Fenrir found a new passion; her ears would rise at the mere sight of novelty. In a way, her distractions was a nice way to digest her spoken words. The truth hit, and in the first time in a while, the feeling of desolation and worthlessness seeped through, '-I'm backed against a wall,' he exhaled, throwing an emotionless stare at her antics. She'd run from store to store, crossing the road without so much care about the vehicles. Time elapsed, the walkways infused in tight alleys. Outlines kept to the shadows and smoked uniform or otherwise, demography of prominent men – many squatted, others bundled into a formidable click.
"Igna, where are we going?" her extravagant sprints halted.
"To the café," he replied, "-also," he leaned for a closer inspection, "-why are the purchases only attire and not something, I don't know, concrete?"
"You said my choice of outfit is bad," her cheeks bloated, "-I was only trying to spice up my wardrobe."
"I meant it in jest," they crossed into the 'alley' many eyes fell on her and her features, "-you're fine the way you are," he smiled, "-a good figure is enough to make any outfit work. Look around," he slyly lifted his brows, "-if tis acceptable, look at the lustful glances they've thrown."
"Oh," she paused, "-not mating season though…"
"Seriously," he grabbed part of her luggage, "-give it here," a portal opened, the short interlude gave onto a sloped street beside which carried an open drain system mostly used for excess rain. An impressive arrangement of buildings, located to the north-east side of town, "-there," he pointed, "-the middle one's where we ought to head." Aside from the café, the convenience of the marketplace and neighboring shops and stores made life so much easier. Stone stairs led into a cross-shaped interior whereby each end was a differing entrance. They arrived at the center, to which, on its side, rose a spiraling stair, arrows read, '-Aurone,' a superstore franchise. He kindly turned, looked at the café, nodded at the keeper, and settled.
"Stop gawking."
"Igna," her eyes shimmered, "-I want to go there," the tail waggled, "-I want to see what they have in store…"
"Have at it then."
"Awesome," she stormed through, passing heavy-handed guests on their way down, and leaped into the cover of the upper floors. Meanwhile, a barista casually brought a menu then stood, the café was empty save for him, the prices were higher compared to the other shops.
"I'll have one Redloj Express."
"Understood, I'll be right with you," he left, lifted the waist-high apron, and kept the notepad away.
Without say, the body gravitated to the leather case, pulled out a silvery-white flat laptop, a convenient outlet to the side had, '200 Exa per hour used,' written on bold. '-Guess power isn't something to easily yield,' he plugged regardless and connected to Éclair's database. Two messages went unnoticed, the lens had run out of power, '-I didn't notice,' a swipe down the forehead onto his nose dematerialized the crystalline protectors.
'Message from Vesper,' read the first, '-when the master makes it to Meke, please get in contact with this number,' to which adequate information was provided. Next, '-A business offer from Tristin Algeria,' the message wrote as followed, '-hello Igna, I'm sending this message in regards to the offer. I've thought long and hard, the pressure to uphold my title and prestige as an elite chef comes first, I don't want to be forgotten, Kyle's grown tremendously, I want to meet him as an equal and say my work wasn't lost in the annals of time. Therefore, I, Tristin Algeria, am ready to accept any conditions thee lays out. I will be waiting for a favorable answer.'
'The plans worked,' he pressed against the chair, '-she took the bait. A red-collar chef on payroll is always a good thing, I'll have her work the casino for a while, the restaurant's there of high standing in the general public view. The spreading malady has halted business, guests are scared to make the trip, our earnings are no way near what I imagined, especially since I have two of the greatest vices working in cahoots.'
Another notification rang, '-the engines were received and is currently being used by Clarice from the Alchemist sect to produce cures for the monster plague,' an idea sparked, '-Hareve's Pharmaceutical firm,' a quick search on the market showed steady growths ever since the heavy drop a few years ago, '-the spike in prices must have been Éclair buying shares. We the majority and the shareholders have appointed the leader of Raven as their CEO, that would be me, I think,' he paused, '-the name hasn't been revealed to the public; Starix and Éclair have run both companies discreetly. No complaints, a stable income, and humane treatment of the workers sufficed for them not to ask questions. Hareve's been on the sidelines, working as an outsourcing company for greater firms, the name's not known among the public. The drop in price's affected the reputation. The curse's not a problem yet, Alphia's dealing with the matter accordingly. Supply for the cure won't be in demand – not unless a tragedy were to befall the neighboring countries,' fingers glid over the keyboard, '-infection of the world,' he smirked, '-a biological attack whereby we win, none will suspect us to be the cause. Time's nigh,' the dangerously worded note ended, '-we need money, if we can't control the arms trade, we'll find another; medicine.'
The message reached Éclair as if a thunderbolt, heavy rain didn't add to the tone, '-the plans ready to move forth. Lady Vanesa's,' he vanished for the Shadow Realm – the ever-sleeping girl awoke to disturbances in the grass. The brightly colored sky broke, his outline shuffled over her hanging bed, "-Lady Vanesa," he smiled.
"Éclair…"
"Here are your orders," he gave a letter, "-the master's counting on thee."
"What is this?" she wiped her face, stretched and yawned, the oversized shirt hid her arms, '-Aedric Mistress of Plague and Illness, I, Igna Haggard, ask for thy assistance in a task involving the fate of the whole world. I want for thee to infect key locations, spreading the monster curse to unsuspecting guests, have it match the illness we investigated back in Alphia,' sleep dove out the window, "-he's asked help from the Aedric Mistress," she rose to the edge of the bed, the body grew in size, the oversized clothes filled in the sudden growth sprout, "-about time I had my fun," the listless personality vanished, "-lead the way Éclair, I expect rewards to match my actions."
"Anything thee wishes," he nodded. None could have known of the calamity those few words would bring, Igna and Éclair understood the risk and not the scale. The Aedric Mistress of Plague and illness wasn't an entity to be taken lightly, said fact would be apparent in due time.
'Should take care of that,' the laptop screen closed – time fast-forward without his knowledge, an influx in guests displayed in the crowd. He watched and waited, the location of their meeting was set here, to which, there remained naught to be done. Blond hair, peculiar among the demi-humans, hurried from the western entrance, locked onto Igna's table, sorted his vest, and walked, "-Pardon me, are you, Joe?"
"Joe?" Igna rose his head to a familiar face, "-Leonard?"
"IGNA?" he coughed, "-sorry, I must have mistaken you for my employer."
"Joe?" the phone toggled, "-are you him?" he turned the screen.
"You're my contact?" gulped Leonard, "-talk about a pleasant surprise," he pulled a chair and sat, "-never expected this particular outcome."
"Neither did I," he narrowed, '-does he work for the monsters?'
'Is Igna the owner of the guild?' wondered Leonard.
*Incoming call, Vesper,* "-I ought to take this call," he rose, "-order something to drink, I'll be here shortly."
"Will do," the man's nervousness eased. Igna hastily ran outside, "Vesper, care to explain?"
"Explain what, my contact must have arrived, I received confirmation on his tracker."
"Don't play coy, the contact is Leonard Goldberg, a noble of the Goldberg dukedom."
"You mean ex-noble. Seems as if there's a deeper relation, here's the short of the story. We from the Monster Kingdom have a guild of our own in Meke, tis named Xuen – we need to sell the items which are recovered when we kill adventurers. Tis where our company comes into play, we're tasked to recover bodies and items, it's a foolproof plan, when a request arises, we but ask our inventory for the items and check reports if the corpse was eaten. Then again, we also employ adventurers to mask our scent – Leonard there is a perfect puppet to hide our activities. He thinks you're the leader of Xuen, gaining access beyond the Azure wall is hard. Once over the border, the real escort will teleport thee to the tower."
"Should have given me a heads-up," he exhaled, "-status on the adventurers?"
"Stuck on floor 198, we sent reinforcement to halt their advance since floor 199 is a neutral zone, Scifer was very adamant on giving the players a fighting chance." The call ended, smartphone in the pocket, he ambled to the café and sat, Leonard visibly tried to cover the gleaming forehead, the breathing felt erratic, '-the best approach is friendly.'
"Welcome back," he said, the pitch shot.
"Don't be nervous," returned Igna, "-forget the owner-worker relation, we're friends from long ago,' he smiled, the aura grew accommodating, "-how have you been, Leonard?"
"Great," the relief washed his cold stare, "-I was stumped, you don't realize how hard it was, memories of the time we spent sort of rushed, I thought I had closed that particular chapter."
"You seem to not be doing so good, what's happened?"
"I wouldn't stress it," he sighed, "-a lot's happened and I've accepted the fact."
"No," he interjected, "-an unblessed marriage," read off the screen, "-looks like lady Goldberg hasn't learned her lesson, has she?"
"It's not her fault," he explained, "-they learned of Jen's true heritage, she's a priestess from the Wracia Empire – Hidros's enemy. The populous, nobles especially, hate them, the devastation the church brought upon Queen Shanna's domain, Arda, is one we can't ever forget. Here I am, married to a direct representative of the church…"
"Arda's viewed favorably?"
"Very much so," he fired, "-we're grateful for the help the Ardanians have given in the battle against monsters, their knowledge has heightened our fighter's survival rates."
'Seems like the idea to outsource our talented adventurers has made Arda a welcoming province, I wonder how much influence Alta's had.'
"The Devil of Glenda."
"You said something?"
"No, I was thinking aloud," he paused, "-Igna, ever since you left the academy… I know the past is awkward to bring up, especially Jen and Rena, they've been worried to the point of obsessing over every little thing you did. Lampard and I too, we're worried, the Devil of Glenda, the day said the news hit the shelves in Meke, the populous simultaneously breathed a sigh of relief, finally, someone powerful enough to oppose the Church rose amidst the carnage. To see your name attached made me proud as a friend."
"You exaggerate, I only did what I had to safeguard Arda's future. Tell me about the others, everyone's graduated, right?"
"I can't tell you," he sipped, the voice sunk, "-I lost touch with Lampard, Jen and Rena had a falling out, I can't speak on behalf of Frost and the others. Our last year at the academy was fun until the last few months, the exchanges were awkward, I didn't know how to act around them, and we eventually broke apart."
"Happens to the best of us," he replied coldly.
"IGNA!" cried Fenrir, "-I NEED MONEY."
"Idiot," he facepalmed, Leonard glanced up then turned to Igna, with a look to say, '-you know her?' everyone stared. "Pardon me," he excused from the table and stormed the staircase, '-AIRHEAD.'