the scent hit her nose. As the glass filled, the blood flow slowed to a trickle, stopping once it was full. Angela let out a whimper of pleasure as her wound closed. Her duty done, Angela drowsily bowed to Zoya and left the room.

As Gwyneth closed the door behind Angela, Zoya daintily picked up her glass and sipped the crimson liquid. The tang of iron and vitality graced her taste buds and she let out a pleased hum.

“Still as fresh a vintage as she was ten years ago,” Zoya commented. “And not just in blood but body.”

“Lord Aleksandr’s done great work with his stock,” Gwyneth remarked as she walked over to the wall opposite the windows, and pressed her hand on one of the wooden panels. It slid down, revealing a large screen.

“Thank you, Gwyneth,” Zoya said as she put down her glass and licked her lips. She glanced down at her computer. “I suppose calling a bit earlier couldn’t hurt. Be best to keep Nadiya on her toes.”

“I highly doubt she’s ready for the call,” Gwyneth supplied her opinion. “Sometimes I find it hard to believe she’s your daughter, my lady.”

“I was hardly as diligent when I was a girl,” Zoya remarked.

“I think being over three-hundred is stretching the definition of ‘girl’, ma’am,” Gwyneth said. “Even accounting for your lifespans.”

“As long as she gets her assignments done in a timely and efficient manner and shows the proper deference when appropriate, then we can forgive her proclivities.” Zoya smiled. “There is a bit too much dourness here.”

“As you say, my lady,” Gwyneth bowed her head. “Shall I send the call?”

“You may,” Zoya answered as she gracefully stood up and walked over to stand in front of the screen. She ran her hands over her clothes, making sure they were impeccable. Even for family, she would look her best.

“Mother, you’re early!” Nadiya’s cheerful, bubbly voice blared over the speakers as she appeared on screen, completely nude.

“And yet, something tells me I didn’t just catch you before you could dress,” Zoya said in a flat voice.

“Wellll, I did want to get your opinion on some outfit choices,” Nadiya admitted, playing with the end of one of her braided lilac ponytails.

Zoya sighed but the ghost of a smile graced her lips. “I suppose you can show them to us while giving your report.”

“Aye, aye,” Nadiya saluted before she shamelessly turned away and skipped over to the large bed on the other side of her room, where a bevy of clothes lay.

Gwyneth sighed and adjusted her glasses as Nadiya’s butt swayed back and forth while she made her selection, prompting her to glance back with a smirk.

“Oh, don’t be a sour puss, Gwynie,” Nadiya teased, giving her hips a more pronounced sway. “I know you enjoyed the sendoff we had.”

“Pleasure and business have their own times when they’re appropriate,” Gwyneth protested. “There is a timetable in play.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nadiya brushed Gwyneth off.

“Daughter,” Zoya interjected, her voice firm. “There is much to discuss, and I’d rather it not eat up both of our nights.”

“Okay, okay,” Nadiya chimed as she began to dress, shimmying on a pair of pink lace panties, followed by a matching bra, hiding her small breasts from view as she turned around. “So, first impressions of Springfield, right?”

“This isn’t some vacation, my lady,” Gwyneth chided, as she glanced down at her tablet.

“But I’ve got to get a feel for the place before I can pick out anything weird,” Nadiya protested as she began to slip on a pink blouse. “See what the general feel of the people is before poking for weirdness.”

“We aren’t blessed with a great amount of time, Nadiya,” Zoya said in a serious tone. “If what our seers detected is one of the unaccounted powers beginning to stir, we can’t be caught unawares when it makes a more overt move.”

“I know, Mother,” Nadiya whined as she pulled up a black skirt. “If I can reveal what I’ve picked up so far, it might give us a lead.”

“You should have led with that, dear daughter,” Zoya cooly remarked, her slight irritation leaking into her voice. “If you keep playing around, I may not be able to secure you access to the Circus this year.”

Her threat had the intended effect and Nadiya let out a gasp. “You wouldn’t!”

“You know how hard it is to secure a spot for the festivities,” Zoya said with a grin. “They may not offer more than one ticket for the Clan. And I certainly can’t pass up the opportunity to network. Especially if one of the unaccounted is re-emerging.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll get to it,” Nadiya quickly said before darting out of frame. “While I was running around, I bumped into an interesting guy. Kind of plain looking, might have a harem. But he had some really interesting power about him. Not what the seers said to look for, but I figured it’d be good to make a doll.”

She reappeared, now holding a knit doll with brown yarn for hair and eyes. “See, so plain looking. But his aura was anything but. Only got a whiff, so I can’t really expand on it, but I think he’s got a lot of potential. Pretty good eye for companions too.”

“We don’t need to know his dating life,” Gwyneth commented.

“Well, at the moment, that’s about all I’ve got,” Nadiya sighed. “Tried to see where he’d been, but as I got close to where I think he lived, I picked up a lot of activity from those Order guys.”

“So he’s either on their radar already or under their protection,” Zoya muttered, the puzzle growing more complicated. “If the Order is mobilized, they may already be on the trail.”

“Want me to focus on them?” Nadiya asked.

“Only if you can do so in public,” Zoya answered. “While the stories of the Order’s zealousness are a bit overblown, they still are no friend to those of us that walk in the dark.”

“So find some hangout spot and hope for loose lips, got it,” Nadiya said.

“That will likely be a hard task,” Gwyneth spoke up, her fingers tapping the screen of her tablet. “With a faction as organized and militarized as the Order, finding someone to press for information will be a difficult task. And anyone with enough info to be of use to us will likely be disciplined enough to not talk at all about work when off the clock.”

“So, what? I just stick to sniffing around?” Nadiya inquired.

“See if you can find any more persons of interest,” Zoya replied. “If there aren’t, then see if you can pin down an area your mystery man frequents that have less of an Order presence. Between that potential you sensed and their interest in him is something that’s too suspicious with the timing.”

“More scouting, got it,” Nadiya said before giving a twirl. “Do I look ready for a night out on the town?”

Zoya smiled. “You look lovely, dear. But, please, be careful.”

Nadiya grinned, before flashing them a peace sign. “I will be. Call you soon!”

The call cut off and Gwyneth sighed. “Was it really the best play to send her alone? Every time she’s out alone, she plays around too much.”

“But she still gets her task done,” Zoya countered. “However, this may be more time-sensitive than those other incidents. We may need to bring in some help.”

“Help, my lady?” Gwyneth echoed, her head tilting just a fraction of an inch. “I was under the impression that our Lord wished to keep this as secret as possible.”

“I am well aware of what he wishes,” Zoya said as she moved back to her desk, placing her palms upon it as she leaned over. “But if one of the lost fragments is making a play, it will upset the balance of things. We don’t want any new aspirants coming in and trying to take what belongs to us. Better the forces we know remaining in power over some usurper upending everything.”

“I see.” Gwyneth nodded her head. “Then would you like me to start setting up a call with the Seekers?”

“Yes,” Zoya replied as she took her seat once more. “Hopefully, that infuriating man won’t give us the runaround like he usually does. This is bigger than his need to control everything.”

“Still, better to deal with him than one of his sons,” Gwyneth commented as she began to take her leave. “At least he knows to not expect everything to be handed to him solely because of his Innate Ability.”

Zoya nodded as Gwyneth exited the room and closed the door behind herself. She, too, would rather not involve their sister group. Their nature made them hard to work with, as they would try to take anything that grabbed their eye.

Letting out a sigh, she sank into her seat and pulled up an inventory of the clan’s resources. It wouldn’t hurt to have a list that they could use to entice cooperation.

---

A slight wind blew back Irene’s green hair, her ponytail dramatically flying behind her. She twirled her spear as she strolled down the forest path, a grin on her face.

‘Those brutes that are disrupting the supply convoys were this way, right?’ she thought as she sauntered down the path, her black dress swishing against her bare legs. An annoyed expression made its way to her face.

“Couldn’t have the decency to camp close to the entrance, could you?” she complained aloud. “No, you had to set up far away so anyone trying to kill you would have to tire themselves. How rude.”

Her grousing caused some nearby birds to take flight. Irene let out a sigh, and touched her choker, summoning her phone. The brief of her mission filled the screen and she began to read it once more.

“Large number of orcs, disrupting transport from the mines. Numbers between six and ten, moderately armed. Huh, moderately armed, really. Just what are we paying those guards for?”

Letting out an annoyed huff, she stored her phone away and kept moving, stomping down the path without a care about stealth, her black boots kicking up leaves and twigs. After a short while, her expression darkened.

“Are they really going to make me walk all the way to their base? What a bunch of pussies,” she swore. The snap of a stick caused her head to twist towards the source of the sound and a grin broke her annoyed expression when she saw an orc skulking about in the underbrush, the brute’s body tense with his cover blown.

‘Now, let’s see.’ Irene’s thoughts raced as she flared her mana, the world slowing to a crawl to her senses. ‘Padded coat, no sign of mail. Club for a weapon. Reach, about one and a half meters. Disposition, cautious, but slowly gaining confidence after seeing me. Looks like he’s going to underestimate me. Goodie.’

Irene let her thoughts return to default speed and she waited for the orc to make his move. Her green skinned enemy’s demeanor shifted, now fully seeing who was waltzing into their territory, a twisted grin growing on his face, revealing gnarled teeth. He made no attempt to warn her off or parley, only letting out an excited yell and lifting his weapon arm high as he emerged from the brush.

“Not a talker, huh?” Irene said before her lips stretched into a grin. “Fine by me.”

She spun her spear about then flared her mana as she readied to spring into action. Out from the orc, a translucent copy appeared, running towards her, the real one matching its movements a second later. When the copy moved to attack her, Irene sprang into action, striking with her spear right before the real orc attacked, easily piercing the **** flesh of his underarm.

Her interruption of his movements caused the copy to glitch out, quickly changing its place and posture to reflect the wounded orc’s new future. But Irene didn’t need to know anymore and ceased her spell. The orc was wounded and bleeding, he only had one future left.

A brief one.

---

Irene’s breath came in light pants as she stared at her final opponent. The orc boss was far larger than his now dead and dying underlings and much better equipped. A chainmail coat and broadsword were a much better match against her than the random armaments the subordinates used.

Worse was the fact the orc leader clearly had some decent experience in fighting, meaning she couldn’t cheese him by reading his near future.

‘I did want a challenge,’ she thought, as she tensed for combat. That signaled the orc boss that the fight was on and he let out some warcry she didn’t understand before he launched himself at her, sword gleaming in the light. A quick activation of her scrying magic let Irene know his intended strike and she moved to counter it once he committed to it.

Spear met sword with a shower of sparks and a sharp rasp of metal sliding across metal. The orc kept close, preventing Irene from leveraging the reach of her weapon. The competence of her enemy made her grin grow wilder as she tried to make distance. Her heart raced as they continued to strike at each other, both of them just able to avoid getting struck. With their skills about even, the smallest thing would signal the end of the duel, and it was fate that would decide that.

And Irene wasn’t a big fan of fate.

With a flare of mana, Irene peered into the orc’s future, the phantom of likely motion showing his aggressive next moves. She feigned a strike to the right, one that would demand the orc to pivot to block or to disengage to avoid. She saw the orc would move to parry and with a burst of speed altered the course of her spear, striking before he could twist his body.

Caught by surprise, the orc boss’ future projection spurted as it changed, revealing a wound to its neck. A second later, reality matched prediction as Irene’s spear dug into his jugular. She tore her weapon out and bounded back, letting her spell fade as the orc let out a strangled cry. He tried to strike her down before **** took him, but the blood loss was too fast and he fell before he could reach her.

Irene let out a triumphant laugh, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She kept laughing as she made her way to a stump that served as a chair. She sat down upon it and took a deep breath, getting her jubilation under control. Touching her choker, she summoned her phone and began a call.

“Reporting in,” she said once the call connected. “Primary threat dealt with. Secondary elements appear to be routed.”

“Excellent work as always, Irene,” the smooth male voice on the other end said. “Father will be most pleased to hear that the mine’s no longer under threat.”

Irene rolled her eyes before saying, “I strive for excellence, sir.”

“And that’s all we ask of our agents,” her superior said. “Now, while I know you have scheduled time off after this mission, there is an opportunity beginning to arise that you might be interested in.”

“What’s the details?” Irene asked.

“Nothing set in stone yet,” came the reply. “But our night loving associates have reached out to us regarding some portents they’ve had. It seems like they want a joint operation in ferreting it out.”

“So if I take this, I’m in a holding pattern until things are ironed out?” Irene asked.

“That is the case,” came the reply.

“Never liked long breaks away,” Irene said. “Sign me up.”

“Excellent, I’ll make sure Father knows you’re good. No guarantee you’ll be picked, but I think you’re on the short list.”

‘Damn right, I’m on the short list,’ Irene thought hotly. There wasn’t any other agent in the Seekers with her track record of successful operations. She was too dedicated to settle for anything less.

“Understood,” she said. “I’ll be waiting for the call.”

“Have a good rest.”

The line went dead and Irene sighed as she put her phone away. Stretching her arms out, she let out a groan.

“Time to head back. Next time I have to deal with shit like this, I’m going to demand a bike or something.”

---

Unbearable heat bloomed across Narine’s skin as another died, struck down by the weapon linked to her. In the dark of her cell, the light that traced the path of the wound dealt to the victim glowed red, right over her heart. She could almost feel that accursed blade as it plunged into their flesh, claiming their anger, hate and fear to stoke the Forge as they died.

She grit her teeth as the pain burned, straining against the bonds that held her, that restrained both her movement and magic. Yelling wouldn’t help; cursing her ‘father’ would just leave her hoarse and any attempt to escape would be met by those half-dead flesh golems he had begun to employ, if she even managed to leave her cell.

The anger she felt was a callback to rage long absent. The time between sacrifices was about forty days as best she could tell and after a few she would slip into torpor, waiting in a state of semi-consciousness for the next time. It had become so repetitive that the pain that assailed her as the wounds dealt to the sacrifices were etched onto her porcelain skin barely roused her anymore.

But today, when she awoke as pain itched over her skin from the minor wounds being inflicted before the final blow, she was filled with energy. And fury. There was something at the edge of her mind. Some dream that danced in the space between memory and imagination, its details fading but emotion still strong.

There had been a man, his features hazy. But there was one thing that stood out even after the pain had washed away everything else. His eyes were kind, the naked desire to help so clear it burrowed deep within her heart. And being wrenched from the promise of such tantalizing relief had stoked her ire, the likes of which she hadn’t felt in ages.

‘That wasn’t just some dream, was it?’ she wondered sometime later, her emotions subdued. It was the only answer she could come up with as to why she was fully awake after so long. Someone had reached her and given her a sense of peace.

Her hand clenched into a fist as she pulled on the chain that ran from her wrist to the wall. She expected it to go taut like it had in the past, but it pulled further than her expectations and where it was bolted to the wall shifted. The magic that held her waivered slightly, its hold over her fading the smallest amount.

In the darkness, she smiled as her heart began to soar. If she could pull the chains free, she could escape. She could find whoever had given her hope.

“No,” she said in a raspy, disused voice, a small spark of flame appearing before her face, illuminating her amber eyes and perpetually short white hair. “I will.”

Thanks again for reading this little story. If you liked the chapter, please hit that thumbs up, and if you want to support my writing, check out my Patreon at https://www.patreon.com/ScrapCrow. Get access to my chapters before they’re published here and join my private Discord.