“That looks painful,” I tell Raven, looking at the nasty burn on their hand.
The sumeen stares at me with unbridled fury. “Oh, does it now?!” they hum, their voice simmering with restrained anger, authority thick and heavy in the room.
“Well, how was I meant to know the enchantment was for you? I was just held at knifepoint, told to enchant a knife. The runes were even a warning. I carved instructions into it,” I say with a shrug.
That just makes Raven boil more. The air in the aviary goes thick with tension, but I just sigh softly. “Tell you what, Raven,” I say succinctly. “You show me a bit of leeway here. Don’t try to scam me in the future, and you won’t get faulty products.”
All I get in response to that is an angry hiss, and I raise my hands placatingly. “I know, I know. But I’ve been selling to you for dirt cheap already, Raven.”
“You just raised your prices,” they say with the sound of clenching fists. Their cloak of stygian feathers bristles at their anger, their form looming large over me.
But I just tilt my head. “I improved,” I say simply. “The enchantments are better.”
“Sell them at the same price, Yuki, or we’ll have problems,” they hiss. I see thugs reaching for their weapons. Getting ready to cut me down if I make a wrong move, and I frown.
“Raven,” I say calmly. “Is this really what you want our business relationship to become? Do you want to double check every single item I give you for sabotage? Let’s be reasonable, here. I’ve done my job well. Don’t burn this bridge.”
Those words make them actually reconsider for once. I see their long limbs tighten under their skin, shifting into blades. The anger pools thick around them, frustrated that I’d rebuff their arrogance and authority. That’s the biggest part.
Their authority. Raven is an ascender. Someone who genuinely climbed to the fifth floor of the tower. They crossed level 100, they claimed an authority, and they’re used to wielding it like a sledgehammer over the common gangsters and flobs. But I just don’t break under it.
Frankly, I wouldn’t have broken even if I were lower level. Maybe in my 30s, I think?
Very slowly, Raven rakes their blade-limbs across the table. Then, the sumeen stares at me, blank faceplate locked in place. The air grows thick with the promise of violence, until, finally, it breaks.
They lean back. Raven, gang-leader and apparently greedy backstabber, crosses their limbs in front of their chest. “Fine,” they say. “Fine, we pay your price.”
Smiling happily, I drop the items on the table in front of them. A sack of newly made knives, cloaks, shields and such. Their breath hitches for a moment as they stare. “They’re… blank.”
[Obfuscation 3 > 4]
Tilting my head, I stare. “Are they? I’m pretty sure I enchanted them.” Casually, I pick one up, and pour mana into it, making the blade hum softly. I press down and it digs into the wooden table. “Nope, they’re definitely enchanted.”
“Why can’t I see the runes,” Raven demands, leaning forward again.
“Oh, well, I thought you’d want to surprise any rivals. Make them think you’re using normal gear, then have better things than they expected,” I explain calmly.
Raven growls, an angry, low hum that makes my ears ring and the hair on the back of my neck rise. “Show me the runes, flob.”
Slowly, calmly, I shake my head. “Apologies, but I am no longer comfortable with that.”
Again, they just stare for a while. Their authority squeezes me, but it’s not as bad as being touched. It’s more like there’s a clamp pressing down on my heart. More painful, and makes it harder to breathe, but less invasive. So, we stare each other down, my face remaining placidly calm.
“Yuki,” they say, growling the name. “I am only willing to tolerate so much shit, flob.”
Sagely, I nod. “You’ve found my bottom line,” I say calmly.
At that, their gaze narrows. “Your bottom line?” they ask, and the ravens in the aviary let out a cacophony of mocking screeches.
“My bottom line,” I confirm. Raven lets out a hum of disapproval, but then huffs in amusement.
“Fine,” they admit, suddenly easily. “Fine, fine, fine. Was just a little test, Yuki. To make sure ye weren’t holding out on us, y’see?” they say, giving me a flourish and a bow, their tone shifting instantly. “I was worried you were hiding greater prowess.”
Nodding softly, I reply. “I see.”
At my small reply, the den around me erupts into snickers. The raven’s little birds sound more like hyenas as they cackle at me. I really can’t believe that these are some of the better gangs that run in the fifth ring, but I guess that’s what being in the gutters will do. So I just wait it out, let the noise wash over me, until the Raven finally drops me the chits I’m owed.
“Well then, Yuki. Pleasure doing business with you,” they say. With a quick motion, I take the coins, and my purse turns heavier than usual. Then I nod, and rise from my seat.
“Be seeing you,” I tell them.
Raven fixes my back with a long stare. “Don’t be late,” they hum, with a sinister tone.
It’s a real shame, but I’m beginning to think I’ll have to carve the admission token for the mono out of them.
- - -
Zinc serves me a meal in the inn. It’s a full thing, with vegetables that I don’t quite recognize. Something like rice and tomatoes, drenched in a sauce that’s almost coconutty. I eat slowly, letting myself enjoy the flavours blooming in my mouth, when the door flies open.
“Ah, Yuki, it is… so very good to see you,” Sylves rasps, clutching her side, blood dribbling through her fingers. “You see, my dear friend. It looks like I’ve been stabbed.” As she says so, a low laugh escapes her lips and she stumbles inside.
I swiftly catch her, holding her steady. Blood dribbles onto the floor, and my shadow eagerly catches the drops before they stain the stone. “Could you… take me upstairs? My mana isn’t cooperating right,” she says slowly. I tilt my head, and feel a pinprick of sensation from the wound. Poison.
Nodding, I pick her up. With my current power stat, carrying something that weighs as much as a regular human isn’t a lot of trouble. I can’t stack six or seven people like Inu or Opal, but if it’s just Sylves, I can carry her easily.
She giggles at that. “My, my, if I knew all it took to be carried like a princess was a stabbing, I would have done it earlier…” she snickers again, then wraps her hands around my neck, closing her eyes.
“Stay awake,” I chide her, blowing air into her face, which promptly makes her splutter.
“That’s no way to treat a fairy!” she complains.
Shaking my head, I take her upstairs. “Let’s get you healed. And then, we can take a bite out of whoever stabbed you.”
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