Xilanada - Descending Dark Of Past And Future/Part 9

Some men plotting the certain death of possible innocents would shy away from that kind of thinking until the deed was done. Other kinds might embrace the title of villainy and laugh that it was all so easy. Tepet Ajalat Malias was neither kind, for he’d killed his conscience long ago and there was nothing easy at all about what he had set up.

The streets of Nexus were quiet for this time of morning, he thought. Ever since the riots, since that Anathema had been seen, Nexus itself seemed slower. Fearful, perhaps. The leaning Tower of the Council of Entities stood as a visual reminder of what had happened and even the Guild seemed reluctant to brush off the anti-slave movement that had started the events leading to its "adjustment".

Malias chuckled despite himself at the joke it reminded him of. In the weeks after, the leaning Tower had garnered the name of the Flaccid Member of the Emissary, so named because the tower now resembled the male member unable to stand fully erect...and because it implied the Council’s power was slipping. Of course, a dozen or so public boasters of the joke had died in horrible ways but not before everyone had heard it.

Everyone knew it, no one said it, and it was still funny.

But what caused it wasn’t. The Book of Death had been sighted. Final Starry Night, the Conqueror of three smaller nations, the Forger of Xi'ar'na from those countries' ashes and the Destroyer of Grayfalls, had no qualms about showing his sign. Strangely, he’d heard that the sign had been seen over a woman, though reports were mixed at best, the memories liberally seasoned with fear.

It was more likely that the woman had been another Anathema with the Unclean, the only true and proper name for a monster of Night’s reputation. Perhaps she was his Lunar Mate, the one the stories called the White Dragon. She could also be Final Starry Night Reborn, if the mighty Solar had met his death after all. Either way, the Anathema were on the move in the world and that was a fact.

It was also likely that Xilanada was that woman sighted, one of Final Starry Night’s number, a Blasphemer perhaps or maybe the Lunar herself in disguise. Yes, that would explain it. Ever since Malias had first heard her story, suspicion had seized him by the collar and shook him every time someone said "she doesn’t remember anything of her past."

And Hell itself feared her.

That was why he’d had those assassins sent after her. That was why he was now laying the second part of the trap, one that would kill her, the few witnesses and insure no blame could be laid at the School’s doorstep.

In a day, there would no longer be any need for masquerade but he had to preserve his plans until then.

Of course, she might have actually died already. His grim certainty didn’t preclude an error, in which case the girl would have no chance at all against those killers. Sen would be crushed but he would get over it. The boy always did. That could be used to drive him further toward his father's goals. Time would tell.

Tepet Ajalat Malias reached the Tower of the Guild at last.

The magnificent structure was the equal of any of the Realm’s greatest buildings, for it came from the same Age. Fully twelve stories tall, it was the headquarters and capital of the entire Guild. The building itself was locally as famous for the Guildhall Harlotry, arguably one of the very finest brothels and drug-dens in the entire span of Creation. Having sampled their pleasures, he was inclined to agree.

That wasn’t what he was here for today, though. Malias was met at the door by guards and serving girls. His finery ensured a polite greeting and the proper forged papers with the Factor’s seal got him through the lower floors without further incident. Today, he had made sure to dress merchant-rich and not wear the trappings of the Exalt. Much as that dying face of his haunted him every time he looked in a mirror, it would be a blessing here. A slight adjustment to his features, using a minor variant of Disguise of the New Face, took care of his Aspect Markings as well. Witnesses might remember an old man but they would never think him Dragon-Blooded.

Careful preparation meant he navigated the tower with familiarity, despite never having been here before. That same preparation put a confident stride in his step so that he passed unquestioned until he reached the offices he sought. His entry was barred at last but it was of no matter. A single trifling slave.

"Good day, sir," the slave said, bowing to him. He had the swarthy skin of the South and its accents clung to his voice but he wore the dress of the East and looked utterly unruffled as Malias stared down at him in annoyance. He kept his eyes low but that little smile on his face told of the confidence he had in his power here. A very trusted slave, that was obvious.

"Good day. I’m here to speak to the Factor. What’s your name?"

"The Factor is not presently in right now, sir. Did they not tell you that at the entrance? I would be most pleased to take a message for you, sir, and relay it to him."

"Of course. Here." Malias produced a scroll tube and passed it to him. "You remind me of Evaelle. Are you two related?"

"...yes, sir!" the man exclaimed in surprise. "She’s my sister. I did not know there were any who had dealt extensively with the Factor that I had not met. My name is Rashali." The slave bowed low and Malias chuckled as his perfect memory once again gave him the result he wanted.

"Rashali," he voiced in a tone that put spidervein-sized cracks across the stone walls. "Serve me!"

The power of the man’s True Name, uttered by one with the Voice of the Yozi's Charm, rocked the slave. In seconds, Malias’ power blew the man’s will to dust, subjugating him beneath his own mind’s might. The slave bent low, his eyes slightly vacant as he waited for instruction. Under such a Charm, the man might do almost anything though it sadly had its limits.

"You will take this box, Rashali, and place it on the Factor’s own bed. You will place this note with it and you will inform him that Hierarch Hendrika Niesink sends her favor for his recent successes and bids him to employ her gift on his favorite slave."

There, that would do. The Factor would believe himself protected, this high in the Guild Tower itself, opening a gift he was assured was safe on the word of one he trusted. Xilanada would be with him or, if not, would be shortly. The Factor was a massively determined man, obsessed with the recapture of his child-like slave. He would be the perfect tool to remove the risk from his School and the perfect means to kill her without any blame cast his way.

And then, there would be nothing between him and true immortality. Nothing but a single day.