Akeron felt a hand on his wound as his eyes acclimated to the light. A young woman, with brown eyes and tender fingers, redressed his wound and applied a kind of ointment that stung ever so slightly. He had run out of his tincture; he felt the hunger and thirst well up inside him.
The young woman left him on the bed, without uttering a word. Somehow, she reminded him of Mosi. Where could she be? His joints ached with every slight movement, but he pushed himself to stand, understanding that he had to leave there. He had won against the haga, barely, but if there was anything he knew about So'lan, it was his greed. The entertainment that he enjoyed — and provided — would not be muddled by his defiance. Somehow, someway, he would get him to stay, and this itself would be against existence as an Orod. The mission must be completed.
He stood against the wall, listening as the footsteps receded before he made his move for the window. Looking through, he found that his room was situated on the top floor, counting about twenty-five floors to traverse. Impossible in his condition. And even if he could, he would have to engage the guards situated around every corner of the compound. A trap, he thought. Without much thought, he made for the door. The hallway was barely illuminated, empty, and with every step, the sharp cold hit his bare foot. At the end of the hallway was a door, one he moved toward, fighting the pain and the urge to hurl. What is this place?
He pushed the door open slightly, peering through only to meet his eyes with So'lan. "Shit."
So'lan flashed a smile at him, pushing the door clear open. "My champion. I was afraid that you were dead."
"My kind has more resilience than that," he sensed. Something is different. "How long was I out for?"
"Two, maybe three days. The nurse came to inform me that the moment you open your eyes, welcome to the land of the living."
"What more do you want with me?"
"I am a simple man, with simple asks, although my children have informed me of my tendencies to overindulge."
"And Mosi?"
"Oh, her. I never had her; I just said that to give you motivation. From what I've been told, she's off planet."
Relief. That would mean his freedom did not hinge on the survival of an acquaintance that he had grown quite fond of. Akeron winced. "I can leave then."
"Yes, but first, I want to invite you to dinner. This is totally voluntary, as an attempt to mend our relationship," So'lan rubbed his hands together, his smile weakened. "What do you say?"
With an unchanged demeanor, Akeron responded. "No."
"Come on, I apologized.
"You did not."
"You know I want to; that is what matters. I feel it in my heart. Just a dinner, a token of gratitude alongside gifts for your journey."
Akeron considered the proposal. This was a man who had troubled him and nearly gotten him killed, but he could not retaliate, not in his current condition. And even if he did, relationships between the Ulyrn Nezys and the Pewan would take a hit. Regardless, he had to be wary of his situation.
The dining table extended across the large dining room, with dozens of empty chairs on either side and a golden chair at the end, looking down on everyone else. This is where the tax was going, Akeron thought. Eshe, the daughter of Lord So'lan, was the first to arrive, in her flowing dress adorned with expensive minerals, followed by Zuri, the younger son and heir to the seat of the Lord, in his distinct attire, with a hand resting on the blade attached to his belt.
The boy took a seat right beside him, and after a moment of silence, he spoke. "How do you do it?"
Akeron retorted. "Do what?"
"Your magic, how do you do it?"
"You wouldn't understand it even if I tried to explain," said Akeron. "Why do you ask?"
"I want to learn."
Eshe growled. "Zuri!"
"I don't need your input," he answered, turning back to face Akeron. "Your magic, I wish to learn it. Can you teach me?"
Akeron said. "What makes you think it can be taught?"
"Well, you weren't born with it. I know that much about the Orod. You were like me, once, but you were taught. I want you to teach me, name your price, my father will pay you."
"Money is not the issue, you see, learning tincture is not the same as learning how to wield a blade."
"I am young, I have time."
"Why do you want it?"
Zuri faltered. "Why not?"
The large door opened, and So'lan walked in clad in a gold attire and a lion's mane across his neck. He marched with such commanding presence that Akeron felt the urge to stand up for his arrival like his children had, but he remained in his seat, seemingly unfazed. Behind him were two half-naked women, carrying what would be the feast for the afternoon, and behind them was Febun, with his ugly demeanor as usual.
So'lan grunted, taking his seat, signaling to his children to do the same. "Akeron of Orod, I am honored."
Akeron smiled at Febun. "It would seem that you are running low on slaves."
"He has served House Oran well, I trust him with my life," said So'lan. "But you need not worry, he isn't leaving here with you."
The women placed the food in front of Akeron, and he caught their eyes. Dead and soulless, he wondered what had happened to lead them into the hands of a man as unstable as So'lan. An unpaid debt, perhaps. The aroma filled Akeron's nostrils, and without thought, he scooped a spoonful and downed it. The judgmental stares from the room did not bother him; he knew he had broken a rule, but he did not belong to the House, and none of them applied to him anyway.
So'lan held out his cup, and one of the women filled it with wine. He took a sniff, set it on the table, then consumed his food. "Why did you come to Ulyrn Nezys? Surely it can't be for your woman."
Akeron answered. "Why not?"
"Believe it or not, I do not take you to be an idiot. And I would assume that you do not think that of me either."
Does he know? Akeron set down his utensil, leaving half his plate uneaten. "Why do you think I'm here?"
"An Orod lives just for one thing. Twelve, I should say. I believe you're here for one of them."
"And what if I am?"
"I may be of assistance."
There is a catch, he thought. "I do not want your assistance."
"But you may need it," said So'lan with a smile. "Nothing happens on this planet without my knowledge."
Akeron scoffed. "What is it that you want from me?"
So'lan took a moment as he downed the contents of his cup. "There is a man who goes by the name of Hudun. He was my right-hand until I sent him down south after I learned of his secret dealings. Now I'm getting word that he's assisting strangers from obscure ships."
It's them, Akeron thought. "The bandits, you know where they are."
"Yes," he answered. "I do."
"This man, Hudun. After what he did, you allowed him to live, why?"
"Friendship is such a strong thing, or perhaps naivety. A man of my age, who would've thought," So'lan tapped on the table. "It was just a simple deal, but now he's giving refuge to strangers on my land. What else could he be doing?"
Akeron said. "I am not a hired gun, I hope you are aware."
"But the element is important to you, important to your cause. What do you think would happen if word got out to the rest of the galaxy? The attention that would attract."
The thought alone sent shivers down his spine. The elements, at the current market value, would fetch a fortune. Every mercenary, thief, or lowlife hoping to make a quick buck would be on Ulyrn Nezys as fast as they could. This endeavor requires a sensible approach, he thought.
"You want this man dead," said Akeron. "I kill him, and then what? I get to keep the element."
"And a safe journey out of here, with a better ship than the one you arrived in."
"I would have to face the bandits myself," Akeron winced. "Our previous encounter did not go so well for me."
"I still have loyalties down south, how do you think I got the information to begin with?"
"And they can't take out Hudun?"
"None of them can singlehandedly take down a haga," So'lan smirked. "You've already proven your worth."
"I do not know this Hudun. How am I sure that you aren't lying to get me to do your bidding again?"
"You have no choice, Orod."
"I could bargain with him."
So'lan scoffed. "With what?"
"Your head."
The air got still, and Febun's blade left its sheath. Akeron could see the terror in Eshe's eyes, and Zuri, an expression that communicated his readiness but lack of conviction. He had not yet made a move, but his words alone made everyone tense. He dared not; he could kill everyone in the room, but no escape plan in sight.
"Calm down, Febun," said So'lan, concealing his fear. "He would not try anything in here. He knows better."
Febun growled. "I do not trust him."
"I will not repeat myself."
Febun retreated. "My lord."
"My death would only give him the chance at my seat," said So'lan. "He would have no use for you."
"Perhaps. But I need a guarantee. I can't take your word for it," the stakes, none of it would affect So'lan, not personally. Akeron glanced at Zuri. "The boy goes with me."
Eshe blurted. "What?"
"The heir of House Oran," said Akeron. "He goes with me. Once my mission is completed, he will be returned, unharmed."
Febun said. "You cannot even protect yourself, how do you intend to—"
"That is my request," Akeron faced So'lan, whose smug expression had faded. "The choice is yours."