AlterOne

[Winter Savior]

Over two thousand years ago the land of Elemark was a constant powder keg, and it never took much for the fuse to be lit and ignite yet another bloody war. The continent is split into many nations and sub-kingdoms, most prominent were the Kingdom of Fire, the magikal land of Adreark, the Nation of the Earth, the Land of Water, the Air Kingdom, and the Land of Sand; each with its own unique elemental control.

The constant changing of alliances and numerous factions collimated in a near constant state of war, with no force ever fully getting the upper hand, or holding it for long. Following the ever growing power of the non-element based magikal nation of the west, Adreark’s systematic near destruction of its neighbors; the remaining elemental nations forged an uneasy alliance, taking on the might of Adreark.

Not much is of what transpired in the war that followed, but it is said to be the bloodiest of them all, resulting in the extinction of the magikos of Adreark. With the shared enemy gone, the allied nations realized the benefit of such a confederation, and unified under one banner, creating the first unified nation of Elemark.

1

Akko could hear their voices as the Veldt came ever closer. With his mana* nearly depleted, if they found him, which he knew they would, he’d be fighting on essex** alone. As he falls back onto the wall and slides to the floor, his eyes go to the mirror across the dark room, illuminated by the light of the full moon. His appearance much changed from years past; gone is the young man he once was, the face looking back at him now was that of saddened eyes, matted hair, and a ruffled prematurely graying beard. He looked down, the blood seeping through his fingers as he holds his stomach in an effort to slow the bleeding, the gash ever flowing. He raises his head and leans it back against the wall, looking out of the window and into the night sky. His thoughts turn to years past, the friends, the family he’s lost as a loneliness he has never felt before washes over him. Near the edge of death, the question arises.

“How did it come to this?”
***

“Akko ducks the Water Whip. He comes back up with a hard Flaming Uppercut sending the his opponent off the platform and out of the tournament!” the announcer says

“Akko advances to the semi-finals” states the referee, pointing the green flag at Akko

He waves to the cheering crowd in the stadium as he exits the arena, making way for the next set of combatants. As he leaves the dark tunnel from the arena, Akko turns onto the hall of his dressing room and is met by a mob of screaming girls and flashing cameras.

“There he is, it’s Akko!” a girl screams

Before they masses can surround Akko, he holds up his hands.

“Stop.” he says, “I don’t know how you all got back here but I’m a little tired right now, I can’t~~”

“Please Akko!”

“Give me your autograph!”

“Come on Akko, smile for the camera!”

Too tired to bother at the moment, Akko jumps into the crowd, fighting his way through, finally managing to half fall into his room, falling back against it as the women continue to bang at it on the other side.  He immediately slumps into the chair in front of his mirror, putting his head on the table and letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Well aren’t you quite the celebrity.”

Akko brings his head up and turns around in the direction of the voice. Behind him, sitting cross legged on the couch, was a flaming red haired woman, perhaps Akko’s age, but her look was a more refined maturity about it, the briefcase at her side adding to the aura.

“How’d you get in here?” he asks, the door had been locked

The woman ignores his question, “I’ve come with a proposition.”

“What kind of proposition?”

“I’ve come on behalf of my boss,” she states, “He sees you as a potentially great addition to our group.”

She gets to her feet, picking up the case and walking forward, placing it on the table in the middle of the room and opening it slowly. Akko looks on as she reveals the briefcase to be filled with marks. She turns back to him.

“My boss really wants you,” she continues, “he’ll pay you more for one day of work than you can make fighting in some tournament. Think of this as incentive.”

Akko nods his head and puts his hand to his chin as if considering, “H’m so what I’ve got here is some unknown boss sending one of his employees to bribe me with the lure of an easy life. From my perspective, your boss assumes I’m going to see a briefcase full of money and a beautiful woman and hop on whatever job he’s offering just like any other sensible person out there right?”

The woman remains thin lipped, so Akko continues “What your boss doesn’t understand is that I don’t do this because I have to—well no yes I kind of do otherwise I’m broke, but I enjoy what I do, I love it. And for your boss to even think I would dream of leaving this he must be quite a fool to—

“Don’t you dare disrespect him!” small wisps of fire twirl around her hands, “Our Organization is bigger than some damned pro fighting!”

Akko’s eyes turn to slits, “So that’s what this is about then.”

She lets out a sigh, “Yes, the Aduri Syndicate. We want you in our Org.”

Akko gets to his feet, walking to the door and pulling it open, “I think you need to leave ma’am.”

She takes the briefcase and walks through the door, but as she does, Akko tugs at the case.

“Hold on,” he says, “This was incentive to help me make my decision right? I said I loved what I did; I never said I would turn down free money.”

She moves to hand over the money, “Hopefully your decision can be—

“I’m kidding, like I would accept your dirty money; get the hell out.”

The woman, now highly annoyed, throws the briefcase at Akko who ducks; the briefcase hitting the opposite wall and sending the money flying around the room. He turns back to the door, but the woman is gone. Just as he goes to lie on the couch, the door opens once more.

“Hey who was that red he-holy hell—your room is full of money,” Ulrich walks into the room, “My mind is running a million different explanations for this money and that woman, and none of them are proper. Tell me one of those million is correct?”

“Your dirty mind wouldn’t know the half of what just happened,” Akko says as he stretches, “I need to get some sleep. You ready to head home?”

The brothers depart the arena; upon exiting they hear a commotion around the corner and notice some ways off that a large crowd is at the front holding signs and yelling things that the two couldn’t reasonably hear from their distance.

“Looks like a strike,” Ulrich notes

“The cleaning crew was bound to get fed up at some point,” Akko says

He turns back to the car, catching a glimpse of red from a passing car.

As they get into their own car, Ulrich asks “But seriously what happened?”

“Nothing.”

The following day at the arena, Akko runs into a familiar janitor cleaning the floor.

“Good luck on that strike?” he says friendlily as he passes

The janitor is left confused as Akko continues on. Turning onto a side corridor to his room, he runs into Pietro and Zephyr coming back from sparring. Both men sweaty and bare chested, but not too worried about either to not stop and talk. Pietro pulls against the towel hanging around his neck.

“Akko, heard about the riots last night?”

“Riots? No, what happened?”

Zephyr speaks, “There were a few here and there, not too far from each other for the most part. The thing that’s interesting is that at each scene, the next morning they found either dead or dying visarts.”

“Was probably some big Org battle with the riot as a cover,” Pietro adds, “They’ve done things like this before.”

“There you are.”

Akko turns around as Ulrich comes around the corner and extends a letter to his brother, “Found this in my room, but it was addressed to you, didn’t read it though.”

Akko opens the letter, finding the words “First Him, then You” scrawled on it.

“What is it?” Zephyr asks

Akko shakes his head and starts to put it in his pocket, but Pietro quickly swipes it away and reads it, looking back at Akko with that of suspicion.

“What is this?”

Akko shrugs, “I dunno, just some crazy hate mail.”

Zephyr glances at the note in Pietro’s hand and shakes his head, “No, this isn’t some hate mail; it’s too direct. It’s more of a threat.”

“From who,” Ulrich asks

“I saw your movement,” Pietro says of Akko, “the slight movement in your eyes. Don’t think me a fool. You know who this came from, all I want to know is why so secretive about it?”


Akko sighs, “I was visited by an Aduri yesterday,” at the outcry, “Look; I turned them down.”

“So now they sent you a message: They’ll kill him, then you.” Zephyr notes solemnly, referring to Ulrich

“They’d be pretty dumb to try and take on two of the best fighters in the country” Ulrich says

 Akko smirks “Don’t overhype yourself there Ulrich, you’ve still got to win your first tournament--speaking of which, don’t you three have matches today.”

“Trying and failing to change the subject,” Zephyr says

Akko, “No, I just am not too keen on standing here much longer with the fruits of your training in the air.”

“Fair enough,” Zephyr, “But we’ll discuss this later.”

“I’ll catch up in a sec,” Pietro says

Ulrich and Zephyr depart, leaving Akko and Pietro in the hallway. Pietro looks Akko over, the two stand in silence.

“What you did at first, where you were about to tuck the paper away.” Pietro says finally, a grin playing on his face “What were you thinking of doing after that; walk right up to the Aduri and demand they leave you be, or else?”

Akko does not smile, “That’s my plan exactly.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Mana: pronounced [mon-na], this is the main energy source of all life

Life Essence: usually shortened to Essex [s-sex], it means core energy, spirit energy, increases power far more than normal mana energy, but the use of this is the use of your very life. Deplete your life essence and you die

Visart: pronounced [vis-sert], element wielding beings with combat ability

Organizations: Orgs; the grouping of different Family Houses of the same element base to form a co-op group, normally for the purpose of criminal activities

The Aduri Syndicate [Fire]: the Aduri have always been a coherent unit, being the only Elementist clan to never have the ever constant internal wars for power, has left them the only stable force. The only thing the Syndicate is concerned about is controlling the city, and doing whatever it takes to achieve that.

[takahashi]

Wow that was am awsome begining 

[Corycaly]

This story sounds interesting! Keep writing!

[Nyxy]

Interesting read, though I will say the begining of your tale explaining the situation feels a little rushed.  Using Organization to represent the major houses is okay but I think I would have liked to have the names of the Houses clans up front.  Does your story have a name for its world? Because the line "After the joining of all the elemental nations, the people began to co-exist."  Where the nations under different names and titles before? As a history type I feel its important for groups to have significant names to make them more distinct. It is not easy to do this though I understand.  Other then those things I really did enjoy reading this story and look forward to seeing where you go with it.  I have a feeling your lead character Akko is going to be pulled into a war whether he wants it or not.

[Winter Savior]

Thanks for the reviews :)

@Nyxy, I did rush it, but I wrote a more detailed version on WattPad that I will post instead of what I have up there currently. I'll do it now; also on this, I love history as well and I've actually written more on the Past of this world than the current one I am showing you now. I don't want to spoil the twist to the ending of this story but I will say that if you follow it til then, you will not be disappointed with the look into the past that I give and what happened back then.

To answer your other question, I have not really mentioned any Houses yet as the Aduri is just one of the major crime organizations, which I've based as a mix of a clans and a mafia theme, though the name 'clan' is used as "House" here, where all of the immediate and extended family fall under a certain House (1st, 2nd, etc), Orgs are as I said, a number of Houses together. Let it be noted that one House does not act alone, that if the 1st House aka the Head House, does something, they all will follow, though it IS diplomatically done.

Your other questions will be answered with the Prelude.

[Nyxy]

awesome I look forward to reading it all, its a good story :)

Edit- Just read the new opening like that a lot better keep up the tale I will definitely add it to my must read list :)

[Winter Savior]

2

His plan is to go to the house of district leader in his neighborhood; the wealthiest man in the district and also a known Aduri. Akko had never fully understood how that worked; there were many well-known Org members in Alter City and throughout Elemark, but the long standing law that has declared it unlawful to arrest someone without visibly witnessing the crime take place. In essence, the police could not apprehend a criminal for a murder unless they were there at the time of the murder, in which case they have the right to apprehend the person by any means. To counteract this, the police are constantly watching known Org members. The particular Aduri in question is a frequent to the arena by the name of Nikita Vikaeli. He lives not far from the arena, so Akko decides it best to walk; sure that Ulrich will need the car later as Sineca usually rides with him after his matches.


As he is walking up to the gated entrance to the estate, he glances across the street and sees a pair of policemen standing outside their car, shooting daggers at the Aduri guards across from them. He turns to the entrance, looking beyond the two men in front of him; he sees a large three story home. The two guards step forward.


“Name?” asks the first guard


“Akko of the First House of Namor,” Akko replies


He looks to his fellow guard, “You heard of them?”


“Nope.”


“We are only one family,” Akko informs


The second guard looks at Akko as if trying to figure something out, before pointing his finger and exclaiming, “Wait, I know this guy!” he says, “it’s Akko, the pro fighter!”


The first looks at him again, “Well I’ll be, it is,” he slaps Akko on the back, “Why didn’t you say that at first? Here come on in.”


The men direct Akko through the door and call on an escort to bring him into the house. The escort comes forward, the look of a refined attendant, he bows slightly.


“Right this way sir,” he says


“Wait, Mr. Namor!”


Akko turns back to the guards, the second fumbling in his pocket before pulling out a piece of crumbled paper and a pen.


“Can you sign this—for my son,” he says, “a big fan of yours.”


“Sure, why not.” Akko signs it and follows the escort inside


“You don’t have a son.” the first guard remarks


Once in the mansion, the escort turns to Akko, “What’s your business with Mr. Vikaeli?”


“One of his people came by the arena yesterday; I’ve come concerning the matter.”


“Ah,” he turns away from Akko, “This way then.”


He is led through a large corridor and a series of hallways, passing perhaps a dozen men and women as he went, all glancing at him as he walked by. Akko assessed that there was probably a mix of family members and hired members in the ranks of the gang, as he knew Mr. Vikaeli’s family was not this numerous, though what he didn’t know what the position Vikaeli held in the Aduri, perhaps he was the Head of his House, Akko was not sure. They stopped at a large wooden door on the second floor.


“One moment please,” says the attendant


He steps into the room and out again a few seconds later.


“Mr. Vikaeli will see you now.”


Akko lets out a deep breathe, and walks into the room and sees Nikita Vikaeli sitting behind a large wooden desk in front of a paneled wall to ceiling window. Nikita is sporting a beaming smile on his face as he gestures to the seat across from him.


“Take a seat, take a seat,” he bids, “It’s not very often that I entertain a renowned fighter as yourself.” Akko takes the seat, “Now tell me, what brings you to honor my home?”


“I’m sure you’ve full aware of the message I received,” Akko states


A look of confusion crossed Nikita’s face, “Message? What mess—


“Don’t play coy with me Mr. Vikaeli,” Akko says, “I’ve given your people my answer and no amount of scare tactics is going to change it. If the Aduri come at me with this,” removing the letter from his pocket and flinging it across the desk to Vikaeli, “again, I’ll be back, and conversation won’t be so pleasant.”


As Akko gets to his feet to leave, so does Nikita, flicking the folded paper to the floor; the smile gone from his face now, replaced with an angered frown.


“Is that a threat Mr. Namor?” he asks


“Take it as you may,” Akko replies


Nikita puts his hands behind his back, walking around the desk to Akko, “I welcome you into my home as a guest,” he says, “In return I receive idle words and empty threats.”


As he steps in front of Akko, the two stare into the others eyes.


“Tell me something Mr. Namor,” he says, “How many men have you killed? Have you ever felt death’s blade at your throat?” Akko starts to speak, “I’ll answer that for you, none and never. Yet you come into my home with the threat of death. Make no mistake Mr. Namor, I’m not a man you should care to lose your tongue with…least something unfortunate befall you before leaving my home.”


Akko reaches out to grab Nikita by the collar but Nikita knocks Akko’s hand out of the way and dives forward with his own, flames swirling around it, just as Akko does the same. Both men grab the other’s arm, their hands covered in flames. The two men glare at each other, struggling against the other’s grip. Akko’s hand is getting closer to Nikita’s face, whose eyes are growing wide as Akko begins to overpower him, his arm trembling as he tries to keep Akko’s hand at bay, while still extending his own. Beads of sweat begin sliding down his face as the flames get ever closer.


“Father I…”


His son Nikki walks into the room and stops midsentence upon seeing the scene, but only for a second as he leaps forward, bringing his hands forward, releasing a fiery blast that hits Akko in the side, sending him flying over the desk and through the window, tumbling to the ground below amid a shower of shattered glass fragments.


“Are you alright father?” he asks


Nikita fixes his clothing, “Yes.”


“I’ll alert the guards, we’ll catch him” he says, looking down out the window as Akko gets to his feet and looks up at them before running to the wall, leaping over.


“No, let him go.” Nikita says, walking from the window


Nikki turns to the window again, glances in the direction his father was looking, the two policemen staring back up at him…


“Knock, Knock.”


Akko finishes bandaging his arm as Pietro comes into the room, “How’d it go?”


“Well.” Akko replies, putting away the bandage wrappings


Pietro takes notice of the bandaged left arm and the shirt on the floor, burned and bloody.


“You okay?” he asks


“I’m fine.”


His tone showing he did not want to continue the matter; he begins rubbing his injured arm.


Pietro got the hint, “Akko…Bern’s dead.”


Akko’s head snaps up, his full attention on Pietro now; a water visart, Bern was not a close friend of Akko’s but a friend all the same, just as any other fighter in the Alter City arena.


“He was found dead this morning,” Pietro continues, “from the looks of it murder. The house was trashed; he must have put up one hell of a fight.”


“Any leads on a killer?” Akko asks


Pietro shakes his head, “Police are more concerned about the Org’s at the moment,” he says, “They’re only getting stronger.”


“The police or the Orgs?”


“Both.” Pietro flops on the couch beside Akko, his hands behind his head “We need to take a break. With all the rioting, Org threats, and fangirls, it’s best that we take a night and enjoy ourselves.”


“Alright, what do you have in mind?”


“The ex-pro fighter Malko, is having a party in the Mayor’s honor tomorrow night,” he replies


“The fighter turned actor turned politico?” Akko asks


“He’s just a lobbyist; guy doesn’t know what he wants to do,” Pietro remarks, “But yeah him. Invited me and my sis to the party, you and your brother should come.”


“And you’re going?”


“I’m trying to become a politico myself one day, maybe even a district leader,” Pietro replies, “Why else would I keep up with all the news? Pro fighting isn’t going to pay the bills forever ya know.”


“Um sure, why not,” Akko says, “Though I don’t see how this is going to be any of the things you named.”


Pietro jumps to his feet, clasping his hands together, “Great!” he says, “Oh and this is kind of a big deal, so dress nicely.”


The Namor brothers exit the car, walking over to meet Pietro and Sineca, both finely dressed in matching white attire; the suit complimenting Pietro’s short white hair as well as Sin’s blue.


“I just don’t see why I was dragged on your date with Pietro,” Ulrich grumbles, “Sin and I could have been off doing other things than this.”


“Quiet.” Akko shushed as they neared the other two


“What took you so long?” Pietro says smiling


“Oh look you took the car this time,” Akko says, with mock shock


“Even Deva rode a horse sometimes,” Pietro says


“Highly doubt it,” Akko replies, “Come on, we going in or not?”


“May I?” Ulrich extends an arm to Seneca


Sin giggles, “Why certainly good sir.”


“Come on you two,” calls Pietro, he and Akko having continued on to the entrance


As they neared the entrance, the cameras start flashing as reporters frantically try to get questions and pictures with the pro fighters while fans call their names. The security on hand holds them at bay while Akko and the others wave politely here and there.


“I forgot that we were semi-famous here in Alter City,” Akko remarks


“That, and the fact that this party is full of some of the most well-known actors and politico in the city,” Pietro informs him


The group makes their way into the building, the party already looking like a who’s who in Alter City. They look around for a table just as a long haired man rushes forward with open arms.


“Pietro, Sin!” he exclaims


“Malko,” Pietro extends his arms to embrace; Malko hugs Seneca instead


“I’m glad you came,” Malko says turning to Pietro, then looking to Akko, “You must me Akko correct?”


“Yes.”


Malko puts his hand on his chin, “H’m I remember you now,” he says, “You arrived into the pros just as I went into acting. Now that I think about it, I’ve heard a bit about you as well.”


“And this is my brother, Ulrich,” Akko gestures


“Oh yes, Sin’s love muffin,” Malko says, “She mentioned you a time or ten.”


“Now that you mention it, I’ve never really heard much of you,” Akko says, turning to Pietro


Pietro shrugs, hands in pocket, “He comes over for dinner sometimes.”


Malko shakes his head, “Either way I’m glad you guys are here; the acting crowd is too fake and the politico is pretty dead.”


“Speaking of which, that guy looks like he’s gonna drop any minute now.” Ulrich points to a wispy haired ancient looking old man


“Mr. Yama, District 7 Leader,” Malko states, “Come on, let’s get seats, follow me.”


Once seated, Pietro turns to Malko.


“Have you heard about Bern?”


Malko sighs, “The police were asking me questions earlier, seeing as I trained him just before I left they wanted look for any clues or connections.”


“Good, they’re doing something at least,” Pietro says


“The mayor’s got some big announcement, don’t know what it is,” Malko says, getting to his feet “it’s my party so I have to go announce her, be back soon.”


He makes his way to the stage; stepping up to the microphone, he clears his throat loudly; the chatter dies down as the crowd turns to the stage.


“I made this party today, partly because I wanted to look good for the Mayor, partly because I wanted the entrance fee that all the people I didn’t like had to pay to get in here…which was all of you,” there was laughter throughout the audience, “I’m serious. Anyways, without further ado, will the real Mayor slash Princess please stand up, please stand up,” Malko says, looking around comically


The mayor stands up from a table in the corner, the spotlight shining down as she walks to the stage, Malko bowing away as she took to the podium.


“Thank you for the introduction Malko,” the says


“I love you too Mayor!”


“I’m here today because as most of you may know, there have been an increase in violence in such a short time here in Alter City,” she begins, “My police force is already stretched thin, we cannot handle it all. Our recent appointment of Nol-Wun as Chief of Police has been a major step in reshaping our force…”


The spotlight shines back at the Mayor’s table, now on a young man with a smug look on his face.


“He’s such a sleaze.”


Malko says, having returned to his seat at the table, remarking on the Chief of Police.


“Do you know that guy?” asks Akko


“No, he just has that look.”


“Ah, okay.” Akko says, turning back to the Mayor’s speech in progress


“…with us needing a stronger force in our fight. That’s why I would like to introduce my special guests here tonight; this special task force will be working alongside Chief Nol-Wun in our war on crime, helping to rid the city of the Orgs.”


The doors on both sides of the stage open; three cloaked figures in masks coming from each. The room goes abuzz with murmurs at the sight, while the six masked figures form a line behind the mayor. Akko takes note to their masks; white with blacks slanted holes for eyes and a thin slit for a mouth with abstract markings at various places on them. Just then, another hooded figure walks out, this one maskless, though his features not any more distinguishable; his gloved hands behind his back as he ascends the steps onto the stage, turning to the audience.


“My name, is Orojin…and I am the leader of the Order of the Veldt.”


Silence…everyone in the audience is left open mouthed and wide eyed…


“Ho-ly *censored*.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Adreark: the former western nation of the magik users of Elemark


Magikos: magic based users, most but not all are now part of New Veldt Order


The Veldt: [velt]; the secret Veldt Order of Adreark or the Order of the Veldt, was an elite magiko force loyal to the current leader of Adreark at the time. Formally but a special ops group, the agents began to replace conventional magiko fighters as wars became less prevalently fought on battlefields but in cities and forests in small skirmishes, as a result of the effectiveness of their mass range attacks ending frontal confrontation between elemental countries. After the fall of their nation, the Veldt were thought to be all but extinct in the thousands of years that followed.


Politico: can be used as singularly or plural, used to describe anyone regularly involved in politics, including lobbyists


Districts: Alter City, as are most other cities in Elemark, is split into multiple districts, each administered by an elected District Leader, acting as the district’s voice to the Mayor. There are 52 districts in Alter City.


Ferviscutere: [fur-v-skew-tear],  the move used by Nikki Vikaeli, a simple flaming blast of power, though the temperature is variable

[Winter Savior]

3

The initial shock gone, the room became abuzz with murmurs; cameras flashing here and there. The voices grew louder and the lights flashed more swiftly, the audience speaking in a mix of confusion and awe, the magik wielding Veldt having been long thought extinct. The man, Orojin, stood quietly at the podium until the noise dyed done enough, before speaking once more.


“My people have seen the struggles of the common man against the menace that are the Organizations,” he says, “Throughout Elemark, the Ark police are valiantly going against the Orgs, going against a much stronger foe in the name of justice and peace. These actions are to be commended, as are the actions of Mayor Ebuza and Captain Nol-Wun for accepting our help in these troubled times, understanding that without us, how long will it be before the police patrolling the streets are replaced by the Terragotto, the Black Falcons, or the Aduri? What I give you now a promise, a promise that we will take back the streets and end the Org menace once and for all.”


The audience gave a standing ovation as Orojin steps from the podium, at the same time, the masked figures turn in unison. Orojin is quickly flanked on either side by his Veldt, exiting the room the way he had come.


“What’s wrong Malko,” Akko asks, the others turning their attention now


“I didn’t expect that announcement,” he says, his speech quickening, “She called, said she’s seen my latest movie, asked if I would like to sponsor an event for her—of  course I would—who wouldn’t—but not this.”


“First off, slow down,” Pietro said, “Now what’s the problem?”


“The Orgs,” Malko said, “The Orgs will see this as me being a part of this seeing as I am hosting this thing. They’ll probably have a hard time getting to that Oro guy or the Captain, but me, any of them could bring an End Team after me.”


Pietro’s look was that of disapproval, “In all your acting, when did you forget to act like a man; you’re worrying about street thugs.”


“You’re a fighter,” Ulrich says, “Who could the Orgs put up against you?”


Akko shakes his head, “Hold on guys,” he says, “Malko has a point, just think for a minute. The Orgs will want to look strong after this announcement to show that they won’t be intimidated, and Malko isn’t a bad choice of a target. If it comes to that, a half dozen Lightning Faction Falcons against someone who hasn’t fought in years and—no offense Malko, even when he did, was not top tier.”


Malko gets to his feet, “I’ll be back,” he says, “I’m gonna go talk to the Mayor.”


He walks over to Mayor Ebuza, who is in a conversation with Captain Nol-Wun. The Mayor looks over Nol-Wun’s shoulder and sees him coming; she smiles as he comes forward.


“Malko,” she says, “I have to thank you again for doing this all on such short notice.”


“About that,” Malko says, proceeding to tell the two of his dilemma


“I see. I should have thought of this before,” she replies, “I’m sorry I have put you in this situation.”


“If protection is what you need, then I can have a team with you around the clock.” declares Nol-Wun, “It’s the least we can do.”


“Not such a sleaze after all,” Malko says


“What?”


“Nothing—I was thinking of something else,” Malko says quickly, a grin playing across his face


Across the room, the others look on as Malko talks with Mayor and the Captain.


“I’ve always been curios as to why the Princess of Elemark chooses to play Mayor,” Ulrich says, “Just what does she get out of it? She’s beautiful, like mid-twenties, and rich; yet instead of living it up with lords and the lot, she spends her days with the politico.”


“Even women like her want power,” Akko says


“I mean she could just sit back and wait for her turn at the crown,” Ulrich says


Pietro shakes his head, “You’re forgetting about the Vote of Succession law. Do you really think that in the current state of the country, that if the Princess had just sat around and waited for her turn, the Council would have agreed? I’ve known of a few former royals to go into politics just to make their standing in the succession pool higher.”


“I’d have thought she was trying to be so political to compensate for her older brother,” Sin says


“Xen hasn’t been seen in years,” Akko notes, taking a sip of his drink while looking across the room


“He’s probably dead,” Pietro says, “Just because we haven’t heard it doesn’t mean somebody hasn’t done it. He’s some years older than me but I never liked him, there was always something about him.”


“Sad about his mom though,” Ulrich remarks


Malko returns to the table with a look of satisfaction, plopping into his seat with a smile.


“Went well?” asks Sin


“Very.” he replies, “The Orgs won’t be able to even get near me now.”


Pietro smirks, “Well that’s no fun.”


“But I’ve got even better news,” Malko says, the smile ever present, “The Princess has invited me to the palace for dinner next week.”


“Who else is invited?” Akko asks


“Just me,” Malko says, “I’ll be dining with her and the King.”


“Aside from that being very awkward, that’s great.” Ulrich says


“It’s a pity date,” Pietro says, “You’re not nearly that famous.”


Malko shoots daggers at Pietro, “I’ll have you know, she is a huge fan of my movies.”


Pietro laughs, “Your movies? Comedies and a weird cliché love drama.”


“Love Below gained three award nominations.” states Malko defensively


“You played a mentally ill dolphin enthusiast who couldn’t choose between loving a beautiful whale lover—equally weird by the way—or a dolphin.”


“It was such a good movie Malko,” Sin says, “I cried at the ending.”


“I laughed.” Ulrich added, “Are you sure that wasn’t comedy?”


Akko glances across the room once more, catching the young woman in the corner again looking in his direction. She’s cute, he says to himself, and alone. He looks around, wondering if perhaps she was looking at someone else. At seeing the tables around him empty, as many of the party goers were mingling out on the floor, he gets to his feet. Leaving the guys to go back and forth about Malko’s movies, he makes his way through the crowd. She sees him coming about halfway across, so he gives an awkward wave, not knowing what else to do, putting his hands in his pocket as he comes forward.


“Let me guess,” he says, “You’ve been trying to work up the courage to come over and talk to me haven’t you?”


She laughs dryly, “I’m going to take that as a joke.”


“Sorry,” Akko says, “My names Akko.”


“Ferra.”


“It’s just that usually when I see a girl staring at me, she’s usually a fan,” he says


“Well if you must know, I’ve spent the last few minutes wondering if it was really you.” she replies


“So you are a fan then?”


“I saw your match the other day,” she states, “It was my first.”


“Really,” Akko says, “I’d have thought most people had seen at least one pro fight match in their lives.”


“My father is not a fan of the sport,” she says, “And really, neither am I. I was curious, but after watching, it seemed so unrefined.”


Akko looks around, “Would your father mind is I took his daughter for some air?”


They headed out back, walking along the reflective pool. A slight breeze blowing through the night air, Akko looks on as the wind gently blew Ferra’s hair.


“Now whose staring?” she smirked


“My bad,” Akko said, looking the other way


Their walk continues in silence as Akko tries to think of something to say. This girl was not just another fan who was constantly fawning over him; she actually seemed uninterested for the most part. She wasn’t asking any questions about his life or if he knew any other famous people, none of the usual fan talk. It was much surprising considering when she had been staring at him earlier, he was sure she was of that nature. Now he was walking with her, and he couldn’t think of anything to say.


“If you hadn’t mentioned it earlier, I could tell now that you’re not used to being the first to act,” she said


They stop walking; Akko putting his hands in his pocket once more while Ferra looks down into the reflection pool.


“Haven’t seen you around before,” he says, trying to make conversation


“It’s a big city,” she replies “I haven’t been here long, but I’m not too fond of this city’s inhabitants.”


“Probably because you hadn’t met a guy like me,” Akko says with a grin


As she is about to reply, a man comes up behind the two.


“He calls for you Miss Grey.”


Ferra turns back to Akko, “I’ve met a lot of guys like you,” as she walks away, she calls back, “I’ll be seeing you Akko Namor.”


Watching her go, he catches the eye of none other than Nikita Vikaeli, glancing in Akko’s direction every now and then while he talks with a group of unnamed men and women. Looking past Nikita, Akko sees his son Nikki as well. As Akko makes his way back into the building, he feels Nikita’s eyes following him as he walks past.


Taking his seat at the table, he notices that it’s all but empty save for Ulrich and Seneca, who, at the moment were conjoined at the face. He clears his throat.


“Come up for air you two,” he says, “Where are Malko and Pietro?”


Ulrich points and Akko follows the direction, looking over and seeing them in what he can only assume is boring conversation with a pair of politico. He turns back to the duo, surprised that they have not gone under once more.


“Akko, I’ll need the car.”


“No,” he replies, “You spent your money on the cycle remember?”


“Which is great, but I couldn’t well ride that here now could I?”


“Fine,” Akko tosses the keys to Ulrich


Akko orders another drink, now sitting alone at the table. He looks out on the crowd, watching as Ulrich exits with Seneca. Just as soon as they exit, three men come into the building. Considering no one has really left yet, and it’s quite a late entrance, Akko watches them, out of boredom than anything else. They don’t disappoint as he sees them walk up to Nikki Vikaeli, say a few words, and hastily exit the building with Nikki in the lead. Akko shakes his head, cursing the Aduri as he drank.


The Namor brothers share a home; having moved to Alter City a few years ago from the small town life, they were only happy at having a place to stay, not spending their money on the luxury aspects of a home. Though, that is not to say that their home did not show their monetary status of being well off.


Walking into the house, Seneca hurried off to the bathroom while Ulrich walks up the stairs to his bedroom. He begins to remove his shirt as he steps through the door to his unlit room. Pulling the shirt over his head, he looks up—indistinguishable by the dim light of the moon shining through the window, but unmistakably there, four darkened figures stand before him.

----------------------------------------------------------

The Terragoto [Earth]: consisting of all Earth based elements, and the largest faction, the organization is not a transitional group of leadership. Due to their powerful iron element, the House of Medro has controlled the Org for generations, taking over shortly after the organization was founded. Though with their numbers dwindling, the other Houses may now rise against the Dynasty.


Hydra [Water]: using the ability to monopolize the nearly all water based industry, the Water Houses have a base of operations in every port in Adreark; meaning many places to dump their enemies. Unlike the other Organizations, the Blue’s Headquarters lies on an island off the coast where the current Head of the Organization resides, while he orchestrates his business and Org operations through his sons.


The Black Falcons [Air]: perhaps the most volatile Organization, the Falcons are currently a splintered group. The Lightning Houses have rebelled against their Wind House counterparts, while the rare Energy Houses remain neutral, but are used by both the Lightning and the Wind.


Xen Ebuza: the son of the King of Elemark has been away for 11 years, his location was unknown. When he was 17 he attempted a coup d’etat, but was thwarted by the royal guard, though not before they were able to kill three members of the Medrioporum (the Elemark Council) and Xen had killed his own mother. When asked by his father why he did it, he said that it was because his father did nothing to make sure that his son would succeed him, that the throne would be assured to his son, not be voted on. He claimed that his father was not a king, but a puppet of the council; he wanted to rule, he wanted the power. The night before his and his fellow conspirators’ public execution was set; they escaped the palace prison and fled the city.


Vote of Succession Law: unlike a conventional kingship, the land of Elemark, not wanting to give power of the country to someone based on only that they were the son of the last leader, decided on the rules of succession. Each King of Queen was voted upon by the Medrioporum, who could choose from either the current Nobility, the Politico, or from any of the former Kings or Queen, including their immediate sons or daughters. The decision can only be made when the current King or Queen has either retired of died.

[Winter Savior]

4

9:01

With Akko left only with a drink and his thoughts, he recalls his recent interaction with the Aduri; the visit from the redhead as well as his confrontation with the Vikaeli father-son duo.  As he thinks about the last encounter, the blast from Nikki that sent him through the second story window, a moment of clarity washes over him. He slams his glass down, spilling much of the remains over his hand. Looking up, his eyes cut across the room, darting this way and that. With a quick sweep and a glance outside, Akko confirms to himself that not only has Nikki gone, but his has departed as well. Cursing himself for not taking notice sooner, he gets from his seat and heads for the exit.

“Akko,” Pietro steps from the crowd on the floor, “You have to come mee—“

“I need to borrow your car,” he replies quickly

“Yeah sure, here.” Pietro noticing Akko’s hurried manner, begins to speak again but Akko is already out the door

Keeping his foot on the gas the entire drive back to his home, Akko encountered several near misses as he went; oblivious to the honking horns of his angry fellow drivers, he speeds on. As he pulls up into the driveway, he looks around into the night, for someone lying in wait. Though not the least bit assured that he would not be ambushed, he exits the car and walks attentively to the front door. He starts to put his key in, but notices that it was already open. Ulrich was not one to leave things open; though he was not afraid to kiss Seneca in public, he was a private person, always locking or closing the doors whenever he entered any room in the house. He walks into the house, unusually darkened; the only light coming from down the hall, a thin vertical line against the wall shining from a crack of the partially open bathroom door. Akko walks over and pushes the door open slowly, stopping upon looking at the sight before him. Slumped over the sink was Seneca, blood dripping from a gash in her head into the basin, a splintered mirror attesting to the damage done. A groan quilling his fears of the worst, Akko rushes forward, lifting her up gingerly before placing her in a sitting position; propped up against his knee as he used his right forearm sleeve to apply pressure to the wound.

“Seneca..” Akko speaks softly, looking down at her as she begins to stir

Her eyes flutter, reaching her hand up, running it across Akko’s face, “Ul…rich..”

“Ulrich..” Akko takes ahold of her hand, turning to the open door, louder now, “Ulrich!”

The silence of the house remains, as if an ominous response. His thoughts betray him, the worst ever prevalent. He turns back to Seneca, unconscious once more, placing her gently against the bathroom wall. He goes into the hallway once more, hastily ascending the stairs, calling his brother’s name as he went.

“Ulrich! Ulrich!”

The door of Ulrich’s room was wide open, the light from the moon shining through the window, down onto a darkened figure that lay on the floor. Akko stands in the doorway, his heart racing as he looks down at the body, wanting to step forward into the room but his body not responding. His feet feeling like cinder blocks, he shakily takes a step forward, then another, his eyes remaining on the body that lay before him. As he drew closer, the form became ever clearer. His brother lay sprawled on the floor, his eyes wide open; a final look of shock remained. Unable to maintain himself, Akko’s legs buckled beneath him, falling to his knees beside his brother’s bloodied and battered body.

“Ugck…Ul…”

His throat contracting, as if a ball had formed, disallowing him from speaking Ulrich’s name; tears forming in his eyes as emotion overcomes him. Placing his hands on the floor in front of him, he bends over the motionless body, closing his eyes, trying to fight back the tears as he clenches his teeth. Teardrops fall onto Ulrich’s face as they seep through effortlessly as Akko’s body heaves up and down in deep muffled sobs.

9:26

Akko had watched as they came, from the top floor of his home, he had looked from the window of his brother’s room, and watched as the lights drew ever closer.  He saw the dark cloaks as a Veldt stepped from each of the three cars that had arrived, accompanying the local police. Upon entering Ulrich’s room, they’d asked him out of the house, wanting it clear as they analyzed the scene.

A small gathering of neighbors and passerby’s had formed; the neighborhood not being one to attract the police, a genuine curiosity flowed through the crowd. The night was alight as the beams from the police cars jumped from wall to wall, flashing against the faces amongst the gathering. Akko leaned against the side of his car, arms folded and looking down, he made it a point not to look as his brother’s body was carried from the home. From his peripheral, an officer approached a pen and pad in hand. He looked to be no more than a starter, his uniform pressed and new, his badge shone against the ever moving lights.

“I know this may be hard for you but we need~”

“To get out of his face!”

Malko walked up behind the officer and brushed past, knocking the pad out of his hand in the process. He turned to the officer, who was picking up the pad.

“No questions,” he said, “find something else to do kid, but don’t bother him.”

The young officer walked away, and Malko put his hands in his pockets as he looked at Akko.

“Pietro’s headed to the hospital with Seneca,” he stated, “he’d come check on you but y’know, sister and all.”

Akko nodded understandingly. Another officer walked towards them, an older man; flanked by a Veldt on his right, Akko knew this must be the DPC.

“Akko Namor,” he said, “I’m District 18 Police Chief Ril Cerverza. These Veldt were put into the force immediately following the Mayor’s announcement earlier tonight,; they’ve looked over your brother’s body and seen a sort of clotting of the air canals by black soot, as well as a number of burns on his body; from that we can assume it was probably an Org attack, but they can’t be sure. If you know anything that could help move the investigation forward, or you just want to talk, here’s my number. I know what it feels like to lose a brother.”

The Chief handed Akko his card and walked away, the Veldt giving one final turn of his head in Akko’s direction before following Cerverza.

“They killed him Malko,” Akko said

“What? What are you talking about?” Malko asked

“The Aduri,” he replied, “they wanted me. I said no. They couldn’t take the rejection, so they killed my brother.”

He clinched his fist, as he looked down at the ground; he began to tremble in anger.

“Those…bastards,” he said through clenched teeth, “I’ll kill them all.”

Malko reached out a hand to place on his shoulder, but Akko moved away. He walked away from the gathering, around the side of the house, and Malko followed.

“Akko, come on,” Malko said, “You’re not thinking straight.”

Akko spun around on him. His face contorted in rage.

“The Aduri killed my brother! They will all die!”

Malko grabbed ahold of Akko’s shoulders and shook him.

“Listen to yourself,” Malko said, “This isn’t you. I can feel the mana in you is imbalanced, you need to calm down, or your emotions will get the better of you.”

He looked away from Malko, his voice calmer now “You’re right.”

Looking relieved, Malko smiled, letting go of Akko, “   Come on, you can stay at my place for a—Nghhh!”

Akko’s hand formed a knife-edge, having been thrust into the abdominal mana point.

“I’m sorry.”

Caught off guard, Malko’s mana was disrupted by the intrusion of Akko’s into the cycle. He lost consciousness, allowing Akko to place him against the side of the house.

“Please forgive me,” Akko said

9:53

He’d thought the walk to the estate might clear his mind, but to no avail. Only a block away, he saw the same two guards as before, in front of the gate, and just as last time, their police counterparts were posted across the street, both sat inside the car. Under the cover of darkness, he went over the gate; once over, he dusted himself off and headed for the front door.

Ninji sat in his father’s office, having just retold of the events that had transpired. Nikita Vikaeli clasped his hands together, leaning forward on his desk. His son had returned alone and battered; the assignment had been simple enough.

“And you’re sure the brother is dead then?” he asked

“Of course,” Ninji said, “but that’s~”

His reply is interrupted by a loud explosion-like noise that shook the room; it was immediately followed by frantic yelling. Nikita looked to his son, Ninji nodded and rushed from the room. Downstairs, five Aduri are locked in combat with Akko, who has kept the upper hand against uneven odds, fueled by his rage. Ninji made it downstairs in time to see Akko take out two of his fellow. The pair had charged Akko closely side by side, but Akko struck out with a sharp blast, causing the two to break apart. At that moment, Akko’s fists swung out with a double Manda blasts at the Aduri to his right. He dodged the shots, but the blasts were curved, striking the Aduri to Akko’s left in the side, sending him to the floor. The other, distracted for a second, was unable to avoid Akko’s leaping Calcit shot as his foot caught the man in the side of the face, before releasing the blast. The Aduri cried out as he received the full effect of the attack, the left side of his face, burned.

Outside, the guards had heard the commotion and rushed back to the mansion. The officers too had heard the noise and called it in, reinforcements were on their way.

“I am your opponent now!” called down Ninji from the top of the stairs

The remaining Aduri encircled Akko while Ninji made his way down the stairs; Akko noticed his current state.

“My brother didn’t go down without a fight,” he said

“That he didn’t,” Ninji replied, “I suggest you end this now before you suffer a similar fate. If you continue, I will kill you.”

“Like hell!”

Akko leaped over the Aduri at Ninji, sending a series of Manda blasts at his as he flew. Ninji dodged them all, but by this time, Akko had met him on the stairs. Ninji brought his hand up to attack, but Akko grabbed it with his own, using his other hand to elbow Ninji in the face. Dazed, Ninji fell against the railing. He regained his senses in time to avoid a fiery downward heel kick that smashed the wooden railing to pieces. To get space between himself and Akko, Ninji leaped backwards with a series of flips. Akko ran forward up the stairs while Ninji sent fire as sharp as blades at Akko, the fiery blades many, Akko abandoned the charge and leapt onto the wall and flipped to the floor below. Only then did he notice the blood trickling down his left arm. He looked up at Ninji, who wore a superior smirk on his face, which was quickly replaced by that of pain as he trembled and fell to his knees, holding his torso.

“Abtono!”

Akko turned, a streak of orangish-red light struck an Aduri and sent him flying across the room and crashing into the wall. The police had arrived, among them, a number of masked Veldt. They wordlessly made their way through the rubble that had formerly been the entrance to the home, with Captain Nul-Won at the front of the group. There were two dozen wands and blade staffs pointing at the remaining Aduri and Akko, encircling the group. Nul-Won stepped forward, catching sight of Akko, he gave that of slight recognition.

“You’re all under arrest, for disturbing the peace,”

The breaking of glass could be heard coming from above. Seconds later, Nikita Vikaeli tumbled into view, falling into a heap beside his son.

“Father!” Ninji yelled out

Ninji’s hands were covered in flames as he stuck out at someone not yet seen by the others downstairs. A blast of platinum light flew at him, striking him in the right shoulder, and sent him spinning around, falling front side to the floor. He rushed to pick himself up.

“When I put you down, it’s best not to get back up” Orojin said, his wand pressed into the back of Ninji’s head

Ninji slowly raised his arms above his head.

[Winter Savior]

5

The door opened, and Akko let out an exasperated sigh as another interrogator stepped into the dimly lit room. An older man, perhaps in the latter years of middle age, loosened his tie as he walked to the table and gathered up the papers lying there. From his seat at the table in the center of the windowless room, Akko watched as the man, flipped through the writings and notes of the last four people who’d come and gone. In each of the adjacent corners on either side of the door facing Akko, was a Veldt, standing guard over him. They had not moved once since Akko had entered the room. Akko noted the speed at which they had been mobilized and put into immediate support positions within the police force. As his eyes cut from one Veldt to the other, he wondered what the urgency that caused this abruptness was. He put the thought aside as the officer tossed the papers onto the table in front of Akko and ran his fingers through his graying short cropped hair.

“You should have reported to the police instead,” he said as he lit a sage, “or at least immediately afterwards—we could have written up the son, Nikita.”

He gestured with the hand holding the sage, to the papers in front of Akko.

“You said there that you saw the younger Nikita leave the party, and returned home to a dead brother. What do you—”

“It’s been three hours,” Akko said sternly, his patience at an end, “I’ve told you everything I know, what more do you need?”

The officer put his fists onto the table and leaned over, staring Akko in the eyes. His gaze was not that of intensity or anger, but it was a firm gaze all the same. The smoke from the sage, wafting into Akko’s face, but he maintained the glare.

“The truth,” he said, his voice low and direct “Not only are you charged with disturbing the peace, but damaging private property,  breaking and entering, as well as assault and battery, perhaps even multiple attempted murders. We could put you away for a long time if we sent these along.”

He rose back to an upright position, taking the sage out of his mouth and readjusting his cuff. The way this man went about doing the simplest things, Akko couldn’t help but think that this man could have been nothing less than an exceptional fighter in his time.

“All I want is the full story,” he continued, before putting the sage back to his lips

Akko leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together, nodding his head towards the papers the officer held “Everything I know right there.”

The officer shook his head, tossing the papers onto the table, “You’re story doesn’t add up – it doesn’t make sense.”

He looked away from Akko, taking a step away from the table, as if to contemplate his next words. Turning around once more to face Akko, he took a long pull of the sage before speaking.

“It doesn’t add up,” he said again as he gestured to Akko, “That the Aduri would so vigorously come at you with an invitation to the point where they kill your brother because you turned them down.” he shook his head again, “The Aduri don’t make blank statements, there’s always a reason, and a matter such as a rejection just doesn’t warrant much else of their time spent.”

Akko watched as the man began to a short pace, back and forth in front of him.

“You owed them money,” he offered, “and your brother’s life was the repayment? The Aduri always close their debts.” He stopped pacing, and turned to Akko once more, an eyebrow raised, “Or perhaps your brother was in cahoots with the Aduri, and things went south?”

Knowing the man was just fishing, but outraged all the same at the accusation that his brother would be in league with the Syndicate; he sprung to his feet and slammed his fist onto the desk, wisps of flame encircling his hands. From the corners of the room, the two Veldt had their wands trained on Akko, ready to strike at any moment. Akko’s eyes glanced from one to the other, their faces hidden behind the white masks, revealing nothing. The interrogator in front of him took a final pull of the sage before flicking it away.

***

Akko sat and watched from his cell as the Aduri were released. He smirked as they passed, the results of the fight earlier in the night showing from their tattered clothes and from bruised faces. The guard behind the group stopped and turned to face Akko’s cell, unlocking the door and bringing it open.

“Come on,” he said, “You’ve been bailed out.”

Getting to his feet, Akko stepped to the door, “By who?”

The guard shrugs, “I dunno, see for yourself.”

He followed the guard to the front of the station, where a well-dressed man looked up from a newspaper, and stood up as Akko and the guard drew near. He was stylishly bald man, slightly shorter than Akko, and wore a friendly smile as he thanked the guard, who mumbled something before walking off, leaving Akko with this stranger. The man extended his hand.

“My name is Juri Tusen,” the man said

“Akko Namor,” he replied, shaking Juri’s hand, “mind telling me why you bailed me out?”

The man frowned, “Certainly,” he said, clearing his throat, “I am the Chief Consult to the Head of the Syndicate.”

Akko jerked his hand away as if he’d just been burned. His expression immediately turned to that of disgust.

“You’re an Aduri,” he said, spitting the word out as a bad taste in his mouth. His first thought was to punch the guy; he found himself clenching his fists to strike.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Juri said, noticing this “I only ask that you hear me out first, then decide if that is still the best course of action.”

“You’ve got nothing I want to hear,” Akko replied, “as far as I’m concerned, every Aduri is as responsible for the death of my brother as the last.”

Juri raised an eyebrow quizzically, “So not at all?”

“What’re you getting at,” Akko asked warily

Juri returned Akko’s fiery glare with that of solemn intent, “If you want to learn the truth, you will come with me.”

Akko stood silent for a moment, before his interest outweighed his new hatred for the Aduri. He nodded his agreement. As he followed Juri to the exit, he felt the eyes watching as they departed. Once outside, a black car sat in front of the station, an attendant holding the door open for them to enter. Juri gestured for Akko to go in first. Akko shook his head.

“After you,” he said

Juri chuckled, shaking his head as he stepped into the back of the car, followed closely by Akko. The chauffeur closed the door behind Akko, and walked around, getting into the driver’s seat.

“So start talking,” Akko said as they pulled off from the curb

Juri turned to look out the window, before addressing Akko, “As I said before,” he began, “I am the Chief Consult to the leader of the Syndicate. Within that job, I represent the Organization in court and work to maintain the red tape keeps the government at bay. That is not my only job but the overall details to which my position entails is of no concern to you, but as lead representative for the Organization, it falls to me to send out members best suited to the task of acting as recruiters of sorts; working as the go between for people scouted as possible additions to the Org.”

Recalling the red headed woman who had come to him at the arena the other day, Akko nodded his understanding. The car made a sharp turn; Juri gave a quick glance out the window before turning back to Akko.

“It has come to my attention that you were given such an invitation,” he said, “of which, you turned down. I don’t know who authorized the briefcase, but we do not work like that. We won’t try to cajole you into joining us with monetary incentive — that’s not how we operate.”

Akko remained silent; he’d been trying to see where Juri was going with this, as what he was saying now, was of little interest to him. The car made another sharp turn, increasing in speed; Akko glanced at the driver, using the rear view mirror to catch his expression, but it remained unchanged. If these two are planning to attack him, their expressions aren’t telling, Akko thought, bringing his attention back to Juri as the car took another sharp turn.

“And we certainly wouldn’t kill someone because of a rejection,” his tone showing his amusement at the idea, “In the last few hours, we’ve gathered quite a bit of information regarding your brother’s death.”

“You’d know all about it since you’re the ones who did it,” Akko said

“Have you not been listening?” Juri asked, slightly irritated, “we didn’t kill your brother.”

Akko about to make a spiteful remark, opened his mouth, but simply closed it again, unable to find the right words. Juri could see the look of confusion cross Akko’s face, and without him asking, he answered.

“As to who did it,” he said, “well that is not for me to answer.”

The car came to a halt, and the driver exited the car, coming around and opening Akko’s side of the door. Akko looked to the driver, and back at Juri.

“You said I’d learn the truth,” he said

“And I’ve told you,” Juri replied

Akko thought on it for a moment before speaking, “Then who~”

Juri raised his hand, cutting him off, “Enough for now, we’ll be in touch.”

The driver made a noise from outside the car, clearing his throat. Akko took the hint and began to exit the car. He turned and watched as the chauffeur returned to driver’s side of the car, and upon opening the door, he heard Juri speak.

“Good job, losing them back there.”

As the car drives off, he turns to the building in front of him, a hospital. After getting directions from the front desk, Akko found himself standing outside of the double doors to the hospital’s morgue. With a deep exhale, Akko walked through the doors and into the room. Though full of light, the beams emitted provided a small amount of light compared to that of the rest of the hospital. In the center of the room, lying on the steel table, a sheet tosses unceremoniously across his body, was Ulrich. His feet felt like cement as he made his way to the table, his hand reaching out to lift the cloth, to see his brother’s face one last time. No, he thought, lowering his hand to his side, I don’t want to see him this way. Looking up from the covered body, Akko had a moment in which he felt like he was being watched. His eyes swept around the room, resting on the darkened office to his right, but seeing nothing, he turned and left the room. After some wandering, he was able to find Sineca’s room; upon opening the door, there lay Sineca, the sheet moving up and down to her slow breathing, and by her side was Pietro, his hands clasped together as he sat bent over in the chair, his face to the floor. He lifted his head as Akko came into the room.

“How’s she doing?” Akko asked, gesturing to Sin

“She took a lot of damage to the back of her head,” Pietro said, “not to say the front wasn’t as bad.”

Akko nodded, “Do you mind?” gesturing to the chair in the corner

Pietro gave a wave of his hand, “Please do.”

Akko brought the chair over next to Pietro. He watched his friend, the look on Pietro’s face showed that he had something to say, but unsure of how.

“Pietro?” he said, his voice low

Pietro got to his feet, putting his back to Akko as he ran his fingers through his white hair.

“I understand that you are not to blame for my sister’s injuries,” Pietro said through gritted teeth, “because that would be blaming you for your own brother’s death.”

At this, Akko too gets to his feet, taking Pietro’s shoulder and turning him around to face him. Both men staring at each other with intent.

“So you don’t say it because you think I’ve gone through enough tonight then? What excuse is that—you think I should have been more aware, that I should have suspected that they would be watching, following me? If you feel that my failure as a brother and as I friend allowed this to happen, so be it…”

Akko’s fists tightened; Pietro tensed, preparing for Akko to swing.

“Because I feel the same way.”

Pietro’s expression softens as he sees Akko trembling from head to toe. He reaches out to embrace him, but Akko pulls away, only for Pietro to tug at his shirt, pulling him closer. Akko struggled, but Pietro’s speed won out, pulling Akko close to him, he held his friend tight as his body heaved up and down.

Malko is preparing for bed when a knock comes from the door. He made his way downstairs and opens the door. Standing in the doorway was a Veldt.

“For the record, you are terrible security,” Malko said

The Veldt gave no reply.

“Well come on in,” Malko says, stepping as the Veldt walked into the house, “have a seat somewhere.”

Malko went into the kitchen and began rummaging through his cabinet until he found what he was looking for.

“Would you like some coffee?” Malko called, and upon not getting an answer, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Once he’d returned with the coffee, placing a cup in front of the Veldt, he relaxed in the chair across from the Veldt, looking on at the masked man as he sipped his own coffee. The Veldt had removed the hooded cloak, allowing Malko to look upon the Veldt’s robes which were a dark purple, almost black it seemed, though there was also a lighter tone as well. The darker purple seemed to be the primary color of the attire, covering the torso, the overly long sleeves, and the outer layer of the lower robes, while the inner layer was a lighter tone of purple as well as the interior of the sleeves from what Malko could see. After noticing the way the robes were fitted against the torso under the light toned buckled leather short jacket armor, he saw that the torso wear was not connected to the sleeves, but the sleeves were connected to the short jacket, which was also connected to the high collar. The only thing that wasn’t purple, black, or connected with anything else was the buckled leather waist belt, covering from the top of the pelvic area to what looked like the lower ribs. Then there was the mask, the white mask upon which was a thin purple V, its point just below where a mouth would be, reaching up to the slanted slits that served as darkened eyeholes, which now looked upon Malko.

“That’s quite a getup you have there,” Malko said at last, putting his finished cup down

The Veldt remained silent.

“You going to drink the coffee or what?” Malko asked

Again, the Veldt did not speak. Letting out a breath of defeat, Malko got to his feet and headed for the stairs, turning back as he made it to the bottom step, to the Veldt, still seated.

“There’s a guest room on the first floor, down the hall to your left,” he said

Without another word, he continued on up the stairs.

His chest still ached from the attack by the Veldt known as Orojin, but Nikita Vikaeli had not let it show as he’d talked with the Kontikoff, Dirzo, about the events that had transpired within the night. He sat across from the Head of Houses himself, waiting patiently for him to speak. He hated the way he had to humble himself before the Koff, his son and heir Nikki hated it even more, but he respected Dirzo all the same. Through the years, he had proven able to manage the Syndicate and maintain stability while other Organizations had suffered internal wars and splits, weakening their power.

“The Veldt are already watching my compound,” Dirzo said at last, gesturing to the window

Nikita said nothing, but continued to give the Koff his full attention. The years shown true upon his face, from the thin white hair that fell to the right, to the lines of his face that were a mix of both wrinkles and scars; his build was that of someone who had once been a solid force to reckon with, but the body had sense grown soft with age. As Nikita met Dirzo’s piercing blue eyes, he could not help but think how easy it would be to take him out and put his family on top. As he lowered his eyes from that of Dirzo, so did he lower his hopes; he knew that it would take a lot of work to establish another family over the Syndicate, and he knew that in these times, a stable Organization was necessary in these uncertain times, he would not be the one to ruin the order they’d attained.

“It’s all happened so fast,” Dirzo spoke again, more to himself this time

“What do you want me to do my lord Kontikoff?” Nikita asked

“Have your House on alert,” he answered, “but continue with your activities as usual. We don’t know what we’re up against just yet, but I feel things are only at a simmer.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

sage: cigarette

Org Structure

The Kontikoff: the ‘Head of Houses’, this is the leader of the Organization; a shortened form of this is ‘the Koff’. The Koff is usually the leader of the leader of the most powerful House, though a challenge can be made by a seated Dux in the Org for the title of Koff, and if the Koff declines, it is the same as a declaration of war. If the Koff agrees and loses, the winner is named the new Koff; this usually gives way to a power struggle between Houses. Upon the death of a sitting Koff, his named successor takes over, usually another member of the family.

Dux: the title of each House leader, usually preceding their actual name (i.e. Dux Vikaeli). The Dux reports directly to the Koff, but runs the inner workings of his House autonomously, with no say from the Koff. The Duxs of an Organization meet with the Koff and discuss matters that affect the Org, but the final say is always that of the Koff.

Citipa: the captains of a House, they are appointed by their Dux. Citipas handle the tasks assigned to them by the Dux and for larger Houses, a Citipa can control a branch of the House in another city, in these cases, they are the acting Duxs of the areas.

Barridans: they are in charge of groups of 10 or 20, depending on the size of the House, and manage the undertaking of the actual deeds being done by the House.

Gints: the foot soldiers of a House, gints handle the grunt work, be it murder, racketeering, smuggling, and anything in between.
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