The Greyman Saga Ch. 04

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Author’s Note: Hey y’all! I realize this was up quick, but I took a little long on the last chapter so I wanted follow up faster than usual.

This chapter takes place immediately after the events of ch. 02, continuing the main story line with Miramae and Joran.

Small note- the Breach is called the Ba’rau. It was misspelled once during the last chapter so I wanted to clarify.

Enjoy the chapter! Favorite and Comment as always. It means a lot!!

Chapter 4

Friends, Beneficially:

“Don’t beg.”

I said the words harsher than I meant to, but I decided to hold my ground all the same. I was tired of the games. I was tired of being out of control. Miramae looked surprised at the sudden intensity of my statement, but she released her grip on my pants and sat back.

“Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

“Sorry. Ah…shit.” The Vermyr fiddled with her hair awkwardly, unsure of how to proceed without irritating me further.

That was fine by me. I needed a second to gather myself without her fluttering her eyelashes at me. I glanced at her, more out of impulse than anything else.

God. Dammit.

I needed a distraction. To give myself a job. Father did always used to say I was like a German Shepherd. Spoil me with downtime and I was a nightmare. Work me to the bone and I’d be your best friend.

I glanced at the window behind me, no longer lit by the sun’s rays. It was a good excuse to take my eyes off Miramae’s delightful lips. As I centered myself, she summoned her robe again. I don’t think she really wanted to, but she could see my current state of agitation and was trying to help appease it.

I tapped the knife at my waist pensively. There was still a chance there was more than just her and the Jollick around. I wouldn’t hurt to check the area. I had prepared ahead of time for a sensory spell anyway.

I pursed my lips in a sharp line if concentration, trying to decide which variant of the Twillic incantation I was going to use. There was no need for Seyori or for a repetitive pulse. A simple Andromai with a Deka display board channel would work.

Yes that would do quite nicely.

I placed my index finger on the ground in front of me and closed my eyes, concentrating. I felt a small ping of energy as I located the three perimeter ‘Skais’ blocks I’d placed earlier on the western edge of the property.

“Adromai, nevan oda. Deka ous.” I whispered the words, drawing my finger across the floor board as I joined the two additional markers I’d prepared.

There was a slight hum as I finished connecting the dots. I opened my eyes, looking down at the tablet I’d made. A triangle of blue light glowed brightly on the wooden floor, two small dots of shifting red light visible near the center.

“What is that?”

I felt my eye twitch, having briefly forgotten the Vermyr’s presence.

“It looks like the Witchcraft the Maiir taught me, but I’ve never seen it used like that…” She scooched forward, kneeling over the glowing display.

She pointed towards the red dots, turning her pale face towards me with a curious smile.

“Is that us?”

I nodded, scratching my jaw out of a passive need to move my hands.

“So you used Twill to make a giant radar around us? That’s amazing.” She looked truly in awe, her dark lips in excited grin as she returned to staring at the focused energy.

“Not exactly a radar. It doesn’t detect the physical.” I responded, still staring at the glowing dots. “I had to place several Twill Skais markers prior, and it’s set to only notice those with Ennem. Just Dreads.”

She nodded, then paused, a small frown forming over her face. I reached to my chest and pulled free the small black medallion that hung there, understanding the confusion.

“This is a Monji. It’s why there’s two readings.”

I saw her confusion alleviate, and grow simultaneously. I smirked.

“Never heard of a Monji?”

She shook her head. escort bayan beşiktaş I shifted, finding a slightly more comfortable sitting position and looked down at the black disc.

“Monji are a particularly troublesome kind of Dread. They’re fond of taking the form of jewelry and waiting to be worn by unsuspecting humans. They have a strong Ennem–” I halted my speech, giving her an unsure look, “You know what Ennem is right?”

She nodded.

“It’s just like another word for our aura right? Thats what the Witches who created the Breach called it, right?” She inched a little closer to me, but I didn’t mind.

It seemed her promiscuity was on hold for the time being and fairly unlikely at this point that she would do me harm. I gave her an appraising glance.

That would be a hell of a long con.

She stared at me, eyes full of innocent wonder and a surprising eagerness to learn.

“Yeah,” I said slowly, choosing the best words I could, “they’re fairly exchangeable terms, but yes, only those who belong to Edinmoor have what the Azzerai call Ennem. My sword, Melidyl’Silbaeon, has a type of Ennem because it was created in Lor, the old capital of Izanmoor. It also feasted on a litany of Dreads in Sungehi’s hands too, which created an unstable and inorganic Ennem Mass Peculiarity –but that’s whole other matter. You–” I pointed to her, “you certainly have Ennem. So does this Monji. But I don’t, even though I’ve damn near bathed in Dread blood, more than once. I have several different temporal signatures, but no Ennem.”

She nodded understanding, then wiggled a finger towards the amulet. I gave it a small shake, rembering what I’d started to say before rabbit trailing.

“Oh yeah. Sorry–Monji have a high concentration of Ennem, enough to mask a human scent. It stops other dreads from eating their chosen prey before the Monji can. Eventually, they pick a moment where their prey is particularly vulnerable and strike. But that’s not what’s important. What matters is, with the help of some very complex Twill, you can lock a Monji into its passive state. Then, voila, you have a walking camouflage against any Dread. You smell like them, and you ‘feel’ like one. It’s a handy tool.”

She gave an enthusiastic bob of agreement.

“Makes sense. I was really confused there for a moment, cause I can’t get life energy from Dreads and you had so much to dri–“

I held up my hand.

“We’re going avoid taking about the drinking, and the filling, and how much of it there was. Comprende?”

She did her best to look bashful as smiled sweetly at me, but I knew that she was suppressing another giggle.

“I will say though, I’m surprised at your interest in my scent over the Monji’s. It does put into perspective what you were struggling with.”

This time the flush of her cheeks was quite real, and she desperately attempted to avoid my eye contact. It felt good to be the one making her squirm.

Rising to my feet I flattened the creases in my pants and vest.

“In regard to you coming with me…” I let the words hang, watching her reaction, “It seems the best course for now. If you’re willing I’d like to take you back to Damoria with me. It might prove to be…a difficult process, but I think it’s the only way to proceed.”

“Difficult how?” There was an edge to her voice, but it was more nervous than anything else.

I sighed, resting my hands on my hips.

“You’re really fucking lucky it was me that find you. Most Greymen would have acted first and never worried about asking questions later. You’re a Dread. Greymen don’t have the luxury to hesitate against your kind.”

“But, you do?” She said curiously, her eyes narrowing.

“I do.”

Her eyes narrowed further. I could see the gears of her brain turning. There was silence for several seconds as she decided on her next words, which were surprisingly short and to the point.

“Why istanbul escort is that?”

I thought about the length of time it would take to explain. I could also give a somewhat short and egotistical response. A lecture on my abilities to leave her in awe.

Or…

I took a deep breath, focusing on the large tattoo that was etched across my back and the accompanying mental loops needed to engage the gate to Tasori. I felt the familiar surge of power, and with it the increase of my perception and senses. I felt my body stiffen, realizing the mistake I had made.

The smell of Miramae’s body was far harder to ignore while this was active. She may have tamed herself, but her now hidden crotch was still burning with arousal, and the liquids that soaked those soft lips smelled like something out of a dream. I clenched my fist. I needed to keep this brief.

I shifted left, moving with focused speed as I slid around Miramae. I wasn’t putting my all into it, but it was still enough leave behind a Tempo Ghost for a fraction of a fraction of a second. Twisting, I managed to cleanly swivel behind behind the Vermyr, coming to stop with my hands in my pockets as she lost sight of me. To her eyes, it would seem like I’d simply vanished.

“What the–” She stood up in startled surprise, looking left and right as she attempted to find me.

I leaned close to her left her ear.

“Boo.”

“FUCK!” She spun wildly, her hand swinging in a sharp strike out of pure instinct.

Good. This would help demonstrate things even faster.

Her eyes widened as she saw me. I could feel the muscles in her shoulder tensing, attempting to slow the blow, but it was too late. I let her fist make contact with my jaw, hearing the soft crunch as her wrist buckled. Even with her reducing the power, that blow would’ve taken an average human’s jaw right off.

Still, the ripple was heavier than I expected, and I felt a small twang of discomfort spread briefly across my cheek.

This Dread was strong. Elothin strong. Maybe stronger.

She had been right to correct my assumption that the Vermyr were weak.

“What the FUCK. What–what are you?!” Miramae’s voice was a mixture of relieved and terrified.

I chuckled, raising my right hand into the air and turning my palm towards her.

Time for a final demonstration.

I was having fun. I hadn’t had a reason to use any serious Twill in a while, let alone something that required gestured evocation. I flicked my pinky and ring finger downward and extended my thumb sharply.

“Div Verdaen, Skro.” I tapped her forehead before she could respond.

Bright yellow energy ripped out from my palm and the world spun rapidly, shifting and swirling yellow and orange as the universe disappeared from around us. I watched Miramae’s eyes bulge, and a moment later we were standing in a warm white room, gentle waves of golden energy dancing through the air. I stepped forward, tapping the Vermyr’s forehead again gently.

“Welcome to the ether,” I said casually,

“Shall I leave you in here, or do want to go back to your body?”

*

“That was…I can’t even explain–how?”

Miramae stared down at her feet, her knees tucked to her chest as we sat by the now lit fireplace in the living room.

I gave her a sympathetic smile, but to be honest, it had been nice to get a little payback. After returning from using Mental Coalescence, (tethering her mind to a constructed prison in my own mind briefly–Verdaen’Shinor in the words of the Azzerai) we’d moved the rest of our discussion to a more comfortable place.

The flames crackled happily, and I was content to let Miramae process what had just happened on her own time. Mental Coalescence was harmless without actually ‘Leashing’ her to my own mind and abandoning her there, but I did feel bad about her wrist.

She massaged it gently as she wiggled her toes by the hot taksim bayan escort glass.

“I didn’t know that humans were–Greymen–no…anyone, was capable of that.” She spoke quietly, but to her credit she didn’t sound scared.

She just sounded surprised.

“Like I said. It’s a good thing it was me that found you.”

She turned partially, tucking her chin over her shoulder as stared at me.

“I would’ve been fine.”

“I know. That’s half the point.” I stretched my shoulders and arms, aware that she was waiting for me to elaborate.

“Most likely you would’ve had to deal with a kill or be killed situation. Most likely you’d have survived, and then I would’ve been sent after you–and I wouldn’t have been as willing to have a conversation if you’d killed one of my friends. Most likely you’d then be dead. I came her looking for a Jollick. You showed me you had already killed it, and it made me more inclined to be patient.”

She didn’t respond, but her silence was enough.

“I had a situation play out just before coming here. In Nevada. A Greymen was sucked dry of his memories by a band Drysmir, or Dryss,

I don’t know what you prefer to call them–they were running a casino. The kid’s name was Mark. I still don’t know if they were able to restore his mind…” In the somberness that followed the statement, I remembered the satisfaction I’d felt as I’d ripped Vanor’s leechers from his mouth while he screamed.

“I killed all eleven of them. Ripped em’ apart with my bare hands. Tortured the leader, too.” I ran my hands through my hair, shaking my head.

“I don’t like seeing innocent people get toyed with. Takes a bit of a monster to deal with monsters, but that’s why they keep me around. Not that they could get rid of me. If the Greymen didn’t want me I’d just go to the Val, or work freelance.” I stared at the shifting flames.

“That doesn’t make you a monster. Dreads are the monsters…”

I turned, lifting my eyebrows at the Vermyr’s words.

“Does that include you?”

She just shrugged, a hardly visible scrunch of her curled up form, and continued watched me.

“So what’s gonna be difficult about going with you? You never finished explaining after you, well–” She lifted her hand and made a ‘wooshing’ noise as she swiped it across the air.

I snorted, amused.

“True… I’ll explain it now then. Simply put, Greymen hate Dreads. Fuckin’ hate them. They’re scared of you. For good reason. There will be some that just want to kill you, whether you’re a natural predator to other Dreads or not. Even so, I want to see what the Elders have to say. They could rule you an asset, but I’ll be honest it’s a slim chance. Honestly, you probably won’t be able to stay there either way, if what you say is true and the Dreads can track you. All I know is if we don’t go to them and get answers, they’ll come to us. I’d be fine, but they’d be less inclined to listen to either of us about you. This all might just end with me putting Melidyl through your lovely breast.” I met her eyes as I said the last part, trying to gauge her response.

Her eyes were almost a light crimson in the firelight.

“I guess if that’s what it comes to.” She said the words dispassionately, a look of depression on her face.

It was a strange look on her. One doesn’t expect an angel to look so glum. I felt the urge to offer her my hand, but stopped the idea before it could manifest. Miramae’s eyes glinted, as if she’d seen what I was thinking, and a small smirk appeared on lips.

“If it comes to that. Just, promise you’ll slide your other sword in me first. A girl’s final meal and all that.”

I shook my head, but couldn’t repress my smile.

“If it comes to that.” I promised.

The girl was honest, at the very least.

“We should get some sleep. We’ll be leaving early.”

She nodded, but made no move to leave the fireside. I lay back, resting my head on the soft carpet, popping off my shoes at the same time. I had already taken off my vest and jacket when we had moved to the living room, so I was as unclothed as I felt comfortable being around the Vermyr. I felt the corner of my mouth pull into grin again.

“Miramae?”

“Yeah?”

“No funny business while I’m sleeping.”