Ophus 21st, 2719
VIENDA | LATE EVENING
VIENDA | LATE EVENING
Alyssa remembered being those folk. She remembered the house on the lane, with the flowering magnolia and the big round windows. She remembered being nothing, and the tally marks on the floor under her bed as she counted down the days till the Madame tapped her on the shoulder. She remembered making the pact with herself that it would be her, not Frances, no matter what her sister had said.
She’d been so naive.
Looking away from the city scape below her, Alyssa looked around the rooftop, hands in the pockets of Jon’s old AAF jacket. Her dark curls were drawn back away from her face in a plain, functional bun, and her expression was set in a stern half frown. Cooks Place was good for a meeting ground, an unspoken agreed platform for so many years now, the assassin wasn't even sure when it had started. It’s height, and location, meant that you could see someone coming from any angle. You could also position people on the rooftops and windows around the building to take out an overly eager golly with a well placed arrow. That however, was with the small fry. The folks that you knew were just nobodies.
The Wisp wasn’t meeting with nobodies.
That's why she'd brought the ace up her sleeve.
“You’re late.” She said darkly as a familiar figure appeared from the doorway to the roof, their figure swathed in expensive felt and silk fabric. No robes tonight, it seemed, instead a well tailored suit and shirt under a long charcoal coat. He was alone, or at least he appeared to be, and his field was almost cloyingly thick with his power. The assassin didn’t flinch as he moved to stand near the edge of the building, looking over the city as much as she had just done so. He inhaled deeply, and let out a pleased sigh.
“Isn’t it beautiful? Our great city, Alioe’s blessed home for the righteous and worthy.” The man said in a low voice, slightly raspy with age and full of self-import. Alyssa didn’t move, her eyes on the galdor like two sapphires in the dark. It had been a lot of work to get this meeting in place, working carefully with their inside contacts to feed information to the judge, to entice him to appear. To come alone. She was certain he was not alone, and nearly surprised he had come at all. It just told her even more-so that Azmus was indeed, the father of her niece.
“I’m not here to discuss Vienda with you, Azmus.” She said curtly, watching the older man turn around slowly with a sneering smile under a thin moustache. His green-grey eyes looked at her, grey eyebrows powerful in their own glorious right, silver hair carefully brushed into place and brushing the back of his neck. Smoothing hands over his cravat, the High Judge chuckled.
“No, I don’t imagine you are, Pierre.” The man said in amusement, clasping his hands together behind his back and nodding towards her.
“So, tell me criminal, why shouldn’t I kill you here and now? You’ve sought me, I know. I've heard. And in doing so, you have revealed yourself to me. Resistance. Freedom Fighter. Criminal.” He spat the last words in contempt, before gathering his thoughts.
“I’m sure however, you did not come alone, and no doubt the moment I appear out of sorts you'll have one of your dogs shoot me dow—”
“Where is Jon Serro?” The brunette said bluntly, refusing to let the Judge take control of the conversation. Azmus arched a brow, his smile wicked and predatory.
“Mister Serro is dead, girl. You know that. The papers said so.” It was Alyssa’s turn to chuckle, taking her hands from her pockets and crossing her arms over her chest.
“Ah of course. If the papers declare it, then it must be true. Like Dorhaven. Like Rookwen.” Azmus shrugged, his field unwavering and unrestrained. The human nodded, as though an unspoken conversation had played out between them. She narrowed her eyes.
“I have something of yours, Azmus. And I'm not entirely sure you’d like those same papers to know that.” There was a moment of pause, the galdor’s field pressing heavily around them. She could feel it, even if she didn’t understand it, that cloying feeling of pressure without pressure. Another tool in the arsenal to make the soft yielding bodies of the mages seem so much more threatening than they were. Alyssa kept her expression unchanged, playing the game just as well as any galdori judge.
The man breathed deeply, and sighed.
“I see.” He said quietly. The two stood there, in the dark of the rooftop, silence between them growing thick and heavy with suspense. Finally, the High Judge spoke.
“So this was your hand then? To trade your fearless leader for, what? Your silence?” Azmus laughed, a rumbling thing with hatred and amusement, uncaring of the blazing blue of the assassins eyes.
“You pathetic creatures. I will not be blackmailed by your threats. How can you even proove to me this truth? Tell your lies, human, and I will have them spun into golden threads of justice.” The woman clenched her teeth, chin jutted slightly, as she shook her head.
“I don’t have to lie. The proof lives and breathes, walks and talks. Your daughter, High Judge Azmus. I don’t have to lie, she can reveal the truth herself.” It was Azmus’ turn to frown, his field feeling like a press in its weight, and Alyssa flicked her hands down to release the thin knives hidden in her sleeves so they fell into her palms.
“Give us Jon, and she’ll disappear into the wilds of Vita. You’ll never hear about her again.” Azmus shook his head.
“I wouldn’t trust dogs like you. A life for a life. The girl for Jon.” It was Alyssa’s turn to laugh.
“So you can murder her to keep your secrets? No, not happening. Silence, or revelation.” The galdor’s field shifted, an uneasy tilt in the depth of her stomach, but Alyssa shifted faster. Her knife left her hand, whistling past his ear, disrupting whatever spell the High Judge had planned on casting. Azmus shouted a short sharp sound of shock, ducking away from the noise and reaching for his ear to check if it was still intact.
“The next one will be your throat, golly bastard. If you can’t give us Jon, I’ll get to him another way. I’ve got people waiting Azmus, I just need to give the signal, and all of Vienda will know your filthy secret. A wick babe, secreted away under the ruse of death. Hidden right under the peoples noses. How can they trust a High Judge who’s seed has borne a half-breed? The shining pillar of justice and galdori truth and rightousness? I will reveal your truths and ruin you.” She snarled, face a mask of rage and hatred. Azmus glared back, his field shaken but gathered. After what felt like eternity, the High Judge straightened.
“No. I refuse to negotiate with terrorists.” The greyed man said, shaking out his jacket and smoothing his hair, moving towards the doorway to the roof.
“You have no idea what powers you toy with, you pathetic creature. Spin your lies. I will topple them all. Shine a light on the girl, I will burn her to ashes. You don’t scare me. Jon will rot in the bowels of my prison, and the resistance will fall.” Alyssa’s heart pounded in her chest, her anger searing through her veins, shocked by his reply. There would be no trade, no offer of middle ground. Her head was spinning. Azmus was leaving and they were revealed and Jon would continue to be held in—
In the bowels of my prison.
“Wait.” She barked, holding her hands up to show him she didn’t intend harm. The Judge stopped, looking at her with a slow smirk. Alyssa shook her head, glancing away and swearing.
“A life. For a life. Jon for your daughter.” Azmus laughed again, cruel and taunting.
“Oh how the mighty Resistance topples for such an insignificant person. You risk it all, for one man. One broken man.” He stuck his hand out to shake, bushy brows drawn in contraction to the grin on his face.
“I won’t make any promises on his condition, though he will be alive.” The human lowered her hand slowly, taking his. It was warm, sweating and firm against her cooler smaller one. A tentative, uneasy grasp.
“Where and when.” She asked him, other hand still gripping her knife. Azmus narrowed his eyes.
“These things take time. I need to discuss with my benificiaries, and arrange to move him. Meet me again here, on the first of Intas. People will be distracted by Clocks Eve. We will trade, under the light of Our Lady’s Moon.” Alyssa frowned, but nodded.
“Clocks Eve then.” She said quietly, shaking his hand once and letting go. They both stepped back slowly, Azmus grinning in contractition to her frown.
“You’ve made the smart choice, Pierre.” He said quietly, before grasping the handle of the door and opening it. The sounds of Cooks wafted from below, and he paused to look at her.
“Parlay, till then.” The High Judge said with a nod, before disappearing and closing the door. Alyssa tucked her knife away, shaking her head and moving to stand near the edge of the building again, staring across the night of the city.
“Till then, ersehole.” She muttered quietly.
