Light streamed through the window, stirring Strix awake. Morning already. He sat up and leaned over to plant a kiss on Acheron's forehead, but he realized the man wasn't in bed. He was sitting in a chair nearby, armor on, eyes staring into empty space. Keeping an eye out, as usual. Why couldn't he do that from the comfort of the sheets?
"Morning," he said, giving Acheron a smile.
"Morning," Acheron replied, staring straight ahead.
"You're up early."
"Couldn't get to sleep. Too much movement downstairs."
"Well, next time we'll find a quieter inn."
Strix pulled himself out of bed and walked over to Acheron, draping the sheets over his shoulders.
"See anything good?" he asked.
"Nothing in particular. A lot of customers coming and going."
"And no Praetorium warrior-monks in sight, I take it?"
"No," Acheron muttered, somewhat reluctantly. He almost sounded disappointed. "But that doesn't mean we can relax."
"Did you forget where we are? This is Spessia. They're not going to follow us all the way out here."
"I sure hope not. I just—"
"No," Strix said, cutting him off. "I'm tired of all this negativity. The Praetorium won't suddenly pop up if we take a day to ourselves. Let's slow down, take our time, eat a hot breakfast for once."
"That does sound appealing," Acheron admitted. "The special this morning looks particularly appetizing."
"What is it?"
"Not sure, but there's a large quantity of eggs and toast involved."
"Sounds perfect." Strix passed the sheets to Acheron and stepped over to the bathroom. "I hope you don't mind that I'm taking the first shower."
"I, uh…" Acheron glanced back at him and immediately glanced away when he noticed Strix wasn't wearing any clothes. It was a little disappointing. Of course he hadn't been looking in the room until now. He only bothered to use his real vision when he got embarrassed about something.
"Oh, come on," Strix said. "It's not like you haven't seen me naked before."
"It's not that," Acheron said, entirely unconvincingly. He was adorable when he got flustered like this. They'd been together nearly a year, been with each other on countless nights during their travels, and still he couldn't wrap his head around seeing Strix nude.
"Then what is it?"
"I already showered, actually. Sorry. Hopefully there's still some hot water left."
"It's an inn," Strix said. "They'll have water for more than one shower."
"Right. Of course." Acheron turned back and resumed staring at nothing. "I'll give you your privacy."
"You know it doesn't bother me, right?"
"It bothers me," he said. "Watching a person during moments like this just feels invasive, and—"
He cut himself off. They'd had this argument before, and it hadn't gone anywhere then either. No point in hashing it out again. Strix needed to respect Acheron's boundaries, but truth be told, he liked knowing someone was watching over him. The world was a lot scarier when he had to face it alone.
"Sorry," he muttered. "I love you."
"I love you too," Acheron said. "I'm not going anywhere."
"I know. I'll be out soon."
Strix slipped into the bathroom and got the water running. Acheron was right that there wasn't much hot water left, but he'd make do. It wasn't as if keeping clean was terribly difficult, given his element. He could get most of the dirt and grime off with a wave of his hands. But there was always enough exotic stuff he couldn't control, so soap and water were still necessary.
And it was important to act normal, even in private. Especially in private. It wasn't as if the Praetorium's inquisitors had much in the way of discretion, when it came to intruding on people's privacy.
He was in and out of the shower as quickly as possible, acutely aware of every second that passed while Acheron wasn't watching. It helped that he was inside, where no one else could see him, in a remote inn in the Spessian outback, and that Acheron was guarding the door. But it was still unnerving. Like a magister might burst into the room at any moment and drag him away for another series of injections.
Fortunately, he managed to get through the shower without incident. Looking in the mirror as he toweled off, though, he was surprised how long his hair was getting. The unkempt mess was probably long enough to put up in a bun or something by now. He might need to cut it before they left town, to throw off any witness descriptions. But, on the other hand, the unkempt dustbagger look was something a lot of people had around these parts. It might help them blend in.
"What do you think about my hair?" he asked as he came back into the room.
"What about it?" Acheron asked.
"Do you think it stands out too much? I was thinking maybe I should cut it, but I don't know what'll be less conspicuous."
"I think you should keep it." Acheron turned around and looked him over with his real eyes. "It looks good. And it's not like I've been paying a great deal of attention to my looks either." He motioned up to his hair. As far as Strix could tell, it still looked relatively well kept, but that was probably because his hadn't grown nearly so long.
"I'll keep it, then." Strix popped open the trunk and began slipping his armor on. It was in dire need of a cleaning, but out in the wastes, that was something to expect too. The fine layer of dust that settled over everything was impossible to escape. To complete the look, he wrapped bandages around his face, covering his mouth and nose in cloth. Now, they were practically indistinguishable from a pair of local vagrants.
"Time for breakfast?" Strix asked. Acheron nodded and stood up.
"Time for breakfast," he said. "Hot meal, here we come."
The two gathered what little they'd brought with them and headed out, going down the stairs and into the inn's common area. It was early, but a few of the other guests were awake. Many had already been served food.
The innkeeper eyed them warily as they found seats away from the breakfast crowd. That wasn't unexpected in this part of Spessia. The harsh environment attracted a lot of people who didn't fit in anywhere else, so it'd be strange if they didn't draw a few uneasy glares. But as they sat down, that's exactly what bothered him. Other than the innkeeper and his staff, no one in the common area paid their arrival any heed. More than a dozen dustbaggers and mercenaries, and none of them bothered to assess the new arrivals. Odd.
There was one pair who noticed them, however. Two hooded figures sitting in the corner, secluded like them. One of them kept tabs on Strix and Acheron as they sat down, not taking her eyes off them. She had pale skin and long white hair, and he could see the glow of a Core Crystal beneath her cloak. A Driver and Blade pair, by the looks of them, though the other had their back turned, so he couldn't be sure. A pair with cause to keep tabs on their surroundings, at least, but the degree to which she focused on Strix felt… Unnerving. If the others weren't paying enough attention, then she was paying too much.
"Innkeep!" Acheron shouted, shaking Strix out of his thoughts. "Two of whatever's good!"
"Coming!" the innkeeper shouted back.
"This feels wrong," Strix muttered. "You said you've been watching all night, right?"
"I haven't stopped watching the inn since we got here," Acheron replied. "Most of the guests arrived before us."
"What about the pair in the corner?"
"They got in this morning. Probably an hour ago? Stopped by to order food, I think. They've mostly kept to themselves."
"Get a good look at their faces?"
"The brown-haired one's wearing a mask, but she's not armed. She's got a resonance, though, and her companion's a Blade, so I figure they're mercenaries."
"I'd figured something similar, but it doesn't feel right." Strix risked a glance back at them, and the pale woman was still staring him down. "She won't stop glaring at me. You can't tell me I'm that interesting."
"Well, I can," Acheron said. "But I'm biased. Probably she can feel your resonance too, knows you're a Blade and that you're hiding it."
"It still doesn't feel right. Something's…"
He knew he was probably being paranoid. It'd been weeks since they'd seen anyone from the Praetorium, since before they came to Spessia even. But he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. That they'd found a way around Acheron somehow, and they were going to attack at any moment. But he held his breath, and nothing happened.
"Wrong?" Acheron asked. Strix nodded slowly. Acheron nodded back. "I'll keep an eye on them. If you see or feel anything else out of the ordinary, let me know."
"Thanks," Strix said. It didn't put him at ease, exactly, but it did make him feel better.
"We can move again," Acheron offered.
"I figured that was already the plan."
"Yeah, but we can move now, if you want. Skip town and look for somewhere else to lay low."
"What, and miss breakfast? Not a chance." Strix smiled, forcing it a little. Acheron could probably tell, but still, he didn't want to appear too alarmed. "I'll manage, don't worry."
Acheron returned the smile, eyes refocusing back on him for a moment. "You know that's impossible."
"Well, I guess that makes two of us."
"It's—" Acheron stopped as soon as he started, eyes flickering in place slightly. Switching his sight between locations rapidly. Something had caught his attention.
"What?" Strix whispered.
"Several of the guests are armed. One's got a Praetorium-issue staff. He's upstairs, unwrapping it from a bundle now."
"Shit," Strix muttered. Praetorium soldiers? Out here? How had they tracked them down?
"Don't panic," Acheron said. "He's not Indoline, and… Nothing else seems out of place. Could be he just scavenged it or took it off a monk he killed."
"Spessia and Indol haven't been at war for years, Acheron. Who'd still be carrying around an old war trophy like that?"
"It's definitely suspicious…" Acheron turned his head a fraction, looking at the pair in the corner. They hadn't moved. "But it looks like he's just unpacking."
It wasn't any great comfort to Strix. Even if the Praetorium weren't after them, being in this inn was still too stressful. It felt like any moment the walls were going to collapse around them.
"We should leave," he said.
"I think—" Acheron stopped as a waitress came up to their table. She was carrying two large plates of food, piled high with eggs and toast and a host of other appetizing delights. But Strix had pretty much lost his appetite, by this point. And he couldn't help but notice the woman's hands were shaking as she set the plates down. Like the woman in the corner, she couldn't stop staring at them.
"We should leave," Strix said again.
"Right." Acheron stood up and unhooked a pouch from his belt. He counted out a few coins and passed them to the waitress. "Sorry we can't stay for breakfast. Give my regards to the chef."
As they headed for the door, the women in the corner stood, and immediately Strix manifested his hook. Acheron did the same, casually forming the spear on his back. They were good enough to fight their way out. And Strix half expected the pale woman to rush them as they headed for the door. She didn't. Instead, just as Acheron reached for the handle, he stopped.
"Down!" he shouted, shoving Strix back. There was a flash of green light, and it washed over him, forcing Acheron to the ground. Strix turned to see the pale woman's partner manifest a crosier and hoist it high. He didn't need to see her face to know who had come after them now. The Goddess of the Praetorium.
Immediately, Strix reached deep into the flesh of Spessia, calling on all the ether he could muster. Before the Goddess could turn her staff on him, he shot a series of spikes up through the inn's wooden floor, trying both to impale her and erect a wall between them. Hopefully, it would buy them a few seconds, but they needed to move fast.
As he grabbed Acheron, however, the pale woman leapt over the spikes and manifested a pair of fans. She swung them down as she landed, sending a black cloud spewing out across the ground. Strix tried to erect a wall to stop it, but it simply flowed across whatever it touched. Right before it reached them, Acheron managed to snap his fingers, producing a burst of light that drove the darkness away for the moment.
"Move," Acheron grunted, managing to get to his feet with some help from Strix. The two stumbled out the door, and he could hear people in the inn scrambling to come after them. He glanced back to see the various guests, dustbaggers and mercenaries and normal-looking folks alike, all brandishing weapons.
This had all been a Praetorium setup, right from the start. How had they gotten this many disparate Spessians to cooperate? How had they figured out the limits of Acheron's sight? A thousand questions raced through Strix's mind in an instant, and he pushed them all down just as quickly. Their first priority was getting to safety. There was no way they could fight the Goddess head-on, not like this. They might have been powerful Flesh Eaters, but at the end of the day, they were still Blades. If she caught them, they were as good as dead.
As they ran, Strix stirred the earth and sand up behind them. There was very little water to work with out here in the wastes, so he couldn't make mud, but he could break the ground up until it was too loose to walk on. It'd slow their pursuers all the same.
A burst of darkness shot over his shoulder as they ran, more concentrated than the last. It spread out across their path slower, but the void and darkness within was amplified a hundred times. Rather than snap, Acheron slung his spear off his back. With a jab and a burst of light, the darkness recoiled, and another managed to cut them a path through.
"More incoming," he muttered. Hopefully he was regaining some of his strength, now that they'd put the Goddess behind them.
"How many?" Strix asked.
"Too many. We're surrounded."
"Surrounded?"
"They were lurking outside my range. Two dozen warrior monks, a squadron of star-riders, and a sentinel. All closing in fast."
"They really pulled out all the stops," Strix said. The Praetorium wanted them bad. Bad enough to risk a diplomatic incident with Spessia, apparently. And as terrifying as that was, as dire as the situation seemed, he preferred it to the endless waiting. At least when the Praetorium was attacking he had a form he could put to the nebulous fear that was always weighing him down. That alone made it much easier to deal with. Now all they had to do was kill a few warrior monks.
The riders caught up to them first. A squadron of flying Titans, all chosen specifically for their resemblance to Indol. They came cresting over Spessia's spinal ridge and flew straight for them, gathering ether to unleash in a rain of fire and lightning. If they didn't take cover, they'd be burned alive. But out here in the wastes, there was no cover. Just flats and dust as far as the eye could see.
Still, there was a reason they'd fled to Spessia. Not only did the nation harbor no love for the Praetorium, but the wastes gave Strix access to Titanpeds of ground unimpeded by plants or man-made structures. With a bit of effort, he could make drastic changes to the landscape.
As the star-riders began their assault, he tore a crack in the ground. It expanded into a fissure, and he and Acheron dove in head-first. The ground snapped shut above them just before the first ether blasts found their mark. For the moment, they were safe, but it wouldn't stay that way. The blasts began shaking the ground around them, and cracks opened where Strix had hastily sealed the fissure closed.
Still, it bought them a few seconds, and a few seconds was all they needed. They moved, running forward a dozen peds before bursting out of the ground again. The star-riders adjusted course, but Acheron moved faster. He hurled his spear, casting out a blast of light that swept across the wastes. For a moment, everyone but him was blind, and in that moment the spear found its target. One of the stars fell, wing sheared off at the base by the force of the throw. As it spiraled, it crashed into one of its companions, leaving only three in the sky.
Strix began forming tendrils even before his vision returned, drawing up the surrounding rock into a series of appendages. Normally, with enough pliable earth on hand, he could fully manipulate the tendrils as an extension of his body. But the ground here was too dry. As he whipped them forward, they broke under their own weight, creating a shower of smaller rocks and dust. He directed the shower at the star-riders as best he could, but it didn't have the same effect.
Acheron was here, though. This was why they'd initially begun travelling together. It was always safer with someone to cover your weaknesses. Acheron unleashed another blast of light as they took cover, throwing the star-riders off balance. They'd need to circle back around before taking more shots.
As they ran, Strix took the opportunity to start tearing the ground up around them again. Creating fissures to halt their pursuers and tearing up chunks ahead to give them cover from the star-riders' ether fire. But he could already see the shadow ether of their pursuers engulfing the landscape behind them, and there was very little he could do against that.
"The sentinel's coming," Acheron said. "Cut left."
Immediately Strix changed course, cutting left and throwing out a large swathe of fissures to keep their pursuers from gaining ground. A moment later, the sentinel came into view, charging straight for where they'd been heading. It was slightly smaller than a star, but the firepower it carried more than made up for it. Two sets of shoulder-mounted cannons unleashed a rain of pure, white-hot ether at them. Strix raised shields of stone to block it, but they didn't last long. And then the second volley hit.
"Cut right!" Acheron shouted, pivoting sharply toward the sentinel to avoid the incoming fire. Strix didn't know what he had in mind, but he'd just have to trust him. They ran for the sentinel head-on, and Acheron unleashed a blast of light again. But they seemed prepared, because the monks barely flinched as they adjusted the cannons.
Before they could fire, Strix jumped forward, digging his fist into the ground and drawing all his ether back. Instead of spreading it throughout the environment, he shot it all forward at once, cutting the flats in half. Just before the crack reached the sentinel, he forked it, sinking the Titan's front claws into the ground. It panicked, trying and failing to free itself, and one of the cannons misfired in the chaos. The blast tore a chunk out of the beast's leg, and Acheron immediately manifested another spear, hurling it for the creature's head.
The weapon struck the sentinel with a wet thunk, audible even from how far away they were. It didn't even have time to cry out. A small mercy, but it was the best they could offer. Once a Titan fell into the Praetorium's grasp, there wasn't much else they could do for it. So long as they wanted to stay alive anyway.
"How we doing?" Strix asked, glancing over just in time to see more ether wrap around Acheron's body. He couldn't see the Goddess, but she had to be nearby.
"Move," Acheron grunted. Strix grabbed him and started running again, trying to gain as much distance as possible. But it was hard to manipulate the ether without his hands free. He barely made it to the sentinel's corpse as the twisting shadows began to coil in around them.
Acheron unleashed more light, but it only forced the darkness back momentarily. Strix tried to concentrate ether around his feet, pulling up pillars of rock behind him to stop its advance. But it didn't matter. The ice-cold grip of the shadows engulfed his foot and pulled him off balance. The two of them fell, tumbling over each other and coming to rest against the sentinel's corpse.
Strix sprang up, hooks drawn and ready to fight, but the moment he rushed forward, the ether around them parted. He could see the Goddess standing there, crosier raised, and ether began to bind in from all around him. He tried to move, but his body suddenly felt heavier than lead. It collapsed, with no input from him, and he could barely manage enough ether output to throw a wall up around Acheron.
"You two certainly put up a fight," the white-haired woman said. With one wave of her fans, a tendril of darkness slashed through Strix's shield, and in response, Acheron fired a blast of light at her, briefly dispersing all the ether in the area, including the Goddesses. For the moment, Strix was free to run. Or at least to try.
"Go!" Acheron shouted. But Strix couldn't. If he ran now, he might have stood a shot at escaping. But it would hardly mean anything without Acheron there with him. Strix loved him too damn much to abandon him here.
Instead, he lunged at the Goddess, tossing one hook aside. If he could get his hands on her before she resumed her control, then they stood a fighting chance. Fortunately, she didn't look like much of a fighter. She'd been looking in the direction of the blast when it hit, and she was still disoriented. Strix reared back his hand and—
Something struck him in the gut, sending him flying back into the sentinel. The white-haired woman, brandishing her fans. She charged at him, and he swung, catching one of her weapons with his hook and driving it into the ground. He raised a spike of earth into her face before she could recover, and immediately he ran for the Goddess again. Just before he could reach her, however, she swung her crosier down, catching him on the forehead.
Ether spewed out from it, wrapping around him and arresting his movements. It wasn't perfect, but he was sluggish enough that she had ample time to get clear before he could get to her. As he collapsed to his knees again, the white-haired woman got back to her feet, and the rest of the monks closed in. They were surrounded.
"Don't bother," the white-haired woman said. "Praetor Amalthus told us everything about the pair of you. There isn't a trick up your sleeves we don't know about."
"Fuck you," Strix spat. It was really the only thing he could think of to say. The rest of him was too busy trying to figure out how to get free.
"Such hostility. Not that I'd expect much else from a Cannibal."
"You tried to kill us," Acheron noted. "I'd say the hostility is warranted."
"Your existence is an affront to the Architect himself," the Goddess said. "It is unfortunate we must resort to such violence, but you cannot be permitted to live."
"I never asked for this," Strix said. "I didn't even have a choice. It was eat or die."
"It was death either way," the white-haired woman said. "At least you could have chosen to die with dignity."
"Jibril," the Goddess said. "Let us proceed, please. There is no need to draw out their suffering any longer."
"Right." The white-haired woman nodded, stepping over to Acheron. She placed her fans against his core. Desperately, Strix was trying to gather enough ether to free one of them, but the Goddess's power was too strong.
"Strix," Acheron said, looking him in the eyes. Actually looking. "I love you."
The white-haired woman drove her fans into his core, splitting it apart. Strix screamed, desperately trying to break free, but he could only manage a few small bursts. As the woman turned on him, however, the ground began to shake. Spikes of earth shot up all around them, interrupting the Goddess's control. Immediately Strix lunged at her and slammed a fist into her core.
One of the reasons Flesh Eaters were so feared was their unpredictability. Consuming human flesh manifested all manner of side-effects. The lucky ones got new or enhanced powers out of the deal. Strix was almost lucky in that regard, but the costs had been much higher than they'd been for Acheron. Whenever he made contact with another Blade's core, he could read and temporarily copy their data, but it made his body unstable. He'd never tried it on someone as powerful as the Goddess before, but right now he didn't have a choice.
Her core's data flooded into him, and he could tell she was like him. Able to read information from other Blades. But her power was so much more than his. She could tap into and change that data on a whim. It was remarkable she showed as much restraint as she did. But whether it was arrogance or ignorance, she'd not been as heavy-handed as she could have, and that was going to cost her dearly.
Strix slammed her into the ground, keeping her pinned while he worked. His power could only function so long as they were in contact, so he only had one shot to make this work. He grew spikes of stone to bind the white-haired woman and keep the monks back, but otherwise his focus was on Acheron. With the Goddess's power, he stood a chance of saving his beloved.
The moment he touched Acheron's body, however, his heart sank. The core was already shattered, and interference from the flesh made it impossible to parse what was left. Desperately, he tried to scrape information together, but it was of no use.
He started to cry. It wasn't the time or place for it, but he didn't really care. If Acheron was gone, then whether he lived or died didn't much matter anymore. So he sat and cried and mourned the death of the only person who'd ever really loved him. The only person he'd ever really loved in turn.
"I am sorry," the Goddess muttered. He realized she was crying too. "I wish it did not have to be this way."
"It doesn't," he said. For a moment, he thought about crushing her core, but he'd probably still need her power to get out of here. Even if he didn't care about his own life, he still cared about Acheron. And Acheron would have wanted him to live. But he couldn't survive on his own. He'd need Acheron's eyes.
With the Goddess's power, he began to unmake Acheron's body, pulling the flesh and bits of broken core into his own. It tore at his own flesh, and he could feel himself begin to fall apart as the process took hold, but he didn't stop. Not until he could see Acheron's sight align with his own. Feel Acheron's arms wrapped around him.
By the time he stopped, most of his skin was gone. Reduced into a black, oozing substance. It was painful, but he could bear pain. So long as Acheron was with him, at least. All that was left was to kill the Goddess and leave this place.
Before he could muster the ether, however, he felt her break free of his control. She grabbed her crosier and manifested new chains of ether, binding Strix where he knelt.
"Jibril," she said, a note of panic creeping into her voice. "Hurry."
"Yes, Your Holiness," the white-haired woman said. She worked herself free and stepped over to Strix, but before she could move to strike him, the ground shook again. Only this time, Strix could see the culprit. He tracked the waves of ether back to their source. A lone figure on the ridge, standing several peds taller than anyone he'd ever seen before. The man was covered in armor-like scales, and his Core Crystal was infused with pitch-black flesh.
He raised spikes all around them, separating Strix from the Goddess and her partner. And immediately, Strix broke open a fissure in the ground. Before the Praetorium forces could follow him, he closed it and began moving. Digging through rock and stone as fast as he could, desperate to put as much distance between himself and the Praetorium as possible.
Whoever that stranger was had saved his life. And he was going to do his best to live for Acheron too. No matter what, he wasn't going to let himself make the same mistakes. He was going to be vigilant. Always.
Strix watched them for about an hour before deciding they were who they appeared to be. Which was hard to believe. A pair of Spessians lugging a briefcase into the Ardainian wastes three weeks after the Osirian Treaty was signed? Obviously a trap. But they'd been in his vicinity for over an hour, and they hadn't moved much. The old man checked his watch a few times, and the kid was smoking up a storm—pretty bad habit to have at his age—but otherwise they'd just stood there. And there wasn't anything else out here they could be after. Eventually, Strix decided to see what they wanted.
Just to put the fear of the Architect in them, though, he drew one of Acheron's spears and threw it at them. It landed at their feet, right between them, and the kid nearly jumped out of his skin. Dropped his cigarette and everything. But the old man barely reacted at all. He simply tracked the spear's arc to the top of the cliff, where Strix was hiding.
"If you're going to kill us," he said, "I'd suggest you get it over with quickly. I've got places to be after this."
Jackass. The ones that couldn't or wouldn't be intimidated were always such a pain to deal with. Judging by how little surprise he'd shown, he was either a psychopath or a career politician. Not that there was much difference. But they weren't with the Praetorium, at least, so he'd see what they wanted.
He jumped, sailing over the cliff and landing in front of the men. Before either of them could speak, he grabbed the spear and flicked it up, pressing it against the old man's chin.
"What do you want?" he asked. The old man sighed.
"My name is Navaris Coreial, Chief of Staff for former President Kimar. Or, I suppose I'm ex-Chief of Staff, now. This is my associate, Saur."
"Hey," the kid said, lighting up another cigarette. His shock had faded quickly, now that Strix had revealed himself. The kid seemed almost disappointed. But he didn't really care what these jobbers thought of him.
"Not the question I asked," he said.
"You'll have to excuse me, then," the old man said. "As my age catches up with me, I tend to take longer to get to the point. You'll understand someday."
"Will he?" the kid asked. "Isn't he, like, three hundred years old?"
"Answer. The question." Strix tapped the spear against the man's chin again. "I won't ask again."
"Fine," the old man sighed. "We need you to retrieve some information for us."
"If you're able to find me out here, then you're probably better at that than I am."
"No shit," the kid said. "At least someone appreciates my skills."
The old man turned to him and smiled. "We're all very grateful for the work you've done, Saur. But this man and I have business to discuss. Please refrain from making unnecessary comments."
"Leave the kid be," Strix said. "I trust him a lot more than I trust you."
"And why might that be?"
"Because if he's really the one who found me out here, and he didn't go to the Praetorium with that information, then I can be pretty sure he's not trying to kill me. You, on the other hand? I'm still trying to figure you out. Why is it I have to find this information for you when your 'associate' seems a lot more fit for purpose?"
"We don't need you to find anything. We already have the object in question. But retrieving the information inside has proven somewhat more difficult than anticipated."
The old man held out his briefcase and opened it, revealing a man's severed head. Ardainian, middle-aged, and judging by the state of his teeth, rather well-off. And it had been painstakingly preserved. Even by Strix's standards, this was pretty fucked up.
"Alright, what the fuck?" He lowered his spear and took a step back. "You do realize that's a guy's head, right?"
"Yes, it's unfortunate. We would have much preferred the rest of him to survive the delivery, but a Praetorium legatus interfered. I'm sure you can sympathize."
"I… I guess? But that's not the point. It's a dude's head. Like, a dead guy's head. You came all this way out here, to the least hospitable place in Alrest, looking for me, a Flesh Eater, so you could show me some dead guy's head? This better start making sense, and soon."
"He has knowledge we are in dire need of, mister Strix. Information only you can access, now that he's passed. Believe me, I didn't want to bother you either, but we tried approaching the Sthenosi Crones with the problem, and they told us they couldn't help. So you're our last option."
"You think I can read his mind or something?"
"I'm…" the older man frowned. "I was assured you had the capabilities we required. The only reason we didn't approach you sooner was because you've been difficult to pin down."
"Well I'm not a psychic, if that's what you're thinking. And he's dead anyway. How am I supposed to get anything from a dead guy?"
"Can't you read shit?" the kid asked. Strix turned to stare at him. Well, not actually, he was watching them both from a slightly pulled back viewpoint, but he made the head motion. It was good to keep up appearances like that.
"What's that mean?"
"I don't fucking know!" the kid protested. "It's what the boss said! We ran out of options, so he suggested we come find you. Said you owed him a favor from way back when."
"I…" Strix thought back. He basically made it a rule never to interact with anyone ever, so he didn't know who he was supposed to owe a favor to. But if it was from a long time ago, then… That guy. He was Spessian too.
"Is your boss tall?" Strix asked. "About yea big, covered in big gray plates? Black-speckled Core Crystal?"
"You do remember," the old man said. "He assured us you would. Can you help us?"
"Well… I do owe him, so I'll give it a shot, but I've only ever tried this on Blades before. So don't blame me if it doesn't work."
He reached out and placed a hand on the dead man's forehead. And for a while, he couldn't feel anything. But just as he was about to give up, he noticed a small blip. A faint spark of information. And as he focused on it, he could feel more information coming to the surface. Apparently, a dead person's brain was not unlike an inert Core Crystal. Once they stopped forming connections, both were basically just networks of electrodes.
"What is it you need?" he asked. The old man's face lit up, and he betrayed a faint smile.
"Designs," he said. "Schematics. Blueprints. Anything like that. He was supposed to build a device for us before he passed, and we'd very much like to continue his work."
"I'll see what I can find," Strix said. It took him a while to sift through all the memories in the man's head, and some were pretty patchy. Probably on account of being dead. But eventually he found them. A set of schematics. He called the memory of writing them out to the surface.
"You guys got paper?" he asked. A rhetorical question, he could see it inside the kid's jacket, but it didn't hurt to ask. Best not to let on exactly how much he could see, just in case.
"Yeah," the kid said, producing a binder of papers. A moment later, he gave Strix a pencil, and Strix got to writing. Reproducing every stroke he could pull out of the memories until he had a replica of what was inside the man's head.
"I doubt it's perfect," he said, handing the schematics back to the kid. "Memories aren't stored precisely, and there's a lot of damage in there. Probably on account of him being dead and all. But it's as good as you're going to get."
"It's more than we had an hour ago," the old man said. He closed up the briefcase and checked his watch. "That took longer than I would have liked, but given these results, I can't complain. Thank you for your time, mister Strix."
"I hope it goes without saying that if I see either of you back here again, I'm going to kill you."
"Yeah," the kid said, lighting up another cigarette. "That about figures. Don't worry, you're not that interesting. Even for a Flesh Eater."
"Like you know any others," Strix scoffed. A moment later, he remembered that their boss was a Flesh Eater too. Ah well, the point still stood. One individual hardly gave a good picture of what they were like as a whole.
"We'll respect your privacy," the old man said. "It's the least we can do after what you just did for us."
He and the kid turned to go.
"Wait," Strix said. "Before you leave… How did your boss know I could help? That isn't an ability I advertise."
That was understating things a little. Aside from the Goddess of the Praetorium, no one alive should have known what he was really capable of. And she didn't strike him as the type to share her secrets with a Flesh Eater.
"He didn't say," the older man said. "I try not to pry. But I can tell you that he has a good sense for these things. He always knows who to go to when faced with a problem such as ours. You might call it a gift. We wouldn't have come this far without him."
"Right…" Strix couldn't help but frown at that. Their boss couldn't have the ability to just know things, otherwise they wouldn't have needed Strix's help. So what was going on? He'd have to look into that on his own.
And he'd have to move locations soon. If someone like this kid managed to track him down, no matter how good he was, then it was time to pack up shop again.
"You have fifteen minutes to leave the wastes before I kill you," he said. Before they could respond, he opened the ground beneath himself and sank in, disappearing from sight. They didn't waste any time leaving once he was gone. He watched them until they made it to the edge of his vision, just to be sure, but they didn't do anything suspicious.
Once they were gone, he started moving, heading back to pack up his hideout. He'd need to move somewhere people wouldn't be able to find him. Sthenos seemed like a good bet. And the old man had let slip he'd spoken with some Crones there. It was a long shot, but perhaps they'd be able to tell him who this mystery Flesh Eater was. He didn't like the idea that someone out there knew what he was capable of. He needed to make sure that couldn't come back to bite him.
