The Aeterna Empire

Chapter 3 - The Most Efficiently Incompetent

Being a hostage king still seemed to have some value it seemed.

I hadn't seen nor heard from the Emperor since the Long Night but I was still given a certificate to verify living in the lower tower. With it I was allowed free access to the lower levels and the city, though I did not leave it to avoid stirring up problems, and holding it warranted privileges of being able to buy from shops while putting the expense on the government, a necessary thing when one has neither career nor allowance.

"I'll take the strongest thing you have." I stepped up to a bar and took a seat away from everybody. The owner spared me a glance before turning to his bottles and pulled out a horn to pour it in. "Just give me the whole bottle."

"You came in humming. One of those days?" The barkeep asked. He was a kind ol' Ne-Blood, with a good memory for regulars and perceptive of people. Came with the territory I presume.

"You could say that."

From in sight of the bar and the wooden seats was an open window. Right across the streetway was the party and the base floor of the tower. This shop was close enough to be in its shadow but far enough away for rain to hit it. I sent an annoyed eye towards the mass of people in the thralls of their celebration and noise. I heard him place the bottle in front of me, so I reached out for it, but my hand found air. I returned my attention to the stool and found nothing.

Drinking sounds drew my attention to my right. Next to me was a Soran-Blood. Only it was not the Soran-Blood drinking, but someone else. My eyes fell down until I gazed at a child, looking about twelve years of age. His atire was that of a seaman. Tight and short pants, a suit, shirt, vest, a hat hung from cords at his chest, a scarf tied around his arm, and a short sword on his hip belt. His hair was short, wild, and the whitest I had ever seen. His skin was deeply tanned, making it impossible to judge his blood, and contrasting his hair. On his back was a leather backpack or saddle of some kind because the Soran-Blood had no legs and was perched comfortably in it with his arms resting on the child's shoulders.

The child looked familiar.

"Excuse me?" I wondered, increasingly annoyed this child stole from me.

The Soran-Blood's head snapped a full sixty-degrees on its shoulder to me as soon as sound left my lips, and I wasn't sure how to take that. They are so unnerving.

"Thanks for the drink, Chicken-Scratch." The child stopped drinking long enough to flash me a smile.

Ah yes, an insult to my ear. I had to give the kid some credit though, it was a new one. "How old are you, kid?" The barkeep asked.

The kid rolled his eyes. "Tall enough to see over the counter."

"That wasn't what I asked." He took the glass from him and pulled it back, but just as it passed the kid's reach, the Soran-Bloods hands snapped instantly around it, clamping tightly around the bottle and the man's hand enough to draw blood from the tip of its claws. To the man's credit, he didn't so much as whimper.

"Its alright," I intervened. I glanced to the barkeep and nodded. He got my message and relented. The Soran-Blood gave the bottle back to the kid. "He is from the Ref. The lords there are liberal about drinking ages. Comes with technically having no laws."

"Point for Chicken-Scratch! He knows something!"

"Besides, it comes out of the Aeterna's treasury." I added. "Not from either of us." The barkeep got my meaning and stepped away to leave the matter be.

The kid paused ever so briefly, and an expression I couldn't place passed just as quickly, "Even better." Before I had time to question the manner in which he said that, he asked, "Question, I know the Aeterna lives in this tower, but where?"