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Thread: Welcome to Alara: Book One [Closed to Chaotic Cam and Zeebat]

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    Default Welcome to Alara: Book One [Closed to Chaotic Cam and Zeebat]



    BOOK ONE


    Imagine a world of magic with shining violet seas, rich emerald grass, and an azure sky with three beautiful moons, each one bigger than the other, and a single sun that glows a deep red. A world with golden sand and sparkling dunes, rich lavender snow, and onyx soil that's warm to the touch, except for the places where only ice lies beneath your feet.

    Imagine a world where chaos reigns and order destroys, where the 3 continents that make up the world are each in their own state of ruin, each one run by one of the first Powered Elites (sometimes called Magic Elite). These elite are the decedents of the very first Powered.

    The Powered Families were simply always in control of everything since the dawn of time. Since the people's grandparents, great-grandparents, and even their great-great-grandparents could remember, it just always was. There were 12 in the Realm of Oridian. There were 9 in the Realm of Asharia. There were 3 in the Land of Rebellion. And there were 7 in the Desert Sands (also known as the Continent of Eziunai, a barren wasteland).

    Each of the families planted their roots in their own controlled provinces, and each grew such a lineage to last thousands of years. For many centuries incest was popular among many Elite Families to keep the bloodlines pure, but down the line, it became more common to marry into regular families. However incest was still practiced for many years here and there, and only within the last 200 years was it considered distasteful. Magic only belongs to the relations of the Elite Families. 31 Elite families in the Entire World, and they control the planet.

    Sometimes, there are latent mutant X genes in a normal human's DNA. This creates what is called an Imp. The latent magic is there, but their specific family line would have bred the magic out throughout the centuries long ago, most likely a regional thing as their family would be forced to marry normal mortals in a place where magical folk didn't wander during periods of segregation.

    This 'theory' for the cause of the non-familial suddenly powered, more commonly referred to as Imps or Imposters, is the most accepted in the scientific community. However, there are skeptics out there who push propaganda saying that Imps don't have any latent DNA but are instead being given them by the government as special hand-picked favorites.

    Other conspiracy theories include that Imps are regular folk being possessed by demons, that they are demons, and even others say that Imps are thieves who steal powers from real families. They are demonized, and they are hunted and experimented on whenever the existence of one becomes known to a government. There are no laws in Asharia or Oridian about the Rights of the Imps. The Desert Sands deny their existence, and the only place of refuge for Imps is in the smallest continent, the Land of Rebellion.

    So imagine this world with its rich history, its dark past, and its mysterious Elite Families. This world dipped in hunger and strife despite having the very ability to grow food and create wealth from nothing. Think of this world, and think of two people from different mainlands thrust together in the most unlikely of meetings. Think of them and watch through your eyes as they battle demons both real and quite human. Close your eyes. Dream with me.

    ________________________________________

    PART ONE: WELCOME TO YOUR LIFE


    Circe Dune didn't know how to be a normal person. She was cold and often aloof and didn't really like to interact with other people. She was bookish, as well as by the book. She liked order and rules, and she stuck to her lane. She was a brilliant mind like all Durne's tended out to be. A literal IQ genius and chemist that worked in her own lab at Durne Pharmaceuticals, the company that her family name controlled.

    You see because she was a Durne, that came with a lot of baggage and history. She was one of the Elite and Powered of the realm, and she possessed the ability to make others see things in their minds. She could give them visions of hellish beings, or make them believe they're talking to their dead spouse.

    She could also manipulate people's minds. With one sentence she could make you howl like a wolf, in the next she could command you to kill yourself, and you'd do it. It was a dangerous power, being able to literally control another person and shape your reality around it. The Durne family had a long history of giving birth to murderers and lunatics, and if you weren't already insane the darkly seductive powers would soon change that. It was something she never wanted to become, and she had drawn a strict Line in the ground.

    This Line was a moral code. She would not use her powers for selfish gain, and never for evil reasons. She tried to use this particular power as little as possible, as she knew it was corrupted. Her last and final ability is minor telekinesis. She can move objects the size of a large table or smaller.

    So this is who she was. A chemist by profession and highly strung by nature. She was snarky, quick-witted, and no-nonsense. In other words, she had a stick up her ass. But all of that was about to change.

    JUNE

    Circe Durne was currently in The City of Fortune, the Eighth and Elite City of Oridian. It was the middle of the summer in the destination location, and Circe had fully come prepared to do nothing but relax and de-stress. The City of Fortune was a popular vacation hot spot, for it was right by the docks that bordered the Azure Sea. People pulling into the harbor could enjoy their vacation right away, and people leaving can go anywhere they wish beyond - if you had the coin, that is.

    It had beaches of golden sand that sparkled in the morning light, resorts and casinos, and all of the alcohol and entertainment you could possibly want. Now, while the whole of Alara was pretty much stuck in the late-Victorian style era when it came to technology (due to the abundance of magical solutions), and the dress and architecture were pretty much the same, there were a lot of differences.

    With the magical ability to shape the soil, minerals, and rock the Trinket family (one of the Twelve, and rulers of The City of Dust) were honored and well-respected architects who helped build many places around the country. In fact, they helped build Azura Pier where Circe was currently located, facing the ships on the dock which emitted no smoke, for with the use of magic there was no need to upgrade to metal engines. Instead their flags flew freely in the winds, displaying their individual banners.

    It was a gorgeous day, with many small shops around the transparent boardwalk peddling their wares and awing their customers. There was music and laughter and the wafting scent of buttered food and sweet treats. There were carnival games and restaurants, and overall the air was rippling with good times and happy people as they wandered around, the shining purple sea visible below their sturdy feet.

    Circe was wandering around absentmindedly, enjoying the view when suddenly a figure stepped right in front of her, thrusting a piece of jewelry at her face. "Brass Necklace, ma'am? Genuine Asharia metal made and imported right off the border! It would look beautiful on you, yes?"

    "No thank you," Circe murmured, her face scrunching up in annoyance as she moved to get out of his way. Sighing, she rolled her brown eyes skyward. She forgot how persistent some of the sellers here could be. It was crowded, and there were a lot of people around her, but she managed to dip under someone's arm and escaped all the traffic. As she turned around from the crowd she bumped into a child who quickly walked away.

    "Sorry - wait, hey, no! Stop right there!" She yelled, quickly realizing that her coin bag had been snatched. The boy stopped in his tracks, suddenly unable to move his feet as if they were glued to the ground.

    "Hey, what the hell is this?!" The kid struggled, trying to move as Circe caught up with him.

    Looking the thief over, Circe's anger only grew, as she could tell the child wasn't poorly off. In fact, he was wearing fancy clothes. She snatched the small leather pouch back and made a quick decision on what to do with him. She could always tell him to turn himself in to the police, but she knew he'd get a harsher sentence than such an act deserved.

    "Go home to your mother and tell her what you've done, then find any other stolen items you've taken and return them to their owners," she Commanded, using her power. The boy's eyes widened in fear as he felt her power begin to compel him, and his feet began to move. "And don't forget to apologize!" She yelled after him, watching as his small figure rushed away.

    Circe smirked, pleased with herself. She wasn't breaking any of her rules by doing this, and hopefully, the child would get a good reprimand from his mother, and learn a lesson from all of this.

    Suddenly the pad of Circe's thumb began to tingle where a small rune was tattooed there. Breaking out in a grin, Circe held up her thumb and index finger in an L shape, fixing her hair quickly before accepting the call. She looked presentable enough with her long hazel brown hair trailing down her back in a single braid, not a hair out of place. She was wearing her usual casual wear which included several items long-ago stolen from her brother's closet. This included black boots, a dark green tunic, and a dark leather jacket that made her feel like an adventurous pirate. The rest of her outfit included form-fitting leather pants (decidedly not from her brother's closet), and several pieces of jewelry adorned on her fingers and wrist.

    "I'm supposed to be on vacation," Circe reminded her friend, as she appeared in a sparkling mist in between her two fingers. The image blurred several times before finally coming into clear focus.

    "Not a social call, unfortunately," her friend and co-worker, Lilith, replied. "Your stupid cousin wants an answer on when the A5 testing pills will be ready for market. He's rather insistent you answer him now, and yes, before you ask, he knows you're on vacation. I don't know what to tell him, he also wants those documents you said you'd send him last week, apparently, they got lost and he never received them."

    Groaning, Circe resigned herself to a night at the resort hotel, not sipping Blue Drinks by the pool but instead working yet again on another project, because of course she couldn't get a moment's rest. Of course she had to do this now. She said goodbye to Lilith and then ended the call. It was getting late, and the sun was going down. Taking one last good glance at the sunset around the pier, Circe headed back the way she came, not noticing the eyes that followed her, or the feet that followed.

    Several hours passed since she got back to her suite, and her eyes were straining from staring at the holographs around her, enchanted magic that helped her visually map out what data she had and what she needed to send. When she was finally done answering all of her cousin's questions after calling him she began to work on another project she was in the middle of, because why not? Her vacation was already ruined. So it wasn't until it was very late and very dark that she finally drifted off to sleep.

    She woke to the feeling of being suffocated. Circe's eyes snapped open as she reflexively reached out, grappling with the hands that were currently around her throat. She flailed as she tried desperately to breathe, to speak, to do anything. She had no idea what was happening, but at the same time, she could hardly think beyond anything besides I need air. Her world went black.

    The next time she woke up it felt like the world was rocking, and she felt sick. She quickly passed out once more...

    "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!"

    Circe startled awake. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the dark room, but she could faintly make out her surroundings. It was a small room, with bare concrete walls and barely anything inside of it. There was only the chair she was tied to, the chair he was sitting on, and a small table by the far wall with what looked to be open books on top of it. Tearing her gaze away from the room, she instead focused them on the man in front of her, making sure her dark eyes portrayed every ounce of fury she felt. She was currently gagged, and there was a fresh rune tattooed on her neck that was temporarily repressing her powers.

    "So, you're a Durne." The man murmured, looking her over. He was of average build and had dark hair, green eyes, and brown skin - as was common among the people of Asharia, also known as the Border Lands. Circe narrowed her eyes at him at this statement, wondering what that had to do with anything. Before she could wonder too hard, however, she was suddenly shocked by a harsh backhand to her face. "That's for your Head of House!" He yelled.

    Ah, now she saw where this was going. Great, just great. Orion Durne, Head of House Durne was well known for making enemies. Circe just didn't know he had any east of the border. Wait a second, was she even in Oridian?! Faintly she started to recall the feeling of rocking and being on what sounded like a boat. Her eyes widened and she nearly began to panic before adjusting her breathing. She had to be calm, she had to be cool, and she had to be smart if she wanted to get out of this. She had no idea what her captor wanted, after all, and she couldn't exactly ask. She glared some more.

    "Fuck you," the man growled. "Fuck you, and fuck your uncle," he snapped. He shook his head before standing up from his chair, then turned his back to her and walked to the end of the room, before turning back to her once more. "I bet you have no idea why you're even here," he murmured after a few minutes of silence. "Well, let me enlighten you."

    "Durne Pharmaceuticals," he began. "The largest and most powerful pharmaceutical company in all of Oridian - the company for which you work as a chemist, and your Great-Uncle is the CEO. The same company that also peddles illegal power drugs and experimental procedures."

    Circe looked back at him blandly, as if it to say, yes, I know the one. Get on with it.

    She was well aware of the dark underbelly of her family's company. Or at least the rumors. She didn't like to think the medicine she was working on was being manipulated or misused for anything nefarious, so she decided shortly after she began to work that she'd ignore everything to do with the black market pills, and be blindly ignorant if she recognized any traces of her work in street drugs. If any of the street drugs were connected to her work, she'd know. However, so far she was pretty certain her inventions were only being used as intended - to help people. As for experiments and drugs made by others, well, there was evidence, and she knew the Durne's were capable of it.

    The man scoffed at her look of disinterest, barely contained fury plastered on his face. He looked like he wanted to hit her again, but instead went over to the wall by the table and punched it, before grabbing a gun out of one of the desks. Circe's eyes widened, once more paying rapt attention as he strode back over to her and sat down, pointing the gun at her more calmly.

    "Let me tell you a story about an idea that would change the way our brains work forever, and about the fool of the man who lost it all. It begins with a young twenty-year-old me living here in the slums of The Brass City, with no money and a sick mother. You see, my mother's brain was dying, and none of the doctors could fix it. I had no way to see one of the healers of the Aurora family, they were too far in Oridian and I was too poor - so I decided to work on a cure myself."

    "I had the idea, and it was foolproof. I already had created a prototype with promising prospects and results, but unfortunately, my name is a bit of a joke in the scientific community of Asharia, and so I couldn't exactly get any funding for more pills..." He trailed off, looking more and more uncertain as his anger slipped away to be replaced by a thoughtful expression as if he was remembering unpleasant things. Circe was starting to wonder if this man was as well-put-together as she first thought.

    "But one day I met a man who believed in me. He was a foreigner from overseas in Oridian. He was also a representative of Durne Pharmaceuticals. He said he'd provide me with a lab and the funding I needed... so I took it. I was also able to hand pick ten scientists to work with, and Durne provided. I worked here, on this side of the border on my work, and conferred and consulted with the Durne Lab on everything related to the drug. After three years it was finally perfected, and Remembrance was ready to put to market." He stopped here, almost sounding wistful. His expression then turned dark and angry as he hissed out his next words, "But before we could go public, your family cut all ties with me and my lab, and stole my work!" The last line was punctuated with a shout as he jabbed the butt of the gun onto her forehead, before regaining his temper and leaning back in his chair.

    Circe's mind was whirring. Remembrance. It was a relatively new drug that Durne Pharmaceuticals had created and put to market. It had to do with the memory sensors in the brain and retrieving thoughts and feelings that may have been forgotten. It was extremely popular not only for actually medicinal use but also by people who just wanted help with their memorization skills or remembering things long past. They had raked in quite a bit of money the first week it launched. She had no idea if what this man was saying was true, but if it was that meant the rights to Remembrance belonged partly to him, and he was cut out of a large financial gain.

    Well, what did she have to do with this besides being a Durne? Why was she the one to be kidnapped on vacation? Why was she the one that had to be dragged to an entirely different country? She was Orion's Great-Niece for crying out loud! It wasn't like there weren't more closely-related relatives to the man. Why wasn't one of her cousins or uncles sitting in this chair instead? That's a horrible thought, Circe.

    The man had stopped talking at this point, and he'd been sitting in front of her in silence for the past few minutes, gun still pointed at her as he seemed lost in thought. Despite his burst of anger here and there, along with the gun, he didn't really strike her as an opposing figure. No, she thought, he wasn't very scary at all. In fact, Circe realized the man looked rather disheveled as if he was hung-over and had a lack of sleep. She tried to sniff the air discreetly. Oh yeah, this guy enjoyed drinking from the bottle.

    "I don't know what I'm doing," the man finally sighed, clearly talking to himself as he stood back up and turned away from her, walking back over to the table on the other end of the room. She could hear him mumbling and talking to himself. She picked up snippets of his words and realized he was trying to figure out what to do with her as if he didn't have a plan in mind when she was first kidnapped! For the first time, Circe wondered if she had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. She wondered however how the man knew she was a Durne, and then she remembered. The child.

    He must have seen her use her power on the kid who had tried to steal her purse, and that's how he knew who she was. She wondered if this was even premeditated because Circe had gone off to The City of Fortune on rather a whim. Did she actually get kidnapped due to a drunk guy's stupid decisions? How the hell did she allow this to happen? Suddenly the door opened, and another man stepped inside. He had a slave collar around his neck and handed something to The Man before leaving again.

    Turning her attention away from what was going on across the room, Circe decided to try to find her bearings, and work on a means of escape. Her adrenaline had worn off by now and she was feeling beyond weary and tired. She just wanted to free her lips and then get out of here so she could go back home. Maybe yell at her Great-Uncle whenever she saw him at the next family dinner.

    Across the room The Man had begun to speak in a low voice, apparently communicating with someone from what little she could hear. His back was turned to her, but she assumed he was using a Holograph Rune to talk to someone else. "Yes, Harushu, Harushu Nai. You know me, I'm your cousin!" He snapped, before lowering his voice to a point she couldn't hear.

    While she was curious as to what was being said, Circe returned to work on her restraints. After over ten minutes of discreet wiggling and trying to use her other non-voice-operated powers, she gave up. There was no use, she was trapped here. She wanted to scream.

    She had no idea where she was, aside from the fact that she was so far away from home that she was on another land mass. She was tired, she was scared, and she was without her powers. She was all alone.

    After about twenty minutes the man, who she now knew was called Harushu, left the room. Soon after the slave from before entered, presumably to keep an eye on her. Hours and hours passed in silence, and she wondered if Harushu would ever return, and if he did, what he'd do with her. Or to her. It didn't seem like the man was very organized, and Circe had deduced a lot at this point from simply listening to the hitch of his breathing. He was a man with nothing that wanted everything. Someone with the anger required for revenge, but not the ability to go through with it. Circe was really beating herself up now for allowing herself to be captured so easily.

    Eventually, even Circe's self-preservation and fear couldn't keep her from dosing off, and it wasn't until several hours later that she woke up to a large bang. Gasping awake behind her gag, Circe's eyes quickly attempted to adjust to the room. There were no windows, so it was still dark despite however much time had passed, and the lamp was dim, so it was hard to make out the cause at first, until a light she'd never seen switched on, bathing the entire room.

    The noise was caused by the door slamming open, and the door handle was unnecessarily now embedded in the wall. Unnecessarily because Harushu was just behind the group of four men, dejectedly holding up a key ring as he looked at his wall which now had two holes in it. Circe's eyes quickly went back to the new arrivals, taking in their black tactical suits and weapons. Suddenly the one in the front opened his mouth and spoke. "Circe Durne. What a pleasure to meet you. You can call me The Handler, and I have a job proposition for you."
    Last edited by Chaotic Cam; 09-14-2022 at 11:39 PM.

  2. #2
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    The air was heavy with the familiar stench of sulfur here by the lower districts, not to the lightless depths of the slums but far from the artificially clean air of the shining brass towers that shone in Asheria's golden sun. The massive shining yellow river that flowed by the Brass City was a sign of its prestigious wealth, carrying pure sulfur deposits found nowhere else. Barges occasionally drifted along it, full of slaves that performed the toxic work of sifting out the precious material. At the same time, shining luxury boats sailed across the channel, lined with exotic materials forming complex runes that displayed the power of their owners. A better personification of the city there would seldom be.

    By the riverside a cobbled path wound by the bank various people walking or riding carriages as they made their way to the populated docks or back to the main city. Occasionally the monotony would be broken by shining contraptions that galloped and clanked down the path without the need of any flesh and blood beasts of burden. Lounging idly across the back seats of the bronze clockwork carriages Kine watched with bored eyes the rest of the squad he had been attached to for this assignment before turning his gaze out the stained glass windows.

    It had been a long time since he had been this close to the river, it wasn't the dark slums of his childhood but Kine still remembered the first rays of sunlight he had seen through the slits of the cage he had been placed in. The young man was not considered a person after all, not even now. He had been born an Imp that had the misfortune of attracting the attention of the enforcers that patrolled the lower district. From there it had been a quick transaction to purchase him from his single mother then being given over to Fornes Corporation as yet more feedstock for their experiments.

    The long tail and twitching cat ears he now had were remnants of those times, permanent markers of how he had been seen as just a blank canvas to see what results from some untested products would have on a human body. In a way he was quite fortunate, most in his position didn't live past five years. Kine had seen them die with his own eyes, their deaths painful if he couldn't give them that sole mercy he could offer. Instead thanks to a unique reaction his power and body had to an experimental serum that even now could not be replicated his owners had decided to mold him into a weapon.

    Kine had been given training in all forms of combat, along with various other mercenary skills that would be needed in other for him to be useful. Various other enhancements were made to his body, via drugs and branded runes across his skin. He could be considered a top project for the Corporation, certainly more wealth had been invested in him than most commoners would ever see in their entire lives.

    All of which made it strange that he was here with the rest of this squad. It was true that officially nothing more than another piece of equipment which, much like the thin silver chain that had been attached to his collar, was nothing more than lip service. He was more valuable than the rest of the squad, except for one of them, and far more deadly. Likely it was some sort of power play between his masters and those on their level.

    So no real interesting reason then.

    Falling into a light doze for the rest of the trip Kine stirred when their ride came to a stop outside one of the dockside houses. It was of higher make than many of the other houses to be sure but not to the point where he could say for sure that a noble lived here. Interesting. This was likely some sort of run to pick up a package that interested the masters. Normally taking livestock was done through the usual division or picked up from the slums by enforcers paid off by the Corporation. He had heard that occasionally squads were sent after particular high-value targets...was that was this was?

    Prowling out of the carriage after the rest of the squad had gotten out he eyed with distaste the silver chain now held in that man's grasp. Kine could snap it with a harsh movement but that would just get him punished later. Instead, he just adjusted the blades sheathed and his waist and back before following along obediently.

    He paid little attention to the man they met at the door, he gave all the signs of being weak and desperate, thus boring. the inside of the building was similarly drab though he kept an ear turned to the conversation that his Handler was having with the man. Much of it bored him but there were a few tidbits that Kine found rather interesting, tail lashing in excitement at the promised prospects. When they reached the correct room the rest of the squad pushed their way ahead of the weak man and forced the door open before turning on the lights.

    Leaning back idly Kine studied the woman tied to the chair, she didn't seem that impressive. Her muscle definition didn't speak of any muscle or combat training, her features were overall rather soft, and her fine clothes spoke of high status. Given how the powered tended to be however she could be far more formidable with her powers fully unleashed even against a trained squad. There was a reason those with power tended to reign over those without. Even the least of the gifted were significantly more dangerous than any mundane.

    Letting his tail idly sway the soldier wondered how his superiors would handle this mess. It was rare that he got such a treat as this, to watch the Handler work instead of being the subject of their skills. Rarer even then that the one that was being acquired was of foreign noble blood. Kine could feel his blood stir at just how rare this sight would be, a noble blood being forcefully acquired. They were usually the ones in charge after all, and rarely left their seats of power undefended.

    Would he get to actively participate perhaps? It was doubtful, he was more here as a reminder that his Master had taken some interest in the captive but he could hope. Even if something in him recoiled at the thought of working with the man who's tender mercies he'd had the displeasure of being subject to.
    The Guide to the Underzee. | Praise be to Scree. | Death is only the end if you assume the story is about you.

  3. #3
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    With the bright yellow light above bathing the room, Circe could finally make out her surroundings more and realized the room was slightly bigger than she thought, and there were several more items she could make out. The room had an overall desolate look as if it had once looked decent, but now it was worn out and gathering dust.

    Once upon a time, the metal walls might have been a deep maroon color, but now the paint seemed dulled and the color void of life. Meanwhile, the floor was brassy, and it gave off an eerie glow from the reflection of the light above, which was a singular glass orb dangling from the domed ceiling above them.

    It was only now that she realized there was a skylight above her, and she wondered why she couldn't see the light of the moons. It then dawned on her that it wasn't the darkness of the night she was looking at, but a deep and suffocating black smoke.

    There were now several more objects in the room that she could see. On the wall behind her was another metal table with a chair, and to the right of that were several filing cabinets. She noticed most of the furniture was made of metal - specifically, brass and bronze.

    The last and most curious thing she found, however, was that the wall to her left had a bunch of cogs and metal pipes sticking to it. Odd, yet it went along with the interior and didn't look out of place. She wondered what those could be for, then put two and two together when she glanced back up at the foggy sky.

    The room was still rather small in her opinion, but it wasn't as bare as she had previously thought. She assumed this was only one room in a larger building.

    It took her only a few seconds to look around, and now she centered her gaze upon the man who called himself The Handler. She looked at him with suspicion as he talked, and her eyes narrowed when he said job proposition. She wasn't sure what that entailed, except that this would be a pretty short interview if she couldn't talk.

    The Handler smirked at her like he could read her mind. "Sorry about that, don't worry, I'll let you talk in a minute," he told her. Hope sparked within her. Logically she didn't understand why he'd give her her voice back, she was a Durne, and he knew it. In the end, though, she didn't care. She would seize whatever opening she could get.

    He walked to the table by the cabinets, looking at it for a second before grabbing onto the edge. He then dragged it, the metal screeching along the floor as he positioned the heavy table in front of Circe. Next came the chair, which he turned around and straddled. He crossed his arms on the top of the chair, then nodded to one of the men behind him.

    The soldier (she assumed) was wearing the same black tactical gear as the rest of them, but she could distinguish him due to his shocking red hair. There were two other men in the room, one with sharp gray eyes and dark skin that seemed to be holding onto something, but she couldn't make out what. There was another figure standing right next to him, but they'd chosen the one corner of the room that was dark, so he was shrouded in the shadows.

    The redhead moved over to her, moving to take out the gag in her mouth. As soon as her lips were free, she spoke. "Release me now, and let me go free," she Demanded. Nothing happened.

    "Now, now, there, darling, you didn't think we came unprepared, did you?"

    His voice was rich and had a sharp, high tang to it. It did not suit his cold and tactical appearance at all, and it reminded Circe of how the people who visited from South Asharia spoke with long vowels and a relaxed pronunciation.

    Her eyes moved to his shoulder, where he had pulled down the collar of his shirt to reveal a Bio-Rune. It was pulsing orange from being recently activated. "Each of us sports one, so don't think about getting any ideas. Now, you could probably break these runes if you tried, but that is what my friends with the guns are for, so I suggest being on your best behavior." He flashed her a wolf-like grin.

    Circe glared at him. Of course, they'd tattoo anti-psychic runes on themselves. They knew who she was. He was right, though. Circe probably could eventually break through. She'd have to repeat her Commands over and over, but eventually, like a battering ram on a door, the rune would shatter into mist and lose its power. The problem with this was it would take more time, and that is something she didn't have.

    She decided to just play along for now and go with the flow. Making a decision Circe straightened her back and fixed her posture to give off an air of nonchalance mixed with confidence. Inwardly, though, she was screaming. Being kidnapped by Harushu had been startling and chaotic at best, but as soon as she realized that he was no threat to her, even without her powers, she let herself breathe. Now she didn’t have the luxury of an insignificant buffoon being her captor, and instead, she had to deal with these men - and they were noticeably more dangerous.

    She was scared despite her indifferent mask, which she often used as a wall between her and others. She was terrified of the unknown and what might happen to her. She was outnumbered. Even if she managed to escape, who knows if they would follow her? There was also the fact that she was on an entirely different continent, and despite learning the basic names of Asharia, she had no idea where she was or how to get home. She had never felt so powerless in a long, long time, and she continued to hate the feeling.

    “What do you want?” Circe asked insolently, plastering a false smile on her face as if this was just like any other normal job interview she didn’t want to attend.

    She couldn’t let her fear rule her. No, she needed to stay calm, cool and collected. She’d wait, she’d listen, and she’d use her wits to get out of here - just like she always did. She would escape this place, and then she’d be in control. She could easily get in contact with Lilith back in her hometown and warn her of what had happened. She was a Durne. She was powerful. She could fight back.

    The Handler nodded as if pleased that this was the first thing she asked. He stopped straddling the chair and stood up, turning it back properly towards her as he sat down, all business-like. His emerald eyes glittered as he put on a charming smile. “Well now, Miss Durne, I’m glad you asked!”

    “You see, you find yourself with an opportunity here. You help us, we help you. There is something I would like your help acquiring, you see, and you just so happen to have the skills and connections to get what I want.

    “Now, we all know the reputation of the Durne family, and no offense, but y’all aren’t exactly known for your gracious and shining hearts,” he smirked at this, but she gave off no reaction, so he continued, leaning forward in his chair. “We all know the rumors. Well, at least everyone in this room does,” he clarified. “We all know that the Durne's tend to breed sadists, rapists, and murderers - and rarely do you find an apple that’s fallen far from the tree. Yet lookie here, I just happened to come across one. That’s you, sweetheart, in case you didn’t realize.”

    Circe was bold enough to roll her eyes. She was well aware of how people viewed her family. The Durne’s were an unsavory word on a person’s tongue, yet still, they feared them, because there was no chance for revolt. There was so much more an enemy of a Durne could fear besides being mind-controlled. The Durne family was old, rich, and powerful. No one could stand against us.

    For some reason, he seemed to think she was different, though. Either way, Circe didn’t care. She was getting annoyed.

    The Handler nodded to the redhead again, and the soldier stepped forward and handed him a thin file. The Handler then placed the file on the table in front of him and opened it. She glanced at it quickly, and right away she noticed her name plastered at the top.

    “Circe Durne,” he began, reading from the file. “Born on the twentieth of June, 1850. Twenty-three years old. Great-Niece of Orion Durne, Head of House Durne. Father Charles Durne, was born on the twenty-eighth of October, 1821. Nephew to Orion Durne, Head of House Durne. Isabella Durne, mother of Circe Durne, born on the -”

    “First of April, yeah. I know who I am, and I also know who my family members are. So if you could just get to the point, that would be great.” Circe snapped, losing her patience.

    Suddenly a dangerous light entered The Handler’s eyes, and Circe felt a chill go down her back. He ignored what she said. Instead, he pretended like he didn't hear her and turned back to the file, backtracking a bit.

    “Isabella Durne, born the first of April, 1822. Wife of Charles Durne. Mother of Septimus and Circe Durne. Exact location; the City of Enlightenment, Penthouse 1450, Durne Tower. Religiously spotted in the Fashion District on the weekends from dawn till dusk.” Circe was starting to get a bad feeling as he continued to read down the line, especially given that last footnote.

    “Septimus Durne, born on the thirty-first of October, 1845. Only sibling and brother of Circe Durne. Lives in the City of Order’s Government District as their house representative, as does his wife and newborn daughter. Lives in Durne Manor, Building 5. Likes to go down to the pub on main street every Friday around noon.” He flipped the page.

    “Lilith Umber, a chemist at Durne Pharmaceuticals, and a close friend of Circe Durne. Exact location; the City of Enlightenment, the Upper District, Suite 19 in Umber tower. Walks her dogs every morning at six am.” He turned the page again.

    “I get it,” Circe replied stiffly. Outwardly she kept control of her expression, but inwardly she was fuming. How dare they threaten her and the people she cared about? Who did these people think they were? They acted like they knew who she was. They acted like they knew everything about her. They were wrong. If they knew anything about Circe Durne, they would know that she was a very petty person. All threats aside, she’d escape out of pure spite. The Handler could lick at his wounds and loss of pride while Circe made her way back home. She’d regroup, and she’d make her Great-Uncle aware of this threat. It wasn’t that she was loyal to Orion Durne, so much as she did take the threat against her family seriously, and letting the Head of House know of the threat would ensure their safety.

    So she’d play along for now. She’d pretend she was listening, and that she was actually intrigued by their offer. Let the Handler assume what he wants about her. In the end, she’d get the drop on them all.

    “Look, I’ll cut to the chase. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” he explained. "The easy way involves us agreeing on your payment, and you kindly doing what we've asked. Now, I know you can get what you want just by asking, but I’m sure there’s something we can provide for you that you want. And as for the hard way? Well, use your imagination." The grin he bore was made of all teeth.

    “I know you have no loyalty to Orion Durne, and I know you hate him just as much as a lot of people do. He’s a despicable being, and you should. I also know that you’re a woman who keeps her word, a brilliant scientist, and a charitable person who has donated bushels of gold to various well-meaning organizations. You’re also not known to be particularly cruel, unlike the rest of your family.”

    Circe could have wondered how he got that information, but in a world where you had spies that could literally read minds, she knew it wasn’t impossible. Not to mention a lot of the information about her could just be found by opening a book or browsing the web. Either way, he was wrong. Not everyone in her family was cruel. Most of them, yes, but there were exceptions. Her brother and uncle were two of them.

    “Well, you seem to know me pretty well,” Circe replied, her lips pressed in a thin line. She just wanted him to cut to the chase.

    Sensing her impatience, the Handler gave her a wry smile. “I think we can help each other out. You have power, girl, and I’m sure you know it. Orion Durne is your Great-Uncle, and you and your immediate family are still on good terms with him. You have a brother in the heart of the government, and you’re still invited to all of the fancy parties. We want you to infiltrate one of these parties,” he explained.

    Circe couldn’t help it, her interest peaked.

    The Handler continued, “Every Winter Solstice Volador Oridian hosts an Elite Ball. Only the most powerful families can attend, and even then the guest list is exclusive. Orion Durne has an invitation as Head of his House. Your brother, Septimus, also has an invitation. You are to acquire another invitation for yourself.”

    Her eyes narrowed, but she decided to bite. “And why might that be?”

    The Handler nodded, glad that she seemed to be listening. “There is an artifact that is being hidden in Oridian Manor, and the person I work for wants it. You are in a position to help us with both your connections and your amazing gifts,” he explained, trying to fluff up the girl's ego. Despite his own personal feelings on the matter, this would all go more smoothly if the girl just cooperated.

    “We think you’d be perfect to infiltrate the mansion and steal it for us. With your gifts, you could breeze right through any human defenses that get in your way and order them to do whatever you want. In the end, you could even order any witnesses to forget you were ever there. It will be easy,” he promised, his charming smile back in place.

    Inwardly, Circe was getting bored. They wanted her to go to a ball? Circe never attended those stupid things, not unless she had to or if it was work-related. Despite having a few close friends that she cared about, Circe was very anti-social, and she hated mingling with other people.

    “Now, you’ll be wanting to get your own separate invitation, that way you’ll be able to bring your own guest,” The Handler clarified. “You’re not to ask your brother to be his guest. You want your own ticket, got it? I have someone who will accompany you as your date. He’s a commoner, so you’ll need to make up your own backstory, and make it convincing -”

    He was interrupted by a snort. Circe just couldn’t help it. A commoner? Oh no, there was no way she could teach one of those sad sods the required decorum and manners to pass off as a noble. The grace and poise the Elite held was not something you could imitate - it was something you were born with.

    “Is something funny?” The Handler snapped back.

    Circe shook her head, trying her best to hold in the rest of her laughter. Her amused expression didn’t quite go unnoticed. “No, no, please, go ahead.”

    The Handler glared, his patience now wearing thin. “Back to what I was saying. The invitations say you’re allowed to bring one guest. Kine here will be the one to escort you, and make sure the job gets completed with no fuss.”

    He’d also make sure you didn’t escape, she surmised. Great - oversight. If she was to go along with this plan it would be even harder to escape. Sure she’d be free, but she’d also still be a prisoner. No, she needed to escape now.

    “There will be one more person accompanying you, but don’t worry about them getting an invitation, he’ll be more of an in-the-shadows kind of guy. He’ll be making sure you both bring back the artifact in one piece.”

    Circe couldn’t help but find that strange. Did they need someone to watch over the person meant to be watching her? That made no sense. You know what, she didn’t care. She was growing tired of this, and her legs were stiff and sore from misuse. In fact, every part of her felt sore, like she was one giant sleep-deprived bruise. It was time to put her plan into action. She needed them to believe she was interested. She needed them to release her from her bonds so she could run. She started to make a plan.

    Circe leveled her gaze at the Handler, as they both assessed one another. “And what happens if I refuse?” She dared to ask.

    The Handler smiled as if he had been eagerly waiting for her to ask that question. “Well then, my friend Kine here will try to… change your mind.”

    It was only then that Circe realized the shadow in the corner had moved, and she was able to see them properly for the first time as they came to stand by The Handler. A sense of dread and unease engulfed her as her eyes took in the hideous creature. He was unlike anything she had ever heard or seen of before. He was a pale man of lean build, with sharp features and an angular face. His eyes were the color of an aquamarine sky, and his hair was a warm steel gray. He also had a long scar that was slashed across his face, it ran down from his right eyebrow all the way to the bottom of his left eye. That wasn’t what had startled her the most though, oh no. What had her on edge were the two giant cat ears that seemed to protrude from the man’s mop of hair. That, and the tail was languidly swishing in the air behind him.

    Monster, she thought. Monster, demon, or creature from the Swamp of Time. Whatever he was, he filled her with such unease that she could feel the shivers along her spine. Circe double-checked herself, doing her best to not outwardly react to the abomination.

    “This is Kine, and he’ll be the commoner escorting you to the ball. He’ll also be the one watching over you, and the one that will hurt you if you don’t do as I say,” The Handler warned, choosing to be blunt. “Let me tell you, sweetheart, the easy way is much preferable to the hard.” He nodded to Kine, and Circe’s eyes widened as the creature’s fingers began to spark with electricity, ominous and foreboding.

    Circe went sheet-white. She tried her best to hide it, of course, but now she was properly terrified. The only way the creature in front of her could have powers was if he was from nobility, if he was from one of the thirty-one houses. That only left two explanations; one, he was a feline creature with powers, or two, that he was an Imp that had been experimented on. Circe was rather well-read, and she knew such a creature with powers of electricity didn’t exist. That left only one option. He was an Imp.

    It wasn’t known by many, but Circe was a very superstitious woman, and she believed in both the Old Gods and the many demons they claimed overran their world. Long ago, stories were told of Imps that began to possess the citizens of Oridian. These people began to experience strange powers that were unknown to the Houses, and the explanation for this was that Impacus Dumanas - an evil incorporeal spirit made of magic - was possessing these regular mortals and taking over their lives. The more commonly known name for these people was Imps. They were imposters in the human race, and there was a prophecy that they would one day bring mass destruction and hellfire upon Alara.

    Her mother had often told her stories of the Imps before bed and how they would torture you in your dreams and feast on your magic until nothing was left of you but shriveled-up bones. They were impervious to any of the Powers, and they took delight in eating the viscera of small children.

    Circe gulped, and the Handler couldn’t help but notice the reaction. Meanwhile, Circe noticed him noticing her, and decided to let him think whatever he wanted regarding her motivations. Whether she was intrigued or scared, it didn’t matter, in his mind, it was all the same as long as she agreed to do what he wanted.

    “Fine, you’ve got my attention. I’m intrigued,” she said through a gritted smile. She didn’t want to seem like she was doing a 180. Oh no, she was still visibly pissed about her situation. Besides, the Handler thought he was the one with all the power right now. He probably thought she was accepting his offer because she was afraid of him. Circe would prove him wrong.

    “While I don’t appreciate how I was….acquired,” she trailed off, decidedly not using the correct term of kidnapped, “I’m willing to forgive it. If you do something for me in return.”

    The handler perked up at this, before his eyes narrowed, accessing her deeply. He made a decision, however, and nodded. “Name your price.”

    Circe smirked, pleased. “You’re right,” she began, “I can get whatever I want just by asking. But not towards my own family.” It was a well-established fact that powerful families couldn’t use their gifts on close relatives with the same blood. For example, a Durne could use their gift on another gifted family - a Sparrow, for example - but a Durne couldn’t use their power on a Durne. This brought an entirely new dynamic to inter-family feuds.

    “So here’s what I want from you,” Circe explained, her smile getting bigger. “I want you to kill my father.”

    It was a shocking sentence, and Circe could tell the Handler wasn’t expecting it. His eyes narrowed, suspicious. “Why?”

    “He beats my mother. It’s as simple as that. I despise him and I want him gone.”

    It was a valid excuse, and in another world, she might have actually gone through with this plan just for this reward in turn, since it was also true. It wasn’t public knowledge that Charles Durne controlled everything Isabella Durne did, but honestly, Circe didn’t care who knew. Let the world know about her shitty father and the shitty things he did. Let his image and reputation be slandered.

    "But really, why do you care? Not up to the job?" Circe asked, feeling cocky.

    There was silence. The Handler stared at her for a long time, and the Durne girl stared back, her resolve unwavering. The request had surprised him, but he could also tell that she meant it when she said that she despised her father. She was telling the truth. Her request was also rooted in logic because it was one of the few tasks she’d have problems executing herself.

    Several minutes went by before the Handler nodded, his entire demeanor changing back to that of a pleasant old grandpa, despite his outward youth. “We can do that for you,” he grinned. He nodded, making a decision as he stood up. “I’m glad we could come to an agreement, Miss Durne. I look forward to working with you. Now, my boys here will escort you to another room, we can all sit down and eat, and then we can prepare for the task at hand,” the Handler began to explain, gesturing to one of the soldiers to release her.

    Circe waited with bated breath as the gray-eyed soldier came closer, keeping her cool as warm brown hands reached towards the locks that were binding her chains. The Handler was still talking, but at this point Circe had tuned him out, anxiously waiting for her chance to pounce. It came with a dull click, and Circe was finally released. Wasting no time, Circe’s eyes locked with gray, and she drew a breath, knowing she’d have to act and speak quick.

    “Let me go, let me go, let me go,” Circe chanted, channeling her power into the Commands as she quickly repeated them in a reverent mantra, a tongue-twister that only she could master. The runes on the soldiers' necks sparked in response, and Circe quickly moved into action before they could point their guns at her, ducking her entire body towards the floor as she tried to maneuver her way around guards without getting shot. They hadn’t started to fire yet, but she didn’t want to take any chances.

    “Let me out, let me out, let me out, let me out -” Circe prayed reverently as the Handler yelled at them to not shoot. She was close to the door when the one with red hair blocked her way. She started to channel more power into her Commands, and she watched gleefully as the runes continued to shimmer and crackle, causing physical pain to the flesh it was attached to.

    Only a few heartbeats had passed by this time, but Circe’s confidence had grown as she ducked under the redhead's arm and made her way to the door. Before she could get through the entrance however a fist flew into her vision and made contact with her throat.

    Circe choked, wheezing as her voice was taken from her. The runes stopped glowing and the redheaded soldier grabbed Circe in his arms, hugging her back to his chest as one of his hands went to cup her mouth, preventing her from speaking.

    Circe struggled in the soldier's grip, trying desperately to escape as she screamed behind the man’s hand, unable to form words but still able to express her frustration. The Handler slowly walked up to her, planting his feet on the ground firmly before looking down at her.

    “Well now, Miss Durne, you disappoint me,” he tsked. “I really hoped we could be friends for a second there.” He then gestured to the Imp behind him, giving him a non-verbal command. The last thing Circe saw before she was knocked unconscious was the demon strutting toward her, and she wondered for once if she was going to die. Instead, she was met with darkness, and she could worry no more.

    The Handler gazed at Circe’s unconscious form dispassionately. He didn’t appreciate being made a fool of, and the girl tricking him was a stab at his pride. He wouldn’t underestimate her again. If she wanted to do this the hard way, then so be it. Two could play the game of manipulation. He had noticed her spark of fear when he introduced his little experiment. She was afraid of him, he could tell. Her file did say she was religious, but The Handler hadn’t really thought much of it at the time. But now? Oh now he had plans.

    “Kine. Make her change her mind. Make her fear us. Circe Durne is a religious woman - play on that. She’ll think you’re a demon. Be a demon. And if all else fails… Well, I’ve always found electricity to be a powerful motivator.”
    Last edited by Chaotic Cam; 09-10-2022 at 01:31 AM.

  4. #4
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    "As you command." The warrior sighed before hefting the unconscious woman in his arms into a better carrying position so they could begin moving out. She wouldn't be out for long from the brief electric shock he had given her but it would be long enough for him to apply some sedatives so they could wake her up at their leisure. Easier for them to transport her that way to one of their satellite facilities. This place and its owner had already been compromised which had Kine wonder for a moment if the sniveling man they had met here would live past the day once the clean-up squad had finished with the area.

    It wasn't important really. Not with his current assignment. It was rare he was allowed a chance at any high-value interrogation targets usually just serving as a good tool to take out targets a guard, or other such duties so he was looking forward to this quite a bit. That she looked down on him for being lowborn and having the misfortune of having powers from birth despite that was just icing on the cake.

    After another boring, ride this time with a prisoner, he soon found himself walking through the brass-plated facility located in the slum district. Almost nostalgic to be here again, but none of the memories were any good. How could it be when those that lived here were doomed to be rats that never even saw the sun or breathed clean air? There were worse fates, Kine had been unfortunate enough to live through one of them, but it was still not how any person should be treated. Pushing such thoughts out of his mind he looked over the woman again, checking the sedative patch they had placed on her upper arm.


    Dragging the unconscious woman into the mind-numbingly empty room Kine got to work securing her into the restraining chair set in the room. That and the slab bed fixed onto the back wall were the only features in the room. Everything else was just blank grey walls. Not his preferred room for tasks or play but he had been ordered that this Circe woman remained as physically untouched as possible. Thus, the mind games.

    Finishing tightening the last strap he checked over her again, ensuring the new suppression rune that had been applied was correct. Even if it wasn't he had his own branded runes that were strong enough to resist attempts to control him but following proper procedure was never a waste. Once he was satisfied that everything was secure Kine applied the counter-agent of the sedative before leaning back against the wall to wait for her to wait up.

    He'd have to play on what she saw him as. Not something he liked but easy enough to set himself up as a monster to fear in her eyes. That was already what he pretty much was to her so he just had to play into it. Some of his favored tactics could be brought into play as well. How long she would last he wasn't sure of but he doubted that it would be long she didn't seem like the type that had received security training or ee much hardship.
    The Guide to the Underzee. | Praise be to Scree. | Death is only the end if you assume the story is about you.

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