Freya replied "My master sent me to warn you that Elder Ziron is to voice his desire of changing the rules of succession during the Council of Elders. He has this in plan in mind since it seems his young heiress is near to master her Kowadja."
Another puff of smoke filled the air. Arman looked at his son who is also sitting proudly in the couch across him. His long legs were crossed, and the young man was still wearing his suit. Actually, both were still on their formal attires. Like the Kandas, the Pakjawan has held a dinner meeting of their own.
Arman asked his son, "Bryan, what do you think?"
Bryan chuckled and with his deep voice he answered his father, "'near to master' is not threatening at all. Although, I am interested in seeing her Kowadja."
The oldest one in the room felt proud with his son's confidence. "You will have that chance my son. Not only will they see hers, but your Kowadja as well and you will prove how you, a Pakjawan, is stronger than them. You will prove who is the true heir of Taray."
Arman took a glance at Freya. Two years ago, this woman came into his doorsteps bringing a proposition and along with her is another woman who looked sick and depress.
(2 years ago…)
"Good day sir. Forgive me for the sudden and rude intrusion. My name is Freya, and I was sent by my master to you."
Arman irritated by such vague introduction replied, "Who is this master? For what purpose is this visit?"
Freya unperturbed by the Elder's intimidation explained, "I was sent here that my master may kindle alliance with the clan of Pakjawan. My master deemed that the enemies of Ziron Kandas must be his friends."
Arman laughed, "Friendship entails trust. You have yet told me who this master is. How can I trust a stranger who also hides behind a servant, and a woman at that?"
Freya, unflinching, smiled, "Yes. Trust. I assure you sir, soon you shall meet the one who sent me. But I think you will be more interested on what my master offers than knowing who he is. But before that, Elder have you heard of the rumors?"
Arman folded his brows, "Rumors?"
Noticing that the Elder's interest was piqued, Freya continued, "There has been whispers around, that a clan is trying to revive the dead gift."
Arman did not reply. A signal for Freya to continue. "You see, my master caught a dog sniffing around rubbles."
After saying this, Freya brought out from a handbag a small box which she placed on the coffee table in between them. Arman took the box, opened it then suddenly threw it away from him---it was a rotting index finger with a familiar ring.
"That belonged to my servant, Gerald! Where is he!" Arman yelled.
" We can deliver his corpse to you, if it will aid in the forming of alliance between you and my master." Freya said still with a calm smile in her face, "Please Sir. Do not fret. Your servant was exceptional as he was able to find something that would interest you. Unfortunately, it also interested my master, and your loyal servant died trying to secure it."
The sarcasm was getting on his nerves. Though he has no attachment to a servant, his pride as the master is being shred to pieces by a mystery person. Freya kept probing, "Though as my master said, 'why make enemies when one can make friends.'"
This time, Freya brought out a glass leaded jar from her handbag. There was clear fluid inside and to Anton's astonishment a fetus, half an arm in size, was floating in it and was well preserved. But what astonished Anton the most, was the color of its eyes that was peeking through its half-opened eyes. It was the shade specific for those cursed clan members.
"This?! How were you able to get this?!" Arman exclaimed.
"As I told you, it was your servant who found it. All of us thought that fire burned them all. But underneath the ashes and rubbles, the dead were able to protect their graves."
"So this might not the only thing in there then? Where is it?" Arman demanded.
"Sometime, I can accompany your men there, but, as I told you sir, even though the crypt looked like desolated and empty, it is still heavily protected. It is as if the place has a guarding spirit. The only thing with weak protection is this thing. When my master tried to go in, the crypt crumbled."
Freya momentarily stopped to let the older man collect his thoughts, "In your hands, Sir, is the remaining trace of that cursed clan. You have been searching for a means to recreate their power, my master is giving that means to you."
Arman, now fully interested, "And what does your master want from me in return?"
"In order to recreate that," Freya pointed at the specimen in front of her, "there is a need of a facility equipped with the right devices and personnel. It is well known sir, that you are a great benefactor of Cordella Research Institute."
The Elder laughed, " I see that you have made your digging. However, do you think that facility will care to take this task? Science of today ignore the truth hidden in the shadows and put it as mysticism. If it will not benefit the needs and wants of the 'regular' humanity, then it will be ignored."
Both became silent. However, Freya spoke once again, determined to carry out her master's bidding, "But there are those people who still make effort to benefit the 'other' humanity, are there not? That is why you Sir, established your own research facility, an underground one, did you not?"
Arman kept silent. Even if Gerald were tortured for answers, he would be confident that the servant won't talk about his underground research facility. Only close kin and clan members with the same goal as his know about it.
Freya smiled, "We indeed did some digging Sir."
"What is the goal of your Master?" Arman asked demandingly.
Freya smiled even more. "As I have mentioned, my master wants to befriend Ziron's enemies."
Taking Arman's silence as sign of agreement, Freya introduced the woman sitting beside her, "By the way, this is Merryl Sullivan. Ms. Sullivan has more or less the same goal as my master, thus she had agreed to help us as well. My master hopes that the Pakjawan treat her well. These are all what my Master asks for now."
Arman looked at Merryl who was now staring back at him, "What is your goal woman?"
Devoid of emotions, Merryl replied, "I have a personal feud that I need to settle with someone."
Arman laughed, "And what did the great Ziron done to you to merit your anger?"
Merryl shook her head, "No. Not him. I don't know him. My feud is with my father, Tommuel Pas-ang."