Completed The Meeting of Much Import

[Soleil Verdane]

Soleil Verdane never found it too difficult to get away from the Academy and all the watchful eyes therein—especially now in the age of the Republic. Lies were carefully crafted tools. Truth was a weapon to be forged to your liking.

Now she was in Vel Anir city. Inside the Embassy of Anir Square (a building that one Kristen Pirian would recognize and fear, but that is neither here nor there).

And the masked man awaited her in the meeting room. It was only the two of them.

"Come in," the man instructed, "and shut the door. We have much to discuss."

Soleil, smiling, did so.

 

[Soleil Verdane]

The meeting room was one of a splendor bested only but the interiors of Vel Aerelos. Lighting both of magical and mundane means cast soft shadows, left a gentle dimness so as not to stress the eye with undue brightness. The table at which the masked man and Soleil sat was long, made of polished mahogany. They sat at one end, across from one another, yet at the other end of the table was something large, something covered by a dark sheet of cloth.

"Firstly," said the masked man, "we must establish a foundation for our discussion. Specifically, expectations for you. I will list them. First, neither of us are here in this room, nor have we ever been here, nor have we met. Second, this is your only chance to walk away from this discussion, but you must still abide by the first rule. Third, if you disclose any information spoken of in our discussion, or if you breach any of the terms at which we may arrive, then..."

The masked man gave a small wave of his hand. And by means of magic did the dark sheet of cloth pull back to reveal a dead body on the table, freshly slain—a man, maybe an Anirian citizen, maybe not, but no one Soleil recognized.

"...I will have you credibly framed for murder. If you think you are cunning enough to elude this punishment you are wrong; I assure you that my wrath has a long reach, that I am relentless, that you will never know in what way or at what time it will come, and that you will inevitably find your life in ruin in one manner or another. It is therefore in your best interest to abide by these rules or to, at this time, withdraw from this discussion. Is this fair?"

Soleil, undaunted by the body and by the man, said firmly, "Yes. Fair."

"Good. Then let us begin. For the purposes of our discussion you may call me...Mr. Green."

 

[Soleil Verdane]

"I will commend you," said Mr. Green, "for deciphering the codes embedded in my correspondences. Had you failed to do so I would have concluded our contact there."

Soleil drank in the praise, such as it was, without reservation. "See patterns. Connect patterns. Message clear."

Mr. Green paused for a moment. Most people did when first speaking with Soleil, when first encountering her very clipped and spartan manner of speech. He adjusted to it, however, and soon continued.

"You occupy a unique and advantageous position in the Academy, especially as it pertains to the Interested Party that I represent. You have used this position to great effect in the past. For example, you procured information for three Rogue Dreadlords which allowed them to impersonate three Initiates for their purposes. Those Rogues ultimately failed in their task, but that is no fault of your own; you gave them all that they needed and they failed in the execution." He paused for a moment, the tiniest bend of a smile showing then. "As you can see, my information is good."

Soleil wasn't shaken by the reveal of this. She just remembered Ambrosie, how easy it was to trick her again and into naively blurting out the identification codes: Rose, Midnight, Fencer. It was something of a shame that Ambrosie died in that mission; she had been a useful tool.

"Me? Many disregard. Many think aloof. Many think weak." Not unlike Lothar, as it happened. She had her suspicions about him, that he was kindred to her in mind, that he wasn't weak, that he was doing exactly what she was doing, but she thus far had been unable to prove it. "Easy for me. Watch, listen, sabotage, all easy."

"Good." Mr. Green produced a small slip of parchment, leaned forward, and handed it across the table. "The core of our discussion: the Interested Party has as their principal interest an Initiate in the Academy. A name you will doubtless recognize."

Soleil accepted the slip. Her eyes scrolled down leisurely to look at the name writ upon it.

And when she read it, her smile was slow in its spread and immense in its magnitude.

 

[Soleil Verdane]

The slip in Soleil's hand was incinerated, either of some triggered property within the slip itself or by a direct and subtle action of Mr. Green, but in whatever case the paper was gone as if it had never existed.

"Yes," Soleil said. "Recognize name. Me? More eager now."

"Good," Mr. Green said again. Then he straightened up his posture to a small degree, lifting his chin ever so slightly with a kind of understated pride. "What you need to know of me is this: I am a facilitator. I enable parties with mutual interests a method of communication with each other where none can otherwise feasibly exist. That said, the Target, whose name was written on that slip, is not easily accessible for the Interested Party. This is where you come in."

"Me? What get?"

Mr. Green spread his hands. "Here our true dealing begins, such that this negotiation proves beneficial for both yourself and the Interested Party."

Soleil mimed the small rectangular slip of parchment with his index fingers and thumb, mimed placing it on the table and then pointed to it. "Want to kill. Wanted for long time."

"Unfortunately, that is the one thing the Interested Party has disallowed. It is non-negotiable that you capture the Target alive." Mr. Green gave a little shrug, as if his coming suggestion were obvious, "Gold, a considerable sum, is the Interested Party's initial offer."

Soleil shook her head. "Care nothing for gold." She thought for a moment. "If not kill, then what allowed?"

Mr. Green likewise thought for a moment. "The Interested Party is only concerned with receiving the Target alive. They are not concerned about in what condition."

"Torture," Soleil said, this as nonchalantly as if she were requesting some meal at the Academy's dining facility. "I want time to torture. Enjoy it."

 

[Soleil Verdane]

Mr. Green set his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers. "That can be arranged. But you must tell me what it is you intend to do with precise detail. The terms of our negotiation, you understand, must be made clear for both parties."

Soleil took a moment to think. A long moment. She went through luxurious daydreams of all the things she could do...but in the end, there was one thing which took her fancy. One powerful stroke of sheer domination, of suffering beyond compare. She told Mr. Green what she wanted, and Mr. Green nodded; adding, even, that the Interested Party would be quite pleased about this, for it fit well with their designs.

"That will be yours then, and it will be done first."

Soleil smiled grandly. With her own self-centered desires satiated, her end of the bargain was a matter of practicality, a means to an end. What this "Interested Party" wanted wasn't of any particular concern to her, not truly. Just what she received from this deal.

"Me? What do?"

Mr. Green took a second to understand her question, the odd brevity of it throwing him off slightly, and then said, "As I have already alluded to, you are to capture the Target alive. The Interested Party is patient in this regard, and they have as their highest priority that this endeavor must remain covert. Accordingly, you must choose your opportunity for capture carefully, lest you be completely disavowed and left to endure whatever consequences ensue."

Soleil gave a little shrug of her shoulders, and, perhaps to highlight her point in some weird way, her arms detached and floated up to the table and crossed themselves upon it. "Problem. Me? Not strong. Many things heavy. Subdue Target? Much easier than carry Target."

Mr. Green showed that tiny wisp of a smile again. "Not to worry. Both of these potential problems have already been addressed."

And from his pocket he produced two enchanted devices, oval-shaped and metallic. He set them on the table.

 

[Soleil Verdane]

"Courtesy of the Interested party," said Mr. Green of the devices. "You will find these to be helpful in your task. One is specifically tuned to the Target's magic, capable of rendering it useless for a time, but take care; it has limited charges. The other is a sort of beacon. Activate it, and help will arrive; the Interested Party will have an Individual be able to stay 'close' to you, but not too close; this beacon will call in said help, but know that it will take time. It is stressed: choose your opportunity carefully."

Mr. Green pushed the devices forward. Soleil collected them from the table and pocketed them.

"Where take? Once capture?"

Mr. Green told her. Then added, "I understand that there will be some difficulties with that, and so does the Interested Party. Hence that beacon device. Be sure to use it."

"Likely long time, transport. How keep subdued?"

"Again, the aid summoned by the beacon device. But...if you're asking my advice, there are some lesser known...substances...which could be crafted from alchemical ingredients. That is all I will say free of charge. You're a smart girl. Look into it."

Soleil nodded. All the questions she needed answered had been so. The deal was straightforward, not overly complicated at all, and an opportunity she had long, long been waiting for. Even if things did not go according to plan, she had options. The Academy had become weak, and she no longer respected nor feared its wrath. All she wanted could be hers and nothing could stop her.

After these considerations, Soleil said, "I agree to terms."

Mr. Green, thereupon, pulled out a knife and rolled up the sleeve of his robe. "Then our pact is sealed, and I hereby bind you to it."

And with the knife he carved a strange, coded series of symbols into the flesh of his arm. No blood ran from the cuts, and a faint sulfuric odor drifted in the air before quickly fading.