The Third Eye Initiative (23 page)

Tsaeris sighed again, dropping it. He hated the fact that the Third Eye Initiative was backing away from this Union thing. He thought that they stopped people like that. Then he realized, for what must be the hundredth time, that he still had no idea what the Third Eye Initiative was all about.

“So. Elias. Did you know that they call you ‘Dark Man’ at the safe house?” Tsaeris said, giving Elias a good natured mocking grin.

“
Yeah?” Elias said, a slight grin stretching at the edge of his lips. “You should hear what they call you.”

“
Wait,” Tsaeris said, his grin turning into a frown. “ What do they call me?”

Elias chuckled softly,
and then got up from the table heading to the door.

“
Elias, seriously. What do they call me?” Tsaeris called after him.

Elias disappeared out the door. Tsaeris watched him go, agonizing over the lack of an answer. After it was clear that Elias was not coming back, Tsaeris frowned and stared into his tankard.

“What the hell do they call me?”

The Purity Union issue was officially closed as far as the Third Eye Initiative was concerned. Those issues, as well as a fairly serious injury, had put Tsaeris’ training at a
standstill, but Tsaeris was finally ready to continue.

Things were going well lately for Tsaeris. Elias had found Cyra work at a book store owned by the Third Eye Initiative. Their relationship was as healthy as it had ever been. Meaning that they only fought once or twice a week and almost never broke up.

Niivi ignored Tsaeris for the most part after their unpleasant exchange at the brothel. She did take time to give him a mocking smile here and there, and to talk to him like a little boy. He hated it, but he figured he could live with it. His plan was to ignore her as well, and not react to her little jabs. Tsaeris was pleased to see how much his indifference was irritating her.

Training mostly involved missions with Elias. These ranged from small things like demanding protection money from certain businesses, to bigger things like arson. Elias made it clear that this was not his usual work, but he felt that Tsaeris needed to learn these things first hand. Tsaeris thought it was all a bit silly. He already knew how to set things on fire. What he wanted to know was the reason.

On the surface, it seemed more and more like the Third Eye Initiative was just another crime organization, albeit a very large one. Tsaeris knew there was a lot more to it and those small crimes were only a part of a much larger picture. Money was a big part of it, obviously. Control was another.

Yet none of that spoke to the purpose. This same group had foiled an assassination attempt on Ambassador Bel. Had almost taken a stand against the Purity Union. No
thieves’ guild or drug cartel would have done that. The Third Eye Initiative seemed full of contradiction.

Winter passed and spring chased the powdery white cold away.
Grey skies and falling snow were replaced with darker grey skies and falling rain. Heavy cloaks were put away in favor of longer, comfortable coats. Long coats were the style this year, starting in the Kingdom of Synar. Small as it was, Synar seemed to always dictate what was in fashion and The City followed suit. Tsaeris found it weird that hundreds decided what to wear, and then millions tripped over themselves trying to copy them.

Tsaeris even had a coat of his own, given to him by Cyra as a gift. It was light brown and hung down to his ankles. It was not new, and had long stitches on the sides of the sleeve and a few large and slightly darker patches on the elbows and back. Despite the damaged
, Tsaeris loved the way it looked on him, especially when worn open. He even felt that the patches and stitches gave the coat character. He wore it so often that other members of the Initiative seemed to identify him with it. It was also very useful for concealing all kinds of nasty items.

Spring also meant that the annual Dwarven Arms Fair would soon arrive. As was always the case, the streets became gradually busier day by day as people from all over southern Arindine
came to partake in the great arms fair. The arms fair was still a week or so away. As busy as it was now, Tsaeris knew it would get worse.

Winter had taken
its toll on The City beyond just the snow and cold. Unchallenged, Dormic had been voted into the Council. His first act of office was to push to have Captain Blorick removed from his position. The motion passed and the dwarf was stripped of rank and job. Captain Isaac now ran the watch in Market, and Blorick spent a lot of time drinking at the Tarnished Tankard.

It was odd at first, as Blorick was not a member of the Initiative. Tsaeris had been there when Blorick first arrived and ordered a drink. Elias had told the dwarf to find another tavern, but Blorick told him that he had no friends or family and
nowhere else to go. The dwarf had looked so sad and so defeated that Elias hadn’t the heart to turn him away. A few ground rules ensured that Blorick would retire to his rooms if there was private business happening in the tavern. Blorick was just happy to have a place where he was welcome.

Tsaeris had not encountered the big Union man again. He hoped the man had just moved on. Attacks on elves in the streets seemed to have lessened in the last few weeks, ever since Dormic was elected in council.

Tsaeris was on his way to the tavern, and walked past a construction site. From the shape of it, he assumed it must be another Chapel of the Light. Over the last two years more and more of these chapels were popping up around the city, especially in Market. The Paladins of Light were occasionally judgmental of non-human races, with some of the more zealous parishioners going so far as calling non-humans demon spawn. But the paladins preferred preaching to killing. It was almost more annoying, as far as Tsaeris was concerned.

Paladin Commander
Godfreid was also a member of the Council. Dormic would not find him a friend. Despite the Paladins’ stance on non-humans, Godfreid was a dwarf. Tsaeris guessed that racism must only be a small part of their religion, and they were more accepting than the Union. Elias told him that the racist doctrine was old and archaic, and the Paladins didn’t really follow it like their forefathers had.

Tsaeris entered the tavern and ordered a drink. He sat at an empty table, waiting for Elias to arrive. He smoked his pipe to pass the time. He didn’t smoke very often, but he did enjoy the taste and smell. He blew out a thick cloud of bluish smoke, and watched as it expanded and finally faded in the light. He enjoyed the way the smoke looked even more than the taste and smell.

Elias finally arrived, and walked over to Tsaeris. He was dressed in an expensive looking dark blue tunic and a long black coat. The sleeves of his coat were cuffed white. His short hair was as neat as always, as was his beard.

“
Are you taking me to the ball, handsome?” Tsaeris asked sardonically.

“
Get up. We have things to do,” Elias responded.

Tsaeris gulped back his ale, and tapped the burning tobacco out of his pipe into a small tin tray on the table. He put the pipe into his pocket and stood up.

“Do I need to change into something fancier? I don’t want everyone talking bad about you behind their lavish mustaches while we dance,” Tsaeris said.

“
Do I really need to tell you that we’re not going to a ball? Or are you trying to be funny? It’s hard to tell because you’re not,” Elias said dryly.

“
So where are we going?” Tsaeris asked.

“
Don’t worry about it. And you’re dressed fine. You’re not supposed to look nice, you’re supposed to look dangerous. Wear your sword at your hip for now.”

Tsaeris sighed, and removed his sword from his back and attached it to the belt at his hip. He hated wearing it on his hip, it always seemed to get in the way whenever he tried to sit down. As usual, Tsaeris wore his coat open, and was wearing a
well-worn, dark green tunic underneath.

The two men left the tavern, and walked down the street side by side, brown brick buildings walling them in on both sides. Elias kept their pace casual, and the two men talked quietly.

“You’re only job is to stand behind me while I sit and make sure they can see your weapon. Your job is to look threatening, nothing more. Unless something happens. Then feel free to kill people. But nothing will happen, this is all about appearances.”

“
Stand behind you, look dangerous, kill people. Got it, boss,” Tsaeris replied.

“
For light’s sake, stop trying to be funny. What the hell is with you today?”

“
I’m in a good mood,” Tsaeris said, then turned his head to the side and spit. “Is that so weird?”

“
Just get it out of your system now.”

Elias led Tsaeris to what the middle class folk called
“Fancy Pants Avenue”, a section of market where the most lavish inns and taverns sat and the wealthiest of people lived. The houses were much larger here, and the stores and taverns didn’t seem to have signs. Those who could afford to go to these places knew where they were. Those who couldn't had no need to know.

“
I feel like I’m spending a fortune just walking through here,” Tsaeris quipped.

“
I know the feeling. If it weren’t so damn slippery, I bet the streets would be made of gold,” Elias observed.

“
I didn’t know that gold was slippery. It always seemed to stick so nicely to my fingers.”

Elias actually chuckled at that. Finally they arrived at a large three story structure,
its outer walls made of red brick as opposed to the usual darker brown. The doorway was actually painted white, as were the window sills. Tsaeris thought it looked silly, and would never have thought that this place could be a tavern.

A door man greeted the two, and recognized Elias. He greeted Elias warmly and asked after his health. After an exchange of pleasantries, the man open
ed the door. As Tsaeris was passing the man, he noticed that he seemed to be staring at Tsaeris’ coat with a look of disgust and horror.

“
You like it? Before I leave I’ll tell you where you can get your own. You’d be surprised at what people just throw away.” Tsaeris almost laughed at the expression of outrage on the man’s face, then followed Elias inside.

Another man greeted them when they entered the door. He was standing behind a small podium, and asked Elias if he could help him. Tsaeris decided he liked cheaper taverns better. At least there you could go from door to bar without being stopped and greeted every five feet. The path from door to bar here seemed like a gauntlet of annoying, well-dressed greeters.               

“My name’s Elias Sydarin. I’m here to meet with Manoch,” Elias told the man.

“
Yes, Mr. Sydarin. Mr. Manoch is expecting you. Follow me.”

The annoying greeter led Tsaeris and Elias through the common room. This place was nothing like the taverns he knew. Chandeliers with every candle lit hung from different spots in the ceiling. The floor was polished dark wood and the walls were painted white. Tables were arranged around the room, and they were nicely cut and round with comfortable looking chairs. Nothing like the hard wooden
chairs and splintery tables he was used to.

The man led them to a private room on the second floor balcony above the common
room. The room was the only one on this side of the balcony, allowing greater privacy. The room had no door, only a large red velvet curtain. It was open. Inside was a large table surrounded by four comfortable chairs, the cushions also lined in red velvet.

Inside the room there were two men. One was well dressed in an opulent black suit, and was drinking red wine from a crystal goblet. He was bald and had no facial hair. Like most of the rich people Tsaeris had seen, this man was more than a little overweight.

The other man stood silently behind the one at the table. He wore hard black leather armor and a long sword at his hip. Tsaeris guessed that this man was filling the same role as he.

“
Elias, welcome. Have a seat,” The bald man greeted.

“
Hello, Manoch,” Elias said, sitting across from the man.

The man behind Manoch was staring at Tsaeris. Tsaeris met his gaze. The two men stood there, eye locked on eyes. He wondered if they would have to stand this way the entire meeting.

“Would you like some wine?” Manoch offered. Elias nodded, and Manoch filled a goblet from a decanter on the table.

“
So, how are things going, Elias?” Manoch asked.

“
Fine, Manoch. Yourself?”

“
I’m well, my friend. It’s been too long since...” Manoch said.

“
I’m a busy man, Manoch. So you’ll forgive me if I skip the small talk and get right to business,” Elias said, taking a sip of his wine.

“
Of course, my friend. So what can I help you with?”

“
Several things, actually. First off, the Dwarven Arms Fair is coming soon. More business for you, I imagine,” Elias started.

“
Aye. Which means more money for you as well, my friend,” Manoch replied. He opened a small metal case and produced a tobacco stick. Tobacco sticks were a new fad in the city. It was essentially small amounts of tobacco wrapped in a thin white paper. The dwarves had invented them, and they had become quite popular. It was less work than cleaning and maintaining a pipe. He offered one to Elias, who accepted. The men used a candle on the table to light the ends. Manoch lit a second one, and held it out to Tsaeris.

“
One for your man as well,” Manoch said, and Tsaeris accepted it graciously. He smoked it slowly, all the while staring at his opposite across the room. This was the first time he had smoked one. He decided that he liked it.

“
Listen, Manoch. Opium sales are going up in The City, and we’ve decided to increase the cost of operating in Market,” Elias said. Manoch started fidgeting.

“
This is getting ridiculous, Elias,” Manoch’s demeanor changed instantly. “Your people put some many conditions on anyone operating the underground. You do none of the work, and constantly demand more money. You tell us who we can and can’t sell to. We have to clear every single den and expansion with you. When is it enough?” Manoch was clearly angry.