Chapter 18: You’re Adopted

Most of Saimonica’s northernmost provinces were given over to agriculture, as the warmer climate was ideal for many crops that couldn’t be grown elsewhere such as coffee beans or citrus fruits. There was one province in particular however, nestled in the gently sloping mountain ranges near the Equatorial Sea, that was famous for a different reason.

The entirety of Tohkal Province was a blessed land, at least according to the High Breeders. The valleys, consecrated as a sidereal dominion of the Gods, were under vine and produced vast quantities of sacred wine from a half-dozen wineries. This wine was fundamental in several important Church rituals and could not be sold to the public; instead the Church purchased it in bulk at rates far below its market value. Thanks to that arrangement, the noble Tohkal family maintained a tidy little business that, while not massively profitable, was steady and virtually immune to economic capriciousness.

And for a thousand years, it was good.

However, the newest lord of Tohkal shook things up in a bad way. Xesar Tohkal, whose full name contained a great many noble titles not worth mentioning, had been elevated to the position when his father passed away from a sudden illness; the boy was barely into his teens, well-versed in a life of decadent luxury but entirely ignorant in matters of state. And so he relished his newfound power and freedom, holding many ostentatious parties, festivals and balls for nobles from neighboring provinces to boost his own social fortunes.

However, his sources of income were limited. While the Church’s regular bulk purchase of wine gave him a steady stream of gold, and he collected a meager amount of taxes from the province’s few villages, his desire for ostentation far outstripped his means. By the time he reached his 25^th year, he had incurred a debt so massive it would have taken him a century to pay it off in full, save some miraculous financial windfall.

Debt collectors cared little for noble titles, and it wasn’t long before poor young Xesar Tohkal felt the bankers’ teeth at his throat. To escape his self-inflicted misfortune, he came up with what he regarded as a brilliant plan: he would simply start charging the Church market rates for sacred wine, instead of the bulk rates they presently paid. After all, the Church was awash in more gold than they knew what to do with. Surely they wouldn’t mind throwing a little extra his way?

The Church disagreed. Although they could easily afford the increased rates, they refused Xesar on principle; they were not wont to allow some pissant young rural noble to order them around. Xesar, in turn, cut off the supply of sacred wine to the Church, figuring if he played hardball they would eventually capitulate.

So the Church decided to assassinate him.

Xesar had no sons, only a young daughter who could not inherit his noble title. Therefore, if killed with no clear successor, the Supreme Breeder would be within his right to install a new noble, one hand-picked to be more loyal. Although the Church had assassins of their own they could send, they were adamant that the killing not be traceable back to them, at least not directly. As such, they decided to hire an assassin through the Adventurer’s Guild.

‘Adventurer’ was a heroic-sounding euphemism for mercenary, the kind of well-practiced martial talent you might hire if you needed a dangerous monster exterminated or a bratty noble killed. The Guild’s seedy reputation was bolstered by the Hero’s membership, which served the dual purpose of (ostensibly) keeping the Hero politically separated from the Saimonican government and inspiring many a bright-eyed youth to become Adventurers themselves, seeking the same fame and fortune the Hero enjoyed.

Nilah had been one such bright-eyed youth, once upon a time. Yet after forty years of actively working as an Adventurer, she was jaded and tired. Her face was careworn, covered in crags and scars, and her once-glossy black hair was now grey from stress. Still, her body of experience was beyond reproach, with her record of assassinations showing she never, ever missed a single mark. This earned her many monikers… Nilah the Bloodletter, Nilah the Reaper, Nilah the Invisible Blade. It was said once she marked you for death, not even the Gods could stave off your inevitable fate. On reputation alone, this was the assassin the Church requested to put down young Xesar.

Nilah was given very little information about her target, simply his location and a few scant details about the reason behind the contract. In this instance, the Church claimed he ‘committed heresy.’ Nilah knew better than to pry apart that flimsy cover story and simply took the job, since the pay was extremely good, though she couldn’t shake her sense of foreboding regarding the whole affair.

And that was how Nilah found herself deep in Tohkal province, her armor and skin covered in mud and leaves, creeping through the vineyards while approaching Xesar’s mansion. Being located far to the north of the Demon Realm yet not quite northerly enough to fall under threat by coastal pirates, Tohkal was not a heavily militarized area; towns had a local guardsman or two, and Xesar’s manor had a half-dozen. For one as experienced in bushwork as Nilah, it was a simple task to approach the mansion entirely unseen.

As the mansion came into view, Nilah perched herself in a nearby tree and cast a farsight spell on her eyes, telescopically scoping out the defenses. She tutted disapprovingly upon seeing only four guards on duty; two at the entrance, two more patrolling the top of the wall that surrounded the estate. There were a few back entrances for servants and the like, which were protected only by locks and deadbolts… not much of an obstacle for Nilah.

Next she shifted to manasight, checking the mansion for magical wards. There was a basic barrier, a weak shield composed of crimson mana; the shield naturally had openings by the main and staff entrances, without anything so much as an alarm spell to prevent unauthorized access. All-in-all, an exceptionally shoddy set of defenses.

Nilah wondered to herself why this particular job paid so well, given the laughably poor security around her target. Then she decided not to second-guess it too much; an easy paycheck was fine by her. After observing the guards’ patrol patterns for a while longer, she cast an invisibility spell on herself and beelined for the most remote of the staff entrances.

A quick unlocking spell later, and she was inside. She crept through the hallways with well-practiced silence, occasionally freezing when a maid or servant passed by. Her first real challenge, if one used that word generously, came when she approached the young lord’s quarters.

Two guards stood at attention on each side of the gold-inlaid double doors. They were apparently the elite of Tohkal’s men, in that they were not napping or shirking their duties. They were not, however, alert enough to notice the cloaked Nilah draw close to them.

Nilah wasn’t a particularly bloodthirsty assassin; she didn’t find killing anyone besides her target to be in keeping with her professional values. With a small whoosh-click, she deployed a small crossbow mounted to her right forearm, nocked a small fletched arrow into it, and with a barely audible ‘twang’ sent it flying into the neck of the farther guard.

A half-second later, the guard keeled over as a highly potent sleeping potion raced through his bloodstream. His companion looked over in surprise, about to cry out in alarm, when a second arrow embedded in his neck and he slumped to the ground, snoring loudly.

With the guards subdued, a mental clock began ticking down in Nilah’s subconscious. She figured she had about five minutes until one of the passing maids or servants discovered the sleeping guards or, should she take the time to hide them, the absence of guards. Nilah dismissed her invisibility spell, enhanced her body with warrior magic and opened the doors to Xesar’s room. To her surprise, they weren’t even locked.

Xesar was sitting at his desk, looking disheveled and clutching a half-empty bottle of whisky. Nilah closed the distance between them in a quarter-second, fluidly drawing a knife and thrusting it through the bottom of his chin, up through his nasal cavity and into his brain. Xesar was dead before he felt any pain.

Nodding to herself, Nilah pulled her blade out and wiped it clean. Then, maneuvering Xesar’s body onto the carpet, she drew another serrated blade and began to separate his head from his neck. Depending on the assassination contract, the client would require proof of the target’s death… and in this instance, the Church had asked for Xesar’s head. As she was about halfway through the task, she heard a soft rustling coming from the room’s door. Swearing to herself, she turned around, lowered herself into a combat stance.

Standing in the doorway was a little girl, not more than five, with wide and unblinking eyes.

“Did you just kill Daddy?” she asked in a too-calm tone.

“…Shit,” Nilah replied.

******

As Nilah crested a hill some dozen miles away, she heard a loud boom… and turned to see the mansion in flames. With Xesar dead, the Church had apparently taken the opportunity to clean up any loose ends, and they worked quickly.

“Dunno why they bothered to hire me in the first place…” Nilah grumbled.

She felt a tug on her pants leg, and looked down to see the little girl staring up at her with wide eyes.

“My house exploded!” she said matter-of-factly.

“Yes it did,” Nilah replied. “Wasn’t me this time, I promise.”

“Aww…” she complained, “I wanna see more stuff explode, though!”

“Maybe another time, kid.” Nilah replied, figuring they’d better get some distance from Tohkal Province quickly, before any Church soldiers caught up to them. “Hey, you want a piggyback ride?”

The excitement that lit up the child’s eyes was the only affirmation Nilah needed. She swept up the child onto her back and, after stretching her legs a bit, began the multi-day trek back to Arcryid.

******

“Who’s the kid?” asked Melvohn, head of the Arcryid branch of the Adventurer’s Guild, as Nilah stormed into his office with a little girl in her arms. Melvohn had the air of an organized crime boss about him, which was usually sufficient to intimidate most unruly Adventurers into behaving, but Nilah afforded him only the slimmest amount of respect.

“THIS,” she spat in a tone seething with anger, “is Xesar Tohkal’s daughter, Xennia.”

“Oh, shit,” Melvohn gasped.

“Shit INDEED,” Nilah responded, carefully placing the wide-eyed child down on a chair adjacent to Melvohn’s desk. “What the fuck happened, Melvohn? You KNOW I don’t take jobs where kids are involved.”

Melvohn groaned apologetically. “I know, I know. The Church never mentioned he had a daughter. If I’d realized I would’ve given the job to someone else.”

Nilah ground her teeth together. “Those fucking Church dogs omitted information. That’s a breach of contract. For fuck’s sake, this poor kid walked in on me sawing off her father’s head. Cheers, by the way,” Nilah said, tossing a sack containing Xesar’s head onto Melvohn’s desk.

Melvohn swooped up the sack and deposited it in one of his desk drawers. “I really am sorry, Nilah. I didn’t know, I promise.” He was quite used to Nilah’s quirks by this point, her curious fits of morality in an otherwise bloody business, and he respected her enough to never cross her boundaries.

“That’s not all, Melvohn. An hour after I did the deed, they BLEW UP THE FUCKING MANSION!” Nilah growled, before sinking into another chair and heaving a tired sigh. “If I hadn’t gotten her out in time, she’d be dead just like all the poor, innocent servants and maids in there.”

“Holy shit,” Melvohn marveled, covering his mouth with his hand. “They really didn’t want any loose ends on this one, huh?”

“No fucking kidding,” Nilah groaned. “Dunno why they bothered to hire me in the first place if they were just gonna torch everything.”

“Maybe for the guarantee?” Melvohn offered. “An assassin is generally more reliable than an explosion for confirmed kills.”

Nilah’s face twisted into a hateful grimance. “True enough, but they still should have disclosed that in the contract. Now this poor kid is probably traumatized for life.”

“I’m not traumatized!” Xennia offered in a peppy tone completely at odds with the prevailing mood of the room. “Daddy was a bad man. I’m glad he’s dead. And explosions are really cool to watch! KA-POWWWW!” She flailed her arms wide, mimicking an explosion.

Nilah and Melvohn turned to stare at her, jaws slack. “Bad man? What do you mean by that?” Melvohn asked carefully, fearing the worst kind of answer.

Xennia folded her arms and pouted. “He hated me because he wanted a son. He ignored me, left me locked in my room, except when he was drunk and angry. Then he hit me and yelled at me a lot.”

“Huh,” Melvohn said, secretly a bit relieved. “Well, there you have it, Nilah. The dude was human scum. Everything worked out!”

Nilah exploded in rage, although it wasn’t the kind of explosion Xennia liked to watch. “Worked out my MOTHERFUCKING ASS! Did you not hear the part about the mansion’s staff dying senselessly in a fiery inferno?! Gods, I am… I’m fucking done, Melvohn. I want out.”

“Out of Church contracts? Or out of the Adventurer’s Guild altogether?” Melvohn asked, sitting back in his chair and steepling his fingers.

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Nilah sighed. “Out of any Church contracts, and out of the assassination contracts too. I want some nice, easy job where I can retire and take it easy, gathering herbs or some shit. I’m tired, Melvohn, and this was the last straw.”

“You must be joking, Nilah,” Melvohn said disbelievingly. “You’re Saimonica’s most notorious assassin, and you want a career change?”

“I’m fifty-five years old, Melvohn. I’m sick of killing and death and all that shit. I want to retire, buy a nice house where I can sit on the porch in a rocking chair and yell at the youngsters. I want peace and quiet.”

Melvohn realized she wasn’t kidding. He’d seen Adventurers burn out before; if he didn’t honor her request, she’d vanish entirely and the Guild would lose one of its finest. It would be an unconscionable waste of her skills.

“Fine, fine,” he relented. “I have something in mind. The Crucible is looking for a swordsmanship instructor, if you don’t mind tending to a bunch of bratty teenagers all day.”

The Crucible was a martial academy located in the southern fortress-town of Lyzikanth, practically within walking distance of the Anti-Demon Wall. It was run by the Adventurer’s Guild, and focused on training future young Adventurer hopefuls. Graduating from the Crucible meant a guaranteed posting in the Guild, and a steady stream of well-paying jobs thereafter.

Nilah thought about that for a moment. Despite its location, Lyzikanth was a fairly peaceful town; the demons never crossed the Wall, and the worst public disturbance was usually rowdy, drunk soldiers. She envisioned herself yelling at a bunch of starry-eyed teenagers, pounding the basics of swordsmanship into them. It didn’t quite suit her, but…

“I’ll take it,” she said. “I need a change of pace, and that sounds nice.”

Melvohn nodded. “Alright, I’ll make the arrangements. What about the kid? I can forge some papers and get her into an orphanage in the nicer part of the Outer District.”

“No way!” Xennia screeched. “I want to go with Nilah! She’s got a bad mouth, but she’s really nice on the inside. She gives me candy and tucks me into bed and sings me weird drinking songs to help me sleep!”

Melvohn managed to hold back his laughter for about three seconds, sputtering futilely, before bursting into loud guffaws. “Hahaha! Did you hear that, Nilah? You’re nice on the inside!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Nilah responded tartly. “Kid, look… you can’t come with me. I’m… I’m not a good person. I’ve killed hundreds of people. An orphanage would be better for you.”

“Nuh-uh!” Xennia responded, sticking out her tongue. “I wanna stay with the cool assassin lady. You pretend to be mean, but it’s an act. You’re actually a good person! I’m a kid, so I can tell.” She nodded sagely, satisfied with herself.

Melvohn’s guffaws grew louder, and he clenched his gut. “L-Looks like you’ve adopted a daughter, Nilah,” he said in between wheezes. “And I th-thought you’d never settle down!”

Nilah flipped him off, and emphasized every word of her response. “Shut. The. FUCK. Up.”

******

Nilah stared at the two-story house, constructed of wood and nestled up against Lyzikanth’s outermost wall. It was far enough away from the city center that rowdy soldiers hardly ever came this way, which translated to a (relatively) quiet neighborhood. The house itself was a bit run-down, but nothing a bit of elbow grease and paint couldn’t fix.

“So, kiddo, waddya think?” she said, turning to Xennia.

“Looks good to me!” the child said excitedly. “Can I have a room on the second floor?”

Nilah nodded. “Sure, but you gotta help me paint it first. And get furniture in there too. You sure this house is fine, though? Aren’t you used to living in a mansion?”

Xennia’s face twisted into a frown. “They never let me out of my room. You’re much more fun than those crusty old maids because you let me do things and have fun!”

Nilah chuckled. “We’ll see how much you like me when I send you off to grammar school next week.”

Xennia stuck out her tongue. “I don’t wanna go to school! I wanna be an assassin like Nilah!”

“No you fu… freaking don’t,” Nilah responded, making an effort to rein in her usual cursing now that she had a young charge following her around; she had to at least try and set a good example for the tyke. “Adventuring sucks, trust me. You’re young and I can afford to send you to school, so take this chance to learn, like… math and stuff. Then you can get a respectable job and have a better life than me.”

Xennia folded her arms and pouted. “I’ll learn math if you tell me to, but I still wanna be an Adventurer.”

Nilah groaned and rolled her eyes. “We gotta get you some better role models, kid. Better than me, anyway. Shall we take a look inside?” She pulled the house key out of her pocket and motioned to the front door.

“Yeah! Let’s go explore our new home!”

*******

Xennia (who no longer used her surname) began attending school the next week, and despite her initial protestations had a blast. After five years of sheltered isolation she relished the opportunity to make new friends, and her happiness abounded. The sight warmed Nilah’s heart.

A few weeks after that, Nilah began her teaching position at The Crucible. She had no idea how to teach, of course, although she did know quite a bit about swordsmanship and fighting styles. She figured she’d just wing it.

This plan fell apart the instant she looked into the eyes of her first class, a dozen rowdy teenagers. The kind of teens who attended the Crucible would be considered delinquents in other schools; in the end, adventuring was a profession taken up by the violent, the desperate and the dreamers.

“Right, so. I’m Nilah, your swordsmanship instructor,” she said to the teens, fixing them with a steely glare. “Firstly, let’s get one thing straight. I’m not here to teach you fancy bladework or ceremonial martial arts or any of that shit. No, what I’m gonna show you is how to protect yourself, and how to win a fight. You’ll use every dirty trick in the book when swordfighting, so if any of you gremlins has a misplaced sense of honor, or delusions of becoming some heroic holy knight, expunge that shit from your brain RIGHT now. If you wanna live, you listen to what I say. If you wanna die, well. There’s the door.”

That little spiel won Nilah the rapt attention of her class, and their focused gazes unsettled her a bit. To take the pressure off, she decided to start with introductions.

“Uh, hmm. Gimme your names, please. Starting with you.” She pointed at a girl in the front row, a tough-looking redhead with a wide grin. Nilah noticed offhandedly she was missing both of her front teeth.

“Hiya!” said the redhead cheerfully. “My name is Nyze!”

*******

“Whoa whoa whoa, hold up,” Metokai interrupted, her eyes narrowing in the orange glare of the campfire. “You were missing your TEETH?!”

Nyze, Metokai, Valex and Rixu were all camping out in the wilderness after sneaking past the Anti-Demon Wall, with plans to enter Lyzikanth the following day. Metokai had obviously never been to the human fortress town, and both Rixu and Valex had only passed through briefly, but Nyze had lived there for several years while attending the Crucible. Ergo, when asked what the town was like, she naturally launched into a reminiscing story; she was a good storyteller, so the others listened intently.

“Yeah, I was missing my two front teeth back then,” Nyze confirmed. “I got into a fight when I was twelve and they were knocked out. Hurt like a bitch, too.”

Metokai smirked. “It’s hard to imagine anyone being powerful enough to land a solid hit on you, much less knock out your teeth. Myself excepted, of course.”

Nyze licked her lips and grinned. “Yeah, well. You should see what I did to the other guy.”

“Why didn’t you get a healer to fix your teeth?” Valex asked curiously.

Nyze rolled her eyes. “Ah, the ignorant question of someone who grew up wealthy in the Central District. Healers cost money, Valex, and I didn’t have any at the time.”

Valex tilted her head. “Your parents couldn’t help you out?”

“No fucking way,” Nyze replied with three hints of bitterness. “I don’t have the best relationship with my parents, mostly because they’re huge assholes. It’ll be a cold day in Yandar before I go to THEM begging for help. After I started working as an Adventurer, I saved up the money myself to get them fixed.”

Metokai shook her head sadly. “I’ll never understand the concept of charging people for healthcare. It seems downright cruel.”

“You got THAT right,” Rixu said acidly. “All the nobles and High Breeders and rich merchants can afford first-class healing magic, but the poor have to beg for charity healing at the Creation Halls. It’s an inhumane system designed to punish the lower class.”

“Prosperity gospel at its most vile,” Metokai agreed. “On an unrelated note, serpent, up until that last scene you were describing events for which you were not present.”

“I’ll say,” Valex added. “I was beginning to wonder what any of this had to do with you.”

Metokai continued, “How are you narrating those events with such detail if you weren’t there?”

Nyze shrugged. “I mean, I heard about all this stuff secondhand. I’m filling in the gaps with my own imagination and embellishing the tale to make it more compelling. Isn’t that the nature of storytelling?”

“True enough, serpent,” Metokai replied, half-smiling.

“ANYway, getting back the story,” Nyze said, and the other three leaned in to resume listening to her. “I was an egotistic young teen back then, all swagger and no skill. I thought I was hot shit, much like every teenager does. It didn’t take long for Nilah to shatter my pride to pieces and start rebuilding me as an actual, competent swordswoman. The moment of truth came on the second week of her class, when we were training in the rain…”