The Sixth School Book Ii Ch 004

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All Characters in the story are 18 years of age and above...

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Alrik stood on the roof of the two-story building, his gaze on the young boy, barely eight cycles in age riffling through the garbage behind the tavern across the street. His expression was one of calm detachment. Unlike what most would expect of someone who now lived in the upper district, there was no contempt for the boy either in his face or in his heart. After all, that had once been him. If not for the Governor taking pity on him and choosing to make use of him, he'd never have risen out of the crushing poverty that the lowest stratum of this city suffered. Alrik didn't hold any delusions that he was in any way special to his masters. He was a tool to be used and discarded as was convenient for them. More than once, the targets he'd been sent to kill had tried to tell him this, thinking it would change his mind.

Alrik's gaze moved to the three women, two older and one younger, along with the two young men beside them as they moved down the street several blocks from the building he currently stood on. His glance barely lasted a second before he turned his gaze back to the boy who was trying to suck the marrow out of a bone he'd found.

Of course, whenever any of his targets tried to convince him that he was just a tool being used, he'd just use even more cruel means to end them. The reason for his ire at this wasn't because he was in denial. Rather, it was the pure hypocrisy in the argument that caused rage to burn through him. What the fools didn't know was that there was a time when he wasn't a tool. A time when he was less than a tool, just like the boy across the road who was now futilely trying to gnaw at the bone. A stray dog barely clinging on to life. A dog that had given up on getting any love from society and was only hoping for scraps that would help him see another day. Where were they then? Where were they when he was so hungry that the rotting scraps behind a tavern brought a smile to his face? Where were they when he had curled up on a heap of garbage for want of a bed? Where were they when every time he went to sleep, he didn't know if he would wake up? Where were they when that thought actually brought him peace instead of dread?

His targets turned a corner and he was forced to shift positions. If anyone had been watching him at that moment, they would have seen his form get swallowed by shadows and vanish from the roof. Barely a second later, his form appeared on the roof of the next building. Alrik's form immediately vanished a second time as he moved from building to building. Having lived in Ethavel all his life, he knew it like the back of his hand. Despite them having taken the corner several blocks away, Alrik only had to move a few steps before he had his targets in his sights once more.

Now, just because he had chosen to make a tool out of him, didn't mean that the Governor had been kind. Of the thousand that were taken off the streets to be made into his tools, he was one of only ten who had made it to the end of the training. Those had been a grueling ten cycles of training that bordered on torture. To this day he still wondered how it was he made it through to the end. A weakling had been taken in by the Governor and in ten cycles, a deadly tool had come out. Alrik had served the Governor directly for twenty cycles before he was passed on to his son and heir, Deriel, who he'd now been serving for thirteen cycles.

Alrik once again jumped a few buildings over to keep his targets in sight.

His assignment had been to just follow the target and gather as much information about them as possible. But while he hadn't sanctioned any harm this time, Alrik recognized the dark look in his master's eyes. Every time he'd gotten that look, blood had almost always followed. The fact that the target had also been on the airship for the upper echelons of society was probably the only reason Alrik hadn't been directly asked to kill them. Deriel was no fool. Even the son of the Governor knew that there were people he couldn't afford to offend. Before they made any move, they needed to know who they were dealing with. If these people were untouchable, then Deriel would in all likelihood back off. If not, however, then the group wasn't long for this world.

"Move and you're dead!"

Alrik had already jumped off the building even before the icy female voice behind him got the words out. Of the thousand children that the Governor took in to train, only about fifty or so died from how harsh the training was or some accident in the course of training. The rest had died at the hands of another trainee. Every single day for ten cycles straight, Alrik had lived on the precipice, knowing that if he wasn't ruthless enough, that day would be his last. One thing he had painfully learned several times over, was that you never allowed your opponent to gain an advantage over you. And if they somehow did, you don't allow them to keep it!

That someone had managed to get so close to him without even the slightest trace told him that he was dealing with someone of equal if not superior skill to him. She could have easily ended his life without him even realizing what had just happened. The fact that she had begun by talking was all he needed to know that she'd want to interrogate him first before killing him. Alrik wasn't naïve enough to hope for mercy. The threat being made was his window! One thing he'd learned in those ten punishing cycles was that people who wanted to kill you didn't make threats. If they were competent killers, then they'd just do it. On the other hand, if they began by threatening you, then they'd unconsciously first want you to hear the threat before they did anything. After all, it was pointless to threaten a corpse. If you could act before the threat was delivered, then you had a small chance to get yourself out of a sticky situation!

Alrik's feet never touched the ground. He only allowed himself a second of falling to use the edge of the building to break line of sight before he dove into the shadows once more. His daggers were already in his hands when he emerged from his attacker's shadow, and unlike her, he didn't waste any time with words as he immediately stabbed at her kidneys. From his attacker's first words to this counterattack, barely three seconds had passed. Most people would have needed those three seconds just to process the threat behind them. Alrik didn't consider himself to be a vain person, but his ability to keep a cool head and quickly react in a critical situation had always been a point of pride for him. It was probably the answer to the question of how he'd managed to survive the ten grueling cycles of training he'd been subjected to. This is why it came as such a shock when his daggers stabbed air. His eyes went wide with shock and cold fear when he felt the sharp edge of a blade press against his throat.

"A slippery one aren't you?" The same female voice, now teasing, reached him from behind.

Alrik's body was swallowed by shadows. At the second tier, the time it took for this to happen was barely half a second. With the speed that his assailant had displayed, however, that might as well have been forever. Still, Alrik's cardinal rule remained. Don't allow your foe to gain any advantages over you. In his current position, he was already at her mercy. Rather than just standing there and letting her have her way, he'd take the chance however small, to get away. With her speed, his attacker could have easily slit his throat and stabbed him through the back ten times before he fully sank into the shadows. This was why he was both surprised and confused when he emerged from the shadows on the roof of the next building completely unharmed.

His gaze snapped back to the building he'd just escaped trying to figure out why his assailant had practically let him go. A cold sweat soaked his back, however, when he saw no one on the roof he'd just escaped. Alrik caught movement at the edge of his vision and immediately jumped to the side in a dodge roll expecting an attack. When he came up from the dodge roll, however, he found that the woman hadn't gone after him. Instead, she was standing at the same edge that he'd been standing at just a second ago. She had her hand lined up with her eyebrows as she pretended to shield her eyes from the sun and look in the direction of the roof they'd just been on.

Alrik had always thought of himself as disciplined, especially in life-and-death situations. To live as long as he had in a dangerous role as the one he occupied, you needed to keep a clear mind during the most dangerous of times. Split-second decisions could be the difference between seeing another day or ending up a corpse. This was why it came as such a shock to him when he caught himself letting his gaze roam over the woman's side profile. Like any other man out there, Alrik indulged in the pleasures of the flesh whenever the chance presented itself. That part of his brain, however, was promptly shut down when it came to his duties. In his role as bodyguard, the world shrank down to his mission and what he needed to do to complete it. Everything else was just a distraction. Man or woman, it didn't make any difference to him. He would kill either at a moment's notice if that's what he needed to do to succeed.

Yet, for some reason he couldn't fathom, Alrik couldn't fight the desire that welled up within him even as his eyes lingered on the woman's generous curves. She was dressed in a leather outfit that seemed to perfectly cling to her form as if the thing had been poured on her rather than worn. Alrik had seen beautiful women before. With them, however, he could compartmentalize. He could appreciate their beauty without letting it affect him. Something about this woman, however, seemed to snake past all his mental discipline and stoke a fire of desire within him that he couldn't put out despite the very real danger he was in. Alrik found himself having to painfully bite at his tongue to regain some semblance of mental clarity when she spoke. "I don't see anything," the woman commented in an overly chipper tone of voice. She then placed a finger on her bottom lip as if something had just occurred to her. "Wait, what were we looking for again?" She asked, turning to him with a smiling expression on her face.

Alrik couldn't help the ice that encased his heart as he suddenly understood what exactly he was dealing with.

She was a cat and he was the mouse. As the woman had now twice demonstrated, she could easily have ended his life had she wanted to. Both times that he'd gotten away, wasn't because of his reaction time, ability to keep calm in danger, or his affinity with shadows. Had she wanted to kill him, she could have done so both times. Even her sexual allure, Alrik suspected, was a trap. He couldn't be sure but he strongly suspected that she was perfectly aware of the effect she was having on him. Put simply, she was toying with him. Amusing herself with his struggles before she put an end to him. Everything within him was screaming at him to turn around and run away. The woman, however, had already proven that this was a pointless waste of time. Not only was she faster than him, but she could somehow escape detection right up until she wanted to be seen. Escaping right now was just exposing his back to her and who knows when she'd stop finding that amusing and just put a dagger in him. Small as it was, his only chance of surviving this was to take her head on.

"What do you want?" He questioned coldly even though she'd almost killed him twice. Showing fear in front of a predator was just asking for it to go for your throat. Despite his resolve to fight her head-on if he had to, Alrik decided to see if he could talk himself out of this situation first. One thing that life had taught him, both during his training and beyond, was that not every fight could be won. He had seen many fools refuse to give in when the odds were clearly against them. He could count on one hand the number that survived, half of whom were crippled for life. Hard as it was to swallow, the bitter truth was that sometimes, avoiding a fight was the best victory that you could hope for. If he could somehow get this woman to back off without having to take her on in a fight, he would have won this fight

The young woman smiled brightly. "My master wants to know why you are following them?" she asked.

Alrik almost turned to look in the direction where he'd last seen the group he'd been tracking. He, however, caught himself at the last second, knowing that doing so would negate his next statement. Schooling his expression carefully, Alrik did his best to just convey confusion. "What are you talking about? I'm not following anyone," he declared in a carefully neutral tone.

Alrik could almost feel the air around them growing colder as the smile that had been on the woman's lips slowly straightened. "Are you saying that my master is lying?" She asked in a deceptively calm tone of voice.

Alrik had once heard it said that when you've stared down death several times before, you develop an instinct for it. A sensation for when a certain choice would send you into the embrace of the hereafter. He'd never really given much credence to the theory, right up until this moment. Alrik could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as the certainty of his death if he said the wrong thing hit him. He didn't know if the woman had been brainwashed into believing her master was beyond reproach, or if she was just crazy. One thing was for certain though, if he impugned the honor of her master, she'd kill him. Pure and simple. "Okay, okay, my master ordered me to follow your group," he said, pretending to be miffed at being called out and using that to cover his fear.

The bright smile was back and all doubt that she was crazy left Alrik. "And what exactly is your master's interest in mine?" She asked sweetly.

"I don't know how it is with your master, but mine doesn't make a habit of explaining himself to me. He simply orders and I do," he stated. There was zero doubt in Alrik that Deriel wanted this woman's master in a lot of pain before he was finally granted the mercy of death. Telling that to the woman, however, would probably end with him a whole head shorter than he currently was so he obfuscated.

"Yeah, they can be annoying like that," the woman said in a surprisingly understanding tone of voice. "Tell you what, why don't you tell me your master's name and I'll address my questions directly to him," the woman followed up in a deceptively innocent tone of voice.

It's only the discipline he'd nurtured over the years that allowed him to keep a straight face and not smile. Much like a blade, one needed to know how to handle information such that they didn't harm themselves instead of their opponent. The woman before him had already demonstrated that she was skilled enough to take his life with barely any effort. Trying to threaten her would have been suicidal. Had he invoked the Governor's son before now, she could have easily taken it as a threat and chosen to kill him for it. Now that she had asked the question, however, he could simply answer and achieve the same result. He could intimidate her into backing down without having to forfeit his life.

"I serve Deriel, son and heir to the Governor," he declared evenly.

Alrik had been expecting any number of reactions from the young woman before him ranging from doubt of his claim, to fear if she believed him. What he hadn't expected was the anger that sparked in her eyes at his words. "That bitch Fate is meddling again!" It's only because of his sharp hearing that Alrik picked up on the words the woman murmured to herself. He, however, couldn't make heads or tails of it. His incomprehension, however, couldn't quell the rising sense of alarm he felt as all playfulness left the woman's expression. "My master has been in this city less than an hour!" She growled, this time loud enough to be heard easily. "Why in the abyss would the Governor's son be sending people after him? How does he even know of him?" She questioned her eyes narrowing.

Alrik had assumed that the woman knew the cause of this whole debacle. It was only now that he remembered that he hadn't seen this woman anywhere when the events on the deck of the airship took place. Given the fact that he had to bite the tip of his tongue whenever he wasn't talking just to keep from being taken in by her sexual allure, Alrik was certain he would have remembered her if she had been present. His first instinct in response to the question was to reiterate his ignorance as to what his master might be after. The sense of death that flared up the first time the woman lost her smile, was now blaring at him. This woman was no longer in a playful mood. If he didn't give her an answer, chances are that she'd go quiet and let her blades do the talking. "Actually, they met on the airship. My master was bringing his bride home..."

"And my master fucked her?" The woman questioned her head tilting to the side with a look of understanding as if the situation suddenly made sense.

For a moment, Alrik was left tongue-tied that this was the first thing that the guard came up with. The look of annoyance on her face when he didn't reply, however didn't allow him to ponder for long. After so many years of fighting and killing, Alrik would have sworn that he'd lost the ability to blush. He found that he was wrong when he was forced to correct the record. A part of him was tempted to remain quiet, knowing what the truth sounded like. However, if rumors that someone else had fucked Deriel's bride started to spread and it was found out that he could have stopped it and chose not to, then whatever remaining days he still had among the living would be full of excruciating pain. "Your master didn't touch my master's bride, he... he just looked at her longingly," he stated unable to help a slight moment of hesitation at the trivial act that was the genesis of this whole debacle.

His words were met with silence, the woman was clearly expecting something more from him. The longer he remained quiet, however, the more the look of curiosity on her face morphed into a flat unamused look. "Am I understanding you right? Your master sent you after my master simply because he looked at your master's woman?" She asked in a flat tone of voice.

Alrik knew that it was more because the young lady from the Sydrak clan had looked back with an equal amount of desire that had set off his master. Had this woman's master looked on with desire and gotten no response, then his master wouldn't have even noticed his existence. And if he had, then he would have just taken more pride in the fact that someone else was lusting after what he had. To have his woman look at another man the way the young lady from the Sydrak clan had been doing, was something he simply could not abide! Alrik, however, was cogent enough to realize that this wasn't that much better an explanation, so he wisely kept quiet lest he seemed like he was trying to justify his master's desire to go after her master.

"Tell me," the young woman spoke after a while of silence had passed. Alrik couldn't help but grip his blades even tighter as he noticed the way the tone of her voice hardened and sensed that things were about to come to a head. "Apart from the woman three buildings over to your left, is anyone else following you?" She asked.