William Anderson
Stories
6
Chapters
2,147
Words
340.2 K
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Reading
1 d, 4 h
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Muchen woke to the sight of a man standing atop a sword, flying through the distant sky. The sword cut through the air with the sort of speed he usually associated with a jet airplane. After only a few heartbeats, both sword and man were little more than a blurry dot off in the distance. Muchen watched the dot dwindle in size until he was distracted by a sharp headache and a flood of memories. It hurt. His first instinct was to throttle back the flow and focus on the here and now. He stared at his hand…-
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She nodded as if it was perfectly logical that such a request involved an attempt to bisect me. I suppose it does make sense to me too. It might have even seemed reasonable had they not chosen to intrude upon my home. Perhaps this doesn't resonate with you, or it might even seem irrational, but I've been a part of the Vorgan for several years, and in our culture, you simply don't do that. "Will you?" she asked. "Stay out of his affairs? Not anymore," I declared. She chuckled slightly. Her eyes were a…
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That would have been the case, if only. They arrived at my apartment shortly after I returned from my meeting with Drevolan. I answered the door following an authoritative knock. There were three of them, all men, all Dragonlords, two of them armed. The third said, "Your name is Dravos." He uttered it as if he'd read it but never heard it, from which I could infer something probably beneficial. "Close enough," I responded. Opal swiftly landed on my shoulder. I was anxious, even a bit scared.…
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My gaze kept returning to those tentacles, as if they were a mystery to be solved, revealing—what? "Dragons are more complex than they appear, aren't they, Boss?" "I was just contemplating the same thing." "Especially Drevolan." "Indeed." "Did you notice what he didn't ask about?" "Yes. He never inquired about the stolen weapon." "You're smarter than they give you credit for, Boss." "Hold that thought, Opal. Instead, tell me what you think it implies." "That he already knew about the…
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"Lord Drevolan awaits in the library," Lady Eldora informed me, offering a drink to pass the time. "Of course." She led me through a spiraling staircase to the library. After a brief absence, she returned with a glass of red wine. It was slightly too warm and had a strong tannin flavor, but I still appreciated it. I had visited this library before and, while waiting, I browsed some books. Most were about history or magic. A few on the Terran caught my eye, especially two written by Noir Myst, a name I…
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If it feels like I was over-analyzing things, you're not wrong. And while events proved my instincts correct, I've been off the mark before. Those instances just don't make intriguing tales. "Got the information, Viktor," Thorne began. "Took you a while," I retorted, partly out of annoyance. "And if I had instantly given you a name?" I'd have probably chided him for not investigating further. Sometimes, accepting you're cornered is the best move. "Well done," I conceded. "Thanks. Let's…
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* * * We'd nearly bridged the gap between us when they started sprinting. For a moment, I believed they'd halt and get into a defensive stance, waiting for our move, just like we had when they came at us. In hindsight, that might've been wiser. They were armed with spears, and a steady stance with those weapons could have made things difficult for us. However, their strategy was different—they charged straight toward us, perhaps thinking we might get cold feet and retreat. It wasn't the best tactical…
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"Why does he have these?" "I wonder why the Baelis even created them." "You're clueless, Viktor?" "Indeed. Enlighten me?" "Well, Terran legends claim a Baelis smith crafted them to make wars so devastating that none would dare wage one." I chuckled. "Really? They thought that would work?" "It did." "How?" "Among the Baelis." "I see." "Shall we proceed?" "I'm not sure I can." "That's a concern." "It is." We lingered awkwardly. "Should we turn back?" Thorne inquired. "No, we…
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"What's on your mind?" he asked. "I was just reflecting." "Isn't that a solitary activity?" "Wait, is there someone else here?" "You're quite the comedian, Viktor." "Regardless," I said, resurrecting the abandoned conversation, "it's a lucrative venture." Thorne emitted an indescribable sound. I could tell Opal was suppressing several comments. Apparently, I have a knack for attracting people who consider me a fool, which probably reveals something profound about my character. "So," I posed,…
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"Excuse me," I interjected. "Yes?" "Forget it. Nice to meet you, Kuragin." "The feeling is mutual, my lord." "Boss, you've been employed." "Well, yes. More like conscripted, really." "You should instruct him to never use this power for ill intentions." "I'll remember that." It also dawned on me that it would now be trickier, being somewhat in his employ, to resist seeking the information he desired. Hopefully, I'd get lucky, and nobody would attempt to steal any of the weapons. Something…
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