CHAPTER 3
DAVINA
One month ago
IT HAD ALREADY BEEN AN UNBEARABLY LONG DAY.
The last thing I needed was to trail after some poor recruit through the sterile, echoing corridors of The Paragon—the Republic of Widesight’s base of Intelligence Operations, the continent’s beating bureaucratic heart, and the place I’d called home for the past fifteen years.
Yet there I was, following his nervous, uneven footsteps as he darted past endless rows of closed doors and brass-lined walls glowing with soft amber light.
My boots clicked against the polished white floors, each step sharper than the last as I muttered silent curses at the Supreme Strategos for summoning me at this hour.
Even more so, considering I’d only just returned from my last successful mission.
It had been less than six hours, and Supreme Ludwig Schloss knew how drained centurions were after these. He usually had the decency to give us at least a day before hounding us for a debrief.
This had been a particularly tricky mission, true, but not more so than others in which he’d had the deference of allowing me to have my well-earned rest.
I’d arrived back at The Paragon around midday, stepping out of the sleek transport pod still shaking from three weeks spent buried in the perpetual snows of The Powder, an unforgiving territory nestled in Widesight’s far north.
My task had been to track and apprehend a group of rebels funneling the precious liquid siphoned from the Evergreen Mahogany, commonly known as sap, to the terrorist sect known as the Sapless.
I wasn’t a fan of the term. It was a clumsy, too-obvious label for a group that claimed to fight for a sapless world.
One untouched by enhancements and evolution, by the power humanity discovered almost a century ago and never stopped exploiting.
They intercepted any sap shipments they could, diverting them to facilities, where they somehow destroyed it completely.
Hypocrites, all of them, for I’d found them bearing ink on more than one occasion.
My blood boiled at the mere thought of them. With the amount of sap produced by the Evergreen Mahogany trees dwindling every year, and all the problems that steady loss brought into Widesight, I’d never forgive those hell-bent on destroying it.
As if things weren’t bad enough.
It had taken me an entire week to track this particular cell down, another to confirm such deals were, in fact, real, and another one to bring the leader and his followers into the local authorities.
That was three weeks of miserable cold, biting snow, and endless darkness, of which I’d had enough of by the end of day one.
A shiver racked down my spine at the memory of the glacial currents that seemed to get through non-existent slits.
Even the timid warmth of mid spring in The Paragon had felt balmy when I’d exited the airpod, moist and warm and sweet, with the faint smell of lilacs from the surrounding landscaped gardens.
The moment I got back, I’d made a beeline to the training wing.
I didn’t even bother changing. Just dropped my pack, slid onto the padded leather, and started lifting.
For hours on end, I trained, and right when I was blissfully exhausted, sweltering from hours of relentless activity, right when my mind was only just beginning to quiet, the boy appeared.
He had stammered through the words as he let me know the Supreme Strategos wanted me in his office immediately. I really, really didn’t want to hear whatever the Head of Intelligence had to say that couldn’t wait until morning.
Sadly, it wasn’t much of a choice. It never was, with him.
As we passed a set of heavy double doors, a sharp whistle cut through the stillness. I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see another poor soul leaving their office far later than they should have, the steam cloud from the door actuator dancing in their wake.
Lucky them.
Only the sap knows when I’ll be allowed to escape this place.
Even the torches lining the corridor walls had dimmed to a sleepy flicker, their wax nearly spent, their flames low and lazy.
After a few more minutes of the cadet’s brisk footsteps echoing off the polished walls, the familiar oak door to the Supreme’s office came into view.
A timid knock of the boy’s fist, then, “I brought Centurion Lachlan as requested, Supreme.”
“Come in.”
The faint rustle of shifting papers came from within before the boy entered.
“Thank you, Cadet. You may retire now.”
Supreme Strategos Ludwig Schloss was seated in his infamous wingback chair, the ominous thing made of dark leather worn to a sheen, brass tacks gleaming under the harsh light of a single flame that hissed softly from the ancient lamp atop his desk.
His wire-rimmed glasses were, as always, perched low on his nose, magnifying the sharp hazel eyes behind them, and stacks of documents were messily scattered around the large surface separating him from us.
With a quiet “Good night,” the boy gave a shallow bow and vanished, the door clicking shut behind him.
I took that as my cue, moving toward one of the two visitor chairs and slumping into it without ceremony. Leaning back, I arched a brow at Ludwig in question. If he wanted formalities, he should have shown the same regard for my rest first.
“Centurion Lachlan,” he greeted. His eyes narrowed behind the thick lenses. “You look exhausted.”
“That tends to happen when you summon someone at eight in the evening, after they’ve spent three weeks chasing criminals across the Frozen Circle.” For you, I didn’t add.
There was not an ounce of regret to be found in his expression.
“That went well, I take it?”
“Didn’t you receive the report?”
“I did, but I want to hear it from you.”
I exhaled slowly, crossing one leg over the other and resting my hands on my thigh.
“I caught them mid-deal with the Sapless captain, as you suspected. He was anchored near the Setian Sea. They had twenty barrels of sap ready to be loaded and shipped, but I intervened before they could set off.”
He tapped his knuckles against the desk. The dull thunk made my jaw clench. I hated that sound, like that of a master calling a hound to heel.
“Did you get the ship too?”
I resisted the urge to scoff. Barely. “I was a little preoccupied taking down Odinson’s team.”
I waited for him to acknowledge that it had been the right thing to do, considering it had been my mission, but—to no one’s surprise, really—it never came.
Another sigh whistled through my teeth before I had the mind to stop it. “The captain slipped away during the chaos. By the time I reached the coast, the ship was already gone.”
He nodded absently, already moving on. “Next time.” I surely hoped such next time would be far, far away. During the summer months, preferably. “There are more pressing matters to discuss now.”
I knew better than to expect any recognition from Supreme Ludwig Schloss.
I’d been disappointed too many times over the years to cling to such na?ve hopes.
It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate my work—he did.
He just wasn’t the type to say it out loud.
I’d learned to read between the lines. Every time he assigned me a critical mission despite my youth, and despite the more seasoned centurions at his disposal, I took it as the praise it was.
Because he trusted no one else for them.
“Oh?” I mustered some interest, even though it was hard to care about anything other than getting to my bed as soon as possible.
Ludwig removed his glasses, setting them on top of one of the leaning towers of paperwork. “Does the name Silverion Sircelen mean anything to you?”
I squinted my eyes, mentally rifling through old intel and my studies. “Isn’t he the doctor who patented the use of Evergreen Mahogany wood to neutralize sap abilities?”
“He was.” Was? “He just passed away.”
Oh. “Sorry to hear that.”
I’d never met the man, but I knew of him. I imagined many did. Sircelen had discovered the offing properties of Evergreen Mahogany wood on the properties of its sap over forty years ago.
Ludwig’s expression remained neutral, his nod giving away nothing. “He’s been living in Kobra for the past ten years,” he said, referring to the kingdom extending over most of Eastern Septune.
I remained silent, not-so-patiently waiting for the reason why this was of concern to me at this time in the evening.
“The Chancellor and Senate allowed his relocation, and the King of Kobra agreed to host him. He’d developed an interest in ancient Kobrant history and culture. Obsessed with their old kings and gods, apparently.”
Ah. The luxury of unlimited wealth. Not even international borders held up against that pull.
When, over eight decades ago, someone first discovered the abilities that the liquid flowing through the roots, trunk and branches of the Evergreen Mahogany could be inked on skin to grant impossible, magical abilities to humans, the world changed.
Drew to a halt, then started again. All the efforts that had been made in the development of self-sustained machines were abandoned, borders were closed, all four continents locking down their territories and regrouping to count every Evergreen Mahogany within their borders, knowing it’d become the most sacred currency.
Civilization as it’d been known cracked at its foundations. Power structures toppled, crumbling into a million pieces that we’re still, to this day, trying to put together.
In those early years, governments and private enterprises alike threw everything they had into sap research. Laboratories hummed with the sounds of brass and glass and syringes, and sap flowed like blood in the streets of ancient wars before they learnt how scarce a resource it truly was.
Although not much was known from the others, it was assumed every continent followed the same trend, investing in figuring out how the newly discovered sap could be inked in detailed patterns on skin to confer humans with countless different abilities.