francis: The Opening Meeting 2

The elevator stopped and the doors split open, and for a moment Francis didn’t move. Ayato?! He thought, as he kept going back and rereading that last name over and over again. Wasn’t that the name of the King before Brown? What was his name again? R- Something that starts with a damned R… He thought for a moment longer, before he saw that the elevator doors were closing and he quickly placed his arm in between them, stopping the doors and moving them back into their initial position. He removed himself from the elevator and began walking through each of the rooms as his thoughts drowned out the world around him. It was…Ren. Yeah, I remember now. Ren Ayato. He had heard of a dangerous mage named Hiro before. The man took assassination contracts from politicians and others of that sort, until he had split off from them and had started to work solo. He had been told that he was insane to some degree, yet here he was, about to participate in a War that could end with him ruling the world. And if Francis’ experiences were anything to go by, when someone insane gets power like that, their actions become unpredictable. Especially considering the wish that the Kingstone will grant him.

But one thought started to edge its way into his mind. “We have three leads, and all of them will be participating in this succession war.” Who are those three leads? It couldn’t be him, after all, the higher ups were vying for him to win, allegedly. He wasn’t so naive as to trust what they were saying, however. After all, they could very well be lying. Yet, he had a sinking suspicion that there was something else that the fools weren’t telling him. Something important. He pushed open the door to the room filled with the cardboard boxes and started his way down the darkness. The boxes covered him in shadow as men continued to operate around him. So who was it that killed Edward Brown? Obviously it may have just been a mistake and no mage was guilty of killing him, or maybe he had committed suicide or something along those lines. But what reason would have to do that? And how could anyone kill a bastard as powerful as Brown without having magic? It was already near impossible to do with it, so it would be in the realm of impossible to do it without. All that was left were the three leads. No one on this list other than Shigeru seemed like they were within the realm of possibility, but he had no motive to conduct a killing of that sort. Yet, he could be considered a lead. Liam Harris could be the one that may have done it, though only by using trickery. He had fought Brown beforehand and got humiliated, and even worse, Brown went and fucked his girl friend afterwards. If anyone could have a motive, it was Harris. But even he was not strong enough to defeat Ed. George Castillan may have been the killer as well, but he didn’t seem like the sort to do so, nor was he strong enough for it.

Hiro Ayato, however, did have the motive to some extent. If he really was the son of the previous king, it would make a lot of sense for him to gun for revenge. It was well known that Ren had died under mysterious circumstances, and it seemed that the one that had him killed was probably good old Edward Brown. But he had never met Hiro, so he had no idea if he was strong enough to do the deed and end the master of magic that was Ed Brown. If he did get that bitch, I would commend him. Francis walked through the doors to the room and entered into the Empire State’s main entrance on the first floor. The bombshell that was hiding behind her desk seemed to be scared when she saw Francis, leading her to hide behind another woman. She shook as Francis started past her, but he didn’t do a single thing. I’m not in the mood to fuck her anymore. He moved past her and continued through the swirling doors of the building. The midday sunlight blinded him for a moment, before he closed his eyes and looked down at the floor. Hiro Ayato… Francis was intrigued. If this man had truly killed Brown, he would be a large threat to him, someone who would be able to cause a ton of trouble. He sighed and moved forwards, heading past the roads and sidewalks infested with people. He carved his way past crowds of men and women, his head beginning to ache as he thought about what he was to do. I wonder if those bastards will take this paper when the war starts. It would make sense for them to do so. After all, he had the magic signature of every participant in the battle. He could find them at any time and eliminate them. Sure, Joseph and his goons want him to win, but even they couldn’t go so far as to let him have this much of an advantage. They would absolutely be destroying the rules.

So he made a plan. He stopped in front of an alleyway, before he worked his way inside. The further he got, the less people waited around him, and he had more freedom to do what he needed to do. It was when he got to a desolate part of the run down alley that he stood still and concentrated. He thought of his apartment in Los Angeles, where he had the majority of his gear, but he couldn’t feel any magic signature coming from there. He had set up numerous vantage points all over the world where he would imbue an object with his sorcery, from a New York tram way to the deserts of Egypt, yet he couldn’t sense anything. My senses are higher than everyone else's' and I still can’t see anything…something must’ve happened to the coin. He had thrust his magic upon a coin a long time ago and he had kept it in a drawer in his room, but there was nothing coming from it. Francis had to assume the worst in this situation, and so he looked for a signature close by. If he could sense any people nearby that used magic, as long as he’s met them before, he could make it to them. He searched and searched until he found someone. It was familiar enough, hidden deep within the bar that was around ten blocks away from his apartment. He focused on the signature, letting its presence envelop him as smoke started to surround him. He held his breath and let it take him away.

The one minute where he kept his breath closed slowly started to choke him, but that was thankfully when the smoke started to clear and he found himself in a small, dimly lit room. There was a small pool table, a few bottles of alcohol and a bed, with two people on it. The man was large and had a strong, well defined six pack on his stomach. His chest was hardened and his ass was sticking out as hair held onto it, all as he stared in shock at the man that had just entered the room. His cock slipped out of the girl that was below him and he quickly covered it as he stood up and started yelling at Francis. “Who- who the hell are you?! Get out of here, man!” Ech. Francis was filled with disgust as he looked upon the man. He wasn’t interested at all in naked men, not so much as naked women. As the man screamed, he looked at the women behind him.

She was slim and had a bit of a stomach, but the rest of her was more attractive than he thought it would be. Her face, however, was plain and known. “Hey, Erina.” He waved. Her blonde locks flew around her as she sat up, panting. The man looked at Erina and then looked back at Francis, his dick now having shriveled up as he raised his hands and pointed at his partner.

“You know him, Erina?! Who the fuck is he?!” He quickly raised his hands and put his palms together, before glaring at Francis. Magic began to radiate from him as he focused and aimed it at Francis. “Who are you?! Tell me right now!” Francis just stood there instead. I guess he’s mad that I interrupted him.

“I’m a friend of Erina.” He said with a smirk. Erina sighed and put her hand on the man's shoulder, before shaking her head.

“He’s a co-worker. Put your hands down, Chris.” Her voice was still as raspy as ever, yet he found that he was even more attracted to her than before. He stared at her for a moment, as Chris continued to aim at him. The man gulped and after a few more seconds, hesitantly put his arms down. Erina took a deep breath, before her hand fell off of him and she moved towards a small table next to the bed. She reached for her underwear, before she slowly picked it up and slid her legs inside of it, covering up the bush that had been so proud just a few moments ago. Chris continued to stand there for a moment, his eyes analyzing Francis carefully.

“Don’t worry, Chris. I’ve been with her before and I know that she’s good at what she does.” The informant laughed. Erina looked at him with tired, yet annoyed eyes as Chris curled his fingers into the shape of a fist. “You guys can get back to it when I’m gone.” He looked down at Chris’ shaft and chuckled. “After all, I’m sure that what you’re paying her to get with the likes of you is enough to get her wet anytime.”

“Why you-!” He raised his fist and began to stride towards Francis, who was happily welcoming an easy fight. I’m going to enjoy this. He thought, as he raised his arms and got into a fighting stance. As Chris was about to strike, it was then that Erina yelled.

“Chris!” He stopped just short of Francis’ face, his eyes full of resentment and bewilderment, both clashing with each other. He turned around and looked at his partner, who had finished putting her skirt on and was now sliding on her bra. “Both of you, stop being so immature!” She looked towards Francis and grit her teeth. Her voice leaked through her faint yellow teeth. “What do you want, Francis? Why would you come in here like that?” She asked him. Francis walked past Chris and plopped himself onto the bed, laying down as the soft fabric relaxed his rough skin. The two mages watched him as he yawned.

“Why were you guys fucking in the middle of the afternoon? Don’t you guys have work to do?”

“Francis!” He looked up at Erina and groaned. The piece of paper was still in his hands, and so he looked at it and looked towards the lovely lady with pleading eyes.

“I’ve been drafted for the Sacred War.” He muttered. Erina stared at him with astonishment as Chris swallowed his spit and took a step back. He could see the shocked expression slowly leaking onto both of their faces, though they tried not to show it. He looked down at the blood on the paper and then looked back towards Erina. “I have the magic signatures of each of the contestants. I won’t be able to memorize all of them, so I need you to get me some small jars or something that we can place a tiny part of their blood into.” I need to meet someone a few times before I can completely memorize and locate their magic signature…if I get this blood into a place where I’ll always have it, those whores will be as good as mine. Erina nodded and moved away from the bed, before she opened the door and left. Francis could tell that the girl had questions, very obviously, but they had always had a relationship built on favors. If Erina did something for Francis, he would have to pay her back with a favor. The opposite goes for the two as well. Most of the time, Francis’ favors for Erina would be things like killing a specific person or getting a specific text, but most of the time he just teaches her a new facet of magic that she had no idea about before. On the other hand, Francis has almost always either asked Erina to go out with him or to get him something specific.

The two weren’t actually friends per say, more so coworkers (as Erina had said before). Yet, they had spent a lot of time together and knew each other well enough. His brother, Jordan, had introduced the two when he had started to have a relationship with Erina. The three worked on missions together before his death sometime ago. After he had died, Francis and Erina haven’t really been as friendly as they were before. The two would only meet each other if they needed something from the other, which was rare, but it wasn’t like they couldn’t help each other when they were in need. After all, they were both important to Jordan, and they both respected and cared for him. And yet, he died. He thought bitterly.

“Hey.” Chris’ voice pushed against Francis’ ears, making him turn around to look at the young man. He had thankfully covered up his god forsaken wet cock with his underwear, and he was pulling his pants halfway up. “Do you really think you can just-”

“Y’know,” Francis had no interest in hearing this little boy speak. “Where are we even? I’ve never seen a room like this in the Bravo.” Francis had been to the Bravo bar numerous times throughout his time in Los Angeles. After all, it was close to his apartment and had some great liquor. He enjoyed the tequila and what not, along with the women. They came in spades here, he knew, and it would always be a fun magic trick for the girls to see a bunch of smoke pop up around them before they found themselves in the middle of his room. Even so, if he had known that there were bedrooms in the damn bar, he wouldn’t have wasted his time playing with magic just to impress a girl he was never going to see again. Chris’ face twisted into a look of pure disbelief.

“Seriously? That’s what you’re asking me?” He bent down and began to vibrate with energy. “You damn clown. You come in here while I’m having sex, make fun of me and then order my girl around?” His girl, huh? “People like you are the worst…the only reason I haven’t gotten rid of your sorry ass is because Erina said she knows you. And even then, I bet that you being in the Kingstone War is either a mistake or a lie.” His blue eyes slowly looked Francis up and down. “Someone like you couldn’t possibly be that powerful.” He muttered. Francis stared at him, right in his eyes. For a few moments, all was silent. He moved the paper to his side without even giving it a glance, before he squinted. And then he burst out laughing. He fell on his backside onto the bed sheets, rolling around and hitting his fist against the bed, all as Chris watched in shock. He kept on laughing for two minutes as Chris growled and began to shake with anger. “You can’t be laughing at me, no one can laugh at me!” Francis kept on going for a little while longer, before he eventually started to take deep breaths and hid the few chuckles he had left.

“Thank you! That was the first time I’ve had a good laugh in a while.” He grinned. Everything about this man is fucking hilarious! He chuckled as he stood up and started to stretch. “I’ll answer your question. You answer mine.” Chris tightened the grip his fingers had in their curled state, but didn’t say anything. “My name is Francis Rogers, and I’m Erina’s friend.” There was no reaction from Chris, which was what he had expected. His name wasn’t widely well known, in fact, the people that knew him were the ones that were either extremely involved in the previous Sacred War or studied magic. He had no desire for his name to become widespread, after all, how would he go on infiltration missions and the like if it were? And yet, if I become the king, all of that will disappear.

“You said you had…intercourse with her. How are you just friends, then?”

“I did fuck her.” He said, modestly. “But that doesn’t mean that we need to be a married couple, does it?” As Chris was about to open his mouth once more, he spoke ahead of him. “Now, where are we anyways?” He looked around the room as the door opened up and saw Erina re-enter the room, but now she had a large plate that she used both hands to hold. Twenty small shot glasses sat atop them, all of them empty. Next to them was a large pot of water, some of it spilling out into the plate.

“I could hear you idiots from the lounge room.” She muttered as she placed the plate on the bed. The soft leather bounced against the plate and the glasses shook, but she adjusted them quickly and let it sit without any other movement.

“The lounge room?” Francis asked.

“Yes, the lounge room. We’ve been to this bar before, Francis. You should know all about the layout.”

“But I didn’t know that there’s a lounge. And also, where did these rooms come from?”

“They’ve always been here.” She had a look that screamed ‘Is this man stupid?’ and for a moment, Francis did think that he was stupid. Have I really never noticed these rooms before? He grunted and decided to move past that. He went and picked up the sheet of paper. A magic signature can be written and shown in many ways, but the most common is to take blood and imbue it with magic so that it can be sensed by others once enough concentration is put into it. Having even just a tiny droplet of blood with the magic within it is enough, and so he simply poured water into each of the cups and began the process. He took a small teaspoon and dug up a tiny portion of the already small melted blood sample. Thankfully, most of the blood samples weren’t completely stuck to the paper. Most, because Henry Gross, Monika Appel, Osamu Takashi and Hraban Kranz’s samples were all completely stuck. There was no use in attempting to extract anything from them; they were gone. They got lucky. The rest of the samples were easy enough. A small part of the dried up substance was plied off, thrust and mixed into the water, and then the spoon was washed and the process repeated.

In the end, fifteen cups were in use. He looked down at the paper and stared at each of the blood samples. As long as no one looks too closely, it’ll look like it’s all there. He looked towards Erina and nodded. “Can you put them into a refrigerator? I’m going to bring them back to New York, but until I do, I’ll need you to keep them clean and whatever else.” She had a distasteful look written all over her face, but she kept up the appearance and nodded. She owed Francis a favor for shooting a man that was about to kill her around two years ago. He was glad that he hadn’t been so shortsighted as to pay it off with sex. She’s being useful. Francis eyed Chris, who had now put on all of his clothes. He was wearing a suit that laces itself around his body nicely, along with some clean dress shoes. He was about to speak when Erina opened her mouth first.

“What are you going to do?”

“Draft the contestants.” He explained, as he started to stand up.

“But if you’re participating in the War…” She watched Francis with her confused, gray eyes. “That would be unfair to the other contestants, so why’re they just giving you their signatures and letting you meet them before the war?” Her questions are so annoying… He turned and let a sly smile show on his face.

“Those old fucks don’t give two damns about that. They want me to win, apparently.” Chris’ jaw dropped and Erina was taken aback.

“They want you to win?!”

“Are you deaf? Yeah, that’s what I said.” He brushed some dust off of his legs and started to wave his hand in a motion that told them to leave the room. Yet, Chris continued to stare with amazement and Erina tried to understand what her colleague was saying. He loosely held the piece of paper in his hands as he tried it again, before he gave up and said it out loud. “Erina, get yourself and the baby out of the room. I’m going to use my ability.” She looked up and sighed. He could see that she was still thinking about what he had just said.

“I’m surprised that they even want you involved in the war.” She sarcastically groaned. Chris had started to move his jaw up from the ground and Francis had begun to get impatient.

“You and me both. Now get the fuck out of the damn room, otherwise I’ll knock both of you out right now!” He yelled. This time she got the message and pushed Chris out of the room, just as he had begun to understand how to speak again. She opened the door and threw him out, before she looked back at Francis with a sad smile on her face.

“The next time you come back, I won’t owe you for that save anymore.” Smoke began to appear all around Francis as he nodded.

“Yeah, but you’ll still help me, right?” He didn’t hear if she said anything, because the door slammed shut as more and more smoke filled up the room. He took a deep breath and gripped the signature on the paper, thinking about the name that was on it. He focused and focused, his thoughts rarely wandering as he searched for his presence all over the world. The signature had helped him see things better, and it was much easier to find the man even though he was so far away. He couldn’t recognize the country geographically or anything like that, all he knew was that the man he wanted to meet was halfway across the world. Focus… The smoke crawled up his arm and entered his nostrils, but he didn’t inhale anything. He kept his breath hidden, yet, it had started to make him feel like he had some itch inside of him that he needed to scratch. Don’t do it! He honestly regretted making his ability the way it was sometimes, but it was necessary for his opponents. After all, if anyone that entered the smoke inhaled it, they would pass out. It was a good way to protect himself, but it had the downside of not excluding Francis himself. He started to shake as he could feel his both scratching against his throat and nose even harder. Don’t breathe! He grunted and shook as he held the paper even tighter. The smoke was lifting him, moving him. Don’t breathe! This was longer than usual. Maybe due to the long travel distance, the smoke was taking longer to send him to his location. But he wasn’t sure if he could make it there without taking in the gray gas at least once. Don’t breathe! He closed his eyes and began to stumble around, his legs beginning to let him down as he started to crumble. Don’t fucking breathe! But Francis couldn’t help it. He opened his mouth and took a big gulp of air with his mouth as his eyes slammed open, and then there was nothing surrounding him.

Francis looked around at the clear night sky above him and sighed. This confirms it. This was almost definitely some place across the sea. But what country was it? He kept his back on the grass as he kept breathing heavily, with sweat slowly dripping across his body. He slowly pulled himself up after a while with a groan. He was in a clear, grassy field with only a few trees covering the ocean of green. He looked around for a moment, before he began to push himself off the ground, only for him to hear the click of a gun right behind him. No, not just behind him, but right behind his head. He paused for a moment as he wondered what to do. If the gun fired now, he wouldn’t have enough time to move out of the way and he’d be dead in a single second. However, for some reason the rifle wasn’t being fired. Francis thanked the gods that he wasn’t dead by now, but he also cursed himself for being so stupid. He should’ve seen this coming. If he traveled to a random mage and appeared out of nowhere on the ground, of course the wizard would be frightened. He only had to hope that he wasn’t too scared. His hand still gripped the paper, of course, so he had what he needed to make an escape. But what would be the point of that? He thought.

“Listen, don’t shoot me. I’m here to deliver a message.” Francis tried to sound calm, but he wasn’t sure if he was doing a good job. The gun still hadn’t moved off the back of his skull, in fact, it seemed to move even closer. “I, uh, I’m here to inform you about the next Sacred War. You see-”

“The Sacred War?” His voice was cold enough to send shivers down Francis’ back. “Is the King dead? And who’re you?” It didn’t seem like he was faking anything, but Francis knew better than that. The cold metal of the gun kept on dangling over the back of his head and he was starting to get worried as to whether or not he was about to be shot. His voice sounded like that of a dead man’s, and he wouldn’t put it past someone like that to kill him randomly. He took a deep breath, before he let out a chuckle.

“I’m Francis Rogers.” The gun shook a little for a second and that’s when he knew that this man obviously had some knowledge of who he is, despite the amount of secrecy and irrelevance he had tried to maintain. “No doubt you know of me. I’m here to tell you of your drafting for the Sacred War.” He was starting to get calmer as his head cleared up. More air was circulating through his brain now, enough to make him see how to get out of this. “The King, Edward Brown, has died. No doubt you know of that too.” That made the gun shake a little more, this time a little slower though.

“And how would I know of that?” Should I say it? Should I? He thought for a minute, before he smiled. Magic began to flow through his body as he looked down a little. The hair on his arm started to prick up as it got stronger and stronger. Hopefully his agility would be fast enough to protect him here. He chuckled a little and then said the words.

“Because you killed him, Hiro Ayato.” It had been no more than a guess, something he wasn’t sure of at all, but in that moment he completely understood that Ayato was strong enough to have killed Brown. And he was also strong enough to pull the trigger. It was then that Francis raised his arm and as fast as he could, with all of his magic flowing through it, he slapped the gun away as Hiro’s finger pressed the trigger and a bullet came flying out into the sky. The gun fell into the wet grass as Francis’ assailant jumped back, leaving Francis to stand up. He looked upon Hiro, only for him to be…different from how he thought he would be. He wore a green camo military suit along with a hat with the same color. A North Vietnamese badge was stuck on the suit, which surprised Francis. His name was Japanese, so I just assumed that he’s Japanese. Is he Vietnamese instead? That was when he remembered that Brown had died at the Bien Dien Phu, which was in North Vietnam. And here was Hiro Ayato, wearing a North Vietnamese badge. This confirms it. The bastard really was strong enough to kill Edward Brown. Ayato stared at him with grim eyes, eyes that Francis couldn’t see conveying any emotion at all. He seemed to be tired, however. Mud was splashed all over his body and face, along with blood and scars. Francis grimaced.

“Listen, Hiro. I’m not trying to kill you or anything like that.” He could tell that the man wasn’t having it, but he stood back and kept listening for a moment. “I was telling the truth, I am here to draft you for the Sacred War, and even better, I only guessed that you killed Edward Brown!” He exclaimed. Hiro stood silently and stared down his opponent, before he opened up his rough, patchy lips.

“Great.” He muttered to himself, before he glared at Francis. “You have no proof that I killed him.” He said, his tone suggesting that a bit of worry was beginning to infect him. Francis debated over whether or not he should say what he was thinking, before he nodded and spoke out loud.

“I do. This entire encounter is proof enough and I have other sources of evidence as well.”

“What evidence?”

“The correlation between you being in Vietnam and Ed dying here as well.” Maybe I should stop. “Also, the fact that you would have plenty of motive, considering the rumors that plagued Edward about him assassinating your father.” A look of rage overcame Hiro’s otherwise stoic face as he raised his voice with gritted teeth.

“It wasn’t a rumor!” He yelled out. “I made sure of that myself!” Francis thought for a moment as Ayato yelled. Maybe his father’s death is the only thing that I can use to bring some emotion to his bland fucking face. He smiled.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Ayato.” Hiro shook his head as if he were injured. It took a few minutes before he answered, but when he did, it seemed as if he had calmed down.

“In any other time or place I would indulge in this discussion, but…” He raised his hand and magic started to flock to the air within his palm as if they were birds and he had bird crumbs. “I don’t have time to talk to you about this. I can’t leave anyone that knows this alive, even someone that is protected by the Sworn.” He gripped the frozen air around him and brought it into a sword stance, which immediately let Francis know that he had very obviously created a sword out of thin air. He could probably beat him, after all, he had fought Edward years and years ago, and he had improved considerably since then. His opponent also looked like he was injured too, so there was another thing that was to his advantage. But as he thought about it for a moment, the more he began to understand that taking him down here really wasn’t the smart decision. He decided to go with his original idea.

“I’m not going to tell anyone, Hiro. In fact, I support your decision. Edward Brown was a stupid, whoremongering sonofabitch that used the name of King of the World to let him do whatever he wanted.” Most of that was true, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t done anything to protect people. It was more in recent years that he had started to slip on his position and became more of a man that was only in it for the pleasure rather than someone that was truly trying to help. Obviously, Francis supported that. If he was the King, he would’ve done the same thing. Yet, he needed to let Hiro hear what he wanted to hear. It would ease him and make him more interested in talking to Francis. “You did the right thing by killing him, and that’s why I want to work with you.” Hiro looked confused.

“Work with me?” He asked.

“Yeah. I’ll give you a favor and then you can give me mine later.” The young man had a dumbfounded look on his face. It’ll work. “I’m the man that informs all of the war’s participants about what they’re supposed to do, sure, but I’m also supposed to fight in the war.” Francis explained. Hiro nodded, but Francis could tell that he was more than a little surprised by this development. “I have the signatures of every fighter, including yours, and can teleport to the person that I need to go to whenever I need to. I’ll allow you to follow me around and choose which candidate you want to kill. You’ll get their name, all of their information, their magic signature…everything.” Hiro raised his arm and moved his fingers to stroke the little amounts of hair that were growing in on his chin.

“You’ll seriously give me an advantage like this? What’s the catch?”

“The catch is that you have to do one thing I ask when it’s my turn to ask for a favor.” He grinned and kept on holding onto the piece of paper as tightly as possible. “You’ll get to have the first kill of the war and you’ll get information on almost every single candidate for the war. This is too good to pass up.” Ayato stood there for a moment, processing everything he heard, before he looked up at Francis and a terrible chuckle came out of his mouth.

“You’re right, that is a good deal.” Francis nodded and Hiro let the sword in his hands fade away into nothingness as he crossed his arms across his chest. “Fine. I agree to your conditions.”