Seed of the Void Ch. 02

"Ssssstuck in a pit that long... I'm ssssssurprissssed he made it asssss far as he did." His Drakoth benefactor, whom he had come to know as Rozen, surprisingly came to his defense. However, Isaen's splitting headache and splinters from the rough treatment, hardly motivated him to be thankful.

Isaen did have some burning questions, but hardly the energy to ask them. He held his head up as much as he could, a sputtering leaving his lips, as he tried to articulate.

A deep sigh from the hooded woman answered his nonsense.

"I haven't the time for this, we need to get him well enough to pass on his instructions." She hopped down from the dresser, looking a bit shorter than she did from her perch. But just as mean.

Rozen was unbothered; instead, throwing wood into a hearth and scratching his claw against a block of Spark-Iron to start a fire.

"That'sssss your department."

His cold-blooded nature craved the warmth when he could get it. The dark tower floating in the inhospitable void was not the most ideal place to be a cold-blooded Drakoth.

Isaen could hear her eyes roll.

"Very well." She grabbed something metal from the table and walked behind him. A bright-pink light consumed the room for a moment, as energy painfully pulsated through Isaen.

"Gaahhhhh, Gods, what in the damned Void are you doing?" Isaen felt a surge of energy enough that he regained his rather unthankful and belligerent nature.

"I suppose a gutter rat like you hasn't had the pleasure of getting a jolt from a Stamina rod?"

"No... can't say I have. I'm just a poor boy over here."

"Well, you are living the high life now." She ungracefully dropped the metal rod back on the table with a clank, as she joined Rozen near the fire.

Her rather nice body was silhouetted by the light of the flame. Isaen was feeling a bit more admiration for the female form, since the idea of this mission was put in his head.

Riding the surge of energy, Isaen stood up from the stool he was once slumped over, stretching his arms back and forth as he felt the tenseness in his muscles. He looked at the door, his mind still weighing the options of whether to go along with this, or make a run for it as a free man.

"Don't get too excited, it's going to wear off before too long." The cloaked mistress turned with her arms crossed. Isaen could then see her face a bit more in the light of the growing fire. She was a bit comely looking, the first sign that maybe she really was Cicero's daughter. But her eyes were sharp and had an allure to them outside of the malice they carried.

"Well, better say what you need to say to me then, witch." Isaen tossed up his hands contradictorily and made a dismissive face to the woman, as he paced across the room.

He looked around at the simple decor of the inn's attic-room, a bit more luxurious than he was used to, but far from a king's castle. A bed, table, chairs, minimal niceties. This was probably their best room too.

A flicker of her malicious eyes shot to the Drakoth, calling for his dismissal. A sliver of his tongue and hiss as he rose to his feet with a slap of his scaly knees.

Rozen's slanted eyes looked at Isaen once more, squinting at him, as he passed through the room.

"Good luck," he said, with a flick of his forked tongue as he slipped through the door quietly. The creaks of his footfalls followed him down the steps and into the noise of the merriment below, until Isaen and the hooded woman were alone in silence.

Isaen continued his pacing, slyly smiling at his companion. He would make a joke about her intentions of getting him alone, but it didn't look like it would land well, nor had he seen enough of her to be interested yet.

"So, your father sent you, with a message to give me?"

"Sit."

"I heard that just earlier, tell me a new one."

"Sit." She had a deathly serious glare this time, as she whipped her head around before returning to stare into the fire.

Isaen tsked before doing as he was told, reminding himself he needed to go along with this, at least 'til he got out of this infernal tower, and, at most, 'til the benefits outweighed the risks. The perks Cicero had outlined to him previously sounded juicy enough.

"Fine. But can I at least get your name? Or did your father even give you one? Is he your father, or is that some sort of pet name he calls all those in his employ?"

"Calista..." She walked to the opposite side of the table.

Isaen furrowed his brows, what was with this family and tables?

"... and yes, Cicero is my father." She seemed less than enthused about it."

"Ah, well, my condolences then."

She glared at him before tossing him another purse of coin. "Let me get this straight with you... Dusksire, keep obeying orders, and the flow of coins will keep coming your way. Clear?"

Isaen nabbed the purse and weighed it casually; it felt like nearly a year's wage from his most lucrative of previous employments. As enticing as that was, there must be a catch.

"I can tell you have doubts."

"Is it that obvious." He shrugged sarcastically and frowned. "You pay me handsomely to walk to an inn, your father tells me this wild tale of what he wants me to do, and the grander purpose it serves, and the strange benefactor to all of this is a mystery. How am I not to doubt?" He placed the purse on the table, his hand still resting on it protectively.

"I think someone like you has little else of a purpose to serve other than himself." She leaned over the table, Isaen sampling the sight of her heavy sacks hanging beneath her chest, covered in a tight tunic. "This assignment, after all, should be a dream for dredge like you."

Isaen couldn't deny the idea of it had an appeal. "So long as you all don't hang me out to dry, men like me are wary of being disposable." He judged her in his mind, a bit of self-righteousness exuding from the way she talked to him.

"Lucky for you, you are far from disposable."

"So your daddy told."

Her nostrils flared as she nodded. "Take comfort then."

"So what is your role in all of this then? You seem a bit put out to deal with the dredge like me. Do you take the auspicious role of cleaning up the women I chose to run through? Like Sherry?"

Calista smirked, taking some of the bags from the ground to the table and untying them. "No, I get the auspicious role of keeping you in line. Something I'll take pleasure in doing when you step out of it." She slammed a few artifacts on the table as she snapped her words.

"Truthfully, what did I ever do to you?" Isaen sat back with a more serious expression. It was like he was talking to someone whom he had wronged in a past life.

Calista scoffed and ignored the question, spreading a few things across the table. Scrolls, metal objects, jewelry, parchments, and tools.

"Just remember what I said, do as you are told, and the coin... and benefits, will keep coming."

"Benefits?"

"If you would silence your tongue, I'd give you the details before the stamina boost wears off and you drool into the wood grain again.

Isaen quieted, perhaps she would say her piece and leave.

"Good, shall we begin then?"

Isaen waved his hand as if to tell her to proceed.

"You're on the next ship to Minhaven, you leave on the morrow eve."

Minhaven... Isaen pondered just how far and in the middle of nowhere such a place was.

"Your objective there is to carry out your mandate in various villages and cities, seeding a generation of mages that will sprout into a formidable power."

Isaen sensed a shred of pride in what she was saying, a true believer if he ever saw one.

"So that's it? Just empty my loins into maidens far and wide until I run dry?"

"As discreet as possible, mind you. Beyond fathers, husbands, local constables, and nobles who would obviously dislike your activities, there are those who don't wish to see us succeed in our goals."

"Of course; wam, bam, thank you, madam. I get the picture."

Calista grimaced. "You have plenty of room to do this without raising suspicion, once you have crossed a threshold, we will pull you out and send you on your next task."

"Seems simple enough for such an out-of-the-way place."

"That's the idea. Don't fuck it up."

"Oh far be it from me to ruin a good thing for myself." Isaen felt his eyes getting heavier as they sat there conversing. "What else then?"

"There is a procedure you must follow after you... spread your seed."

"No doubt."

"After you manage to... do it... you are to take this..." Calista held up a necklace with a white jewel upon it.

Isaen noted how uncomfortable Calista looked with the idea of 'it', as she explained the birds and the bees of mage-making.

"...and draw an X across the women's core like so." Calista imitated the movement across her own abdomen with a long stroke from above her navel across to her right hip and then the opposite.

The jewel on the necklace flashed red momentarily, causing Isaen to flinch.

"You see how it flashed red?"

"Yeah."

"That's because I am obviously not taken with any of your... seed." She said seed in a disgusted tone.

"So like your father drew an X with his hand on Sherry's stomach, and the light showed green?

"Indeed."

"So I can tell if they are taken with my 'seed'..." Isaen imitated the ickiness of saying seed that Calista had exhibited. "...what then?"

Calista looked unamused but continued. "At that time, you are to give her the necklace, place it on her, and ensure she is wearing it."

"What if she doesn't want 'it'?" The it in Isaen's sentence obviously with multiple meanings.

"She will. Through magic craft, the woman you mark with this necklace, and it shows green will have an affinity for the stone, and will preserve it, just as she will her child which will entice her to preserve it even more.

"Marking your army, eh?"

Calista nodded, tossing over to him a sack of dozens of necklaces with such jewels. Isaen only then realized how much work he had ahead of him.

"And then you'll come and whisk them away, like Sherry?"

"Not always, situation dependent."

"What situation?"

"Not your concern." She glared at him, as he crossed a line of questioning.

"Fine, I'll just fuck and not ask questions."

"It's best if you do."

Isaen was getting annoyed with the lack of details. 'The same master,' 'don't ask questions,' all of it was a bit too mysterious. Just as mysterious as Calista herself.

"So why are you in on this?"

Calista spread out a few more things on the table.

"You're using magical tools and not your spells, so you are not a mage yourself. What's in it for you, other than your papa?"

Calista put both hands on the table and leaned across it once more.

"I don't care to know much more about you, Dusksire, and I don't care to have you get to know me. You follow orders, you get coins and the freedom to fuck as you please. I give you the resources and those orders. Understood?"

"Fine." Isaen didn't like it, but for now, this whole arrangement would be shrouded in mystery.

"Do you have any actual questions about your assignment?"

"What happens if I get in trouble? Say the sort I can't get out of myself. You all gonna leave me to rot?"

A small sack was slid across the table to him. Inside, a pendant with an emblem of an upside-down star with a stag's horn emblazoned on it, hung from a silver chain.

"That pendant will let us know where you are. If you are in trouble. Simply press it into your flesh until it begins to warm unnaturally, and we will come to get you out of any such trouble."

"That's reassuring."

"I assure you we have a lot of assets capable of handling anything on Minhaven, or beyond."

"Can't help me if I am dead already."

"That is why this assignment pays for you to be discreet, Dusksire." She clicked her tongue, much like her father did in his lab.

Yawning, Isaen shook his head to stay awake.

"What if I need to get in contact with you?"

Another sack was slid across the table. A sack for all occasions Isaen noted.

"Many who live on Minhaven worship Geb, the god of crops and strangely, festive dancing. His altars are throughout the land, no matter the realm, as he is not considered antagonistic to any other gods. Write your communique on one of these parchments and place it at the altar attached to a bundle of barley and seal it with the wax in that sack. We'll pick it up from there."

"Ah, so you will know where I am then?" He smiled, he had wondered how closely he would be watched, and this was his confirmation.

"I wouldn't even try to lie about it, Dusksire, know that we will be watching you very closely..."

He smiled at her, unbothered. "All right, what else." The weariness was setting in slowly again.

Calista began to push more implements across the table at him. Several vials were the first she brought his attention to.

"Some tools to help you accomplish your mission. These vials have various elixirs inside of them." Calista began to hand them one by one. "This is essence of Greyrose, a small drop will make the subject fall into a helpless trance, enough so that you can do the deed and bestow upon them the jeweled necklace."

Isaen twerked his head with a bit of uncanny disbelief. "Subtle."

"Next, is draught of Elksweet. A small whiff of this will cause the subject to lose inhibitions, and be far more open to the suggestion of letting you sow your seed within them."

"Interesting... why give me this if you gave me the other?" Isaen weighed the two in his hand. One seemed sadistic, while the other more pleasantly sadistic. As he pondered it, he figured neither was better than the other in the end.

"It's not up to me to decide how to get it done, Dusksire, just to give you the tools to do it." Calista rolled her eyes as she passed him another vial. "This one is for you, Elixir of Vitality. Simply, makes your nasty cock ready to do more work. I suggest you use this enough to get the job done."

"Something to hurry the process along?"

Calista squinted her eyes. "Don't think this is a pleasure expedition, Dusksire, you'll be expected to make continuous progress, less I have to rein you in and whip you into shape."

"Some men like that sort of talk, you know."

Calista looked likely to zap him again. Isaen raised his hands in surrender facetiously.

"Fine, fine. What next?"

Another vial found its way to Isaen's hand, this one more carefully.

"This is Essense of Sablevine."

"Gods... that's enough to kill hundreds."

"Indeed, use it carefully, and only when you need to."

Isaen didn't realize there was an expectation of killing to go along with this. Somehow, it seemed obvious that the need would come up. It seemed his employers had little demand for his methods beyond the ever vague 'discreet'.

"I once had a spin as a hitman for a merchant in Gellard, I don't suppose that will be part of my job as well?"

Ignoring him, Calista began to pass more and more implements across the table to Isaen, now in the form of magical items and weapons.

"Mkay..." Isaen shook his head as Calista continued.

"A set of fine daggers meant for throwing. I trust you can at least hit the broadside of a wild Grazebeast if needed?"

Isaen shrugged and took the set of daggers. They were probably the finest-fashioned weapons he had ever held in his hands, but he shrouded his delight beneath his dour demeanor.

"A charged magic rod." A bronze metal rod about the length of her forearm was passed to Isaen. It had magical glyphs marked on its sides, each with a slight glow to then indicate the rod was fused with magical energy.

Isaen knew keenly what it was for: to transfuse magically powered tools, ships, or other implements with magical energy. He had used some before, during his time as ship's hand, but to have one personally was rare. With this, he could power his own ship and go anywhere he wished, so long as he did not run out of magical power.

"Trusting me with a lot here."

"I hope you are getting it through your thick skull that it benefits you to go along with this," she snapped back.

Isaen felt that it remained to be seen.

The next item to be placed in front of Isaen truly took him aback, his hands couldn't wait to get a feel for its hilt and run his fingers along the finely engraved barrel.

"A hand cannon?" It was not exactly a discreet weapon.

"Indeed." Calista tossed him a sack of glowing blue shells, thick as a strand of rope. The object in Isaen's hand, he was so eager to handle, was, indeed, a hand cannon. A magical projectile weapon that used enchanted magic to propel shells hundreds of yards towards a target where it would deliver a devastating blow. It was much more powerful than a crossbow, but extremely expensive. Only the wealthiest of armies employed them, and in small numbers at that. An individual carrying one was very rare.

The barrel itself reached from wrist to fingertip on Isaen and the wooden hilt curved in a shape easy to grip and aim. The blue-glowing shells were breech-loaded, and with a quick check, he saw there was one already ready to go.

"Now you have my interest." Isaen smiled widely.

His handler deeply sighed.

A few more items of lesser note were passed on, some with even longer explanations for their use. Healing potions to remedy pox from relations with a dirty woman. Herbs for keeping him big, strong, and to increase his manly urges. A sack of magical scrolls, 'single-use spells' as they were called of various types. Maps of Minhaven with points of interest and villages that Calista noted were more out of the way than most. And finally, a wooden chip with engraved details of his embarkation on the next cargo vessel headed across the void to that forsaken land.

"When you get to Minhaven, you are to travel to the town of Ebon Down. There, find a merchant of oddities, he will have more instructions for you."

Isaen struggled to take mental note of it all, especially since he was slowly fading.

"Now... what other stupid questions do you have?"

Isaen had returned to feeling wobbly by this point, the stamina rod's boost wearing off fast.

"Well... I don't suppose you'll consent to being my first subject?" He smiled, his scar, the most distinctive feature of his face, scrunching as he mocked her.

Calista snarled, leaning over the table once more, her hood pulling back to show her dark-blonde hair.

"Get this, Dusksire, you take my orders when I give them, and I keep you in line. You can make requests for more resources or clarification on instructions, but beyond that, we don't have to interact. Understood?"

"Fine, I guess I'll have to make do with the cute maiden downstairs."

"Far be it from me to tell you how to do your job, but that is hardly subtle, and you have few places to run in this tower if that goes south."

Isaen tossed his arms up in dismay. This girl always had something contrary to say.

"I hope to gods, we are not traveling companions," Isaen said, as his head began to droop down.

"You won't see me 'til it's necessary, Dusksire." Calista wickedly smiled. "And one other thing."

"Oh?"

"NO elves." With that peculiar addition, she tossed a white cloth with a strange odor into Isaen's face.

"What the--"

THUNK

Out cold, Isaen's head hit the table hard.