"Remember your mission." she said at last. "Kill Andrew Grayson."
He paused for a moment, pondering what she had said. He wondered how she got into his dream, as he'd only met a select few people who could do that. Had Ezra helped her? No, he didn't have that kind of skill set. She was known to work with a team, so it could be plausible that one of he comrades helped her, but he still couldn't help feeling suspicious.
"Do you take me for a fool?" Caspian asked, kneeling in front the woman sprawled on the ground.
"I can assure you, I have not forgotten my mission," he continued, his voice cold and unwavering.
"However..." he paused, a grim expression crossing his face. "It may prove more difficult than I anticipated."
"And why is that?" she sneered, a mocking grin curling on her lips. "Ezra's favorite pet not as capable as he thought?"
"Competence and ignorance are two entirely different things," Caspian replied, matching her grin with one of his own. "You, of all people, should know that, Lucille."
"Regardless," he added, his tone sharpening, "I assume you're not here merely to trade insults, are you?"
"Correct," Lucille said, her smile unfading. Without hesitation, she gripped her index finger and tore it from her hand. The severed finger immediately lost its human appearance, melting into a dark, viscous substance. It began to stretch and flatten, reshaping itself into a sleek orange file, the word "CLASSIFIED" stamped in blood-red ink across the top.
She handed the file to Caspian, who wasted no time in tearing it open. Inside was a dossier marked with bold lettering:
ANDREW GRAYSON
Sex: Male
Age: 35
Height: 1.86 m
Weight: 85 kg
Occupation: Doctor
Ability:Sunveil
Affiliation: The Aegis League
"How did you get this? And what is the Aegis League?" he asked, confusion clear in his voice.
"We intercepted a van carrying government documents en route to the capital city of Vandros," Lucille replied. "This dossier was among them."
She paused before adding, "As for the Aegis League, we can only assume it's a group of his comrades."
Lucille's grin turned sharp as she continued, "Oh, and one more thing—Ezra told me to remind you: collateral damage is unacceptable. As for what happens if you break that one condition... well, you already know, don't you?"
"Yeah, I get it," Caspian said begrudgingly. "Now, could you let me sleep?"
"Alright, see you later, Caspy!" she teased, her voice lilting with amusement as her body dissolved back into its inky, fluid form and slipped into the nearby lake, vanishing moments later.
"God, I hate that nickname," he muttered, closing his eyes and settling back into his sleeping bag.
The next morning
"You really did all of this?" Caspian asked, his voice laced with innocent curiosity.
He had awoken to the sight of three bandits lying unconscious and battered.
"Of course I did!" Camael declared proudly, puffing out his chest. "They were no match for the great Camael!"
It was, of course, a lie. When Lucille had checked earlier, both Andrew and Camael had been fast asleep. In truth, Caspian had dealt with the bandits hours ago and simply returned to bed. He didn't care about claiming the credit—Camael's absurdly large ego was far too entertaining to discourage.
"That's quite impressive," Andrew remarked, casually gathering the fallen bandits' belongings and slipping them into his coat pocket.
"You never answered my question," Caspian said, eyeing him suspiciously. "How do you fit all of that into your coat pocket?"
"I'll explain it on the way," Andrew replied as they prepared to depart from the forest.
"On the way where?" Caspian asked.
"You forgot already? We're heading to Nimerath-more specifically, to help a dear friend," Andrew said, adjusting his coat with a slight smile.
"I am a doctor, after all."
During the journey the Nimerath
"So, about your question," Andrew said, breaking the comfortable silence. "You saw how I could summon Camael, correct?"
"I am not a mere summon, Andrew! I am the great Camael!" shouted Camael from atop Caspian's shoulder, puffing out his tiny chest.
Ignoring the outburst, Andrew continued, "That is my ability. Every person who uses magic is able to develop one, though it's far from easy."
"So how does one go about getting an ability?" Caspian asked, intrigued.
"Well," Andrew began, "take a carrot farmer, for example. Let's say he's so obsessed with carrots that they consume his entire life—his thoughts, his meals, everything. His whole existence revolves around them."
"Why carrots? They taste disgusting," Camael grumbled.
"If he learned magic," Andrew continued, unfazed, "his ability would likely relate to carrots. If he ate them constantly, maybe he'd be able to transform into a giant carrot. If he spent his days tossing them into baskets, maybe he'd fire carrots like bullets."
"God, you really like carrots, don't you," Camael muttered.
"So it depends on what you do?" Caspian asked, seeking confirmation.
Andrew nodded. "Exactly."
"Then how did you get your ability?" Caspian asked.
"That... is a secret," Andrew replied with a mischievous laugh.
After that, they walked in companionable silence. Their journey to Nimerath was peaceful, interrupted only by the occasional car passing by on the distant road. Otherwise, they were alone, or so it seemed. The forest to their right teemed with unseen life, hundreds of animals lurking in the shadows, observing their every move.
As they passed a clearing, the chirping of birds grew louder. Caspian glanced over and spotted three baby birds trembling in their nest. They're probably scared of humans, he thought. In a quiet act of respect, he raised his head slightly toward them before continuing on.
Moments later, the baby birds returned—this time accompanied by more than twenty fully grown hawks. They circled briefly overhead before dipping their heads in what appeared to be a gesture of thanks.
"You know, kid, the animals quite like you," Camael remarked from his perch.
"How do you know?" Caspian asked, genuinely puzzled.
"Well, usually when a human passes by the forest, they do one of two things: they either vandalize or hunt the animals, or they make such a ruckus that they annoy the hell out of them," Camael said with a chuckle. "You, on the other hand, did neither. You simply acknowledged them and moved on. And in return, they acknowledge you as one of the good ones."
"There's no need to show strength to gain their respect," he added. "Animals don't care about strength like humans do. Respect them, and they'll respect you."
"I never really thought about it that way," Caspian murmured, glancing back at the now-empty patch of sky where the hawks had been. A faint smile crossed his face as he turned back toward the path ahead.
A few hours later
"Hey, what's that?" Caspian asked, pointing to a tall, gleaming building visible in the distance.
"That is our destination," Andrew replied smoothly. "The Blackwood Auction House of Nimerath."
"What's Nimerath like?" Caspian asked curiously.
"It's certainly unlike anything you've seen so far," Andrew said with a faint smile. "This might come as a shock, but the place where you lived before is severely underdeveloped compared to the rest of the country. It's devoid of most technology and machines, but here, everything is automated and digital."
"Oh, and Camael," Andrew said, glancing sideways, "I suggest you hide yourself. Having a walking sun-man perched on the kid's shoulder would draw far too much attention. You can come back out once we're past the gate."
Camael nodded wordlessly and dissolved into the sunlight, disappearing from sight.
For someone created by Andrew, Caspian mused, Camael certainly possessed an interesting skill set.
After walking for a few more minutes, the trio finally arrived at the city's front gates. Given the frequent bandit activity in the surrounding mountains and the political tension with neighboring countries, Nimerath's defenses were nothing short of formidable.
A towering twenty-meter-high wall of stone brick and cement wrapped around the entire city in a massive square. Along the top, layers of sharp barbed wire gleamed under the sun, and automated turrets stood sentry every five meters. At each corner of the wall, fortified towers housed squads of heavily armed soldiers, their rifles trained unflinchingly on ones who neared the gate.
The gate itself was a monstrous thing, as it was made up of solid tungsten and nearly a meter and a half wide. At the moment, it stood tightly closed shut, yet a much smaller gate nearby allowed for the steady flow of sleek vans and armored transports to pass through. To an unknowing eye, the city might easily be mistaken for a heavily fortified military base rather than a haven for the rich.
As they approached the gate, a man in a sharp black suit and tinted glasses intercepted them. He was lean yet muscular, and a pistol hung at his waist, which may have have been empty, yet Caspian didn't want to take that chance. Although Caspian could have easily killed him if necessary, the situation would quickly devolve into chaos if he had to fight the five more heavily armed guards stationed behind him, or the sentries perched in the towers above. Beyond that, the sight of a thirteen-year-old boy slaughtering multiple fully armed guards would raise far too many questions, especially from someone as perceptive as Andrew.
"State your names and your reason for coming to Nimerath," he said, his tone almost robotic and rehearsed.
"The name's Jason Alfonse, and this is my son, Brendan," Andrew answered easily. "We're here on business—one of my clients resides here."
Caspian had to admire Andrew's quick wit; the lie rolled off his tongue effortlessly.
"And who is your client?" the guard asked, his professional mask unwavering.
"Jonathan Blackwood," Andrew answered, his voice steady.
At the mention of the name, the guard's posture stiffened, a flicker of alarm crossing his face before he quickly composed himself.
"I-if you're here to see him, then please, follow me through our exclusive access point," the guard said hastily, stepping aside to open a sleek, hidden metal door behind him.
"Oh, that won't be necessary," Andrew replied with a genial chuckle. "We have other business to attend to, and it's my son's first time in the city—we'd like to do a bit of sightseeing first."
Andrew ruffled Caspian's hair, flashing the perfect image of a proud father, and Caspian quickly mirrored the gesture with an innocent grin.
"If you insist, sir," the guard said deferentially. He quickly jogged back to a small booth—a compact but heavily reinforced control room and pulled down a large red lever.
With a heavy mechanical groan, the massive gate began to slide open, granting them entry into the dazzling heart of Nimerath. Nimerath was a beautiful city, full of gleaming skyscrapers and immaculate streets. Sleek cars glided soundlessly along pristine boulevards lined with designer boutiques, upscale cafes, and manicured greenery. The scent of expensive perfumes and freshly ground coffee lingered in the air, carried by a soft, artificial breeze. Every building shimmered under the sun, their glass facades reflecting a world built for the wealthy and the privileged.
"So, where to first?" Camael asked excitedly.
"To get the kid some new clothes—from a world-class tailor," Andrew answered as he approached the entrance of a towering glass skyscraper.
"We're going here?!" Camael shrieked with delight.
He sure is greedy for someone made of literal light, Caspian thought dryly.
"Nope, not here," Andrew replied, turning left and walking toward a shabby wooden house pressed against the outer wall.
"This is the place where your 'world-class tailor' works?" Camael asked skeptically, eyeing the weathered structure. "Looks pretty rundown to me. Are you sure that human memory of yours isn't failing you?" he added, giving Andrew's skull a comical tap.
"Yes, I'm sure," Andrew said calmly—and without warning, kicked open the front door, startling both Camael and Caspian.
"Was that dramatic entrance really necessary, Andrew?" asked an elderly woman sitting behind a worn wooden desk piled high with papers.
"As you know, Selma, no entrance is too dramatic, and all entrances are always necessary," Andrew answered, quoting theatrically.
"He does it better," Selma remarked dryly as she stamped a few papers.
"I'm merely imitating the master," Andrew said with a graceful bow.
"I didn't know you'd become a babysitter. Whose kid is this?" she asked, rising from her desk and walking over to Caspian.
"Actually... he's mine," Andrew replied sheepishly.
"Excuse me? I must not have heard that correctly," Selma said, staring at him.
"I adopted him recently," Andrew reiterated.
Selma scrutinized Caspian closely. "Hmm. What's your name, kid?"
"Caspian," he answered steadily, meeting her gaze without flinching.
"Caspian, are you being held against your will?" Selma asked seriously.
"Huh?" Caspian responded, confused.
"Because if you are, I will personally beat Andrew's ass and free you from whatever scheme he's roped you into," she added.
"He technically bought me from my former enslaver, so yes, he owns me. However, he treats me like any other parent would treat their child," Caspian said matter-of-factly.
"Brings a tear to my eye," Camael sniffled dramatically, earning an annoyed glare from both Caspian and Andrew.
"Well, Caspian, nice to meet you. And nice to see you too, Camael. Andrew finally let you out to play after all these years, huh?" she said warmly.
"Yes, my lady! I, the great Camael, have graced you with my presence after FOUR DAMN YEARS!" he declared grandly, clearly directing the comment at Andrew.
"You didn't summon him for four years?" Caspian asked, surprised.
"Well, he's not exactly innocent either," Andrew said with a smirk. "He burned down an entire village just because the village chief didn't acknowledge him as their new god."
"Enough bickering, you two," Selma said, cutting them off. She walked over to a brick wall and pressed a cracked, mud-red brick as if it were a button.
After a few seconds of rumbling, a large section of bricks slid aside, revealing the ornate doors of a hidden elevator, studded with gold, silver, and fine wood.
"Well, in you go," she said, ushering the trio inside and pressing the button marked -5.
As the elevator doors began to close, Selma called out to Caspian with a smile:
"Oh, and Caspian, do enjoy yourself."