Reborn From the Cosmos

"Is it to your liking, my lady?"

The young noblewoman becomes even more flustered when I don't answer immediately, continuing to circle her as I scrutinize her new appearance. Leena Teppin wants to work for me to save money for her future. While I have my doubts about how useful she'll be, any failings on her part will not be because I didn't give her the tools she needs to do her job. Including rectifying her miserable appearance.

It's not her fault; I doubt anyone aside from my wife could look good after spending weeks in a dark room, besieged by anxiety, with minimal ability to care for herself. Saints, that'd even tax Kierra's ridiculous beauty and pure affinity. I gave her over to Talia to see what my flower could do for her.

I expected something decent. She's better than decent; I'd even call her cute. Her dark blonde hair has been washed, combed, and expertly braided with a ribbon wrapped around it. Her face is clean and dewy, with no traces of the dark circles that graced it the last time I saw her. Talia's found her a dress that might have been a size too big, I can tell from how the skirt drapes on her, but a corset over the top tucks it in, making it fashion rather than scrounging.

But the biggest difference is her eyes. Hope and determination has replaced gloom, even if the fear remains.

I nod to myself. I don't mind her representing me.

"You clean up well."

"Thank you, my lady."

"Well." I give the poor girl a reprieve and step back to my desk, sitting behind it as I lace my fingers. "We should talk about your duties."

She stiffens, her spine as straight as a soldier about to march to war. Pfft. She's going to be disappointed.

"I assume you've been taught to schmooze?"

"Schmooze?"

"You know, flatter and fawn over important people and people who think they're important to get what you want."

"Ah. Yes, my lady."

"Good. You mentioned being able to help me find those who'd be helpful in rebuilding the city. While I can't name names, I'd bet my last crown that anyone who's anyone and hasn't left the city is holed up at the Feathers. So, that's where you'll be going."

"Of course."

I idly tap the table, noting with amusement, and a little guilt, how she twitches with every soft click of my nail hitting the wood. "Your first step is to meet with Marcella Guiness. If I know that family, they're already ahead of us in sinking their perfectly manicured nails into the rich and influential. If she doesn't already have them in their grasp, she'll know where they are."

Leena's lips twitch.

"Go ahead if you have an opinion."

"…what if she opposes you?"

I laugh and the fear in her eyes blossoms. Saints preserve her, this girl isn't going to last long if everything I do makes her jump. "She won't, trust me. Too smart for that. No, what you need to watch out for is making promises. She's going to fall in line, but she'll want as many benefits as she can get."

"Do I…can I make promises in your name?"

"Nope! But it'll make everything awkward if she gets you to do so anyway."

"I would never."

"Sure, sure. And what happens when she pouts and asks you to put in a good word with me?"

"I can't!" Behind her panic is the unspoken harsh truth that her words mean nothing beyond my amusement.

"We know, but she doesn't. After all, I'm sending you to speak on my behalf. And I do have a reputation."

She looks at me, blushes, then blanches. Should I be offended?

"No need to look so horrified. It's very simple. You're there to get information. Nothing else. Don't make any deals. Don't promise anything. Schmooze, get my list, and get back here. Oh, there's no time limit. If you need to, you can stay at the hotel. I'll pay for it, but don't get greedy."

She shakes her head. "I'd rather return. I'm concerned about leaving my sister alone."

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"Then you'll return. Gajin will drive you there and Nomad will bring you back at…sunset? Yeah." I grimace. "You probably haven't seen Nomad. He's…unusual, but he's good. I only mention it because if there's a problem, you need to run straight to my servants. While I don't think there's anyone in this city crazy enough to test me, again, they're more than enough to handle a few rebels or whatever else."

"Yes, my lady."

"Alright. Go get something to eat and let Earl know when you're ready to go. I expect good results."

She bows her head and scampers from the room.

Not that long ago, I would have been afraid to look that girl in the eye.

A knock on the door interrupts me before I can get lost in my thoughts. Geneva appears in the doorway, pink eyes trained on me as her lips curve into a sweet smile.

"Our newest guests have woken up, my summoner."

"You could have just called," I say as I stand, following her as she leads the way out of the study.

"Yes, but you were having so much fun flexing your newfound authority."

"I wouldn't say fun…"

She flashes me a knowing look over her shoulder that I ignore. Once more, we return to the servant's wing, which I increasingly struggle not to think of as a prison, albeit a nice one. Earl must have cleaned the place out this morning, as the windows are open and the air faintly smells of soap. I briefly hear Rey's raised voice as we pass by her room but there's no time to check on the crazy pirate. Geneva opens one of the doors and steps inside; I pause in the doorway. Normally, these rooms all look the same, but this one has been redecorated. As in, everything but the three chairs my unwilling guests are tied to and a small table that holds a small burning candle has been removed, making the space seem larger.

To the left is Sin, the bandit leader sounding amused as he throws polite insults at the other two. In the middle sits Jacoby, looking every one of his years and rather annoyed. And finally, to the right is Grayskin, still obviously injured but the most composed.

All three look over when the door opens but only Sin is happy to see me; a bit unsettling, that. No one should wear such a carefree smile while in enemy's hands.

"Ah, our captor," he says as if he's greeting an old friend. "Have you come to torture us yourself or to watch?"

The other two don't offer anything but glares.

"Hopefully, there isn't any torture." I close the door, deepening the room's shadows. "Welcome to my temporary home. You have two choices. The first, give me what I want. If you do, I'll feed you the best food you've ever had, pour you some good drink, and send you on your way in the morning. I'll even put in a good word for you at the camp, if you wanted to try reuniting with the rest of the hunters. Except you, Sin. You…I'd have to think about it, but I'm open to sparing your life."

"How magnanimous."

"And if we don't?" Jacoby asks.

"Yes, option two. You don't tell me what I want." I point to Geneva. "While rampant use of the mental affinity disgusts me, I do make exceptions for important matters. Matters like the Authority. So, while it will give me no pleasure, I will give you to the succubus. I will still learn what I want to know. And then, depending on what she finds, I will either bury you or send you away without a nice dinner. Honestly, couldn't tell you which one is worst. Her cooking is truly to die for."

"You…do you think this is a game?" Jacoby says in a tone I recognize as an elder talking down to someone.

"Do you?" I scoff. "You're still playing secret society when people are dying. What do you think is going to happen? I'll play the part of the clueless noble, you'll rebuild the guilds, and things will go back to the way they were?"

"That would be for the best," Jacoby bit out.

"You'll have no luck convincing him otherwise, Lady Tome," Sin says cheerily. "The guilds have stubbornly clung to their traditions despite it poisoning them for generations."

"For good reason," the old man snaps. "The two of you have no idea what you're messing with. The Authority isn't something anyone should suggest. It's humanity's hope. Our legacy."

"Let me guess," I say playfully. "The founders left a cache of knowledge and weapons to their descendants to defend humanity in case of invasion of their new home or another Great War."

His wide-eyed look of surprise is almost insulting.

"Let me continue guessing. You hid it all this time to avoid any power coveting it or to keep humanity using it against themselves."

"If you know that much, then why are you doing this?!" the old man shouts.

"Because, you saints damned idiot, it's all pointless. My wife fought one of your best while he was wielding one of the artifacts in the Authority. A dark dagger that aided his null affinity."

"The Horizon Splitter," Grayskin says gravely. "It was lost."

"Pretty grand name for a pig sticker, but alright. Point is, Kii kicked his ass anyway. Humanity is so weak that even if you all wielded weapons carved from the bones of the saints and blessed by the glossiest one himself, you'd still be decimated. Really, what is wrong with you idiots? Who lets a cache of powerful weapons and ancient knowledge just go to waste for a dozen generations?"

"It was the order passed down by the guildmasters of old," Jacoby griped, not budging. "The Authority was not to be used unless humanity faced certain doom."

[My summoner, I have a suggestion.]

Go on.

[The Great War came to this continent. There are accounts of humanity defending its shores from the goblinoids.]

Yeah, sure.

[The mistress told of a magical fire that engulfed the Enchanted Forest, nearly spreading to her home.]

One our books make no mention of. I wonder if she's still bitter about that?

[Surely, the elves would have investigated the source of the blaze. They would have found humanity, the warriors who led their people to a new home and fought off the powerful manabeasts that already inhabited it. The ones who would be called saints and their disciples.]

Yeah…

[Might that have caught the attention of a certain group that is always in search of powerful mates and are drawn by conflict?]

…oh.

Oh.

That makes a horrifying amount of sense. If the continent was besieged by the Twilight elves and humanity's greatest were being spirited away, I can understand how this strange tradition came about. Fighting would have only encouraged them. So, they stopped fighting, made the Twilighters lose interest. But by then, the tradition of incompetence was so deeply rooted that humanity, the hunters especially, couldn't stop rolling downhill.

It's so feasible it feels like saintly revelation, the heroes of the past sharing their own experiences with me to enlighten those who've forgotten their true heritage.

And now I feel sorry for the bastards.