“What do you think of these?” Siena asked and placed a candle under Undine’s nose.
Though her ti as a blind sli was, by now, less of her conscious life than her ti as a seeing one, the abysstide elental still retained so oddities from back then. One of those oddities was that she focused a lot more on her other senses than her fellow humanoids did.
The fragrance filled her surface receptors with the scent of beeswax and black tea. Undine considered the scent for a bit. “It is pleasant,” she responded. “I like them.”
“Good enough,” Siena decided and waved a clawed finger at the storeowner. “Co here.”
“S-sure,” the woman stamred and stepped close. She did not strike Undine as a fundantally nervous person. It was her current set of clients, filling her relatively small candle store, that had her shaken.
Undine would not lie, she took a bit of sadistic delight in seeing what their presence did to people. It felt good to be important, to have power. It was not a feeling she was proud of. It was not one she was going to suppress either. In the andering uncertainty of existence, it was often difficult to find rays of light. Though she was blessed with relationships that others could only dream of.
Siena’s eyes, moonlight orbs piercing the abyss of her black scleras, locked on the storeowner. The direct attention made her freeze up, like a mouse standing before a cat. Undine’s sister in contract smirked silently, drawing the tense mont out.
“You two are the worst, you two are so quiet, you two are so sadistic,” Claire stepped into the conversation. “Give the poor woman a break, she is just trying to help.”
“I concur,” Nightingale chid in from another corner of the shop. She and John were checking out a number of candelabras and lanterns.
“You make these inhouse, yes?” Claire asked.
“Yes!” the storeowner yelped.
“Could we put in a continual commission over a high quantity of these?”
“O-of course!” The storeowner sounded excited. As she ought to be. There was no wealthier patron in the world than the Imperial Choir. The head of their household was the minter of the new Abyssal world currency.
“Can you make candles with an ocean scent?” Undine asked.
“Of course, of course!” she was quick to assure. “It’s not a popular scent around here, so I have nothing in stock, but I can mix up the scent for a trial batch with the first delivery.”
“Good.” That was all Undine had to say. As per usual, she beca aware of the multitude of wrong implications such a short response could spark in the imagination of those she talked to. As per usual, she found herself uncertain how to iron that out. As per usual, the conversation moved on before she could find a solution.
“Anything else I could help you with?” the storeowner asked.
“Not at this ti,” Undine responded. “John, could you share our financial details with this woman?”
“Consider it done,” her beloved contractor said, stepping away from Nightingale to give the candlemaker the string of numbers and letters that allowed the data transfer of money.
“That ans we have the interior decorating and scent covered,” Siena whispered to Undine. “What next?”
The sli lady knew the answer, but had to take the ti to double check it. Patiently waiting, Siena intertwined her fingers with those of Undine. The two smiled at each other. There was always sothing sharp about the way the shadow spirit showed her mirth, an angle to even the slightest of smiles that made her appear dangerous. Undine had been told she could look similar.
“There’s a local smith I want to visit,” she ultimately responded.
“Let’s see what he is offering, then.” Siena’s purr was sexually charged, turning the words suggestive.
Undine let out a lodic sigh. It was inappropriate to speak of other n that way, but Siena was incorrigible. Besides, it was in the acceptable range of transgressions.
Ringing, the bell above the door proclaid their exit. Claire, Nightingale and then John followed them outside in close proximity.
It was a cold night out in Washington DC, just a few degrees above freezing. Nightingale’s presence shifted what would have been an ordinary darkness into a resplendent display. The sky was painted a gorgeously rich shade of deep blue, the stars glittering in it like jewels on a velvet dress. The Milky Way was present in all its splendour, as if the light pollution below was not happening at all.
People all around were looking at the sky in awe. Even if they were aware of the source of the change, this was still a rare treat for the inhabitants of the tropolis.
DC's comrcial district was one of the older barriers on the continent. It had been absorbed into the Category 3 barrier created by one of Magoi’s IBMAs and suffered heavily during the Lorylim invasion. That suffering was still apparent all over the high street. Large buildings were reduced to rubble, piled next to intact shops. The street was broken in many places. Undine could still imagine the fungal stalks that had risen from the sewage system.
In many more places, the damage had been fixed. Repairs were ongoing even at this hour. Only the intricacies of the magical infrastructure slowed down the elental mages. That and the wish of the surviving locals to show the scars of the attack. A city did well to rember.
Activity in the district was quite high, despite the terrible losses suffered in the opening stages of the war. One in two people had died in this city and the surrounding areas, swallowed up by the surprise attack of the Lorylim. The entirety of it would have fallen had they not gotten there so fast.
And yet, the people endured and the Awakened explored this new magical world. DC was one of the chosen concentration points for them. Since it held important cultural value to the mundanes, they flocked there easily and from there they could be integrated into a community equal parts established and growing.
Undine guided the group of 5. They naturally drew the eyes of many. Several of the Awakened attempted to get close, too close, but were swiftly reminded to keep their distance by the vampiric wolves trotting alongside them. Eventually, all would be educated in the fact that their leaders were not to be approached during their private ti.
The smith’s workshop Undine wanted to go to was in the outskirts of the comrcial district. It was necessarily isolated both due to the volu and heavy air created by the work. The heavy, percussive impacts of a chanized hamr filled the air. Undine had no problem making her voice be heard over it. With the sweetness of a siren’s call, she spoke, “I wish to speak to Laurence.”
The chanical hamring ca to a slow stop. Sothing tallic was put down with a loud clatter. A man grumbled as he moved inside the workshop. It was an ‘addition’ attached to a house, almost as large as the two-story building itself.
The reinforced door swung open. A burly man stepped out. His gut stretched the front of the leather apron he wore over his grey shirt. His remaining build matched that dominant feature. He was neither tall nor short, but he was broad. Wide shoulders and thick legs made him look like soone had overlapped a rectangle on a circle. His head did not help the feeling, being square-jawed at the bottom and round like the underside of an egg at the top. Attempts to keep a bit of red hair were combed over a clearly bald head.
“Who’s aski-“ The question got stuck in his throat. What usual bravado he must have had was imdiately replaced with supplication. All annoyance drained from his grey eyes. He put his hands together and bent forwards, communicating his intent to be of help long before the words left his mouth. “I did not expect such noble company.”
Undine left him dangling for a mont. The sweetness of his slowly growing uncertainty was dangerous. She stopped her indulgence monts before her amber eyes switched to a nacing red. “I wish to recruit your services.”
“Like… commission sothing?” Laurence asked.
“No.” Another pause, though this ti Undine was simply sorting her words. “There are plans in motion that would benefit from a smith with your specific Innate Ability. You will be given gainful employnt for the rest of your life. You will also be sworn to secrecy.”
The smith’s eyes dashed between the five of them. They mainly lingered on Undine and Siena, no doubt due to their choice of display. Siena was clad only in the latex-like swirls that ca with her nature and Undine did as a sli lady was privileged to, having simply hidden her indecent bits.
He had the wisdom not to stare.
“May I ask about… additional details?” Laurence asked. “Can I refuse?”
“You can certainly refuse,” Undine assured, speaking with all the sincerity her crystal-clear voice could muster. “I am recruiting you. Additional details I will not share, unless you agree.”
“What, exactly, happens if I agree?” Laurence asked.
Siena took over at that juncture. “You will be moved to a location of her choosing. You may keep contact with your old acquaintances, if you so choose, but your communications will be monitored from that point onwards.”
“And… how rich will this make ?” Laurence asked.
“Absurdly,” Claire trilled.
“I accept,” Laurence said imdiately. “Just give a couple of days to get my affairs in order.”
“Good,” Undine responded, with a smile, then simply stepped away.
Laurence was one of the new inhabitants of the district. The workshop he had taken over had been left empty after the previous owner had been killed. Now it would be left empty again. A bit of a sha for the local economy, but his Innate Ability was exactly what Undine needed.
It was one that had cropped up among craftsn several tis throughout history, dubbed simply ‘Bindings’. The high-end enchantnt on many of their weapons that bound them to a specific person ca naturally to such people and they had an easier ti putting it on materials that were otherwise weak in magical capacity. Perfect to create otherwise unassuming badges for Darktide.
Undine wanted everything to be perfect. A lair in a remote and yet prestigious location. It would be difficult to reach, sought out even by its mbers only when it was urgent or they were called. Simultaneously, it would be luxurious and awe-inspiring. She dreamt of an underwater palace, filled with the scent of incense, harbouring treasures that her operatives could utilize in the agendas she set.
Thinking about it all made it feel distant and unreal. It only was until she made it happen. She had the will, the resources, the ti and the support. Darktide wasn’t a larping project, it was a necessity she would make real. Badges and secret bases only sounded silly until they were in use, able to extend her reach to the ends of the Earth.
Laurence was given a phone number and nothing else. Undine would move the necessary pieces tomorrow. Claire would draft one of her new Blood Contracts for them. All was moving at a desired pace.
They stepped away from the workshop and the comrcial district entirely. The teleporter was located on the White House grounds. That building, too, was still in ruins. John hadn’t yet resolved what to do with it. It had to be rebuilt at so point, as a monunt to Fusion’s victory if nothing else. Would it be more than that? Was it going to beco their East Coast palace, the local governnt’s building, or a very fancy public square?
Undine would advise the middle option, but it was not her choice to make.
The sli lady stopped abruptly. A ntal signal to Siena had the shadow spirit release her fellow elental’s hand. Suddenly and swiftly, the songstress turned around and walked up to her summoner. John was surprised, but received her with open arms. She stretched her liquid body to reach his lips.
The kiss was short and sweet, a renewal of the many pledges between them. She let her intentions flow through their ntal link as well. Her thoughts stopped at the entrance to his mind. ‘Use your words,’ he nudged her ntally.
The insistence dampened her mood slightly, though she knew he ant well by it. Communicating properly was a weakness of hers, one she could confess too… though she also had to say that many people had a problem listening or observing matters.
“I want to thank you, my beloved Master,” she whispered. Her voice made him shudder, a reaction she aid for with every carefully enunciated syllable. “For having earned that title not through our contract alone, but by giving the freedom to give it to you. Though my nature places on a leash, you have done everything you could to give liberties next to no other elentals could ever dream of.” She pressed herself against the Ambassador Double. “For that, you have my gratitude.”
“Well… I just want to see you happy, so that’s reward enough for ,” he responded.
Of course, he would say that… and an it too. For all the wishes for physical favours beneath those words, he wasn’t lying. Her happiness was enough to sustain him. What a wonderful being her Master, contractor and future husband was.
She put another quick kiss on his lips, then took the lead of their little group again. Siena and Claire flanked her, two friends of additional closeness in a social network that made even her most lancholic days bearable. Sohow, she had been blessed with all of this. Despite her many flaws, she had been given freedom and love.
It was a favour she wished to pay forward to the world.
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