Purgatory Chronicles - A New Life After Death

Chapter 9 - Dawn

There are two sides to a coin and two sides to a conflict. One works in harmony, one works to destory the other.

- Saying of Lowbeyda

***

"It is problematic to say the least." The words were spoken by the Weaver. The man who thought he was slick and sly, but Viviette knew the truth. He wasn't as great as he thought himself to be. The balding spectacle could spin a web to say the least. His spy networks littered realm nine and he referred to his little secrets as 'whispers'. It was laughable, honestly.

Viviette's own network was much greater. Informants were generally unreliable. How could you hope to learn the most from them when they had incentive to give you information? Informants tend to provide any sort of information for their sweet reward, even if that information is generally unhelpful. Spy networks relied on seeing things through the eyes of others, of believing what your informants were telling you.

One can only rely on their own eyes, or eyes that they own. Even then, it is dangerous to rely on sight alone.

The Weaver would have no way to know if his web was compromised, not without some work. The thought almost brought a smile to Viviette's face. Of course she had already infiltrated his cute little network, and deeply. He didn't even know it.

"These game breakers are getting bolder. What could they desire to do here on realm nine?" The Weaver continued his squabbling. "We hadn't even known they were on the realm. How'd they get—"

"I knew." Viviette stated plainly. Let him absorb that!

"You... knew?" He sounded baffled, shocked even. Like Viviette herself had just spoken absurdity. "Then why wouldn't you move to stop them? Send your Noctari!"

"It is far more useful to observe your enemy don't you think?" Viviette asked, her tone was smooth and filled with amusement. Surely that would anger the Weaver. Poke him a little here and there and see him squirm.

"I think it's foolish." He sputtered.

Aldous Spectre remained passive at the end of the obsidian table. He didn't betray any favoritism, but Viviette knew the conversation was likely amusing him. She was his greatest vassal. His prized possession. His greatest asset. She was his, yet even a servant can command.

And yet, here they were, wasting time over a formality. Meetings are so utterly dull! The only thing that Viviette liked about the meeting room of the Grave Warden was her obsidian table. It was designed more to look rugged, wild, and sharp. It wasn't designed for practicality. A substantial flat surface didn't exist on the top. Only the curves and carvings of the obsidian. Viviette loved to see outsiders deal with her impractical table. The edges were sharp, reinforced via enchantment.

Weaver learned that the hard way. He was already bleeding where he slit one of his fingers. He is trying to conceal it.

***

Carrie Black stood at the end of an ornate wooden table. The twins stood behind him as guardian sentinels. "I've felt the presence of the Game Breaker." The voice spoke, the threading was unmistakable, it was them. The voice that has acted as a guide time and time again, just to disappear to the echoes.

"You and your damn game breaker!" Lysander sputtered. The old man looked wise for his age. Grey hair dusted his face in a beard. His hair was short near the top, but well kept.

"We've had many interactions in the last few decades." Carrie explained to the man.

"And what do you suppose this 'game breaker' is exactly?" Lysander spoke with an air of skepticism and perhaps mockery. "A person, a powerful entity, or perhaps a god?"