A well dressed woman stood before a rooftop entrance to the penthouse. The Chanel pink suit contrasted with the greenery and cottage core vibes surrounding the locked fence. A white picket fence draped with fake ivy, fairy lights and potted trees in massive tree pots made the usual empty space homey and welcoming. From within the woman could see the penthouse and wrinkled her twice bought nose in fury.
"How much longer?" The woman sneered. She barely looked up from her cellphone, long gold-stamped acrylic nails tapping away on the screen.
"Another hour, Mrs. Winscot." Said a portly man in an ill fitting suit. Beside him was Mr. Smith from the Lotus Guild, his face tight with worry.
Mrs. Winscot shot a hateful glare at Mr. Smith from behind her heavily tinted sunglasses. "Two hours? How long does the contract state that a hunter has to be dead before their property changes hands? I don't have all day for this."
"Such odd words for someone supposedly mourning." A sudden voice from behind the group said. The building had its quirks, mostly that the elevator did not go all the way to the roof. One had to get off two floors before and walk up the old stairs up to the roof entrance. From there would be access to the penthouse's oasis in the city on one side, and on the other basic maintenance machinery such as A/C, heating and venting.
A tall suited man walked through the squeaky door, his impressive shoulder width made him have to sidestep his way through. He stood easily a full head above Mrs. Winscot and her expensive heels.
The woman pulled a deadly shade of white at the sight. "Chairman!"
Sure enough it was the Chairman of the Lotus Guild, Alistair Orion. The suit he wore shimmered in the soft sunlight, the hair fine threads of gold and silk showed the sheer expense of the fabric. Alistair snapped his suit jacket smooth once he came to stand by the group.
Mr Smith might as well be pronounced dead from how green he looked. "Chi..ch...a...chai...chairman Orion" He sputtered, nearly trembling in his loafers.
Mrs Winscot's cheeks burned with fury as she glared, "Of course I'm mourning the lost of my sweet niece."
"Oh? Then why is it that I've been informed that a ploy was going on in one of my dungeons?" The air was frigid around Chairman Orion, staring death down at the pale. Mr. Smith almost fainted. Mrs. Winscot sucked a breath between her perfect teeth.
"A ploy?"
"Yes. That someone has been trying to have one of my hunters murdered in the depths of a Locus affiliated dungeon." Chairman Orion leaned back, arms crossed over his chest. The seams of the fine suit struggled to keep in the man's muscle mass.
"How would I know what goes on in those nasty places?" Mrs. Winscot eyed her phone, counting down the seconds. "Why are you here? Mr. Smith is here to oversee transfer."
"Because Miss Kasper isn't dead."
The woman's eyes bugged out of her head at that, she flashed a murderous look Mr. Smith. Her fist tightened so hard she nearly popped all the acrylics off her own nails.
"She isn't," Mrs. Winscot hissed the words between her clenched teeth. "Her watch was off for two days. No signal."
"Why would you know that?" Chairman Orion glared at her. "Hunter status is forbidden to be spoken with non guild members."
Only then did the woman snap her jaw shut so fast her teeth clicked, her fingers flew over her phone. Only to have the chairman pull the phone out of her hand, already furiously typing the family lawyer.
He glared as he threw it back into her hands. The woman struggled to grab it before the phone hit the concrete. "Best to call quickly."
There was a woosh behind them and a large shadow overhead. All looked up in awe of the sight.
It was like an angel descended from heaven itself. A long white cloak spread out either side of the woman like a pair of sparkling white wings. Her arms spread wide to slow her descent through the air. Two strangers by the woman's side landed before her, both turning back to hold their hands out. The descending angel's hands flew into theirs, landing with an unearthly grace. The oversized hood fell back, exposing a familiar face behind the long strands of silky looking curls flying around her.
Oz barely contained the bloodlust that ran through her, her hand flew back to the hilt of the short sword. Every instinct in her body wanted to run the blade through Smith's worthless hide then through her aunt. But the woman was so heartless, she doubted it would kill her.
Nahern and Selene stood protectively before the hunter.
"Chairman?" She asked curiously, the bloodlust quickly faded as she saw the guild leader. The impressive man looked pale, almost sickly green.
"It is good to see you alive Hunter Kasper." Chairman Orion smiled at her. She blinked in confusion.
"Ah yes! Yes, alive and well." Mr. Smith rubbed his hands together nervously, mimicking the fly she thought was. Always hovering around shit.
Aunt Winscot glared at her, a furious hate burning in her eyes. Oz returned the glance, sticking out her chin slightly.
"What do you want Aunt?"
"I heard you were dead."
"Clearly you had bad information. I'm alive as you can see. Alive and well." Oz motioned to herself, her skin crawling under the inspection of her aunt's look. The hateful look turned into one of confusion.
"This woman is an imposter!" Her aunt yelled, nearly screeching out. "This is NOT my niece. Look at her! My niece is a butterball, not some..."
The blood lust leaked out again, enough Oz swore she saw a red haze in her vision. It wasn't just her, the siblings also tensed up. Nahern let out a hiss of a breath, the air turning frigid. Selene slid her hand back, about to pull the sword from its hiding place.
Oz walked forward, dragging out her wallet from her book bag. The wallet fell open, holding her hunter license.
"Ozel Kasper. Rank D Hunter. Pack Mule." She recited the title as the Chairman looked over the ID. Mr. Smith tensed when he was under the weight of her full glare, the man shivering nonstop.
"This is impossible! You are not my niece."
"And you are not my aunt, now get off my property before I call the cops. Or better yet." Oz paused to crack her knuckles. A loud resounding pop echoed in response. "I'll toss you the roof myself."
Aunt Winscot paled in horror then righteous fury, "You miserable little bitch!" She hissed.
"You should be dead!"
Oz stuffed the wallet back into her bag as she shrugged, "Sucks to suck."
"And these are?"
Nahern glided to her side, nearly standing as tall as the chairman. The pair eyed each other silently. The prince then held his hand over his chest.
"I am Nahern Everthorn. Miss Kasper's assistant."
"And I am Selene Everthorn, Miss Kasper's personal aid." Selene gestured to herself with one hand, the other looping through Oz's arm.
If looks could kill, her aunt would have murdered her multiple times over. Years of magical treatments were failing in her fury. Wrinkles exposed under magical botox and magical powders.
"As you can see, I am quite fine and healthy. But in much need of rest."
"How did you survive the dungeon then?" Mr Smith squeaked out, her aunt's eyes twinkled in cruel delight.
"Exactly!"
"I am immune to Dungeon Fog of course, I hid in a safe space until I could make it through the tunnel collapse. I'm quite tired." Oz fanned her cheek. After time in the snowy cold, the heat of the real world made her feel sticky and sweaty.
Chairman Orion frowned at that, "We sent many to look through but there was no sight of anyone surviving the tunnel collapse."
"Milady is exhausted sir, she is ready to faint on her feet. Let us speak later on this topic." Nahern's tone broke through the tension. "I ask that you return tomorrow and we can have a proper conversation of worker's rights and the actions taken by your guild that led to her injuries. For now, she has shown her identity and her health. She needs to rest and recover."
The Chairman eyed the group, Oz blinked at his sudden control of the situation. She almost forgot he was a prince. She quickly leaned against Selene, exhausted and drained. Playing the part of exhausted hunter, not that it was too hard. Being so closed to home made her just want to drop.
She made it.
"...We will return tomorrow afternoon then." Chairman Orion nodded to himself.
"Let us meet at the Guild Building, have one of your secretaries set up an appointment for everyone's records." Nahern said, giving no leeway for complaints.
"Keys, milady?" Selene whispered, feeling the weight pushed into her palm.
Nahern made quick work of sending the three away back down the stairs with such politeness they were flushed with embarrassment. She was thankful for the help then cried out. Selene had picked her up with ease, carrying her as if she weighed nothing more than a small child.
"Selene!"
"You are exhausted, milady. Let me take you inside." Selene unlocked the fence with ease. "Brother."
"We will see you tomorrow." Nahern gave a mock bow before closing the fence behind himself. His kind expression melted as he then brushed the hair from his face.
"Miserable bastards," he spat.