Interlude 1

     Legate Dion was enjoying his stay in Havenwood very much. He almost wished it was on more pleasant terms. The ale was distilled from a special mixture of honey and the musk of those infernal greater dragonflies. Bothersome insects, but it seemed the locals had found an effective use for them. So he drank and tried to keep his ire down.

     The man eyed his watch, it was almost noon. His contact and that infernal beast was supposed to arrive for their report. If they failed as custodians, then that would reflect poorly on Legate and he didn’t want to come across as inefficient or even heretical to his superiors. That was just bad business. Legate hated when business went sour.

     Still, the fact he had been sent here was nice enough, even if it was for work. Even with the annoying insects flitting about, he was enjoying himself. In fact, Legate was in such a good mood that he was hoping to sign up for the hotel’s complimentary massage parlor. Maybe even relax at the pool. The Divines knew the kind of stress his job put him under. It’s not like he would be hurting anyone by taking advantage of the perks that came from the hotel, or even his job. Ooh, perhaps he’d visit one of the floating islands or sign up for one of the leviathan showings. Those consistently captivated the masses, enough so that the House was even willing to allow Havenwood to become a tourist attraction. Bread and circuses were a necessity afterall, and the leviathans more than provided a circus.

     It was always worth it when hiding secrets in plain sight. Honestly, Legate was astounded that it wasn’t common knowledge. Well, maybe not astounded. That’s why he was here: to ensure it wasn’t, and if it was starting to, to diminish that knowledge. Breakouts would happen from time to time, throughout the ages. And it always ended the same way. In violence. Reprisal. And then everyone would get drawn in and the fight would go on for so long people would forget what they were fighting for, and then the cycle would inevitably restart again sometime down the line. It always did. The permutations may be different each time, but the constant, a rejection of what was the norm will always be the same. That’s why it was the constant.

     As much as he tried to enjoy himself, the fact of the matter remained that he was here on business, and the town had been a subject of business with his superiors for quite some time. And that distressed him. He liked visiting Havenwood. If push came to shove, he was convinced his superiors would wipe Havenwood off the face of the country in order to protect their interests, even if Legate argued against it. Interests that the Carick family nearly made public when their youngest son discovered something he really shouldn’t have. Not polite of him at all, not one whit!

     A chittering, louder than what the dragonflies made, nearly set Legate’s heart pounding. He knew that sound. It was the calling card of his contact. Reduva had some strange affinity for the insects, and always made it everyone else’s problem. Legate was ostensibly its handler, but he wasn’t fooling himself, the custodian could kill him if it ever felt like it. Death by magyk or by that monster of a pet wasn’t appealing to him in any scenario. They were the one who apprised him of the Carick family in the first place, and why he was in this mess at all.

     Another cursory glance at his watch, followed up by a sweet savory swallow of the ale. He wasn’t sure how potent it was, but it at least calmed his nerves. And yet his contact refused to show themselves. Normally they were quite prompt. The discrepancy was only a minor irritation. He was little more than a glorified field analyst. That was the downside of the House, he supposed. They weren’t allowed to operate to their full capabilities, lest alerting anyone of the stark reality of the world. But he heard rumors that some of the guilds in the capital were experimenting with an ore that augmented magyk. If that was true, then perhaps they could set up innocuous beacons all around Oros, and just train analysts in telepathy. That would certainly minimize exposure and danger to the organization. In any case, Legate was just about ready to leave when they showed up, almost as if manifesting out of thin air.

     Reduva unnerved him. The beast terrified him. It was like they had come out of the future to change the past. Dressed in some kind of skin tight polymer with segmented armor attached, Reduva looked almost like an insect that was turned into a machine. Or those zany suited heroes that pose all the time during stage performances. But unlike those caricatures of peace and justice, Legate felt nothing but barely restrained malice.

     The monster haunted his nightmares. It was like the Divines decided to play matchmaker with a scorpion and a grasshopper, then enlarged the offspring until it was the size of a cow. It kept looking at him with its seemingly empty eyes, waiting for permission from its owner to snap him up.

     “R-report,” Legate coughed.

     “Ā̷̧ ̵̫͋s̴̹̔k̴͓̓i̶̘͝n̷̺͝ẇ̶̹a̷̝͠ĺ̷͍k̴̬̓e̸̩̍ṛ̴̎ ̴̯͊ẃ̶͓a̵̲͌s̵̭̈ ̸́ͅd̷̕ͅi̶̬̊s̴̳̅c̵̺̋ö̷͔́v̸̜̐é̸̟ṛ̶̑e̸̗͛d̵̘͌ ̸̺́i̸̳̚n̷̤̈́ ̶͍͋t̴̖͂h̶͍̊e̸͖̾ ̶̯̍c̸̤̋á̶͈ṽ̴̰ẻ̷̱s̶̖̀ ̵̧̾b̷̹͌e̶͋ͅn̵͚͋e̷͚̔ǎ̶͔t̸̪̃h̶͈̉ ̸̝̂t̸͖͛h̷͈̒e̶̅ͅ ̴̬̍t̶̡̅ő̴̹w̵̲͑ṉ̴̉.̵͈̎” She – it, intoned. The voice made Legate’s skin crawl. Like metal stretched into poorly imitating a human’s tongue. Every time he had to speak with Reduva, that voice gave him nightmares. Half the time, he was convinced it was on purpose. “S̸̱̕h̶̞͆ē̶͎ ̵͉͆i̸̼̾s̷̆ͅ ̸̫̾c̷̺̕u̸̬͗r̵̝͑ŕ̷͚ḙ̷̃n̵̙̚t̸̨͗l̵̟̈́y̷̩͛ ̷̞̀r̶͉͝e̷͚̍s̷̘̾ȋ̸̧d̶̳͐i̸͚̎n̸̰͊ḡ̶̪ ̸̲̀w̷̜͠i̷͔̿ţ̸̎h̷̦̃ ̷̥̏t̴͚̀ḥ̷͒e̴̡̅ ̶͌ͅC̵̝̓a̸̘̋r̵̟̈́i̸͔̎ċ̷͎k̸͔͂ ̵̫̇f̷̹̎a̶̩̔m̴̹͘i̷̧͗l̷͔͠ỳ̶̦,̴͈̕ ̸̻̍w̸̩͑h̵͘͜ọ̵͝ ̶̱̒o̷̤̚ẇ̵̢n̵̘̈́ ̸̤͝t̷͈̀ĥ̷͉e̴͖͂ ̴͎͐m̵͚͝ï̴̞n̴̬̓ẽ̸̖s̶̯̓ ̸̢̋ẗ̴̢́h̷̗͑a̴̬͊ṱ̵̚ ̷͚̆t̸̮̏a̶̰̚p̷̝̾p̵̭̌ė̶̹ď̸̰ ̸̣͌i̶̠̔ñ̷̠ẗ̵ͅo̵̲͊ ̵̺̽h̵̨̄e̶̹̊r̴̈́ͅ ̶̦̆ŭ̵̥n̸̯̿ḋ̵͔e̴̫̊r̶̟͛g̴͉͆r̷̙̽o̶̝͒ụ̴̑n̵̺͘d̷̲̚ ̷̧̿s̶̮̔á̷͙n̶͙͠c̴̫͝t̶̙̂ů̴͜à̸͙r̴̨̍y̴̺̾.̷̳̔”

     Legate perused his notes. “Interesting. A skinwalker, you said? We haven’t dealt with one of those for quite a while.” he mused. “Has the thing been causing any trouble?”

     “Ṋ̶͌e̴̘̒g̴̠̎ą̸̇t̸̝͝i̵̻͒v̷̜̇e̵̛̩.̵̗̀” Came the reply.

     “Well, then continue monitoring the situation. If the abomination exposes itself, eliminate it. Have you dealt with them before?”

     The monster and its beast chattered to each other, and Legate felt his insides start tightening in response. How the two things could communicate with one another, he hadn’t the faintest idea!

     “Ẇ̶̥e̸͙͗ ̸̯͌h̸̺̒a̷̘̍v̶̹̄e̷̠͒ ̷̦͐n̴̛̬ò̴͈t̵̺͠ ̵̖͂s̷̳̊e̷̺͊ë̵̤n̶̨̓ ̷̬͠o̵͇͗ň̸̞ē̸̮ ̶̼̚b̴̳̒ĕ̸̗f̶͚̆o̸͎͊ṛ̸̀e̵͕̔ ̵͙̀t̴̛̥h̸̯͌e̶̜̊ ̸̪̿C̷̬͋a̸͓̐r̵̬͒i̵͚͂c̸̮͛k̷͕̒'̵̼̊s̴̈́ͅ ̷̯̽ŕ̶͎ę̶̉l̸̙̅ḙ̴͝ȧ̸͔ş̷͑e̴̞̽d̸̦͠ ̵̜̄i̵̲̚ẗ̶̤.̵͇̇

     There was that name again. He started rambling carelessly, focusing on his notebook. “And you said it’s being protected by the Carick family? Hmm, it seems that they’re logged as–” He winced, realizing what he almost said. Thankfully it seemed like Reduva didn’t notice or care, though the beast did chitter quietly in response. “I mean, they’re already logged for observation. Does anyone else suspect the truth?”

     His contact tilted their head, thinking, and the beast mirrored the action. “Ṱ̵̽h̴̖̅r̴̼̂ẻ̸̦e̷̟̿ ̷̤̈ö̸̙́t̷͚̆h̵̺́e̷̝͝r̴̢̀ ̶̰̍m̶̝̐e̴̤̍m̸͖͐b̷̢͌ė̷͉r̷͇͂ŝ̸̼ ̷̲̓o̷̳̽f̸̙̆ ̴͉̆ṫ̴̯h̷̠̄e̵̗̾ ̵̗̽M̴̭͂i̶͐ͅn̷̝͐ĕ̴̻'̷̭̈́s̷̡̿ ̸̮͛ŝ̴̝ḛ̸̇c̴̖̃ů̴̖r̶͚̚i̴̤͝ṱ̸̃ỷ̴̹ ̴̼͋d̴̛̲é̷͎t̸̒ͅa̷̤̒ī̴̟l̴̠͌.̷̻́” Reduva answered. Almost as an afterthought, added, “Ť̶̹h̶̛̦e̶͉͂r̷͍̒è̸͎ ̸̯̏ẃ̷̦ȁ̷̝s̴̰̀ ̶̹̈ă̸̟ ̴̯̓f̶͔͝o̶̮̾ư̵̼r̶̢͝t̴͈̂h̴̫̔,̵͚͐ ̵̘̈ṱ̵̚h̴͖̒e̷͇͊ ̵̮͝c̵̫͂h̵̖̋i̴̙̚e̴̡͌f̵̪̀ ̵̛̩o̶̻̿f̵̣͒ ̷̤͌s̷̢̄ḛ̷̽c̶̝̊u̴̢̐r̴̳̿i̴̯͑t̷͓̉ÿ̵́ͅ,̶̈́ͅ ̴̧̽ḅ̷͑ư̷͍t̴̹̀ ̴̫̂S̵͔̽h̵̦̎à̴ͅd̴̠̽ ̸͖͑C̶͎̈a̶̢͆r̷͓͂i̸̥͛c̸̥̑k̸̻̄ ̸͔̅å̶̖l̵͕̂r̶̺͑ë̴̲́a̴̠͝ḍ̸̇y̸͇͛ ̸̺͝d̷̯͘e̷̛͉à̴̹l̷͓̏t̸̳̊ ̴̼͒w̴͕͠i̷̝̋t̶̼͝h̵̤͒ ̶̧̈h̶̙̿i̶̜̇ḿ̸͕.̶̰̋ ̶͙̾Ỉ̸͔ ̸͎͝h̷̢̊a̸͉͝v̷̯̍e̴̬̊ ̸͎͝r̵̩͘é̷͎a̸͍͘s̸̭͋o̷̲͠n̶̮̅ ̷̨̆t̶̠̀o̵̮̊ ̸͇̇b̵̛͔ë̵͖́l̴̻̍ì̵̤e̶̘͑v̶̮̏e̶͕̓ ̴̯̃h̷͉̆e̶̩͂ ̵̗̔w̴̜̕ǎ̶͚s̵̺͝ ̵̫̋s̴̱͝e̵̩̋n̷̹̾t̵͚̓ ̵̺͊E̸̘͒ậ̴s̷̤̓t̴̖̋ ̷̢̑t̶͔̔ó̶̮ ̵̟̋Z̷͈͘ǘ̴̞l̸͇̉.̷͓̃

     Well, at least that made his job easier.

     “Observe the three workers here, as well.” He replied. “Tend to them if they get out of line. The manner of which is at your own discretion, naturally. I’ll apprise an agent to look out for the security chief and deal with them if need be as well.”

     Ordinarily, Reduva and the beast would leave once they got their orders. Often when he looked away, conveying a sense of instantaneous travel. Instead, the gargantuan insect shuffled forward, placing one of its graspers on his knee. Legate paled and went extremely still, fighting the urge to scream. The cuticle and chitin of the leg rubbed up against him, threatening to pierce clothes and skin before finally, and thankfully pulling away. Reduva nodded as if understanding what the creature just did.

     “H̵̤͒̒̆̎ë̵͍͓͕̩͓̋̀͋͝ ̶̻̫̙̟̼̉̀̆̇̾́l̷̠̥̠̝͖͚̒̿î̶̼͔k̷̯̀̅ȅ̴̤̻̤̘̘̀́̑s̸̘͔͗̆̊͘ ̸͎̠͕̼̇̀̔̃y̵̢̺̬̜̯͍̑̎͛͊͑̏ọ̴͈͗̈́̋ͅu̶̺͊͑̿̋.̷̡̙̙̳͑̿” It said simply before departing, beast in tow. He blinked, and as if by magyk, the two disappeared.

     The moment they were gone, Legate let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. A brief examination confirmed his fear: He was going to need a new pair of pants. And probably a lot more ale.

     He had a feeling it was going to be quite some time before he’d sleep soundly. Or even at all.

     At the very least, Reduva was out of his hair. But that just meant those poor souls Reduva reported on, the security guards, were probably going to end up in a very sorry state. They normally would just give them a nice little reset, erase their memories. Let everything be forgotten and return to the status quo. But even memories can be recovered, so Reduva favored more… permanent solutions. It wasn’t a glamorous life, frankly, it was downright depressing at times, but Legate knew that what they performed was in humanity’s best interest.

     Sometimes though, Legate did wonder if it might be a good idea to just let the humans know that they weren’t alone. He never expressed this sentiment to his superiors, by the Divines, they’d probably sicc Reduva on him if he ever said it aloud. But he thought about it, and wondered if coexistence really was possible.

     Zat!

     Legate cursed and slapped at his neck. A crushed nymph rested in the palm of his hand, and all thoughts of whimsy vanished from his mind. One of the floating islands, Sanctuary, he dimly recalled, also acted as an animal conservatory. A part of him wondered if they had any bugs up there. Another part of him wondered if they would let him kill any bugs up there. The idea sounded promising. Oh yes, he liked that idea very much now that he thought about it. Maybe if he was lucky, he’d kill one that made him think about Reduva, or that awful beast.

     Returning to his quarters, Legate changed his clothes for something more fitting to ascend atop an island, and made the necessary preparations. Mixing business and pleasure wasn’t always a good idea, but Legate figured what he did in his downtime between reports and delivering objectives was his own business. Havenwood was a tourist destination after all, so why shouldn’t he enjoy himself some more?

     Reduva was keeping an eye on things anyways, so Legate figured no one would mind. On the off chance he got in trouble, he could always claim he was surveilling the area for potential blind spots or unexpected activity. After all, just how much trouble could this little town be?