Private Tales Smoke & Mirrors

[Cenric]

Cortos - Barcion
The old decrepit townhouse seemed to creak as Cenric stepped up to the window. The ancient floorboards so rotted out and ancient that he half thought he was about to fall through.

Not that he wasn't used to it.

Half of his bodies were scattered in one shit hole or another. Sleeping on ragged beds and uncomfortable sofas while subsisting on meager meals. Which was to say, he was rather used to it. As uncomfortable as the sauna of a townhouse was, it served as delightful cover for their little operation here in Barcion. Though he would have preferred something with feathered beds, he'd no doubt the Red Cloaks would have quickly found them if that had been their choice.

"There she is." Cenric called out to his diminutive companion. Gesturing for Marcia to join him at the window.

Normally he handled this sort of business on his own, but the Vigilite had had other ideas this time. Apparently his work with Livia had caught some attention, and thus the High Inquisitor had set him to do more than his usual killing. Not only was here to do a job, but a bit of recruiting. He was to convince the young Initiate to join the Vigilite once her time at the Academy was up.

A path that not many Dreadlords considered, given the rather underhanded nature of their work. "That is High Selarch Alma."

He said, motioning to the palenquin being carried below. The silhoutte of an elderly woman just barely appearing behind shifts of flowing laced silk.

"Our target." Cenric mused for a moment as the High Lady and her guards walked by. Each of the twelve soldiers were a deep silver armor covered in Crimson Cloaks. Swords sat on each of their hips, and bright silver shields emblazoned with a burning sun sat upon their arms. Men who were clearly ready to kill.

Men they would have to get through.

 

[Marcia]

When opportunity came knocking, there was no choice but to open the door.

Or at least look through the window.

She approached Cenric as he gestured to her, the floorboards protesting less under her slight frame than they did with his. Marcia could see herself faintly in the glass and felt the instinctual split happen as she siphoned her soul into her reflection. She stood in two places at once, both eyes seeing the same thing, until her mirror image diverged and stepped aside to get a better look.

"Too good to use her own legs then," the Initiate commented with obvious disdain.

Marcia noted their quarry with a preliminary glance before moving on to her entourage, who the girl scrutinised with a deepening frown, noting the brilliant sheen of their armour. Heavily armoured foes weren't her forte, actually quite the opposite, so the idea of contending with them out in the open gave her reservations.

"The guards," Marcia began, getting down to the meat of the matter without the unnecessary pissing about, "what do we know about them?"

Obviously, she did not mean if they liked the smell of rain on the earth after a dry spell, but more in terms of their capability as combatants. Were they mundane in the way basic soldiers were, or were they, as she feared, adept at battling those who wielded magic?

 

[Cenric]

She asked questions, that was a blessing.

Half the Initiates he dealt with were as thick as bricks and decided the best strategy was to simply throw themselves at whatever stood in front of them. It worked for most of them, granted, but not in Cenric's line of work.

"Red Cloaks." Cenric said, using another one of the dozen interchangeable names the Guard had for them. "They're the elite of the Church. Not members of the Solar Choire, but each one is at least mage-touched."

Not capable of casting spells, but enhanced with the flows of arcane. Usually strengthened and made faster, though many had other talents. A few even meant to fight Dreadlords specifically. "Hard to tell how these ones will be. They're all different. The High Selarch is important, so they'll have some of their best guarding her."

Cenric frowned for a moment.

"Perhaps we'll have to test them first." He considered, stepping away from the window and letting the curtain fall. "Bait out one or two and thin the ranks, or, we capture one."

 

[Marcia]

Marcia remained silent as the Dreadlord answered her query, brown eyes skirting each of the Red Cloaks as her lips drew into a thin line.

The girl's chief concern was their ability to detect magic; the Initiate had enough faith in her abilities that she could get in and out undetected, with the High Selarch's throat cut from ear to ear, but if the presence of her reflection alerted the guards, then...

"I can do that; draw a few out," she finally replied, holding enough confidence in her abilities without being entirely too impulsive. "I could give them a pass with my reflection, see if any of them catch it, and then we ambush those who go to investigate."

A whisper of the unseen could be enough to send a couple their way; after all, they wouldn't rid themselves of the entire detachment, their core purpose being to escort their target.

 

[Cenric]

Oh good. Cenric thought to himself as Marcia volunteered to play bait. Ein's body wasn't exactly something that he wanted to risk getting recognized. Ten years ago his friend had ravaged three Cortosi Cathedrals.

He wouldn't have doubted if there was still wanted posters.

Had his magic not been the strongest Cenric had, he would have used another body. "Then we better get going fast."

The Dreadlord said as he motioned towards the ladder that stood in the corner of their little room. At the top stood a trap door which would lead to the roof-tops, from there they could follow the small procession until they found a good place for their ambush.

"Try to take just one." Cenric began as he pulled himself up and onto the roof. Offering Marci a hand as she reached the top. "The more go missing, the more they'll wonder."

He explained as they began to move along the roof tops.

 

[Marcia]

Understanding the urgency, Marcia followed the Dreadlord to the rooftops, where they could follow the procession unimpeded.

There was a balance she found, caught somewhere between deference and initiative, that, more often than not, helped the girl stand out in the eyes of her betters. Too much craven compliance and you risked falling into the trap of being an unremarkable burden destined to third-level mediocrity. On the other end of the scale, if you were too headstrong and overconfident, you were a reckless hindrance who risked life and mission for the sake of ego.

She chose measured risk and sought opportunities to volunteer when the moment was right.

From her pocket, she retrieved a small hand mirror, having avoided taking her large steel buckler that might as well have beckoned every eye on the streets towards her with its glare.

Staring into the reflection, her mirror image diverged, climbing down from the rooftops invisible to the naked eye as her main body continued moving with Cenric. It had taken a long time to get to this point, to control both bodies in tandem. Heeding his words, her reflection carefully stalked the procession, waiting to see if the presence of her magic behind them would cause a head or two to turn.

If not, she would have to get closer.

 

[Cenric]

"Qura." The word slipped as a whisper from one of the Red Cloaks, and two heads turned. Both walked at the back of the procession, one carried a heavy staff while the other kept a blade upon his back. The latter seemed to shift, and then break off from the group.

Cenric stopped almost immediately, the palanquin continuing forward with the other Red Cloaks as the lone figure seemed to linger.

"Got one." Cenric said as he motioned to Marcia. "Bring him into that alleyway."

As he spoke, Cenric quickly knelt low. Motioning for Marcia to the same as the Red Cloak with the staff turned his head and panned his gaze over the roof tops. As he searched, it was obvious that his eyes held no iris or pupil, but simply appeared as a pale white.

He searched for a moment in silence, and then continued his stride as the man whom he'd ordered back began to search the streets for the source of magic now on their tail.

Cenric tensed, waiting for Marcia to lure the man to the alley besides their building.

 

[Marcia]

She had to move on peripheral vision alone; her gaze still focused on the empty reflection in the mirror realm. When Cenric stopped, she stopped. When the man knelt, she did the same (although her height was a boon in that scenario). All the while, her reflection flirted at the back of the guard.

The straggler, armed with his blade, was searching.

Through her mirror image, she could see the truth in the man's eyes, the lack of iris and pupil suggesting magic, at least from her experience. It was akin to Dreadlord Krixus or Initiate Naser in how they wielded their abilities. However, these were foreigners, and she had to account for strange customs.

Her invisible second form skirted past him, heading down the alleyway as designated by the Dreadlord. The girl's reflection was sure to have her blade drawn but refrained from attacking as the guard followed, investigating the trail of magic she was leaving for him to follow.

Marcia would wait for Cenric's word, trusting his experience and authority over the will to do something bold and prove herself.

 

[Cenric]

The man below had some sort of mage-sight. It was clear from his eyes, though just what that was The Dreadlord did not know. A frown pulled at his lips as the man continued to stalk forward, one brief glance offered to Marcia.

Then he moved.

Cenric dropped down from the roof above.

He landed with a thud just behind he Red Guard, but the man didn't have time to turn around before the Dreadlord grabbed him. Arm looped quickly around the soldiers neck, palm coming up to splay against his face. "HEL-"

Before his cry could sound out completely, a muted snap echoed within the small alleyway. The Red Guard's body slumping and falling into Cenric's arms.

"Hm." The Dreadlord intoned quietly, his fingers drawing away to reveal a strange mark upon the soldiers neck. With a muted thud, the body dropped to the floor, Cenric's head turning left and right before he motioned for Marcia to come down and join him.

With a hook behind the other man's arm, Cenric dragged the Guard behind a set of crates. As Marcia made her way down, Cenric glanced down at a watch pulled from his coat. "Takes a minute or two, watch the entrance of the alley."

 

[Marcia]

She watched from the vantage point of her reflection as Cenric dropped behind the guard, too focused on the invisible presence before him to react in time. The audible snap of his neck was the signal for her to break eye contact with the mirror and dispel her reflection.

When he gestured, she followed, her landing considerably softer given the difference in mass between them. She then aided the Dreadlord in moving the body behind the cover of the crates.

As much as Marcia would have liked to linger and observe Cenric's magic at play, she did not argue when he directed her to watch the alleyway entrance instead. Keeping them undetected was far more important than sating her curiosity, and if she were to be appraised, then being diligent and getting things right the first time of asking was key.

Marcia stood mirroring the body language of those who observed the procession; her apparent attention was on the High Selarch's palanquin in all its ornate glory, but the peripheral was reserved for that tail end of the Red Cloaks. The second guard that her magic had caught the attention of remained in line but looked back to sweep the crowd in search of the first.

Her magical presence was now absent, but in its place was now Cenric's. She could sense his hesitation, the flutter of red pulling back to investigate further. She would wait until he was closer to intervene and distract him if necessary.

 

[Cenric]

Before Marcia had to intervene, the same man that had Cenric had killed suddenly stood behind her.

"I'm going to join back up with them." The words came spoken in double, for to the right of Marcia now stood Ein. The two men speaking in perfect tandem. "This man's memories have been guarded by magic."

There was a slight tinge of concern to both voices as they spoke. "Powerful wards."

Cenric should have been able to see the man's whole life. His family, where he had been born, everything.

But it was all gone.

It was as though the Red Guard were a little more than a blank. Like someone had taken him and wiped away what he had once been simply to turn him into...this. Yet the personality was still there, the man was. His memories were not.

Troubling.

The Red Guard Cenric had taken left the alleyway, slowly walking back towards the Palenquin and shaking his head as though he had found nothing. The men who had been pulling back more suddenly forming up once more as they saw their brother returned.

"I do know how to get into her Estate though." He smiled down at Marcia. "And that's all we needed."

 

[Marcia]

Marcia was so focused on the investigating guard that when their mark suddenly appeared behind her, she was startled, her head flinching into her neck as twin voices greeted the girl.

She offered a silent nod, eyebrows knitting in trepidation at the news that Cenric had been unable to delve into the red guard's memories fully. Of course, she didn't know the complete function of the Dreadlord's ability, nor did she imagine he would be willing to divulge.

Were there perhaps some similarities in their magic? It seemed so on the surface, in the control of multiple vessels, only she was restricted to that of her mirror image, and as far as she knew, he was confined to the material realm. Perhaps, down the road, she would inquire further, but as things stood, her mind remained focused on the mission.

"So then, what's the plan from there?" Marcia inquired, watching the Red Guards reform at the back of line. She glanced up at him. "Get ahead and infiltrate the estate?"

 

[Cenric]

"Yes." Cenric answered, though it was obvious he was still distracted.

He didn't like how the depths of the Red Guard's mind had been blocked to him. That had never happened before. Not even with those Witches in the Vaudelay. Their magics had done odd things to his tricks, but not something like this.

It almost felt as though someone had been prepared for him. "We head towards the estate, and I'll have the back gate unlocked for us."

Those memories had at least been shallow enough for him to dig out. The back gate wasn't watched, mostly because it was hidden against a large slues by the city wall. Most people didn't even realize it existed at all.

"If the reflection is right." Cenric asked, glancing down at Marcia. "Can you unlock a window?"

He dind't actually know, the dossier hadn't been that detailed.

 

[Marcia]

Marcia nodded, taking Cenric's lead on their plan of attack, given that he had access to all the information, or at least as much as the Dreadlord could gather, given the unexpected hurdle.

The girl cringed somewhat when he asked her whether she could unlock a window, but his knowledge of her abilities was also lacking. There was a part of her, eager to impress, striving to be the best, that baulked at the thought of telling a superior that she couldn't do something, but as it stood, it was a fact.

"No," she admitted quietly. "Even if my mirror image smashed a window, it wouldn't break, at least not for us."

It wasn't easy to describe, with Marcia unsure how best to put her reflection magic into words. The more academic Proctors had their theories on how it worked and how best to define the girl's abilities, but not yet with complete certainty.

"It's like another realm; only living things are true reflections. If my reflection pulled out my dagger and threw it at you, my blade here would remain sheathed, and there would be nothing embedded in your chest in reality. Just a wound, if that makes any sense."

 

[Cenric]

Cenric nodded his head as the girl spoke, thinking for a few moments about how they could use the ability in their infiltration.

There was little doubt in his mind that given ten years Marcia would become one of the Vigilite's premiere assassins. At least if she decided to go that way. Magic such as hers was extremely useful in ways that many Dreadlords would rather deny.

It had always been that Vel Anir prized it's powerhouses the most.

Those that could sunder cities, massacre armies, or break down entire fleets into naught but wood.

Truth was though, the makings of a war were not won on the battlefield. They were won in places like this, with missions like these. Where men and women in power fell, and their deepest secrets were taken with those that killed them. "Then we'll get in another way."

He said simply, but then added. "Though, you'll be doing in the killing now."

Because he was pretty sure that neither of them could actually get close.

 

[Marcia]

"Of course," she replied with a nod; it made sense.

Marcia may not have been able to open windows with her abilities, but she was more than capable of using her reflection to slit throats without being detected. She could only imagine this was why she was here with Cenric now, singled out for the utility of an unseen blade.

The Initiate hadn't fully made peace with it.

She was ultimately shackled for all her determination to be the best and her diligent pursuits to train, learn, and grow. With her short stature, she'd never be a titan in the open face of war. If only she were Arn, who had the physical gifts to mould himself into a behemoth of battle. Her natural magic was obscure, not applicable in every situation and limited by many factors. If only she were Vittoria, who could rend man, monster, and material with little effort, she would be destined to be a war hero before age twenty. Then there was social status, for which she had none, a child of the Academy with no name and nothing to it. If only she were D'Amour, who...

Fuck that.

Wishing was pointless; longing for the unobtainable was the death sentence of progress. Her glory was the glory of Vel Anir, no matter what mould fit her diminutive frame and niche abilities. Forget 'if only' and 'what if'; move forward in the name of duty.

 

[Cenric]

The two of them moved through the city streets until eventually the peaks of the Palace tower began to appear between the other buildings.

Cenric could not read Marcia's mind, but he himself had none of the compunction about his role in the world. Though he could take the magics of others, his own abilities had never been suited for the battlefield. Fighting with too many of his own bodies under the same control was too disorientating and difficult, the most he'd ever managed was three.

That meant he could not be a one man army, and his use in battle was as limited as any other Dreadlord.

But on a mission like this?

Cenric lead Marcia towards the back of the large Palace. Moving on public streets under the eyes of soldiers standing watch at the gates. Striding until they reached a corner and turned towards the back wall which kept the Estate safe. There they found a small gate, a heavy metal door clearly sealed with more than half a dozen locks.

The Elder Dreadlord took up position besides it, leaning against the limestone casually as he waited for his other body to thread it's way through the gardens. "Killing the High Selarch will be quite a feather in the cap."

Cenric commented.

"If we pull this off, you'll practically be able to pick where you want to go after Graduation." The Dreadlord commented as he waited for his other body to make it through the Estate and to the door.