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Chapter 1
“Once upon a time, when divinity still graced the land, the gods ruled over humanity. Fate, overseer of all, pulling on destiny’s strings; War, the mighty warrior, bringer of flames and bloodshed; and Death, the reaper, the cause of sorrow and tragedy. But these gods were not as benevolent as they seemed, for they sought to bend humanity to their will. These cruel gods ruled over humanity with an iron fist, clasping humanity’s children in chains. Until a hero rose amidst the cries of the oppressed, challenging the gods for their freedom. Fueled by the hope that their hero brought, the people rose up, defying the gods. After waging a war that lasted years, humanity broke free from the chains of the divine and overthrew the gods. Though broken and defeated, the gods were still divine beings and could not die. So humanity wrought great iron towers and imprisoned the gods within, chaining them just as they once chained humanity. And so, the ancient people vowed to never again let divinity command them, but forge their own path alone.” “Um… Mr. Kieran?“ A small voice piped up, belonging to a young girl. "That sounds cool and all… but what does it actually mean? I didn’t really understand everything you said…” “Ha!” Hearing the girl’s words, a small, grimy boy jumped up. “I understood everything he said!” The girl scowled at him. “Shut up, Derek, this isn’t about you!” Kieran, the storyteller, chuckled. “Come now, kids, let’s not fight…” Kismet glanced down at the crowd clustered near the fireplace, the audience of dirty, grimy people gathered around the storyteller, their eyes full of eagerness. Unfortunately, despite his spot on a high window ledge, their chattering commotion didn’t fail to reach his ears, ruining his plans of a quiet night. Not that he could blame Kieran, his stories were pretty intriguing to listen to, given that you understood the big words he used. Kismet frowned as his vision blurred. That's odd. He could feel a headache rising to his temples, bringing the urge to vomit with it. Why am I feeling sick all of a sudden? He leaned back against the window for support. Taking deep breaths to drive away the vomit rising at the back of his throat. His food roiled and churned around in his stomach. Kismet imagined that was what having an ocean for a stomach probably felt like. The headache certainly wasn't helping, and his vision was focusing in and out at random. He was lying in a field of tall grass, their tops swaying above him, like they were adorning the sky with a frame of green. The clouds floated past at a lazy pace, and yet they seemed to pass too quickly. The smell of the earth and grass overpowered everything else, so strong that it was almost nauseating. The chirps and calls of the insects and bugs scurrying beneath and around the grass almost seemed like shrieks to his ears, it seemed possible that they could render his eardrums to nothing. And yet he felt strangely tranquil, none of these things bothered him. They couldn't have deserved his attention any less no matter how loud they cried. They were simply… beneath him. A voice cut through the tranquility of the moment, calling his name. Kismet blinked as his surroundings came rushing back into focus. He almost threw up right then and there. Taking a deep breath, he willed it back down, at least until he could get to the bathroom. Glancing around, he couldn't see anybody calling for him. The crowd by the fireplace had dispersed, replaced with a few stragglers trying to keep themselves warm. What… He touched his head. What was all that? Miraculously, his headache had vanished and his vision seemed fine now. Though his stomach still flipped and did handstands. Kismet had to glance around the hall again and run his hands along the window glass to remind himself that he was back in reality. He leaned his forehead against the glass, the coolness of it temporarily soothing him. It felt like a vision. But it couldn't have been, I can't see visions. Besides… it felt more like a memory, some part of me wants to go back to that feeling of tranquility. But it was so vivid and sudden. It behaves like a vision and feels like a memory. He ran his index finger along the edge of the glass, gathering dust on it. And the voice… Who's voice was that? I recognize it but I don't. It called my name… Involuntarily, Kismet muttered out loud. “My name… What was the name it called me?” He sighed then straightened up, wiping the dirt off onto his clothes. No use sitting around. I'll ask Vukas what he thinks. Steeling both himself and his stomach, Kismet made his way down the window ledge.
After stopping by the nearest bathroom and taking care of his stomach, Kismet made his way to Vukas's office. The leader of the rebels was open and friendly and as such, liked to keep his door open most days to help the others feel more comfortable approaching him. As it turned out, today wasn't most days, as his door was closed and locked by the looks of it. Kismet tilted his head, analyzing the door. He might be in the middle of something important. Just as he was debating on taking his chances or not, the door flew open, Vukas's assistant, Rowan, almost crashing into Kismet. “Gah! Oh.” He blinked. “Kismet! Just who I was looking for. Vukas was sending me out to find you… but it appears you're already here.” Ah. No wonder Kismet felt like something had been urging him on other than his own worries. Vukas's head emerged from behind the desk. “Kismet! Come on in!” Rowan had hurried off, leaving Kismet to close and lock the door behind them. “What's all this?” Kismet glanced down at the pile of papers that covered Vukas's desk. There was a huge map pinned to the wall, labelled and drawn on in many places. “Did something go wrong with the plan?” Vukas scratched his beard and let out a heavy sigh. “Somewhat. Iris hasn't reported back in a month and I have sufficient intel to believe that she's been caught.” Kismet blinked. “Oh.” Their spies being caught wasn't something he was surprised with. It would happen, one way or another, and the rebels expected this. He couldn't even feel that much sympathy given he only knew her through Vukas and the fact she could be alive. “Don't you have a backup plan for this?” Vukas sat down with a heavy thump. “I would, but Desdemona's being monitored by some higher ups for promotion.” “Oh.” “Stop that.” Vukas scratched his beard again. “In any case, this is pretty bad. Iris had a pretty good lead on a secret from the royal family, and now she's disappeared.” “Oh- I mean, what kind of secret?” Kismet didn't expect that. I suppose I haven't checked up on any of our spies’ intel for a while. “That's the problem.” Vukas folded his arms, the way he moved almost distracting Kismet before a spider on the wall caught his eye. “Iris was too afraid to tell me on paper, apparently it was something big, something that could tear the Royal family apart. Later on in her letters - Kismet stop being distracted - she seemed somewhat paranoid. She thought everyone was watching her and suspicious of her. It's possible that her paranoia led to her capture. Whatever it is, it's too big for us to let go now.” Kismet tore his gaze away from the spider on the wall. “Are you planning to send someone to pick up her lead?” Vukas nodded. “You.” “Alrigh- what?” Kismet frowned. Vukas had said it with so much certainty he felt a sense of dread. Let's hope that's just me and not my intuition speaking. “Why me? Not to put myself down, but there's better people out there.” “I’m getting short staffed on trustworthy people.” Vukas explained, not that Kismet thought his logic was entirely sound. “I have reason to believe that there is a mole among us.” How convenient. Kismet thought, then said. “I could be the mole.” Vukas rolled his eyes. “Joke all you want but I trust in you.” … I wasn't joking. Kismet felt strangely uncomfortable in the sincerity of Vukas's words. Obviously he had a sense of loyalty to the rebels, but don't you think your faith in me is a little too deep? Vukas had come to stand in front of Kismet and placed a hand on his shoulder, looking deep into his eyes. Blue meeting green. “I know you're probably thinking you're undeserving of all this trust, but right now, you're the only person I can trust with all my heart.” Was it just Kismet or was his sense of dread growing stronger? “Of course, I'm not forcing you to go. If-” “I'll go.” Kismet blurted out. He didn't know what was wrong with him, he didn't know why he said that. But the growing feeling of dread was getting stronger and he had to get Vukas to stop talking. You can't say you trust me than act like I have a choice. Vukas was slightly taken aback. “Are you sure? I can always give you more time to think it over.” Kismet knew that Vukas didn't have enough time to let him think it over. Why are you lying to make me feel better? His stomach felt horrible again. “No. I'll do it.” Vukas eyed him for a good long minute. Kismet was about to start clenching his toes when Vukas finally spoke up. “Alright.” He returned to his desk. “Iris moved to Lesna recently to follow her new leads. Your job is to go there and pick up on her leads and if possible, find her.” It didn't escape Kismet how he didn't mention anything about saving her. If she's found out as a rebel, she would be placed under custody of the Marshals anyway, there's no saving her. “I'll contact Laire and see about making you an ID. Since you're an Empyr, I'll see to making a pacifier for you. Desdemona will see that you'll get settled in. Sounds good?” “...yeah.” Kismet's stomach lurched at the mention of seeing Desdemona, and it wasn't a bad one. In fact, it seemed a little too excited and gave him an uncomfortable feeling again. “Good, it should be done within a week. I'll tell you when it's ready.” “Thanks. I'll… leave now.” Vukas was already writing a letter to Laire. “Of course. Be safe.”