The Titans' Orb: Rising Storm

by Mister Horncastle

Chapter Seven: A Practical People

---

“So, it’s going to be like that, huh?” I muttered, raising an eyebrow.

If this was going to be one of those ‘endless rabbit hole’ kind of scenarios, then I would gladly meet the challenge. Preparing to take on the cold, I quickly put on the stolen Militia outfit, which thankfully, even in the dreamworld, was where I had left it, still piled up in the corner of the room. Once the tight boots were laced and the puffer jacket was zipped up, I stepped through the door and out into the night.

I walked aimlessly, hoping to find something conclusive, and as I trudged on and on, Conscio finally made his presence known again, complaining about how much colder the forest was without fur.

“Well, at least we have the puffer.” I pointed out, “Oh, and nice of you to show up again. Thought I lost you for a moment there.”

{Uhh, me show up?} he scoffed, {Mate, you’re the one who left to take a joyride in Twilight’s body, I meanwhile was left to babysit yours while Sparklefarts had a right old tissy in it.}

“Oh?”

Chuckling, Conscio explained that upon waking up in my body, Twilight went into an absolute panic, hyperventilating and shaking to the point of nearly passing out again. If it wasn’t for his suggestion to use the Sparklight to call me, she very well might have imploded. In turn, I told him of my experience, and how Fluttershy had tried to help me back into bed, only for me to turn on her.

“I like, completely lost control.” I told him, “It was like I actually became Twilight for a moment. Fluttershy was just trying to help me, and yet I… I literally smacked her hoof away, and then proceeded to swear and shout at her. Honestly Connie, it was like I had been possessed!”

{Blimey.} he grumbled in response, {What happened then?}

“I went after her to apologise, but then something happened to me. It’s still a little hazy, but I think I felt something around my neck, and then I couldn’t move, and then I blacked out.”

{Aye, same thing happened to us, lad.} he informed me, {Let’s try and figure out this madness on the double. The last thing we need is a back-and-forth game of body swap when we’ve still got ourselves a Bunnie to rescue.}

“Hear, hear.” I agreed.

Adding some spring to my step, I pressed on with purpose. Seeking out the darkest trees, my plan was to follow the trail of corruption until I found the source of the forest’s infection. Just as Pripyat’s eldritch blight had come from the nuclear power plant, I figured that there must have been an epicentre somewhere; it was just a matter of finding it. Of course, I knew Nah’Lek was also in these woods, and it would only be a matter of time before he found me, and likely killed me again. Either way, I would be digging up a bloody answer out here, even if I had to die a thousand times to do it.

It was then that I heard an ear-splitting scream in the distance, followed by a loud noise, best likened to that of a thunderclap. Gulping, I could only presume it was Twilight, back in her own body, and if that scream was anything to go by, she had just been found by Nah’Lek.

{Well, guess we’re on our own.} said Conscio.

Simply humming my response, I pressed on with clenched fists, well aware that I would be next.

I had been going for some time, when from behind me I heard the snapping of twigs.

“Well, guess I failed this time.” I sighed, turning around to meet my end.

However, the sight before me was no shadowy six-eyed demigod. It was Twilight, hurtling through the forest like a frightened animal.

“Wait!” she called out desperately, charging towards me.

Doing just that, I stood still and allowed the mare to catch up, and as she grew closer, my very bones became as cold as the snow around me. Missing one of her ears and doused in blood, the poor thing had very clearly been attacked by the Defiler, only to miraculously get away, most likely by teleporting in the same way that I had. Skidding to a halt in front of me, the mare looked at me with wild, haunted eyes that were streaming with tears, and without uttering a word, I crouched down and checked her over while she gasped for air between mewling whimpers. There were two deep punctures on her shoulder, and a long curved laceration that danced up along her neck from collarbone to chin.

“Did he follow you?” I asked calmly.

Shaking her head, the little pony winced, and I was quick to grab a fistful of snow and press it firmly against the worst part of the cut. With how cold it was, the snow practically burned my skin, and I had to fight the impulse to let it go. She didn’t resist as I helped her, allowing me to press what was now blood-infused slush into her sliced, weeping throat, thankfully slowing down the bleeding.

“You’re lucky this didn’t go any deeper.” I sighed.

“Almost wish it had.” she croaked, sniffing, “I just want to wake up.”

“Yeah well, I’d rather figure out how to stop this altogether.”

Shaking her head, she told me that this place had no escape. She had tried, many times, but to no avail, the forest was eternal, and so was the monster within it.

“I didn’t say ‘escape’ now did I?” I pointed out, “There may not be an end to this place, but its infection is coming from somewhere, and if I can find that, then maybe… pfft, I don’t know, maybe we can find some sort of advantage, or a way to beat him.”

“You noticed it too then?” she uttered quietly, “The trees?”

“Yup.”

“It’s the same as-”

“Same as Pripyat.” I cut in, finishing the sentence for her, “It’s Nah’Lek’s magic, isn’t it?”

Wincing at the mere utterance of his name, Twilight hung her head and gave a little nod. I then asked her if she knew anything about the magic itself, to which she told me that it had only ever been mentioned once to her, during her studies at Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. During her time there, she wished to learn about all forms of magic, including the forbidden ones. Not that she had been permitted to learn about them in full, but she was taught just enough to know precisely what Nah’Lek was using. Rather appropriately, it was known as demon magic. Unusable by mortals and practically a myth, it was thought only to be available to the demons of Tartarus, along with the Underworld’s great justiciar himself, Hades.

“Wait, Hades is real?”

“If the legends and theories are to be believed, yes.” Twilight answered shakily, “There’s enough evidence to confirm he exists down there, though the Princesses have never outright confirmed it.”

Humming with interest, I would have asked for more information, but between Twilight being in tremendous pain, my skin hurting at the biting cold’s behest, and knowing that Nah’Lek was looking for us, I decided to get moving. We could keep talking on the way, but I refused to remain idle. Jerking my head towards the darkest patch of woodland, I ordered the unicorn to follow me. Too frightened to do anything else, she obeyed without question.

We had been trudging along in silence for a while, and there were only two sounds to be heard; the crunching of snow beneath our steps, and the occasional gasp from Twilight in response to her injuries. Having recently felt how sensitive pony ears were, I could only imagine what losing one felt like. She was handling the whole ordeal rather well, though it broke my heart to know why. If Twilight really had been experiencing such horrors since coming to Earth, then grievous wounds such as these must have been commonplace.

Yet again, I found myself in a place of great conflict. A part of me saw the tortured mare, desperately in need of my help, and I felt compelled to open my heart to her and let go of our bitter past. However, there was an equally large part of me who saw the needlessly cruel individual who had murdered my sapient clone, and banished me to the other side of the country. And in between those two instances, there had been countless little sins that pricked at me like barbed needles. From all the scornful looks, to the slanderous accusations, to the times she didn’t even speak my name, referring to me only as ‘the human’. It wasn’t fair that she should have my forgiveness after all she had done, especially when her spite for me was still ongoing, and yet, it wasn’t fair for such awful things to be happening to her. More than that, was that nobody knew about it; Twilight was suffering in silence, without a soul to confide in, or lean on. The girl needed a friend in this horrible, horrible place, and so I decided that she would have one, even if we remained enemies in the waking world.

“I met that voice you were talking about. The one in your head.”

“Oh?” I hummed, roused from my thoughts.

“Yeah, he spoke to me when we were in each other’s bodies. He was the one who told me to call you.”

Raising my eyebrows, I let off a high-pitched murmur.

“He did mention babysitting a little while ago.” I said with a smirk.

Pursing her lips with annoyance, Twilight frowned at me, before focusing on the remarkability of Conscio’s very existence. If a part of my brain really had become independent from the rest of my consciousness, and had gained sapience in the process, then he was nothing short of a neurological marvel, even by Equestria’s standards. Needless to say, Twilight now wished to study him, and figure out exactly who, and what he even was.

{Well gee, thanks for consulting me first.} he chuckled nervously, {I’m not consenting to her freaky little science experiments. She might end up lobotomising the both of us!}

{You don’t get a choice, mate.} I thought back to him.

With Connie now grumbling with annoyance over his lack of rights, I confirmed that I would allow Twilight to study him once we were back together in the real world.

“That doesn’t mean I’m not still royally fucked off with you, you know?” I told her, “Do you have any idea how much shit I’m in right now?”

“Where even are you?” she said quickly, “You said you infiltrated a cartel?”

It was obvious that she was trying to divert the subject from her cruel act of sending me away, and although an apology would have been nice, I let the diversion slip. Sighing heavily, I explained what had happened in full, from watching Bunnie being dragged out into the street, and quickly befriending her under the stairs, to killing a handful of her pursuers and stealing the very uniform I was currently wearing, all the way to having dinner with the monster I intended to slay.

“Tomorrow, he’s giving me a couple of assignments.” I stated with a hint of unease, “Not sure what I’ll have to do yet, but if I can earn his trust, I’ll have a better chance at pulling this off.”

“All to rescue a pretty girl, huh?”

“Oh fuck off, don’t say it like that.” I spat, “Look, not that I’d expect you to have any sense of decency, but people are suffering in that place. I saw slave girls, Twilight, malnourished and in chains, being used on a daily basis like playthings. This isn’t just about Bunnie, not any more. Okay sure, she’s my main motivator, I’ll happily admit to that, but I need to help these people.”

“And how can I trust you to come back to us?” Twilight growled, “How can I have faith that you won’t just run away with this girl once you’ve saved her? Because it sounds to me like you… like you like her.”

Falling silent for a moment, I realised that she made a very good point. What was stopping me from doing that? In casting me away, Twilight had proved that her company could feasibly complete their task without me, so why not stay gone? Sure, I could continue my adventure with them and uphold my oath, but I could just as easily leave with Bunnie, seek out a British embassy, and return to England with her, where I could use Paulo’s cartel as a scapegoat for my supposed death, and return once again to society. My relationship with Oliver had been repaired, so I would certainly have a better time if I returned home, and as for Janice? Well, this journey had taught me a thing or two about contending with monsters; my mother would never lay a finger on me again. Swallowing, I pondered on the very real possibility of Twilight’s concern. As for the other ponies, if they had any complaints, I could simply tell them what Twilight had really done, and that since being discarded, I no longer felt like a true member of the company. I had effectively been dismissed by their leader, and I was well within my right to keep it that way, and go back to an ordinary life.

But was that what I wanted?

Thinking about it, I was comparing a life of adventure with true friends, and a purpose unlike any other, with the mere chance that Bunnie and I could end up together. I may have already found myself rather infatuated with her, but what if the feeling wasn’t mutual? What if we returned to England, only for her to see nothing in me other than a friend? I would be giving up the greatest adventure on this planet, and abandoning my friends, for a fleeting chance at the only thing I regretted not having; love.

It was selfish, and in the end, I decided that no, it was not what I wanted.
I wanted to see my friends again, and continue our search for the Titans’ Orb.

My silence told Twilight that I was considering it, and although I assured her that I would remain loyal to her cause, I knew in my heart that she didn’t believe me. Putting my mouth to one side, I let out a begrudging sigh, which was when she changed the subject to another matter.

“What did I feel back then?” she asked, “When I was still in your body?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Oh, you know damn-well what I mean.”

Stopping in her tracks, Twilight frowned at me and brought up the sheer intensity of the depressive episode, and how it had drained every ounce of her energy, willpower, and desire to live.

“It was like I had been drugged!” she exclaimed, “What was that?”

With a shrug, I decided to be honest.

“That was my depression.” I told her, “That’s what I feel almost every damn day. It’s not always that intense, sure, but overall, that’s what I have to put up with.”

Gulping, the mare’s eyes became clouded with regret, and sorrow.

“I… I didn’t realise it was that bad.”

“Oh, like you would give a shit if you’d known.”

I spat the words out like they were poison, and the reminder of just how callous she could be clearly struck the unicorn, for she immediately broke eye contact and looked off to the right, opening her mouth and then closing it again. After remaining speechless for a time, she finally asked why I hadn’t brought this up to anyone; if not to her, then at least to someone I actually got along with, like Rarity or Fluttershy.

“And what good would that do, huh?” I grumbled, “They can’t cure it, and all it would do is make them worry about me. The last thing I need is them treating me like some sick animal, wondering if I’m ‘having a low moment’ or whatever. I’ve put up with it on my own for long enough, and I’ll continue to do so, thank you very much.”

“But Callum-”

“But nothing!” I shouted suddenly, interrupting her and making her jump, “You don’t get to do this, Twilight. You don’t get to treat me like the shit beneath your hoof for months on end, only to now start giving a toss, especially after sending me away like you did! Fuck me, just yesterday you sent me a snide text asking if I was dead yet! What was that all about, huh?”

“I… I…” she tried to interject.

“You’re as spiteful as you are childish.” I went on, “The irony that you now seem to care about my depression, when it’s your never-ending scorn that’s caused it to flare up as often as it does! You’re only cosying up to me now because you’re frightened and in pain, but in the waking world, you are as much of an infection as the demon magic that surrounds us. Now, I’m here to find some damn answers in this forest, and if Mister Six-Eyes the Vape Monster kills me first, then hopefully I can wake up for good this time, and get back to helping someone who actually fucking deserves it. So, are you done pretending we’re friends yet? Or are you going to surprise me with an actual apology? Not that you’d mean it for long, if at all…”

Completely taken aback, Twilight was left even more speechless than before. Her eyes glazed over, and if I didn’t know any better, I would wager my words had cut deeper than the still-weeping laceration on her neck, which had now completely recoloured her upper chest to that of a dark crimson.

{So much for being her friend while we’re in here.} Conscio hummed curiously.

{Real friends aren’t afraid to say it how it is.} I retorted silently, {I’ll look out for her in this place, and I’ll fight for her if I must, but that doesn’t make her any less of a scumbag.}

{Hm, touché.} he muttered.

We kept walking, though the mare now trailed behind a few paces. Eventually, I stopped again and turned to face her, sighing heavily.

“Alright look, I may have been a little harsh there-”

“No.” she cut me off, “You said what you said, don’t waste your time backtracking. You hate me, and I hate you, and that’s how it is. Now keep moving, before he finds us.”

Swallowing, I did just that, aware of how once again the fickle bond between us had been severed. This time, it had been my doing, not hers. Twilight had actually felt bad for me, and was showing empathy in regard to my mental illness, and in my anger, I had pushed her away and back into her bitter old self.

{Why didn’t I just let her in?} I thought to myself, clenching my jaw, {Goddammit Callum!}

The both of us then froze on the spot, as a low laugh-like rumble rippled through the trees, followed by the raspy taunt of Nah’Lek’s inhuman voice.

“How quaint… Foes in mind and body, yet their hearts yearn for friendship. This one silently pleads for forgiveness, while the other wordlessly reproaches himself for not giving it to her. Oh, how the little ones regret the choices they’ve made…”

Knowing we had been found, Twilight shot over to me and pressed up against my leg, cowering in terror. I meanwhile, realised that given his choice of words, the Defiler could evidently hear what we were thinking. Scowling into the shadows, I clenched my fists.

“Hey, I didn’t give you permission to read my thoughts, you gangly sack-maggot!”

His distant reply came in the form of a rapid clicking noise. Looking at Twilight, I ordered her to teleport away, so that she could continue searching for the heart of the corruption.

“I c-c-can’t…” she stuttered, “He’ll kill you… and th-then he’ll kill me!”

“Then we’ll just try again.” I told her.

Getting to one knee, I put a hand on Twilight’s shoulder and looked into her watery eyes.

“We’re in this together now, okay? He can kill us as many times as he likes, but one day, we’ll find a way to stop him. If it’s not today, then so be it, but let me give you this one chance.”

Her entire jaw shook with fear, but my words were just enough to inspire her, and with a nod, her horn began to glow. And then, without a hint of warning, Nah’Lek descended from above, planting two black swords, each as long as my arm, down through Twilight’s back and out through her belly, pinning her to the ground and forcing a gut-wrenching shriek from her. The shock in her eyes momentarily shattered my resolve, and all I could do was stare at her as I let out a bellow nearly loud enough to shake the very trees.

“NO!”

Her dying form was then swept up and into the air, as the swords were lifted and swung to one side, casting her away like a thrown object. I watched helplessly as her flailing body abandoned me, flopping to the ground in the distance, where after a few shudders and jolts, it became that of a lifeless heap. With my stomach clenching, I looked up at Nah’Lek’s shadowy form, still obscured in smoke. Every part of me wanted to shout at him, to curse him with every foul word I knew, and yet all I could do was stare in terror, locked into place by those haunting, lifeless, unblinking eyes. Had it not been for what I had seen in Pripyat, I very well may have found his deathly stare to paralyse me eternally. He observed me for a good few seconds, until I finally brought myself to words.

“Get it over with…” I sighed, bowing my head.

“Such a swift resignation…” he mocked in reply, “No attempt to flee? No beg for mercy? Would you not even… fight for your life, little bug?”

“Oh, spare me.” I scoffed, “With what weapon? Let’s face it, I’m inevitably going to die by your hand, or uh… claw? So what’s the point in even trying?”

At this, Nah’Lek did something most unexpected. Extending one of his shiny black arms from the inky mist, he released the sword in his grip, allowing it to fall into the snow in front of me. He then drifted backwards and allowed me to pick it up, indicating his desire for a fair fight. He wanted to duel me, to test the boy who threatened his grand scheme. Though my death remained near, a sword was better than no sword, and so I reached forward and took it. The handle was nearly as cold as ice, and as I held it aloft, a thick string of Twilight’s half-coagulated blood drooled down from the blade and into the snow. Gritting my teeth, I forced the nauseating scene from my mind and focused, quickly growing accustomed to the weapon’s heft.

“I must admit, I did not expect her to choose someone so inexperienced.” he hissed, clearly referring to the Princess, “You are but a child, a stranger to the art of war. Her Royal Highness could have at least found someone a little… older.”

“Yeah well, you’re shorter than I expected.” I retorted, very intentionally quoting Anakin Skywalker.

{Ha!} Conscio cackled loudly, tickled by the response.

Taking a step towards the Defiler, I gripped the sword with both hands and held it out to him.

“Look, sword or not, you’re still going to kill me, and then I’m going to wake up, so if you think I plan on taking any of this seriously, I’m afraid you’re going to be awfully disappointed.”

It was then that I had an idea, something to truly deny this creature of further gratification. The simple fact was as such; this nightmare ended with my inevitable death, and by Nah’Lek’s design, it would be him to deliver it. This had been the case with Twilight, and if we played things out his way, it would be the case for me as well.

Well, we weren’t doing it his way.

“In fact,” I grinned, “how about we skip the chase entirely and cut straight to the credits, hmm?”

Nah’Lek’s head tilted, curious to see what I would do next, though it clearly displeased him, for upon understanding what was about to happen, he darted forward in an attempt to stop me. But even with all his unparalleled swiftness, he was too late. Moving my hands to hold the sword by the blade, I placed the tip against the underside of my jaw and allowed myself to drop. My body weight pulled me down, and in a swift, near-painless instant, the weapon shot upwards into my skull, killing me within the space of a heartbeat.

---

{Well I’ll be…} Conscio muttered, {I didn’t think you had it in you, lad.}

“Yeah, well the alternative wasn’t going to be any prettier.” I moaned sleepily.

Slowly coming to, I found myself lying on the bedroom floor. Sitting up, I checked for hands, and breathed my relief upon confirming that I was still me. I then found the Sparklight close by, which verified the very concerning fact that Twilight and I had switched bodies in the waking world as well, not just during our abhorrent little trip to the Frozen Forest.

“What the hell’s going on here, Connie?” I huffed, getting to my feet.

{Wish I could tell you.} he replied, {I may be leagues smarter than you, but I’m afraid we’re equally in the dark on this one. Best thing we can do is get Bunnie out on the double, find Twilight, and sort this shit out before things get any stranger.}

“Sounds like a plan.” I grumbled.

After heading to the en suite for some water and a wee, I got back into bed. It took me a while to settle down, but eventually I was able to get back to sleep, where I claimed just three hours of undisturbed rest, before I was woken back up by a knocking at the bedroom door.

“I swear if it’s Nah’Lek, I’m killing myself again.”

{Wouldn’t blame you, laddie.} Conscio chuckled.

Getting up and yawning, I went over and opened the door, where I was met by not Nah’Lek, but by someone who wanted to kill me just as badly.

“Ah, Dijla, right?” I said nervously.

Without responding, Bunnie’s mother walked into the room, where for the first time, I heard her speak.

“I’m to shave you, remember?”

“Oh right!” I exclaimed, “Yes, of course.”

Forcing myself back into the quote-unquote ‘normal’ world, I dismissed the otherworldly notions of Nah’Lek, Twilight, demon magic, and body-swapping. In their place, I directed my focus to the woman who was currently under the impression that I planned to abuse her daughter. We went into the en suite together, where she put down the bag she was carrying, of which contained shaving foam, beard oil, scissors, and a cut-throat razor.

“Tell me how you want it.” Dijla spoke.

Her voice was calm, but it carried a soft undertone that sung a song of motherly fury. The poor woman was equal parts livid and hopeless, trapped in what must have felt like an impossible situation. Not that it was all that important, but her accent interested me as well; unlike Bunnie’s, it didn’t sound all that English. Though it was terribly diluted, I best likened the accent to that of a Middle-Eastern one, a trait which made sense for someone with a name like Dijla, of which had Mesopotamian origins.

“Look,” I began, hoping to set her straight, “there’s something you need to know.”

“I’m not here to talk to you.” she grunted, “I’m here to shave you.”

“And I’m here to get you out of this place.” I snapped back, “Bunnie too, for that matter.”

Going rigid, the woman stared at me with confusion. Was this a trick? A trap, set by Paulo? Had her monstrous husband orchestrated some twisted little game for her? After double-checking that nobody was listening by the bedroom door, I ushered her to one corner of the bathroom, and told her the truth.

“I’m not one of Paulo’s men, I found Bunnie by accident. I saw Paulo dragging her out of his car and into the street, and it was pissing down with rain, so I decided to help her. I offered to get her somewhere safe, but she insisted on coming back to free you. Look, I know you think I’m a scumbag, but I swear to you it’s just an act. All I’m here for, is to get you both out of here, and with a bit of luck, put your husband in the ground while I’m at it.”

At first, she couldn’t quite believe me, and how could she, after all the torment she had suffered? But then, second by second, she came to recognise the kindness and sincerity in my eyes. Dijla was no stranger to crooks, killers and fiends, and yet as she searched my face for any such ilk, all she found was a determined, albeit frightened young man, here in earnest to help her and her daughter. The corners of her exhausted eyes began to wrinkle, and her lips parted ever so slightly as she realised this was no deception. Dijla then started to feel an emotion that she hadn’t experienced in a very long time.

Hope.

“You’re telling the truth…” she breathed, her eyes welling up with tears.

“I am.” I promised, dipping my head.

With an outward gasp, the woman reached forward and put her arms around me, breaking into a sob. She clutched me tightly, and with my arms now pressed to my sides, all I could do was stand there awkwardly until she was able to compose herself. Thanking me profusely, she asked who I really was, and with a faint trice of hesitation, I told her the truth.

“Do you remember on the news a good few months ago, that boy in Ifield who was stabbed in his own home? The one whose body went missing from the morgue?”

“That Callum boy?” she replied.

Clearing my throat, I pointed to my own face with both index fingers and gave her a cheesy grin. At that, her eyes widened, needing no further hints to deduce that I was ‘that Callum boy’. Needless to say, I was peppered with many a question, to which I weaved the same narrative I had told her daughter. She drank in every word, impressed more than anything, at how I had pulled off such a convincing death.

“I have to say.” I chuckled by the end of it, “You seem less amazed than Bunnie was.”

“So you really spoke to her?” she inquired, “Is she alright?”

“She was a bit shaken up,” I admitted, “but she isn’t hurt. I last saw her being taken off somewhere, most likely the prison. I asked Paulo if she could be mine so I could keep her safe. Trust me, I have no ill intentions towards her.”

“I believe you…” she sighed, gulping, “Thank you.”

“Of course.” I told her with a weak smile, “Look, I’d love to talk more and explain things better, but the last thing we need is for Paulo to get suspicious.”

At that, Dijla nodded.

“Yes, you’re right.”

Gesturing for me to sit by the bathroom sink, she retrieved the foam and razor, and after asking me how I wanted it in a far less hostile manner, she began to shave away. By the time she was finished, I looked several years younger, with nothing left but a thin chinstrap that led into a short goatee, not too dissimilar to Tony Stark’s beard from the Iron Man films, albeit less pronounced.

“How old are you?” Dijla asked rather bluntly.

Somewhat ashamed to be as young as I still was, I looked away and confirmed that I was only seventeen.

“At least, I think I am.” I added.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I’ve not checked the date for quite some time now.” I explained, “After all I’ve been through, I’ve just sort of let the days blur together, you know? My birthday’s in January, so who knows, I may have turned eighteen and not even known it!”

Huffing with a degree of empathy, Dijla informed me that it was late December. Christmas had been just two days ago, with the hearty meal I ate last night essentially being the leftovers from the Christmas banquet. Upon learning this, all I felt was bitterness, for the lone fact that poor Bunnie had been forced out onto the street on Christmas Day. I then quickly brightened up, and told Dijla that she could consider my aid as a late Christmas present. This brought forth a laugh from the woman; likely the first time she had laughed in quite some time. Once she settled down, she told me that she would gladly accept such a gift, though if my task proved at all too difficult, then I was to at least get Bunnie away from here.

“Can you promise me that?” she implored, “Can you swear to me that you’ll keep Bunnie safe, no matter what happens to me?”

“You have my word.” I assured her.

With a nod, Dijla brought things to a close, packing the shaving kit away and inhaling deeply. She then cupped my face with both her hands, and planted a kiss on my forehead.

“Thank you for what you are doing.” she breathed, “Please, be safe.”

Leaving the room without another word, Dijla shut the door. I emitted a sigh of relief, thankful to have met the woman properly, and assured her that I was no threat to her daughter. I then got dressed in last night’s attire, and after briefly checking my phone for any messages from Twilight, of which there were none, I left the room as well.

Returning to Paulo’s office, I found the man sitting at his desk, smoking a cigar and overlooking some documents. He looked up as I entered, and his face lit up.

“Bruce! Just the man I wanted to see!”

Getting up, he came over to inspect his wife’s handiwork, to which he gave an approving hum.

“No attempts to slit your throat, eh?”

“There was a stern look.” I told him, “But otherwise, she was on her best behaviour.”

“Ha!” he laughed, “I am relieved to hear it!”

He then noticed just how young I was, and joked about how Inigo always did prefer fresh meat, both at his side in work, and beneath him in leisure. Aside from that, he barely batted an eye at my youth. Beckoning me over to his desk, he sat me down and cleared his throat.

“So, I’m sure you’re wondering what assignments I have for you, yes?”

“You read my mind.” I replied, getting comfortable in the chair.

Picking up his cigar, he took another toke from it, before letting out a heavy sigh.

“Well, if you are to work at my side, you ought to know the truth. We are in some deep shit. Ever since Inigo’s side of the business fell apart, I have been bleeding money, product, and personnel. The cost of importation has gone up, and competition is on the rise.”

He then looked around the room, and to my surprise, he ordered his guards to leave the room. They did as they were told, and once the doors were shut, it was just the two of us. Leaning forward, he narrowed his eyes and spoke in a hushed tone.

“What do you know of the name… Hoyt Volker?”

“He was Inigo’s boss.” I answered, remembering the name well, “Yours too if I’m not mistaken.”

“And how do you feel about Mister Volker?”

Knowing exactly where he was going with this, I raised an eyebrow and answered him blankly.

“I don’t work for Mister Volker. I work for you.”

Smiling, this was the answer he had been hoping to hear. In simpler terms, I was swearing loyalty to Paulo, who very clearly no longer wished to be governed by some criminal overlord on the other side of the world. Confirming this, he told me how his partnership with Inigo was his only true tie to Hoyt, and with the Bogeyman of Brazil now dead, Paulo was a liability. To this end, Hoyt had been tightening the noose, as it were.

“I know for a fact he has a mole in my ranks, telling him everything I am doing. Every transaction, every exportation of product, Hoyt hears about it. After some digging, it has recently come to my attention that one of my personal guard is the mole, this is why I have sent them outside.”

“Smart.” I told him.

Ignoring my praise, he went on with a serious expression on his face.

“I would like to start operating independently, you understand? But this is not something Hoyt will allow, and if he catches wind of it, he will likely intervene. As such, the first of your assignments is to learn who this mole is. If I am to cut ties with Volker, I need to root out who within my organisation is working for him, and ensure he is… dealt with.”

“Understood.” I said calmly, “I can handle a rat problem.”

Chuckling deviously, Paulo was overjoyed to receive such eagerness regarding the first stage of his master plan. I asked what my next assignment was, and without much surprise at this point, it was once again related to Hoyt Volker.

“As I am sure you know, Hoyt has been pulling the strings across every major business, from South America, to Africa, to Indonesia. As for here in Portugal, he is in charge of two cartels, one of which is…”

Raising his hands and gesturing all around, Paulo indicated that the first cartel in question was his own. I asked about the other, to which he told me about his rival, a ruthless raiding gang known as the Blood Family. Supposedly, the Blood Family were once allies with Paulo, and traded munitions with him in exchange for narcotics. However, in recent years, there had been more and more violence between the two factions, with Paulo’s cartel suffering heavy losses.

“We were able to capture a few of their men recently.” he told me, “Thanks to Inigo’s advice on how best to torture a man, I was able to make them squeal.”

“Did you play Twenty Questions with them?” I blurted out, remembering what Inigo had done to me.

“Ah! You know it!” Paulo cried out, raising his hands with an open-mouthed grin.

“Of course I do!” I shouted, “I’m the one who had to pull the nails out afterwards!”

Breaking into a mighty guffaw, Paulo slapped the desk and told me how effective the method had been, especially after he had adapted the game, so that the nails were hammered into the victims’ fingers and toes, as opposed to their forearms.

{Damn, glad Inigo didn’t do that to me.} I thought to myself, {With what Nah’Lek’s doing to Twilight on top, I’m starting to think I got off easy!}

Settling down, Paulo went on to explain that one of the Blood Family raiders had given up some rather vital information. As it happened, Hoyt Volker had a mole in the Blood Family as well, and had essentially been pitting the two cartels against each other.

“Wait, so let me get this straight.” I interjected, “Hoyt has been making two of his own lesser gangs fight each other, instead of conducting good business?”

“He likes to play games.” Paulo grumbled, “This is simply a test. Whichever cartel comes out on top, will be allowed to continue working for him, and though I do not wish to admit this, the Blood Family are… how you say, pushing our shit in? My Militia work around the clock to protect the compound, while my Street Dogs are stretched thin keeping the business running, and even then, the majority of them are drunk, high, or just fucking stupid. I cannot spare the manpower to fight the Blood Family head on, and every engagement costs me men.”

“I have a feeling this is where I come in.” I hummed, leaning back in the chair.

“Your feeling is correct.” said Paulo, finishing his cigar and blowing a cloud of smoke at me, “Your second assignment, my dear Bruce, is to help me destroy the Blood Family.”

Reaching under his desk, he retrieved the same shot glasses from yesterday, and poured a hefty amount of rum in each. Passing one to me, he ordered me to drink, permitting that it didn’t hinder my ability to strategise with him. Taking the glass and tilting it in his direction, I took a swig and then inhaled sharply through my teeth, welcoming the liquid’s burning sensation.

{Ahh, rum for breakfast.} Conscio sighed with euphoria, {I like it here…}

{Shut it.} I grunted back in thought, watching as Paulo swallowed a mouthful from his own glass.

“You English…” he hissed, “You are a practical people. You may no longer own a quarter of the world as you once did, but your keen sense of tactical thinking is legend. Where others rush into battle, you look beyond, and see the path to winning not just the battle, but the entire conflict. I have always admired that about you.”

“All that flattery, and you’re yet to arrive at the point.” I replied sternly.

With a loud one-syllable laugh, Paulo clapped his hands together, before telling me that he had shot men for speaking to him in such a way. Maintaining a blank expression, I loosed my retort.

“Then shoot me. I’m not here to be afraid of you, I’m here to work under you, as Vladimir did for Inigo. If you can’t handle someone who can answer back, you can find someone else to hunt rats.”

My boldness paid off, for Paulo respected strength. Smiling warmly, he raised his glass and admitted that his flattery may have been a little too heavy-handed. Finally getting to the point, he told me that for as observant as he was, he was also a very direct man, and though he appreciated the art of discretion, he seldom utilised it. Through minced words, he was essentially admitting that he wasn’t very good at strategy, and was hoping that I could bring a degree of cleverness and guile to his plans. This regarded not only my personal assignments, but rather, he wished for my input on all future business ventures, beyond breaking free from Hoyt’s ownership. Understanding this, I got to work racking my brains, hoping to find a quick solution to such a difficult pair of tasks.

{Ooh, war-games, my favourite! Pick me, I have a plan!} Conscio piped up excitedly.

{Well let’s hear it.} I thought back to him, {Because I’m supposed to be impressing this bastard, yet all I can think about is where Bunnie is.}

Scoffing, the voice in my head ordered me to stop thinking with my penis, and proceeded to tell me his plan, which turned out to be an awfully clever one. I then relayed it to Paulo as though I had come up with it myself, smirking proudly.

“How’s this for an idea? Let’s pretend I’m one of Hoyt’s moles, perhaps one from Inigo’s old gang? Then it can’t be questioned. From there, tell your personal guard that your new English friend is working for Hoyt, and is supposedly under orders to backstab you. As such, you want him found and imprisoned, but not harmed, for you wish to question him. It’s pretty clear that Hoyt’s men are loyal, so if you lock me up, I can guarantee the real mole will come straight to me for a little chinwag. Think of it like a mousetrap, and-”

“And you’re the cheese!” Paulo finished for me, grinning at me with wide eyes.

“Exactly.” I replied, “And you said Hoyt has a mole in the Blood Family, right? Well, if we play our cards right, then maybe the real mole could pull a few strings and have me shipped over there as a defector of sorts. I could infiltrate the Blood Family and tear them down from within. We’d be killing two birds with one stone, with your cartel being unopposed and free from Hoyt within the space of a month.”

As though I had just fixed all his worldly woes, Paulo Escuella leaned forward and stared at me, his maw wide open and his eyes like saucers. He then sucked at the last of his cigar and blew a celebratory plume of smoke into the air. And then, bringing his teeth together into a feral grin, his eyes pierced my own, now brimming with admiration.

“As I said… a practical people.”

---

Comments

[PonyJoe1]

Callum's blow-up at Twilight, deserved as it was, was SEETHING.
Dude straight up called her an infection.

And fuuuuuuck man, when Nah'Lek got her before she could teleport away...
That shit was absolutely...... g r u e l l i n g.

Never realised Dijla was Middle-Eastern either, I just thought she had a unique name.
Doesn't that mean Bunnie's like, part-Portuguese and part-Turkish?

Either way, damn good rewrite bro.
I can't wait to see Mr Practical get to work.