Sorcerer's Shadow

Chapter 58: Return

Keep moving. Stay alert.

A faint illumination seemed to emanate from the soil beneath us, or possibly from the surrounding air, I couldn't quite tell. It was just enough light to guide our steps. The duration of our journey through the forest? Who knows? My sense of time was utterly skewed at that point.

Stay alert. Keep moving.

Every now and then, we would halt, and Thaleia and Drevolan would discuss quietly which path to take. I suspect they feared we were aimlessly circling. When this occurred, Opal would instruct, "Tell them to go that way, chief," and I'd point accordingly. I suppose by then, they'd come to trust me. Only the gods knew why.

At one juncture, Drevolan confessed, "I feel peculiar."

Thaleia inquired, "What's wrong?"

"I can't exactly pinpoint. Something's odd."

"Viktor, what did you administer to him?"

I could only shake my head. Speaking required too much effort. Besides, what had I given him? Ah, yes. Goddess blood, if Liora was to be believed. Why had I done that? Because the alternative was to let Drevolan perish.

But, then again, why should I care? What had he done for me? Saved my life, yes, but only because I was under his employment. Friend? Preposterous. Certainly not an Imperion. Or a Dragonlord, for that matter.

Then why? It didn't matter anymore; it was done. And I was too exhausted to dwell on it.

Keep moving. Stay alert.

Later on, Thaleia spoke up, "I'm starting to feel it too. Do you want to rest?"

Drevolan replied, "If we halt, Viktor will fall asleep, and we'll lose him."

Thaleia seemed to accept this response, which took me aback. But then again, why were they trying so hard to save me? And why had I been so sure they would? They were Dragonlords, and I was a Vorgan; they were Imperions, and I was human. None of it added up.

Thaleia queried, "How are you feeling?"

I was unable to reply, but it turned out she was addressing Drevolan. He responded, "I'm not sure how to express it. It's as if I'm simultaneously lighter and heavier, and the air has a different taste. I wonder what he administered to me?"

"If we survive this," Thaleia remarked, "we can question him later."

Stay alert. Keep moving.

The forest seemed to stretch on infinitely.

* * * *

Eradicating Fend was one of the simplest tasks I've ever accomplished. For someone who garnered enemies as rapidly as he did, one would think he'd have been more cautious. But he was new to overseeing an area, and I guess he was one of those individuals who believed, "It won't happen to me."

I've got news for you, pal: It can.

He was always a night owl, maintaining his own financial records to ensure no one was duping him of even a penny. One day, as he was engrossed in his ledgers, I slipped in unnoticed with a stiletto in my grasp. He only registered my presence when I was right before him, by which time it was far too late. No hassle at all.

By the time his body was discovered, I'd already claimed his office. Why? I'm not sure. I suppose I decided I'd rather be my own boss than work for anyone else I could think of.

* * * *

I can't pinpoint the moment we exited the forest, but I do remember being carried through a cavern. Drevolan tells me I directed them to it, but I can't confirm that. The next vivid memory I have is of lying supine, gazing up at the warm, orange-red Imperion sky, and hearing Drevolan announce, "Okay, I know where we are."

A teleportation must have followed, but I have no recollection of it, which is probably for the best.

* * * *

Thorne quickly joined me when I took over from Tagichatin and, much to my surprise and delight, Voltaire showed more allegiance to me than I expected from a former employer. Naturally, I faced some obstacles in the beginning, as a few in my organization struggled to take a Terran seriously as a boss.

I managed to change their perceptions without resorting to lethal means, which I consider quite an achievement. In fact, I encountered no significant issues while overseeing my areauntil a certain point-man named Ignar had to spoil it all.

* * * *

Alyssra Volade, the Sorceress, the Shadow Lady of Pardus Mountain, scrutinized me from beneath her eyelashes. I found myself wondering why she hadn't inquired about what I'd given Drevolan, and came to the conclusion that she either surmised its nature or knew I wouldn't divulge it. I was feeling defiant, though the reason eluded me. It might have been linked to being helped out of the Paths of the Dead by Drevolan and Thaleia, I couldn't say for certain.

The pair in question were observing Alyssra's expression as they concluded their story. We were seated, quite at ease, in the library at Pardus Mountain. Abbe was serving wine, blinking profusely, and noisily smacking his lips.

"I am satisfied," Alyssra finally stated. "Thaleia, your services are demanded by the Empire."

"So I've been informed," Thaleia responded.

"What are we then, grilled galethna?"

"Quiet, Opal," I intervened, though I found myself aligning with his feelings.

"And, Viktor," Alyssra continued, "I owe you a debt. And I do not express that lightly. If you believe this can't benefit you, you are mistaken."

Drevolan added, "Her words echo my own sentiments."

I retorted, "So, I'm mistaken?"

He didn't reply. Thaleia said, "I owe you a favor, too. Perhaps one day, I'll repay you."

I wet my lips. Was there an undertone of threat in her words? If so, what was the reason? All eyes were on me, save for Abbe, who seemed preoccupied with searching for bugs in a corner. I was at a loss for words, so I blurted, "Alright. Can I leave now?"

I managed to recover most of the money Ignar had stolen, so I suppose that was a decent outcome. I don't believe it tarnished my reputation. I've encountered Drevolan a few times since then, and he's tolerable for an Imperion. He proposed a gathering with Alyssra and Thaleia on a few occasions, but I think I'll decline for now.

I informed Liora that I'd misplaced the bottle, but surprisingly, she didn't seem upset. I've yet to reveal to Drevolan what was inside. Whenever he probes, I just give him a smug grin. Maybe one day I'll reveal it to him. Or perhaps I won't.