“So healing me whenever I stub my toe. Those were the prior lord’s orders?”
“It was my duty as your blood thrall,” Lydia said. “Now, it is simply what I wish to do for my manor lord.”
“Right, but, I think I can stand to scald my lips on hot tea. I don’t need to waste magic on me. Do you use mana?”
She leaned forward in obvious curiosity. “What is mana?”
“Magic points? MP? Is there some sort of resource you spend to cast magic?”
“Magic consumes blood. Food and special herbs restore it.”
“Okay.” That made as much sense as anything. He wanted to finish his burger, but now that she’d returned, he’d decided what he was going to ask her about next. He really needed to know why he’d been immune to that obedience fetish.
“So while you were gone, I was thinking, and I wanted to ask you something else about when your old boss abducted me. After he manacled me to the table, he stuck a black disc on my chest. It had LEDs on it that made these squiggles. Are those common?”
“LEDs?”
“Moving red lines. Like magic. Here, look.” He pulled up his shirt to reveal his bandaged torso and, most importantly, the circle seared in his chest. “He stuck the disk here.”
She gawked at the red circle seared into his chest. “He placed an obedience fetish upon you?”
“Yes!” Drake grinned. “That’s what the old fart called it!”
“And did he give you commands? To compel you?”
“He tried. He’d stuck a disc on Westin too, and Westin did everything he was told. But I was immune somehow.”
Again Lydia looked faint. “He could not control you?”
“Nope. He thought he could command me, but I stabbed his dumb ass anyway.”
She gasped. “Then you must not have given him your name! You... you lied!”
He dropped his shirt and chuckled. “You mean you people have magic discs that can compel others to do anything, and it breaks if you speak the wrong name?”
“All targeted magic uses names, and all in this world must give their name... other than you. So is your name really Clint?”
He couldn’t help but smirk. “Maybe.”
She stared at him in visible awe. “You are powerful.”
“I guess?” So the only way he was even still alive right now was because he could lie in a world where people couldn’t. His ability to lie actually protected him from targeted magic.
“So, Lydia? I’d like to keep this between us. Even a secret from everyone else here.”
She clutched her teacup in one gloved hand like it was impossibly precious. “I agree. I have had time to consider your unique abilities while I waited for your food, and I am now even more certain you will lead this manor as the Eidolons intended... more or less. Yet not everyone will feel as I do. You should not reveal that you can lie to anyone else.”
“Deal,” Drake said.
“Now... may I ask something rather sensitive? It relates to your battle with the old lord.”
“Partners. Remember. Ask me whatever you like.”
“Other than the old lord, have you ever killed anyone?”
For the first time since he escaped that torture dungeon, Drake remembered... he had murdered someone today. He felt a faint sense of guilt, but not nearly as much as he would have expected given he had literally stabbed a dude to death. Shouldn’t he feel more guilty?
He’d taken a man’s life. That should be more difficult to deal with than it was. Did the fact that he was not racked with guilt mean something was wrong with him?
Lydia continued into the silence. “If you don’t wish to discuss this, I understand. But killing is never easy, even when defending one’s own life. So whatever you are feeling now... understand that there is not one normal way to feel. Everyone reacts differently afterward, and your feelings may change over time. It may be some time before they settle.”
Drake took a moment to consider that. “I appreciate that. I’m okay.” He suspected she’d had this conversation with other people before, simply because she seemed so good at it.
Lydia nodded. She said nothing else.
Finally, he couldn’t help himself. “So could I ask...”
“How many people have I killed?”
He grimaced. “Did I overstep?”
“It is fine to ask, and you should know. The last time I killed was two weeks ago, when a demihuman infiltrated the manor and attempted to assassinate Lord Gloomwood. We suspect she was employed by Mistvale Manor, but I cannot be certain.”
“So how did you defeat her?”
Lydia was obviously athletic, but she was still slim and shorter than he was. She wasn’t an Amazon like Emily, but maybe she was just really deadly in unarmed combat. Like a spy.
Lydia reached to the side of her skirt, and then a slim glowing knife appeared from thin air. So she had hidden magical daggers that just popped out of her skirt? She truly was a battle maid. That was cooler than he was willing to admit.
Lydia reached for the other side of her skirt and produced a second glowing dagger. “The demi attempted to attack my lord during supper. When she dropped her cloak and lunged for our lord, I stabbed her with my spirit knives. She died quickly.”
“But you were still defending your lord. She attacked first.”
“As the steward of Gloomwood Manor, and as one of your battle maids, it is my duty to keep Lord Gloomwood safe. That has not changed.”
“But that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Someone has to protect this place.”
“Yet you are not the first person I helped abduct on Lord Gloomwood’s orders, and I have not only killed in defense of the manor. I have killed others on the orders of Lord Gloomwood, even when those others posed no threat. Even those who were innocent.”
The pain she was visibly trying to hide pained him. “That was the blood pact, not you.”
“Please, lord, do not... that is not how it was. Like all here, I joined the blood pact by choice to obtain the privileges I now enjoy. I always knew I could one day be called upon to do something I did not wish to do. I just... did not expect to be asked to do so much.”
This was all intensely fucked up. This poor woman had obviously been through hell, and Drake was still only beginning to understand just how bad serving the old lord had been. He also knew he wasn’t going to be able to just say a few words and fix this for her.
“I understand. And I know it may not help much, but... even though I don’t understand everything you’ve been through, I understand why you’d sign up to join a blood pact. This is a hard world. That doesn’t mean you aren’t still a decent human being.”
“Thank you, lord. But understand that if you are uncomfortable with killing, neither I nor anyone here will think less of you. If you wish to leave such tasks to me, you can.”
“No,” Drake said. “I don’t think I can do that.”
“Why not?”
“It wouldn’t be fair to you, especially if I order you to kill someone.”
“But you can no longer compel me to kill anyone, lord. It would be my choice.”
“Still, I can’t just accept all the perks of this job without any of the responsibility. If I can, I want to avoid killing anyone. I think that will be easier for me than others, since I can make my enemies believe all sorts of nonsense. But if there’s no other way but to kill... I won’t hesitate.”
“This is what you believe?”
“Not completely.” Drake managed a smile. “I guess we’ll find out if I’m right the next time I have to kill someone.”
On his world, this conversation would have likely gotten him arrested. Yet this world was very different from his own. Harsher. Rougher. More dangerous. And as a manor lord, he had to accept that some enemies could not be reasoned with. He would have to kill them.
Finally... Drake was tired of thinking of the old lord as the old lord. He wanted a name for the jerkoff who summoned him here. “So, now that we’ve established we use names for targeted magic, what was the name of the last Lord Gloomwood before me?”
Lydia vanished her glowing knives, picked up her cup, and sipped her tea. “I do not know.”
Drake nodded thoughtfully. “He never told you.”
“I do not know if he ever told anyone in the manor his name, lord. He was an exceedingly cautious man.”
Meanwhile, Drake had just been freely spreading his name around to all the manor staff. His fake name. No wonder Cresh thought he was an idiot.
So if he couldn’t have the old fart’s name, he’d just give him one. He wouldn’t even have to lie to do it, just use his power as a manor lord to make decrees.
“All right, Lydia. I’m going to make another decree, but you decide if you want to follow it. The guy who held the title before me? We will henceforth refer to him as Lord Dickcheese.”
“I will tell the others,” Lydia said solemnly.
She didn’t smile. She didn’t even snicker. Yet Drake couldn’t help but chuckle when she spoke the name aloud. It was the first good chuckle he’d had since he arrived.
“Is something funny, lord?”
“It is. I just wish I could explain why.”
“Is the name you’ve chosen for the prior lord offensive in your realm?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then I will eagerly accept this decree. Lord Dickcheese was not a man who deserved a noble name.”
“He most certainly did not. Fuck that guy.”
Lydia raised her teacup in salute. “Fuck that guy!”
Drake chuckled at her fervor. “So, where can I learn some magic?
“I do not know if magic can be learned, lord. I have only heard rumors. But all who share divine blood are born with some form of magic. Such skills are called rarities.”
Rarities! Right! She’d said that word a few times earlier. Now that he had the blood pact under control, he needed to learn as much as he could about these “rarities”.
“I really should understand how magic works here, even if it’s only to ensure I don’t blunder into some magical trap. To start, what exactly is divine blood?”
“It means you share the blood of the Eidolons.”
Right. The twisted fuckers who’d come up with this blood pact slavery system. “And not everyone shares that blood?”
“Correct, lord. The first people were as pure as the Eidolons. Over time, their purity has diminished and diluted. Now, only a select few retain enough divine blood to manifest rarities.”
“So people from outside your realm are born with divine blood as well?”
“I think they must be. Otherwise, you would never have become Lord Gloomwood.
“Right. So if I have divine blood, I must have a rarity?
“No one with divine blood does not.”
“So how do I figure out what that is?”
“It will manifest.”
Drake leaned forward in curiosity. “Is that what happened with yours?”
She nodded.
“So what’s your rarity, Lydia?”
“I can flutterstep.”
That sounded rather awesome. “Which means what?”
“I can step from one place to another in the blink of an eye. Anywhere I can see. I could step from the ground floor of the manor to the second floor in a single step. While using my rarity in rapid succession eventually exhausts me, I find it useful in battle.”
So if anyone tried to fight Lydia with melee weapons, she could just flutterstep behind them and shank them in the back with her spirit knives. That was terrifying... and awesome.
Even if only a small portion of this world’s people had divine blood and rarities, it sounded like those people were powerful. Drake now realized that defending himself in this world was going to be even more difficult than he’d thought.
Anyone who came after his title as Lord Gloomwood could simply pull some bullshit superpower out of their ass.
“So healing me whenever I stub my toe. Those were the prior lord’s orders?”
“It was my duty as your blood thrall,” Lydia said. “Now, it is simply what I wish to do for my manor lord.”
“Right, but, I think I can stand to scald my lips on hot tea. I don’t need to waste magic on me. Do you use mana?”
She leaned forward in obvious curiosity. “What is mana?”
“Magic points? MP? Is there some sort of resource you spend to cast magic?”
“Magic consumes blood. Food and special herbs restore it.”
“Okay.” That made as much sense as anything. He wanted to finish his burger, but now that she’d returned, he’d decided what he was going to ask her about next. He really needed to know why he’d been immune to that obedience fetish.
“So while you were gone, I was thinking, and I wanted to ask you something else about when your old boss abducted me. After he manacled me to the table, he stuck a black disc on my chest. It had LEDs on it that made these squiggles. Are those common?”
“LEDs?”
“Moving red lines. Like magic. Here, look.” He pulled up his shirt to reveal his bandaged torso and, most importantly, the circle seared in his chest. “He stuck the disk here.”
She gawked at the red circle seared into his chest. “He placed an obedience fetish upon you?”
“Yes!” Drake grinned. “That’s what the old fart called it!”
“And did he give you commands? To compel you?”
“He tried. He’d stuck a disc on Westin too, and Westin did everything he was told. But I was immune somehow.”
Again Lydia looked faint. “He could not control you?”
“Nope. He thought he could command me, but I stabbed his dumb ass anyway.”
She gasped. “Then you must not have given him your name! You... you lied!”
He dropped his shirt and chuckled. “You mean you people have magic discs that can compel others to do anything, and it breaks if you speak the wrong name?”
“All targeted magic uses names, and all in this world must give their name... other than you. So is your name really Clint?”
He couldn’t help but smirk. “Maybe.”
She stared at him in visible awe. “You are powerful.”
“I guess?” So the only way he was even still alive right now was because he could lie in a world where people couldn’t. His ability to lie actually protected him from targeted magic.
“So, Lydia? I’d like to keep this between us. Even a secret from everyone else here.”
She clutched her teacup in one gloved hand like it was impossibly precious. “I agree. I have had time to consider your unique abilities while I waited for your food, and I am now even more certain you will lead this manor as the Eidolons intended... more or less. Yet not everyone will feel as I do. You should not reveal that you can lie to anyone else.”
“Deal,” Drake said.
“Now... may I ask something rather sensitive? It relates to your battle with the old lord.”
“Partners. Remember. Ask me whatever you like.”
“Other than the old lord, have you ever killed anyone?”
For the first time since he escaped that torture dungeon, Drake remembered... he had murdered someone today. He felt a faint sense of guilt, but not nearly as much as he would have expected given he had literally stabbed a dude to death. Shouldn’t he feel more guilty?
He’d taken a man’s life. That should be more difficult to deal with than it was. Did the fact that he was not racked with guilt mean something was wrong with him?
Lydia continued into the silence. “If you don’t wish to discuss this, I understand. But killing is never easy, even when defending one’s own life. So whatever you are feeling now... understand that there is not one normal way to feel. Everyone reacts differently afterward, and your feelings may change over time. It may be some time before they settle.”
Drake took a moment to consider that. “I appreciate that. I’m okay.” He suspected she’d had this conversation with other people before, simply because she seemed so good at it.
Lydia nodded. She said nothing else.
Finally, he couldn’t help himself. “So could I ask...”
“How many people have I killed?”
He grimaced. “Did I overstep?”
“It is fine to ask, and you should know. The last time I killed was two weeks ago, when a demihuman infiltrated the manor and attempted to assassinate Lord Gloomwood. We suspect she was employed by Mistvale Manor, but I cannot be certain.”
“So how did you defeat her?”
Lydia was obviously athletic, but she was still slim and shorter than he was. She wasn’t an Amazon like Emily, but maybe she was just really deadly in unarmed combat. Like a spy.
Lydia reached to the side of her skirt, and then a slim glowing knife appeared from thin air. So she had hidden magical daggers that just popped out of her skirt? She truly was a battle maid. That was cooler than he was willing to admit.
Lydia reached for the other side of her skirt and produced a second glowing dagger. “The demi attempted to attack my lord during supper. When she dropped her cloak and lunged for our lord, I stabbed her with my spirit knives. She died quickly.”
“But you were still defending your lord. She attacked first.”
“As the steward of Gloomwood Manor, and as one of your battle maids, it is my duty to keep Lord Gloomwood safe. That has not changed.”
“But that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Someone has to protect this place.”
“Yet you are not the first person I helped abduct on Lord Gloomwood’s orders, and I have not only killed in defense of the manor. I have killed others on the orders of Lord Gloomwood, even when those others posed no threat. Even those who were innocent.”
The pain she was visibly trying to hide pained him. “That was the blood pact, not you.”
“Please, lord, do not... that is not how it was. Like all here, I joined the blood pact by choice to obtain the privileges I now enjoy. I always knew I could one day be called upon to do something I did not wish to do. I just... did not expect to be asked to do so much.”
This was all intensely fucked up. This poor woman had obviously been through hell, and Drake was still only beginning to understand just how bad serving the old lord had been. He also knew he wasn’t going to be able to just say a few words and fix this for her.
“I understand. And I know it may not help much, but... even though I don’t understand everything you’ve been through, I understand why you’d sign up to join a blood pact. This is a hard world. That doesn’t mean you aren’t still a decent human being.”
“Thank you, lord. But understand that if you are uncomfortable with killing, neither I nor anyone here will think less of you. If you wish to leave such tasks to me, you can.”
“No,” Drake said. “I don’t think I can do that.”
“Why not?”
“It wouldn’t be fair to you, especially if I order you to kill someone.”
“But you can no longer compel me to kill anyone, lord. It would be my choice.”
“Still, I can’t just accept all the perks of this job without any of the responsibility. If I can, I want to avoid killing anyone. I think that will be easier for me than others, since I can make my enemies believe all sorts of nonsense. But if there’s no other way but to kill... I won’t hesitate.”
“This is what you believe?”
“Not completely.” Drake managed a smile. “I guess we’ll find out if I’m right the next time I have to kill someone.”
On his world, this conversation would have likely gotten him arrested. Yet this world was very different from his own. Harsher. Rougher. More dangerous. And as a manor lord, he had to accept that some enemies could not be reasoned with. He would have to kill them.
Finally... Drake was tired of thinking of the old lord as the old lord. He wanted a name for the jerkoff who summoned him here. “So, now that we’ve established we use names for targeted magic, what was the name of the last Lord Gloomwood before me?”
Lydia vanished her glowing knives, picked up her cup, and sipped her tea. “I do not know.”
Drake nodded thoughtfully. “He never told you.”
“I do not know if he ever told anyone in the manor his name, lord. He was an exceedingly cautious man.”
Meanwhile, Drake had just been freely spreading his name around to all the manor staff. His fake name. No wonder Cresh thought he was an idiot.
So if he couldn’t have the old fart’s name, he’d just give him one. He wouldn’t even have to lie to do it, just use his power as a manor lord to make decrees.
“All right, Lydia. I’m going to make another decree, but you decide if you want to follow it. The guy who held the title before me? We will henceforth refer to him as Lord Dickcheese.”
“I will tell the others,” Lydia said solemnly.
She didn’t smile. She didn’t even snicker. Yet Drake couldn’t help but chuckle when she spoke the name aloud. It was the first good chuckle he’d had since he arrived.
“Is something funny, lord?”
“It is. I just wish I could explain why.”
“Is the name you’ve chosen for the prior lord offensive in your realm?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then I will eagerly accept this decree. Lord Dickcheese was not a man who deserved a noble name.”
“He most certainly did not. Fuck that guy.”
Lydia raised her teacup in salute. “Fuck that guy!”
Drake chuckled at her fervor. “So, where can I learn some magic?
“I do not know if magic can be learned, lord. I have only heard rumors. But all who share divine blood are born with some form of magic. Such skills are called rarities.”
Rarities! Right! She’d said that word a few times earlier. Now that he had the blood pact under control, he needed to learn as much as he could about these “rarities”.
“I really should understand how magic works here, even if it’s only to ensure I don’t blunder into some magical trap. To start, what exactly is divine blood?”
“It means you share the blood of the Eidolons.”
Right. The twisted fuckers who’d come up with this blood pact slavery system. “And not everyone shares that blood?”
“Correct, lord. The first people were as pure as the Eidolons. Over time, their purity has diminished and diluted. Now, only a select few retain enough divine blood to manifest rarities.”
“So people from outside your realm are born with divine blood as well?”
“I think they must be. Otherwise, you would never have become Lord Gloomwood.
“Right. So if I have divine blood, I must have a rarity?
“No one with divine blood does not.”
“So how do I figure out what that is?”
“It will manifest.”
Drake leaned forward in curiosity. “Is that what happened with yours?”
She nodded.
“So what’s your rarity, Lydia?”
“I can flutterstep.”
That sounded rather awesome. “Which means what?”
“I can step from one place to another in the blink of an eye. Anywhere I can see. I could step from the ground floor of the manor to the second floor in a single step. While using my rarity in rapid succession eventually exhausts me, I find it useful in battle.”
So if anyone tried to fight Lydia with melee weapons, she could just flutterstep behind them and shank them in the back with her spirit knives. That was terrifying... and awesome.
Even if only a small portion of this world’s people had divine blood and rarities, it sounded like those people were powerful. Drake now realized that defending himself in this world was going to be even more difficult than he’d thought.
Anyone who came after his title as Lord Gloomwood could simply pull some bullshit superpower out of their ass.
