Master of Puppets

They don't have a choice. I know they don't. I have what they need and they can't just take it from me. I'll admit, they're stronger than I had anticipated. If they acted together in earnest against me, I don't think I'd be able to survive it.

Even still, they're not so strong as to leave me defenceless to their whims. My life they could claim, but what would that profit them? As long as there's no absolute gulf in strength between us, my life is all they could take, and that's not what they're here for.

'I know what you want, and I'm the only way for you to get it', I say, looking at Solomon and Tabitha in turn. 'Considering what I'm offering you, I'm not even asking for much.' Forearm muscles tense beneath Solomon's shirt, leaving a momentary bulge, before settling back down.

To her credit, Tabitha's only show of dissatisfaction over the reversal of our natural station is an exhale a few too breaths too long and sharp.

It's not common for a nameless to be able to negotiate with a Clansman on even equal footing. For someone like me to have such an advantage over "my betters", I don't question them finding that difficult to swallow. It's a wonder they manage to restrain themselves at all.

A smile breaks on my lip; I can't stop it. Fighting all attempts at restraint, my smile refuses to be suppressed. Who could blame me though? To have these high-born bastards at my feet, to have them needing something I have. To have them, eyes down, tails between their legs, subdued… I can't lie and say my joy is exclusively due to the benefits they represent.

Anger flashes in both their eyes. I see it as clearly as the crescent moon above the thinning clouds. In less than a second, the soft drain of resignation siphons out the rage in their leer.

'How did you-',

'Does it matter?' I reply, cutting short Tabitha's inquisition. 'I've shown you what I can offer you. Why and how is no longer important. What matters now isn't why, but rather, whether. Whether you can put aside your pride and work under someone nameless, and whether you can see the other opportunity I represent'.

'Oh, and what other opportunities are these?' Solomon asks this time.

'Isn't it obvious? The opportunity to advance far faster than your peers.' At my words, both of my bondservants burst into crooked laughter.

'However things may work in the lower-set classes, we're in the upper-set.' Tabitha says. 'The path to rank-four is laid out in front of us. Risking our lives and taking on missions is only a distraction from our studies.'

'You have something we need', Solomon says. 'Don't pretend accompanying you on your excursions is for our benefit.' This time I laugh. I disguise none of my mockery or contempt.

'If you really believe what you said to be true, then you are fools.' Ignoring the look of anger and shock on their faces, I continue. 'How small are your ambitions that they can be sustained by one academy? Everything you're given here pales in comparison to the unfathomable resources that can be found in any floor of a Tower.'

I gaze into Solomon's eyes. Whether by instinct or decision, he looks to the ground and takes a step back.

'If I were just interested in academy resources, with what I have, could I not have extorted you for everything the academy gives you? Is there anything you would have retained from me?'

Not a word is spoken.

They know I'm right, it's impossible for them not to. While on the surface, the upper-set class seem to want for nothing, that is only true if what they want is mediocrity. With the information I had Rachel gather, the true condition of the upper-set class isn't hidden to me.

They're just as desperate to advance as we in the lower-set are. More so, perhaps. As the future rulers of their Clans, to have an advantage or disadvantage over their peers and competition recorded on official records, it could be the difference between peace and the annihilation of their Clans.

'How do we know we can trust you?' Tabitha asks, breaking the quiet of the abandoned streets. 'How do we know you'll do what you say once you no longer need us?' Lifting the flap from the opening of my satchel, I withdraw two sheets of parchment. Scanning quickly the writings on both, I hand the contracts to their respective contracting party.

'Feel free to read it over, I think you'll find the terms agreeable.' With no pockets to be seen on any part of the plain-white, buttoned shirt sporting an emerald crest, or the dark, knee-high skirt Tabitha is wearing, she folds the parchment and keeps it between her fingers and thumb as she lowers her arms to her side.

Solomon, on the other hand, scans every printed letter of the spirit pledge, all the while muttering its terms to himself.

'Take a few days to go over the terms. If there's anything you'd like to amend, we can discuss it after you've had the chance properly read through the spirit pledge.' At my words, Solomon lowers his arms and pockets the contract in his hand.

'There is something you should know.' Tabitha says. 'If you're thinking that forming a party with me would prevent the Yung Clan from acting against you, you are mistaken. My Clan might be a high-tier Clan, but I am from the beta branch of the Clan, essentially, I am no different from a mid-tier Clansman.

'If you're thinking that me being by your side is an end to your problems, you are mistaken. My position in my Clan is not so high that they would offend the Yung Clan for my sake.'

'No doubt you're aware that my Kas Clan is a mid-tier Clan itself.' Solomon says this time. 'The Yung Clan, associated as it is with one of the five ruling Clans… If you chose me because you think it would remove the price on your head, it won't.'

A gust of air surges behind me, blowing my raven-black hair from my neck to the peripheral of my vision. I allow the wind to carry the words I speak just shy of a whisper into the ears of my new allies.

'I chose you, both of you because I need people I can trust. As long as I have what you need, the price on my head is incomparable to the benefits you reap by keeping me alive.'

I hear them sigh, the wind tries to carry it away, but I hear it. I have them. There's no doubt about that. I have them. There could never have been any other result. The fact is, I came prepared and they did not. Every stage of this interaction was orchestrated by me. Every word, every glare, every gritted tooth and silent declaration of vengeance, every minute detail of this struggle was prepared from the moment I knew your names. How then could you possibly be my opponent?

'Can I assume we have a deal?' Staggered, as if he has to force himself, Solomon nods his head. Tabitha glances downwards before conceding also.

'When do we leave?' Solomon asks.

'Have you already selected a mission?' Tabitha adds.

'There are still a few preparations to be made. When I'm ready, I'll contact you.' With a grunt, his reply, Solomon walks away without another word, leaving me alone with the white-haired girl.

Cocking her head, Tabitha stands quiet as the soft thud of Solomon's steps fades into imperceptibility. Only after his last footstep goes silent does she reposition herself to face me. Her stare exuding a frozen rage, the girl trembles in my sight, almost as if in fierce battle with her own impulse to act.

'How do you know about my spirit chains?' Every word from her mouth carries the promise of violence. The assurance that if my answer is unsatisfactory, reason be damned, she will attack. My blood simmers in response. I suppress it. Now is not the time for meaningless conflict. Not when I'm so close to getting what I need.

'As you said, you're from the beta branch of a high-tier Clan. It's only common sense that the leading branch would take such measures to oppress the potential of their subordinates.' My words repel a portion of her icy fury, but a segment remains. Walking so that her mouth is next to my ear, the girl parts her lips, releasing a gentle pop as she does.

'I'll work with you, for now. Just know, one day, I'll pay you back for this humiliation.' Words spoken, the girl continues walking until she vanishes from my perception.

Pay me back? I'm looking forward to it…

***

With my party recruited, I'm closer now to my goal. It's true neither Tabitha nor Solomon alone can guarantee my safety from those who would hunt me down to gain the favour of the Yung Clan. They can, however, act as a deterrence to all but the most daring of assassins.

My thoughts come to a halt as I approach the lower-set accommodations. Though lacking the majesty of the upper-set buildings, the manor house, boasting dozens of identical self-contained dormitories, is not to be looked down upon. Unlocking the front door, I walk up the milky white carpeted staircase until I reach the third floor. Going down the hallway, I come to a thick, brown, wooden door. My door. I twist the doorknob. The sapphire badge affixed to my academy blazer releases a burst of light and the door opens.

Removing my blazer and unbuttoning the top button of my shirt, I toss the discarded item of clothing onto my bed. Reaching into my satchel, I remove the metallic flower I had purchased from that dolt, Ivy Bloom.

To think today would be a day for so much profit. Moving to my bed, I withdraw my trunk from underneath. Unsealing the box, I examine the hard-fought-for treasures within.

Fishing metals, rocks and powders from the chest, I reseal my belongings and make my way into the lab adjoining my sleeping quarters. While unimpressive by the standards one would expect from this academy, the lab has everything needed to craft potions, weapons, and anything else I have the materials to make.

The oval workshop hosts counters equipped with glass flasks, metal stands and clamps, a crucible, and a Bunsen burner connected by tube to a gas canister. A mortar and pestle rest on a cabinet at the side of the lab, and scales stand right next to them.

Every tool used for measuring, mixing and melting can be found in some form within my laboratory. Most crucially, however, the Omni-forge takes pride of place on the centre counter. Shaped like a bowl upside-down with a hole in the centre, wavy lines decorate the top half of the bronze receptacle, aiding the Omni-forge in ventilation. The lower half, also shaped like a bowl, has circular symbols and runes unique to this particular model engraved across its circumference.

Removing a leather-bound notebook from my shelf, I flick through the pages of writings, drawings and diagrams until I come to what I'm looking for.

"Spatial storage ring"

Gathering from around the room the prescribed ingredients not retrieved from my chest, I stand over a countertop and get to work. Crushing herbs into pastes and boiling them with powders and liquids, I produce a purple fluid in a boiling flask. Taking the metallic rose, the Dryad's heart, from the table, I twist the petals from the stem and drop them into the purple solution. They dissolve on contact with the liquid.

Reviewing my notes, I compare the consistency prescribed with the consistency produced. They're identical. I take the purple liquid to the centre table. From my notebook, I copy out a formula in chalk between the lines of a circle within a circle carved into the counter supporting the Omni-forge. Satisfied the formula is balanced, I place the metals and stones I had withdrawn from my trunk into the inner circle.

Lifting the lid from my Omni-forge, I place a piece of coal onto the ringed pedestal within. Lighting the coal with a match, I seal the bowl and stand back. The patterns engraved onto the bottom part of the Omni-forge glow blue releasing a resplendent light into the otherwise gloomy lab. Silvery mist escapes the ventilation of the forge.

The formula drawn between the lines of the circles next to the Omni-forge begins to light up one rune at a time as if signalling a countdown. When half the runes are glowing, I pour the purple fluid into the inner circle. It never touches the counter.

Suspended over the two rings etched into the tabletop, the purple fluid shifts and squirms in a spectacle of alchemy. The metals and stones within the circles liquefy and join the purple fluid above, mixing slivers and blacks, and greys, and reds into the hovering extravaganza. As if freezing, the floating liquid solidifies from its outer parts.

Compressed from without, the orb of solidifying fluid shrinks and hardens. The process of shrinking is repeated over and over until all that's left of the liquid is a small, purple ring of semi-fluid matter.

Time tempers the semi-liquid ring until it is fully solid. The Omni-forge lights go dim, and the purple ring I forged is subject to gravity once more. With a satisfying cling, the violet band drops to the table. I take it into my hands.

It's a success...

The spatial storage ring is a success.