Completed The games they play

[Jana]

Jana was rarely ordered around for matters as small as protecting merchants, no matter their standing, but this was rather an exception. House Sirl had a lot of trade deals going on all around, just as any other noble House of Vel Anir, but this was of a special importance as of late. Mostly because one of the men who worked for them went missing. In a way that was nothing if suspicious as well, making House Sirl suspect an intervention from other Houses. After all, this particular set of deals had been giving them slight edge in some areas of trade.
In any case, Jana's goal was simple: to protect the remaining merchant, a man in his forties who was equally afraid of abduction and smug to have her, a second level Dreadlord, there for his protection. If he disappeared as well, it would mean an unfortunate set of events for her House.

And Jana was determined to not let that happen.

They were in the merchant's house for now, or, rather, one of the several houses he owned across Vel Anir, the one that was most inconspicuous. There were four of them here in total, he, Jana and two servants, a woman and a man. A nice balance, if one paid attention to the things like that. For now the servants were downstairs, while the merchant sat in his office on the second floor, going through some paperwork on his table. Jana was in the same room, standing next to one of the walls with the grace of a statue. Her blind stare was turned to the window, as if she could distinguish anything there.
She felt the servants, the merchant and a trace of their surroundings. She had also examined the room before settling into this spot, to know exactly where anything was.

Jana had about a dozen of plans regarding her actions, no matter from where the attack might come. There were two windows, a door, the roof, walls and the floor. Any of them could be a gateway for anybody skilled enough, she had no illusions according that. Stone wasn't a barrier for many people in Vel Anir.
And she was ready to face anything an opposing force might want to do. She had to. Jana had one goal above all: to keep the merchant alive until the next day, when he would sign a new deal. Loosing him later on was undesirable as well, but loosing him before that was an event which would make her fall out of the good graces of some members of the House Sirl.
Jana wasn't ready to let that happen.

As evening approached and light dimmed, she was as still as ever.

Ania

 

[Ania]

When Carlisle informed Ania of what House Sirl has done she was livid. All of the great houses knew that imports of Elbion goods were to be facilitated through the correct channels and must be approved by Sullivan Weiroon prior to their allowance into the city. This was not only for the safety of the residents of Vel Anir but also to ensure no House was bringing illicit goods to undermine another.

Now that Banick was getting a taste of riches and Luana was emptying their coffers to every beggar or drunk House Sirl thought they could just do whatever they wished. Just because Weiroon wasn’t part of the ruling council must have meant their authority no longer mattered.

After Ania had kidnapped the first merchant, tortured him to get the names of the rest, and ended his sad life it seemed as though Sirl was taking the situation seriously. But, did they sit down with Weiroon to cut them in on the action?

No. Instead, they dispatched a dreadlord to provide protection. A fact Ania only recognized upon arrival at the man’s house.

Ania opened the front door and waltzed in. Prepared to hypnotize and butcher the poor dreadlord assigned here before they could...

Blind? Had the fools from Sirl actually predicted that Weiroon would send her? The one dreadlord in all of Vel Anir which rendered her magic entirely useless. Well, not entirely.

“Good afternoon, I had some questions about some wares you’ve been selling,” she informed the three pairs of eyes and the blind dreadlord. Ania ensured that she made direct eye contact with both servants and the merchant in question.

 

[Jana]

She felt the servants scramble up the stairs almost before she detected the new presence at the front door. A whirl of magic, pulsing through the life flow of the person approaching the room Jana and merchant were in, one quite familiar to her. Ania, a Dreadlord of House Weiroon. A formidable opponent, were she standing against anybody else.
Jana couldn't help but feel a faint trace of amusement as the two servants rushed into room, getting instantly silenced by the raise of her hand. She had never doubted the wisdom of her House, and now it became even more apparent. Jana would have been surprised to find out that this was only an accident, a lucky turn of events, such things rarely happened in the intricate web of Anirian politics, games of power. And House Sirl was used to staying very well informed about them all.

As the other Dreadlord marched into the room, Jana stepped away from the wall, closer to the merchant. When the girl was done speaking, she made another step, placing herself between her and the man, who was now filling room with tangible waves of distress. She hoped that the merchant was wise enough to keep his mouth shut. His job was to ensure a successful deal tomorrow, nothing else.
"There is nothing to speak of. This is business of House Sirl. Step back now, if you wish to leave this house on your own feet," Jana's tone was free of any emotions, her gaze blank and expression lacking any character. Her staff was in her right left hand, the sword ready to be drawn on her hip.
She could feel the pulsing of life in the young Dreadlord, sense the threads and channels of it. And if she stepped any closer, Jana would find pleasure in silencing it.

After all, what could a weakling who relied on sight so much do against her? She had exterminated this weakness in herself. And she wouldn't hesitate to exterminate it in others.
Peculiar thought. What would little hound of House Weiroon do without her precious eyes?

 

[Ania]

“House Sirl?” Ania questioned in a mocking tone.

She stood firm, hands off the hilt of her estoc, she crossed her arms in amusement. Failure was not an option. If the serf of Sirl knew anything about her then she already knew Ania wasn’t leaving so simply.

“I merely came to discuss business,” she lied, “it must be booming to afford so many villas scattered around the city.”

While she spoke an illusion projected to the two servants and the merchant. It was Jana who now appeared to have horns and a wide gaping mouth dripping with crimson blood. Meanwhile, Ania herself used the hallucination to appear brighter, her eyes more rounded, a friendly smile and a basket of medical supplies slung along her arm.

“As you know, House Weiroon prizes the free flow of goods through our great city and after what happened I was alarmed that Sirl would dispatch someone so… dangerous to offer protection. Did they even inform this honest merchant as to the nature of your magic?” Ania’s lips thinned, forming a mild frown. “If you four would feel more comfortable we have a safehouse not far from here, two dreadlords are better than one.

Ania needed to buy time. Think up a better plan. For now eroded the trust in their defender would have to do. It was likely that in a straight sword fight the dreadlord from Weiroon could handle herself. When factoring in Jana’s magic her only hope would be a four versus one. These commoners were all expendable.

 

[Jana]

Giving mockery to Jana was very similar to throwing a rock at the wall of a fortress. Meaning, it had to be an enormous rock to bring it down, and this little phrase was anything but that. This girl could mock House Sirl as much as she wanted, a bear didn't flinch in the face of a rabbit. Even more so, Jana didn't care about anything she might say about the merchant. It didn't influence her mission in the slightest.
The woman didn't move, not a muscle twitched in her rigid posture. She was as unfazed as ever.

"There will be no discussion. Leave," her tone didn't falter.

Of course, the little Dreadlord didn't listen to her. Jana had seen such outcome to be the most possible, even without using any of her magic, and that was exactly what happened. Unfortunately, caught in the amusement of her own invincibility in the face of her abilities, Jana hadn't given much thought to the two servants and the merchant before her.
And as she saw the streaks of magic, too fact for her to intercept without preparation, disappear in their respective life flows, she gritted her teeth. The girl had just made this more difficult.

She had also increased the chance of Jana very much enjoying giving her some serious injuries.

If Jana had some time, she could have tried to untangle the girl's magic from the three people around her, but it was no task for a brief moment. Even her skill wasn't enough for that. So, as they all took a step away from her, the two servants huddling closer to the young Dreadlord, while the merchant pressed himself against his desk with a terrified gasp, drinking girl's words down without hesitation, Jana let out a quiet sigh. Together with this exhale, her arms got surrounded by a silvery aura, soon growing to be a duplicate of them. They were faintly visible, but seemed to have less physical constrictions as her real ones, as one of them reached back swiftly, finger shooting at the merchant's forehead. As soon as the astral flesh touched the living one, he fell to the floor as a sack of flour.
He wasn't dead. Just in a comatose like state, induced by a careful slowing of his inner energy. He would be more of a physical burden to her now, but at least mental attacks against the man had become less prone to succeed.

She didn't really care about the servants. Killing them wouldn't even require an effort.

"This is your last warning. Leave," Jana echoed again, the faintly glowing pair of arms slightly extended forwards.
She was ready to crush her.

 

[Ania]

“No discussion? Well that just won’t do,” Ania said with a sadistic grin plastered across her face. “I won’t be leaving.”

The dreadlord of Weiroon hadn’t anticipated the Sirl wretch’s next move. Robbing the merchant of his consciousness. He flopped backwards with a large thud as his body collided with floorboards. One of her gambles was to pull on Jana’s heartstrings by having the merchant exposed to whatever pain was inflicted on her. A long shot for certain, it was unlikely either dreadlord cared about the man’s comfort.

On the other hand… she could use this. Press her adversary’s maneuver and flip it against her. She shifted the hallucinations felt by the two servants, they beheld the merchant reappear from behind his desk. His face red and filled with rage they saw him wag a finger and declare to Jana, “kill them all this instant!”

This was it. Likely her best chance to succeed at her task. She may limp out of here with a few broken bones and deep lacerations, if she limped out at all, but now there was a shimmer of hope.

Ania steeled herself and addressed the two servants, “this may be our only shot at surviving this mess. Kill your master or else he’ll hunt you both down. Strangle him, and then run, don’t stop. I will distract the dreadlord long enough for you to complete this task. Do not wait for me.”

The female servant looked mortified, “w-we can’t do that.”

Her male counterpart retorted, “we must, it’s the only way Regina,” and he charged towards the down merchant.

In the same instant Ania drew her slender blade and rushed Jana, plunging her sword towards the opposing dreadlord’s midsection. Her aim wasn’t to kill, merely to distract long enough for the servants to finish her target off for her.

 

[Jana]

Oh, how much of a Weiroon there was in this little thing. No wisdom to back off, no intellect but that needed for cheap insults or a handful of battle tactics. Although, that was something most of the other Houses and their underlings suffered from. Jana wasn't surprised, she wasn't even annoyed properly, channeling away any unnecessary feelings without hesitating, but she was anticipating.
Some predictable move, or one weak in its very base.

Something oh so typical in youngsters who thought the world of themselves. This would be a lesson for her to learn.

The only thing she hadn't fully taken into account were the servants. They were no match for her, obviously, but the unconscious merchant could be harmed by a lot less. Jana could heal him later on, at least a bit, but there would be no use in her powers if he was dead. That would be a job for a necromancer, and that she wasn't.
As the other Dreadlord set her plan into action, Jana had only a spare second to think of a one for herself.

And so she peered into what was hidden from the most, into what would or could happen here in the next few moments, the threads of possibilities flashing quickly before her inner eye, which saw as much as it merely sensed.
But, there. She found it. One course of action that was probable and beneficial for her.

The male servant had lunged froward, the female one following him a few steps, more out of fear than determination. That became her end.
Jana whirled her staff in the air in a simple motion, yet it didn't go to protect herself for the blade of the girl, no, she turned of her feet, never loosing balance, and landed a precise hit on the male servant's head. There was an audible crack. Simultaneously, her silvery, etheral hands reached forwards, grasping the female, pulling her forwards.
Her body made a decent shield. Not a perfect one, allowing the sword of her opponent slash her side at the very end of the motion, leaving a gash that started to bleed instantly, and then ceased to just as fast as Jana took her body under full control again. It would be a problem in a while, but for now she could ignore the pain and the wound. It would rob her of some mobility, but, at least, the both servants were now down, the man with a dent in his skull, the woman with a cut over her abdomen, life fading from her with the each drop of blood spilled on the floor.

It was only her and the young Dreadlord now. And Jana liked her current odds.

 

[Ania]

"Damn," the dreadlord of Weiroon remarked.

It'd been a decent plan but she hadn't factored that the servant of House Sirl would be more difficult to distract than her little gambit. With both of the merchant's employees rendered unconscious it seemed her task would increase in difficulty tenfold. Why did her prey have to be guarded by a level two dreadlord? A blind level two dreadlord. Ania was merely a level three and with her abilities "stunted," as her mentor used to say, it was likely to stay that way for quite some time.

But, there was a minuscule possibility of hope still. The tinge of scarlet that trailed from Jana brought a twisted grin to Ania's freckled face. It was a small gash, didn't seem too serious, but surely the blood loss would build up with enough time.

Time. Though the board had changed her strategy seemed to remain the same. Buy some time and she was still in this. If she could get within reach of the merchant, even for just a second, she could end his life. She allowed the blood to flow off the tip of her estoc. Glaring at the dreadlord who stood before her.

"Pity. Merchant will need some new help, huh?" Ania's tone remained a taunting one. She'd see this through, succeed or fail, she wasn't about to lay down her arms and go to tea with this one. "You've got the scar to prove you tried to defend your little pal back there. Why don't we make a deal? You let me stick the pointy end of my blade through the man's neck, just a few inches, and you show them your little wound. The kind folks of House Sirl will understand."

Her grin never left her face. Didn't matter that Jana couldn't see it, the pleasure was all Ania's.

 

[Jana]

The gash on her side became a distant, unimportant burn in the distance of her consciousness as Jana drew another breath. Breathing was one of the ways to channel one's inner force, the quickest one, even if it faded in a whim as well. It was important to keep the intakes of air and exhales to a certain pace, controlling them carefully, and then any bodily harm could be overcome. Pain, cold, physical strain. Jana had been put through them all, day after day, month after moth, until she learned to ignore the freezing touch of ice on her skin, the razor sharp pain of her skin being cut open.
The blood was still seeping through the wound, slower than it normally would, Jana willing it to clot faster, yet still there. But it didn't matter. She was the master of her physical form, and she would decide what to feel and what to ignore.

"House Sirl is made of no fools," her tone was still even, despite the red patch on her clothing, only the slightest scorn painting the edges of it. Did the little hound of House Weiroon really expect her to fall so low, to be so utterly foolish as to give her mission away, give her House's honor away, and simply step aside, like a weakling who could only make their way through the ranks by cheap trickery and lowly deals, not worthy a true Dreadlord.
She was the hands who brought death in the name of her House, she was a second level, she was Jana Evet, and no little girls would make her falter in the face of her purpose in this life.

With no further warning, she lunged forwards, making her attack, orienting judged by the little strings and knots of life in the girl's body. She feinted at her head, before making the real attack, aimed at her core. A sequence appropriate for catching somebody off guard, and causing them to make a fatal mistake.
The silvery arms, growing from her ethereal form, reached forwards. If she wouldn't be careful enough to keep her distance, Jana would end this fight quickly. Obviously, trained users of magic were harder to influence than other living beings, but she could still do enough by one touch.
This girl had made her choice. Despite this, Jana didn't intend to kill her, unless she had no other choice, it could bring unnecessary trouble to her and her House. Not now. For now she simply wanted to hurt her very, very badly.

 

[Ania]

Convincing people to do things was something that Ania had become quite talented at. Typically she had some fanciful illusion or horrific hallucination to aid her ploys. Jana was proving that she was much less convincing without those skills.

"House Sirl is a-," as she uttered an insult that would no doubt prove extremely hurtful to Jana's pride the level two dreadlord suddenly aimed to assault her.

Ania was initially shocked but the warrior must've truly underestimated the younger dreadlord from Weiroon. Her maneuvers were so obviously telegraphed that it seemed almost too simple to anticipate and react. The pale woman would simply raise her blade upwards to parry the attack coming towards her head and then launch a counter towards the blind fool's legs before rushing the downed merchant. Once the merchant was dead she could depart through the window and head back towards Weiroon Manor. Simple enough. Except...

...the attack wasn't aimed at Ania's scalp. Jana's staff collided full force with her stomach and chest forcing the air to rush out of her lungs. The dreadlord from Weiroon barreled over, collapsing onto her knees, gasping for air. Through wheezes and gasps a hoarse, "you bitch," escaped her lips.

 

[Jana]

Feeling the force of a well-landed hit was a thrilling sensation every single time. Not that Jana allowed herself to indulge in that too much, but there was still a slight smile tugging at the corners of her lips, victorious in a weakly guarded way.
That's how it happens in the real world, little girl. You get your head too high, get your words too bold, and, sooner or later, somebody with true power comes and beats it all out of you. Again and again, and again. And you do the same to others, those that are below you, that's what life is all about.
There was always a bigger fish. And Jana had outgrown the most.

"Hush now," she was almost gentle with her words, even if her staff was still extended towards the other Dreadlord, and she would be ready to strike again right away. Although, there was no need now. She could just extend her astral form, grasp the threads, the channels that kept the girl running and shut them.
As the silvery flesh touched that of the crouching Dreadlord, it was as it they were made of icy water, or freezing gusts of wind, solid in the same way they were simply an illusion. Jana's astral form wasn't made up from real matter, it was just energy, focused in a way that it could interact with living beings outside of her body. Making it visible was mostly a side effect for the real purpose of this magic.
And the girl, no doubt, would soon get to feel it. Stopping the flow of life inside people far from magic was usually as easy as crushing a bug under one's fingers. Their inner force moved by inertia that was set into it on the moment of their birth, receiving new impulses very rarely, thus making it easy to manipulate. But mages... Well, mages were a little bit trickier. Their magic was like a horse pulling a carriage that would otherwise roll on its own. Whatever she tried to stop and move on would come into new motion almost right away, so, to truly get control over mages one required not only more skill, but also time.
Not too long. Minutes instead of seconds, but it could be dangerous in battle.

Jana doubted that it would be now. Even a short touch would be enough to make the girl sluggish compared to before, and, well, if she tried to resist, it would be the same as a mouse trying to fight against a cat. Fun for the cat.
After all, there was no magic she could put against Jana. Right?

 

[Ania]

There were few things that one could be certain of in this world. Ania was certain that Vel Anir was the greatest city ever constructed. She was certain that House Weiroon was the only great house capable of delivering governance worthy of a people as great as the Anirians. She was certain that any of the orders she was carrying out were just and noble. And, most of all, she was certain that one day she'd inflict so much pain on Jana that the blind wretch of Sirl would be pleading for a swift death.

How she longed for that day right now. Bent over, saliva flowing down her chin as she continued to heave in oxygen. The pale dreadlord could feel the bruise already forming along her midsection as she clutched at her chest. Had the servant of Sirl intended to kill her the deed would already be done and that was by far the most insulting thing of all. Ania wouldn't be defeated just yet though, no, she wouldn't fail like this.

Still holding her midsection the warrior of Weiroon grasped her blade and circled on her knees, attempting to slash at her adversary's legs.

"I want you to know that I hate you. Were you able to look at me I would've had you kill the merchant with your own hands," she yelled with enough vitriol to shake the villa.

Ania backed away from her enemy not sure if he blade had connected, towards the desk of the merchant. She knew that she wouldn't be able to get to her prey before Jana would intercept but she was running out of space here. A window was exposed to her flank. If things got more dire it could prove an escape route and she'd be forced to explain to her masters this disgrace.

This failure.

 

[Jana]

It was almost funny to see the little puppy of Weiroon yelp at her like this, trying to get her little fangs out, without much success. Jana took a sweeping step back, avoiding the blade with ease, having almost tasted the intention that set it in motion, although it did make her loose the magical contact with her. It hardly mattered now. The little hound would be too stubborn to be worth putting out anyways, and Jana would much more rather use her to send a little message to her House, that had started to get too much into its head.
No wonder they said that the Dreadlords often matched their house.

But she couldn't get too carried away. She still had a mission, a mission which came above any private pleasure she might derive from completing it or inflicting wounds of different magnitude to House Weiroon's petty little Dreadlord.
"Silence," Jana ordered with a softness to her voice that didn't tie well together with another swing of her staff, aimed at the waist of the girl. Whether it landed properly or not was not as important, the only thing that mattered was the space it gave her to, using a clever bit of footwork, get herself almost directly between Ania and the merchant. She would have to make a very, very dangerous maneuver to get to the unconscious man now.

Jana sensed her and every of her possible intentions would be laid bare in front of her if the girl would try another attack. She had lost the edge of speed and numbers that she had. She really should have been grateful that Jana was kind and reasonable enough not to kill her on the spot, or even just leave her here, with a good half of the bones in her body carefully broken.
"Now, you better go and tell the respectable people of House Weiroon that the matters of House Sirl are none of their business," there was a weakly hidden mocking in her words.
The end of her staff was pointed at the chest of the other Dreadlord. And if she would try to avoid that, the silvery fingers of her astral form were still stretching out hungrily, ready to mess with her inner flow some more.

 

[Ania]

Jana's staff collided once more, this time hitting her squarely in her waist. Ania wished that this horrid creature had her eyesight. The pain and torment she'd love to unleash on her was more immense than any of her past prey. It so very rare for the freckle faced tool of Weiroon to admit her defeat but there was no arguing it here. Continuing this failed venture would be akin to an ant screaming at a giant. There was shame in that and she could feel its burn under her skin.

"Pray we do not ever see each other again," she uttered, clutching at the spot where Jana's staff most recently struck. There were no further insults she could levy, at this point her only option was to run with her tail between her legs.

In a jolt Ania stood and rushed towards the window. She crashed into it shoulder first and tumbled down from the second story. Limping off on a sprained leg as she braced her fall, barely avoiding a collapse onto her knees. Scurrying off in the night she headed towards Weiroon Manor. Though she knew it would be ill received it was her solemn duty to inform them of her inability to kill this petty merchant.

Perhaps, if they knew whom she was up against, there'd be a modicum of mercy. Ania knew she didn't deserve it.

---

Inside of Weiroon's great halls she was met with a livid Carlisle. Her failure would mean that Sirl would profit whilst Weiroon faltered.

"What have you to say for yourself?" Carlisle demanded more than questioned.

Ania gulped before responded, "I have failed, please forgive my transgression. They sent that blind bitch to defend him and I couldn't do anyth-," her pleas fell onto deaf ears.

Carlisle's interruption was swift and cold, "your weaknesses are not my problem, girl. Sebastian Weiroon will be most disappointed. Take her."

She was blindfolded, strapped to a chair in the dungeons, and each day presented with a new prisoner of Weiroon. She was to use her ability on them without eyesight. She'd remain down here until she got it right. Until she'd be able to enact revenge on the Sirl wretch that had bested her.

 

[Jana]

Jana didn't believe in any deities, nor did she ever pray for anything, especially when faced with a weakly yelping hound of Weiroon, trying to bark where she couldn't bite anymore. She could feel the physical torment she had inflicted, as petty as it was if compared to what a true battle could have brought. And it was enough to fully silence the echo of Ania's words in her head.

"Off you go, little hound," she muttered sweetly to herself, sensing her adversary disappear in the streets, until Jana could no longer feel the spark of her life. And, oh, if they were to ever meet again, the outcome would be even sweeter on her side.
Once more, she had succeeded in her mission.

It was time to wake the merchant now, find a new safe-house and wait for any other challengers of House Sirl's rights to show up, if they dared.
Jana would crush them all.

***​

"Excellent job, no less than we would ever expect from you," an elderly voice wrapped around her ears, as Jana fell onto one knee in one of the wide halls House Sirl called home.

"I live to serve my Great House. The hound of Weiroon was weak. An unworthy opponent for the might of Sirl."

"I do hope so. But beware vanity. She might want to repay you in the future."

"I shall never bend under such weakness," Jana spoke without a shadow of a doubt. Yet, the answer to her words came in the form of a dry, short laughter.

"Perhaps you won't. We shall see. Be how it is, remember, there is no place for infirmity in House Sirl. Nor defeat."
The words made Jana's blood sing with the sense of power that was in her command. They were also a warning. One that she had been taught to fear, as much as her spirit was usually free of any emotion.

If the girl from Weiroon ever stood against her, she would crush her. She would crush her, because there was no other way worthy of the House Sirl.