Spoiler
Blood was necessary as it ever was. She clasped her hand over her left eye, flinching as pain stabbed her like a needle. Her heart beat strongly like a drum, fast like a flap of a butterfly's wings, feeling as if it would break her ribs more than they already were and pop out flying like a bullet. It was only the beginning. She knew it very well. No authorities respected edgy Private Intelligence who clicked their tongue and talked back as if they were the authority in the conversation. She sucked as a PI sometimes, like now.
"I fail to understand why you still are a part of PI," her employer spoke in a deep, rough voice, sounding like a god. His golden eyes stared at her, frowning ever so slightly, no wrinkles showing on his pale, but golden ageless face. She chuckled, spitting blood at his feet. It felt bitter in her mouth. Or was it sour? She licked her lips.
"Well, you keep on hiring me," she said, shrugging boldly. She shuddered. She could not define the pain. "They don't care about my manners. I do a good job, no?" Her employer laughed.
"Swell," he said. "Even better at getting beat up." His large lackey moved his wrist with an exceptionally fast movement, the thick whip forcing her to fall to her knees as it struck home at the back of them, scraping the skin, causing it to bleed. The pain numbed her, so she focused on it instead the split above her eye. His lackey had one hell of a fist. Her employer laughed. "No hard feelings. You know I love you. I would not hire you were you not close to my heart. You're the easiest to torture. No, not easiest. Toughest skin, you have, of all the girls."
"You disgusting sadist," she spat some more blood, this time the serving splattering all over his fine, polished shoes of a rich man. His face contorted as he stared at the slimy mixture. He crouched down and stared into her eyes.
"You're so young. It would be a waste to kill you. You're lucky," he said. "Your luck is inversely proportional to your intellect, I must say. It is disappointing, but cannot be changed. You're too reckless to live long in a world like this, with a profession like yours."
"Well, I guess this can only be my problem," she said.
"I have recommended you," he said, standing up and stepping backwards. He sighed. "It will be great profit if you succeed as I have promised the king." He laughed. It was a strange laugh, deep and almost devilish. She grimaced, then flinched as the split on her face moved and pained her. "Necle, you are to accept, of course. You must, of course. You are a PI, after all. You'd better do a damn good job." He spun on his heels and dashed off, the sound of painfully expensive shoes adorned with her saliva and blood echoing around her. She shuddered. As he left, she felt a large fist meet her face when the light flickered to its death, or perhaps it was only her seeing black with a flash of red.
***
She woke up on polished stone, much unlike the rough cold stone of Zeuli's personal dungeon. She remained in the position she was in. It was most likely much more comfortable than she would have felt had she tried to move.
"You awake?" It felt familiar. Sounded familiar. She opened her right eye. Her left one was right on the floor, the coldness somehow easing the pain of the split, even if it made it hurt more. She had never been able to have only one eye open if one was not pressed closed.
The person's face hovered over hers. It was PI Head, Covar. She snorted. She could not speak, really. She closed her eyes again, wanting to sleep again. A needle pierced her shoulder. She shrieked at the roughness of the action, pushing her torso up off the ground with her arms. Covar cursed, pulling the needle out. Necle shuddered and fell back to the ground. "Stay still." She felt something leave her skin. She wanted to vomit at the feeling. "Good. Let me try again." She felt a needle in her shoulder again an yelped, bit remained lying on the floor. She could feel something enter her blood system. She groaned and started shivering violently. It stopped soon enough, and all the pain faded away with it.
She pushed herself up again, taking in a deep breath. She moved around to settle in a sitting position with legs crossed. "What was that? It felt terrible."
"Something to heal you," he said. "Only I have access." He placed his hand on her shoulder. "You're fine now." She scratched her head and sighed.
"Where am I now?" she asked, turning her head to look at him. He was an old man, yet he was still the best in their profession.
"Throne room." Her head darted upward, seeing the king sitting in his throne in front of her.
"What a fine spot to dump an unconscious PI," she muttered.
"Welcome," the king said. He was a withered old man, scarred in his many battles, wrinkled from all his deep thoughts, hunched over from too much sitting as of late. "Would you be so kind to stand up? I won't even insist on kneeling and bowing." Necle opened her mouth to speak, but soon closed them. Covar ran a hand through his still thick, but grey hair, standing up and offering her his scarred hand with rough skin to pull her up. She took the offer, pulling herself up to her feet with his aid, feeling her feet wobbling before she regained full control. She stared at the king, waiting for him to speak. He heaved a sigh. His voice was not booming or terrifying; it was childish and high pitched. She must have had a deeper voice, even at her age of nineteen where she was still so young. However, he did not speak.
"Your Highness?" she started, raising an eyebrow. She coughed, the words as if choking her. Covar patted her back with his firm slaps and strong hand. She flinched and hit her fist against her chest, the coughing fit ending.
"Have you been told what I ask of you?" he asked. She shook her head. The king sighed, leaning his head to his hand, his elbow on the cushioned armrest. He rubbed his temples with thick fingers. "Have you heard of a war?" Necle shook her head again. "Well, now you have. I have been thinking of ending this Nordfam Alliance between our Zalvoe and that Teteq Kingdom. And how to end it? Well, we have many people of our nationality in their higher ranks, as you know." He paused. She nodded. He smiled and continued: "This will help us. Now, what I want is to have complete reign over them. I will call the meeting soon. My experience tells me a war will break out. Therefore, I require the Hairken Blade." Necle sighed.
"Whatever that is," she said. The king flinched.
"Why, of course, you most likely know no legends," he said. "Or, perhaps..." He sighed. "The Dragonwhisker sword?" She snapped her fingers.
"Oh, that. Hairken Blade?" she snorted. The king chuckled.
"Yes. I need it. With it, Teteq will fall easily," he said. "Now, the catch is... This blade is located underneath the royal castle of the kingdom, and they are aware of the location of the blade. I know about it because of them." He raised an eyebrow. "Go and fetch it for me. PI will be rich, and so will you."
"I suppose it's guarded," she said.
"Heavily," the king said. "I hope you succeed. Now, go fetch it for me. I was told you were quite skilful. I put my hope in you. Good luck. Dismissed." He waved his hand at her. The guards grabbed her arms and led her away. Covar followed them.
They tossed her outside the castle, Covar catching her when she lost her footing. "You damned..." He slapped a hand over her mouth when the guards gave them warning looks over their shoulders.
"You don't argue with royal guards unless you want to experience death so soon in your life. Zeuli is one thing, they are another. The king is a bit mad," Covar said. "Keep calm. Otherwise, you'll die too soon." Necle sighed.
"Fine," she said.
"You'll be going tomorrow. Get ready," he said, pushing her back lightly so she would start walking. "You have half this day, and we'll try to get you on the road as soon as possible."
"Just how much did he pay?" she asked.
"A million," Covar replied.
"Which ones?" she asked.
"A million platinum coins," he said with a chuckle. "He paid half in advance, and if you succeed, he'll give the other half. If not, we can keep the first one anyway." Necle rolled her eyes.
"You sold your soul to the devil," she said.
"You're the one who came to this organisation," he said. "I'll find someone to send with you." She nodded and they continued to the PI headquarters, where they both lived, in silence.
"I fail to understand why you still are a part of PI," her employer spoke in a deep, rough voice, sounding like a god. His golden eyes stared at her, frowning ever so slightly, no wrinkles showing on his pale, but golden ageless face. She chuckled, spitting blood at his feet. It felt bitter in her mouth. Or was it sour? She licked her lips.
"Well, you keep on hiring me," she said, shrugging boldly. She shuddered. She could not define the pain. "They don't care about my manners. I do a good job, no?" Her employer laughed.
"Swell," he said. "Even better at getting beat up." His large lackey moved his wrist with an exceptionally fast movement, the thick whip forcing her to fall to her knees as it struck home at the back of them, scraping the skin, causing it to bleed. The pain numbed her, so she focused on it instead the split above her eye. His lackey had one hell of a fist. Her employer laughed. "No hard feelings. You know I love you. I would not hire you were you not close to my heart. You're the easiest to torture. No, not easiest. Toughest skin, you have, of all the girls."
"You disgusting sadist," she spat some more blood, this time the serving splattering all over his fine, polished shoes of a rich man. His face contorted as he stared at the slimy mixture. He crouched down and stared into her eyes.
"You're so young. It would be a waste to kill you. You're lucky," he said. "Your luck is inversely proportional to your intellect, I must say. It is disappointing, but cannot be changed. You're too reckless to live long in a world like this, with a profession like yours."
"Well, I guess this can only be my problem," she said.
"I have recommended you," he said, standing up and stepping backwards. He sighed. "It will be great profit if you succeed as I have promised the king." He laughed. It was a strange laugh, deep and almost devilish. She grimaced, then flinched as the split on her face moved and pained her. "Necle, you are to accept, of course. You must, of course. You are a PI, after all. You'd better do a damn good job." He spun on his heels and dashed off, the sound of painfully expensive shoes adorned with her saliva and blood echoing around her. She shuddered. As he left, she felt a large fist meet her face when the light flickered to its death, or perhaps it was only her seeing black with a flash of red.
***
She woke up on polished stone, much unlike the rough cold stone of Zeuli's personal dungeon. She remained in the position she was in. It was most likely much more comfortable than she would have felt had she tried to move.
"You awake?" It felt familiar. Sounded familiar. She opened her right eye. Her left one was right on the floor, the coldness somehow easing the pain of the split, even if it made it hurt more. She had never been able to have only one eye open if one was not pressed closed.
The person's face hovered over hers. It was PI Head, Covar. She snorted. She could not speak, really. She closed her eyes again, wanting to sleep again. A needle pierced her shoulder. She shrieked at the roughness of the action, pushing her torso up off the ground with her arms. Covar cursed, pulling the needle out. Necle shuddered and fell back to the ground. "Stay still." She felt something leave her skin. She wanted to vomit at the feeling. "Good. Let me try again." She felt a needle in her shoulder again an yelped, bit remained lying on the floor. She could feel something enter her blood system. She groaned and started shivering violently. It stopped soon enough, and all the pain faded away with it.
She pushed herself up again, taking in a deep breath. She moved around to settle in a sitting position with legs crossed. "What was that? It felt terrible."
"Something to heal you," he said. "Only I have access." He placed his hand on her shoulder. "You're fine now." She scratched her head and sighed.
"Where am I now?" she asked, turning her head to look at him. He was an old man, yet he was still the best in their profession.
"Throne room." Her head darted upward, seeing the king sitting in his throne in front of her.
"What a fine spot to dump an unconscious PI," she muttered.
"Welcome," the king said. He was a withered old man, scarred in his many battles, wrinkled from all his deep thoughts, hunched over from too much sitting as of late. "Would you be so kind to stand up? I won't even insist on kneeling and bowing." Necle opened her mouth to speak, but soon closed them. Covar ran a hand through his still thick, but grey hair, standing up and offering her his scarred hand with rough skin to pull her up. She took the offer, pulling herself up to her feet with his aid, feeling her feet wobbling before she regained full control. She stared at the king, waiting for him to speak. He heaved a sigh. His voice was not booming or terrifying; it was childish and high pitched. She must have had a deeper voice, even at her age of nineteen where she was still so young. However, he did not speak.
"Your Highness?" she started, raising an eyebrow. She coughed, the words as if choking her. Covar patted her back with his firm slaps and strong hand. She flinched and hit her fist against her chest, the coughing fit ending.
"Have you been told what I ask of you?" he asked. She shook her head. The king sighed, leaning his head to his hand, his elbow on the cushioned armrest. He rubbed his temples with thick fingers. "Have you heard of a war?" Necle shook her head again. "Well, now you have. I have been thinking of ending this Nordfam Alliance between our Zalvoe and that Teteq Kingdom. And how to end it? Well, we have many people of our nationality in their higher ranks, as you know." He paused. She nodded. He smiled and continued: "This will help us. Now, what I want is to have complete reign over them. I will call the meeting soon. My experience tells me a war will break out. Therefore, I require the Hairken Blade." Necle sighed.
"Whatever that is," she said. The king flinched.
"Why, of course, you most likely know no legends," he said. "Or, perhaps..." He sighed. "The Dragonwhisker sword?" She snapped her fingers.
"Oh, that. Hairken Blade?" she snorted. The king chuckled.
"Yes. I need it. With it, Teteq will fall easily," he said. "Now, the catch is... This blade is located underneath the royal castle of the kingdom, and they are aware of the location of the blade. I know about it because of them." He raised an eyebrow. "Go and fetch it for me. PI will be rich, and so will you."
"I suppose it's guarded," she said.
"Heavily," the king said. "I hope you succeed. Now, go fetch it for me. I was told you were quite skilful. I put my hope in you. Good luck. Dismissed." He waved his hand at her. The guards grabbed her arms and led her away. Covar followed them.
They tossed her outside the castle, Covar catching her when she lost her footing. "You damned..." He slapped a hand over her mouth when the guards gave them warning looks over their shoulders.
"You don't argue with royal guards unless you want to experience death so soon in your life. Zeuli is one thing, they are another. The king is a bit mad," Covar said. "Keep calm. Otherwise, you'll die too soon." Necle sighed.
"Fine," she said.
"You'll be going tomorrow. Get ready," he said, pushing her back lightly so she would start walking. "You have half this day, and we'll try to get you on the road as soon as possible."
"Just how much did he pay?" she asked.
"A million," Covar replied.
"Which ones?" she asked.
"A million platinum coins," he said with a chuckle. "He paid half in advance, and if you succeed, he'll give the other half. If not, we can keep the first one anyway." Necle rolled her eyes.
"You sold your soul to the devil," she said.
"You're the one who came to this organisation," he said. "I'll find someone to send with you." She nodded and they continued to the PI headquarters, where they both lived, in silence.