"I've missed this." Netsu's rough, crow-like voice made the remark sound ominous.
Balisk had little interest in the burned man's rotten sentimentalities, but they had been waiting for some time, and it seemed they may have to wait even longer. He feigned intrigue at the comment: "What would that be?"
"Your inability to make conversation while we wait to kill someone."
"Kill? We are here to negotiate. And it is not an inability, it is a lack of desire."
Netsu clicked his tongue. "Kill, negotiate, it does not matter. It will end the same way, with us getting what we want."
Balisk shook his head but said nothing. He could feel Netsu's sharp eyes pincering him.
"This has always been your problem. You are a coward when it comes to disagreement. Still, you should see that any negotiations are useless. The King and Queen could not even grace us with their presence. Instead, we wait for their lowly Vizier. They seem to believe we, representatives of the Shadekillers, are not worth their time. I intend to make them regret such a notion. Do you take issue with this?"
He returned Netsu's stare with an indignant one of his own. "Your thought-paths are like burning bridges, Netsu. Once you travel down one, you will not turn back. Caitann is the only one that can dissuade you from insanity, and clearly he is suffering from his own, considering he has given you this mission."
"Hmm…I don't recall you using similes so much. Did your playtime as Count mold you into speaking this way? Is that what power does to someone? Please, Bal, when I'm ruling the Shadekillers, do not let me ever use a metaphor in front of you." The scarred red flesh around Netsu's mouth loosened to make way for his demented grin.
Two burly guards waiting by the grand silver doors averted their eyes.
"If you are ruling the Shadekillers, I will not be alive."
Netsu's grin slid off his face like rainwater off an oily metal sheet.
"Of course you will be. Who else would I appoint as my Councilor?"
Balisk laughed dryly, in disbelief.
"How about your Petalman? It certainly acts human enough. Why not let it be a Councilor? Regardless, it will not be me. Perhaps you will kill all of the Blades and rule the Shadekillers, but I will not serve you. Not for one heartbeat."
Netsu's face was a blank canvas, lacking the usual smears of rage or hatred he painted uncaringly for anyone to see. That was unusual.
Balisk looked away as he heard the scraping sound of the silver doors opening.
Netsu stood from their sofa. "It seems the lowly Vizier is ready for us."
Standing at the door was a tall bald woman dressed in a fine silk gown. If her clothes were not already a signifier of her prestigious status, the snow white wings on her back decorated with silver and gold jewelry pronounced it boldly.
"Greetings. You may follow me now." Her voice was clear and crisp, like the pleasant trickling of a forest stream.
They followed the Vizier as she moved gracefully through the maze of palace halls.
This was the first time Balisk or Netsu had ever been to the Wingfolk city, much less in their royal palace.
To Balisk, the patterned marble floors and the bright white walls inlaid with silver were garish. His castle in Solun had been simple—gray stone, wood, and a few aging murals of the land—but that simplicity was beautiful. The people of Solun were simple too. They came to him seeking security, with only a desire to live in peace and provide for themselves. His lieutenants, Barog, Jemeen, and Valdo, had a similar perspective.They wanted to better the city, to make its foundation so solid it could not ever be shaken.
As he had every day since rejoining the Shadekillers, he felt the weight of it all, crushing him. His people, his city, his lieutenants, all gone. They could not have stood a chance against the full force of the Niven.
How would it have started? A storm of fireballs flying over the walls, lighting the city aflame?
He brought himself to that moment, when the only scent more overpowering than the heat was the smell of smoke and charred human flesh.
Or, perhaps it began quietly. Perhaps the Niven crept into the city and massacred the guardhouse first, before moving onto the citizens. Who could have stopped them? A few guards with the ability of a tunk? Impossible. The Rockmen? They would have lasted the longest, but still, not long. Valdo? No, Valdo was a smart man, but there was nothing a smart, meatless man could do when facing hundreds of flame-wielding Niven.
Only he could have fought them. Only he could have protected Solun.
How could he carry the weight of his failure? It seemed impossible. He had deserted the Shadekillers for that exact reason: the burdens of a never-ending war had been too much for him.
And now he was back, under the constant oversight of the man that had taken away everything he had worked for.
He would at least incinerate that bastar…
He had gotten too lost in thought. Netsu was no longer walking beside him. He looked back towards where they came from. The hall was completely empty.
A difficult way to start off negotiations that would already be difficult enough.
"Vizier, it seems my…companion is no longer with us."
She stopped walking and turned around. A slight look of annoyance touched her pale face like she was having to deal with a bloodbug buzzing around the dinner table.
"We are nearly at the meeting room. I will alert the guards to look for him. We will discuss the intended matters whether he is here or not. Truthfully, his face was making me rather sick, so I do hope we can finish our discussion before he returns."
"Very well."
They continued for a short time through the palace halls before arriving at another silver door. The Vizier spoke to a guard standing by the door and, once finished, the guard briskly marched back the direction they came from.
The room past the silver door was small but comfortably furnished, with a sofa and five plush cushioned chairs arranged around a circular white stone table in the middle of the room. One of the room's walls was not a wall, but one giant window, looking out into the clusters of gray clouds that mottled the blue sky.
The Vizier sat in a chair facing away from the window. Balisk sat opposite her.
She adjusted one of the ornate pieces of jewelry pierced into her wing that seemed to cause some discomfort, and leaned back in her chair.
"Would you like a glass of wine?" She poured herself a glass of the dark red liquid from the carafe on the table.
"No, thank you."
"Are you sure? Our wine is finer than anything you windless ones can make. Stronger too. You have the face of a man that has lost as many battles as he has won. It may be difficult to keep battling. The wine makes things easier."
Balisk accepted a glass, not disagreeing with her observation. He took a large sip and came to the conclusion she was also not lying about the strength.
She gulped down half of her glass and refilled it.
"Now that we've loosened our tongues, we can discuss. What do the Shadekillers need from us now?"
"As you may know, the Shadebringers are becoming more aggressive. They have started to venture past the Ebb Mountains. Three small villages close to the Ebb were destroyed in the past 10 wiqs. The first had cracks running through houses and jagged scorch marks on the ground. The next looked like it had been pierced by a hundred spears the size of trees. The last…it was difficult to tell it had been a village. It was as if a giant boulder rolled through and crushed everything and everyone. There were a few survivors from the first two towns. None from the last. One of the survivors from the first town claimed that he saw not one Shadebringer, but three. Do you know what this signifies, Vizier?"
He tried to embed his words with some sort of…emotion, but really, he no longer cared about this war. That burning desire for revenge against the Shadebringers that once occupied his every thought as a child had long since dulled to a few flickering embers.
"It sounds as if you will soon have some very large and deadly problems to deal with."
"Likely, yes. But of more import, there has clearly been some sort of…alliance created between the different shadebringers. Those of stone, water, and light, are in the alliance assuredly, and perhaps even the wind and the firebringers are too, if there are any still remaining. You can recognize the extreme danger of this, can you not?"
The Vizier traced her finger around the rim of her wine glass.
"There will always be danger as long as the Shadebringers exist. That is why we have so graciously provided the Shadekillers with the ores from our mines. That is why we have provided you with weapons of the finest quality, sold at prices so cheap, the smiths here would storm the palace if they knew. So, tell me precisely, what else do you require?" She crossed her arms, her lips pursed together tightly.
He had wanted to avoid a direct proposition. It would have been better if she came to the realization herself, but that was not going to happen.
"The Shadebringers have finally realized that we are a threat. Not bugs they can step on. With that realization comes their increased aggression, but also more caution. In times prior, we could travel through the Ebb mountains and into their territory. We would never make it far, but we had started to establish an idea of where they are located, and ways we can reach them. That is no longer possible. They stationed guardians to watch the mountains. In the past 20 wiqs, we've sent 8 different groups to break or sneak their way through. None have returned alive. If we cannot make it through the Ebb, we will never be able to extinguish them."
The vizier leaned forward. "I will not ask again. What do you require from us?"
"We need your people. 30-50 of you would be able to get close enough to scout the mountains for us and look for potential ways to get through. With the skill of your warriors in the air, the risk would be min—
"No. Absolutely not. I see now why you have tried to dance around your request. You and your masters know that we will never be directly involved in the war with the Shadebringers."
"Is that true? One of your people has already—"
The vizier's chair screeched against the floor as she stood up. "DO NOT SPEAK OF THAT DISGRACE!"
She took a breath to calm herself.
"Our answer is no. A guard will come to lead you out."
Just as she began to walk away from the table, the silver door opened. Netsu stepped through and shut the door behind him.
"Are you leaving already, Vizier?"
"I have finished discussing with your companion. My answer to your request is no. Tell your masters that we will not meet again if they send a man with no respect and a man who cannot even attend the meeting. Goodbye."
"Please, wait for just one heartbeat. I do sincerely apologize for being late. As we were walking, I realized that it is custom for us wingless ones to deliver a gift upon coming to your city. I came ill-prepared and wished to rectify that. Will you at least accept my gift before leaving?"
Balisk struggled to understand what he was hearing. The Vizier seemed similarly surprised by his cordialness. She glanced at the door, then back at Netsu.
"Well, perhaps if your gift is worthwhile we can discuss other ways for our people to assist you."
Netsu's face shifted into its usual haunting smile. He reached into a pocket on the inside of his white cloak.
"If you will, hold out your hand, Vizier."
She obliged, a look of expectant satisfaction darting through her eyes.
As he placed his clasped hand on hers, he said, "I could not help but be mesmerized by the jewelry on your wings, so I thought this would be a fitting addition."
In the Vizier's palm was a golden heart-shaped leaf. There were maroon colored stains on the intricately crafted piece of jewelry, like a few drops of wine had been spilled on it.
The Vizier brought the jewelry closer to her face to inspect. Her brown eyes ballooned into dark murky ponds.
She opened her mouth but said nothing. Two heartbeats of silence passed.
"How…" Her voice was quiet and broken.
"Is it not to your liking, Vizier? I can get a different piece if you'd like. There was a silver one that swirled like a whirl-pool, I found it quite beautiful. Would you like that one? I can make sure it is a bit more…clean this time."
The golden leaf clanged against the ground as it fell from her trembling hand.
Balisk saw the talons emerge from her fingers, how her balance shifted so that her knees dipped towards the floor. He could have stopped her. He did not.
She lunged towards Netsu in half a heartbeat. Before she could reach him, his body evaporated in a black mist.
Unable to stop her momentum, she collided into one of the white stone walls. A thin stream of blood trickled down from her bald head. She got up slowly, in a daze.
The black mist materialized behind her. Netsu grabbed hold of her, bringing his shadow blade just under her chin.
"I can be anywhere. Today, I chose to go to your son's room and rip out that little gold leaf. Tell me, where should I be tomorrow?"
Tears diluted the stream of blood still trickling down her face.
"You…you will be executed for this. I will tell the king and queen! THEY WILL EXECUTE YOU! YOU HAVE MADE THE SHADEKILLERS OUR ENEMY!"
"No, I don't believe I will be executed, nor will you tell the king and queen. You will agree to give us 30 of your warriors, and you will send them to the Ebb discreetly. When you leave this room, you will go to your quarters, check on your son, and stay there for the rest of the day. Would you like to know how I know this? It is because I will be watching you, Vizier. From the shadow under your window sill. From the shadow of your bed's canopy. But most often, from your own. And if I believe you are about to betray me, I will sink this blade through your son's heart, and then yours. Do you understand?"
She whimpered like a pup cornered by a rabid beast.
Netsu lifted his blade higher, until it was so close to her chin, even the slightest movement would draw blood.
"Do you understand, Vizier?"
"...yes. I will…I will get you the warriors and never tell anyone about this. Please, do not hurt my son. Please."
Netsu let his blade drop and pushed her away. "That is entirely dependent on your actions, not mine. Clean yourself up, Vizier. We will leave first. Come, Bal."
Balisk stood, took a folded cloth from his cloak and placed it in the Vizier's shaking hand.
In the palace halls they passed several patrolling guards, but none tried to stop them from leaving.
Once they made it outside, Balisk immediately formed his blue flame wings and shot into the sky, holding Netsu by the arm as they left the silver city of Wingfolk behind.
He flew downward, until he could clearly make out the necessary landmarks on the ground to direct them back to Auros Lepida.
Netsu shouted to be heard above the crackling of his wings and the gusts of wind, "I COULD HAVE DONE FAR WORSE TODAY, BAL. I'VE CHANGED SINCE YOU LEFT. YOU WILL SEE THAT IN TIME."
Balisk said nothing. Netsu had grown stronger, far stronger it seemed, but he was incapable of any other kind of growth. He was the type of man to destroy an entire city, to destroy my city to get what he wanted.
Rage coursed through Balisk's veins and boiled his blood.
He loosened his grip on Netsu's arm until he was holding just the wool of his tunic.
It would be so easy to let go…
He readjusted his grip so that he was holding his arm once again.
"YOU DID NOT DROP ME! HAHAHAHAHA. PERHAPS YOU HAVE CHANGED AS WELL!"
They flew the rest of the way in silence.
Solun had changed him. And then, the city was taken away from him, but, maybe there was still something there, a foundation that could be built upon.
Eventually, he would return to Solun. But only when Netsu and the Blades were ash under his boots; only then would the boiling in his blood turn to a tepid simmer.