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My Own Worst Enemy 32 - I'll Do It
🕑 Added 2025-09-10 18:18:55 +0000 UTC“So we’re definitely killing her, right?” Maggie asks, her tone dangerously flat. “Ranger is a high risk job, and it takes her outside the city. We just follow her out there, pop a few heads, let Nipper clean up the mess. A tragic loss. Mysterious disappearance. Nobody will ever know.”
Maggie jokes a lot about plotting revenge, but this is the first time she’s been actionable about it. I don’t have the time or the inclination to entertain her—if she’s even joking—because even though I can still taste the blood in my mouth, my meeting with the ranger commander has already begun.
“Miss Maev,” she says as introduction, sitting across from me at one of the tables in the common room. “My apologies for the behavior of my subordinate—it was unbecoming of her both as a member of our order and a lady of her station. Are you alright?”
“[Fine,]” I lie, forgetting both my well-planned introduction and the right language to use. “[I mean,] fine. I’m okay. I’ve had worse.”
That much at least is true, but as I wipe my nose with a trembling hand holding a blood-soaked handkerchief in a white-knuckled grip I’m forced to reflect on just how shaken I am. I clutch Nipper to my chest and pet him with my free hand, ignoring the concerned look that Lady Faarah exchanges with Talla.
The truth is, I expected some kind of reaction. I knew I was pushing it, testing the waters with a backhanded compliment. I even thought that I was prepared for the outside chance of a violent escalation. It was a stupid thing to do. I thought I was safe—that it would be valuable to see how a noble who wasn’t trying to ingratiate herself to either me or Talla would respond.
I was right about one part, at least—that was an important lesson.
[Level up!]
Teacher is now level 3.
Student is now level 7.
+1 Ego.
+1 Will (E’ava’al’n).
The gains are a cold comfort. That was no love-tap Mira gave me. Even with Talla’s healing, my nose won’t stop bleeding, and I feel dizzy. There’s no question in my mind—if I had been lower level, or even just lacking in Resilience, I would be dead right now.
It’s not the violence that has me so freaked out. We really have had worse. It’s not just that I was caught off-guard, either. She was just so...casual about it. Mira wasn’t trying to kill me, but I know that she wouldn’t have so much as blinked if she had. And...neither would anyone else.
Talla and Draga are concerned, and the Grandmistress is apologetic. But what’s really freaking me out is that none of them are freaking out. The word she used. “Unbecoming.” Like slapping me across the room for a vague slight wasn’t wrong or excessive, just embarrassing. With one punch, she shattered any illusion of safety I might have had, and now it’s like I’m right back in that horrible cave.
I realize, belatedly, that I’ve been staring a hole in the table and ignoring Lady Faarah.
“[Sorry,] what?”
She furrows her brows and sighs. “We can do this another time, if you’re unwell.”
I shake my head, wincing slightly as the motion causes it to throb painfully—I might have a slight concussion. “No. It’s okay.” I try to center myself and focus. Be direct, Draga said. “What do you want?”
Not that direct! Frick! Maybe I should put this off.
“I’ve received reports from Talla and Draga, but I was hoping you could fill in a few gaps,” she says, not showing any offense. “Before you encountered the ranger team, did you see any sign of Priestess Kiera or the others inside the convergence point?”
This is a weird way to do an interrogation or questioning. We’re in a semi-private place, but half the room is probably eavesdropping on this conversation. Draga and Talla are right here, which means that if they had been pressuring me into answering a certain way, it would be difficult for me to answer honestly—and they’ve had more than enough time to drill a story into me.
I can only think of two possibilities. Either the person in charge of the entire organization of rangers—the leader that both Talla and Draga respect—is incompetent or... Or this is all just theater. There’s already an official story, and it’s not going to change. This is Faarah’s way of controlling the unofficial story.
“Just tell her the truth,” Evie insists. “You have an opportunity to set things right here and now. You may not get another.”
“No,” I mutter, responding to both her and Lady Faarah at once. “I discovered what I later learned were their belongings, abandoned, but no remains.”
I’ve practiced that one—maybe a bit too well. If I were at a hundred percent it wouldn’t be an issue, but the rehearsed statement feels weird in contrast to my earlier fumbling.
I don’t think it matters. She’s expecting me to lie.
“I see. And your CCAT is...” she looks me over, and a shudder runs down my spine as I’m briefly overcome with the unshakable feeling of being observed on a fundamental level. Her eyes widen briefly, but then she schools her expression. “Under two hundred. How did you survive inside the convergence point?”
CCAT—that’s the method rangers use to estimate individual strength. I guess she has some kind of appraisal ability that lets her see my attribute total. I hope that’s all it lets her see—I’d prefer to keep a few secrets to myself.
“I almost didn’t,” I answer—this time from the heart. “I was half dead when they found me. More than half. Lost, naked, and alone—slowly starving to death.”
The corner of her mouth quirks upwards slightly, as if she’s suppressing a smile. I’m not sure what she finds so funny about that, but I guess it was the answer she’s looking for.
“Alright, thank you,” she says. “That’s all for now.”
I blink. “Just that?”
“I was considering offering you a probationary commission after Draga described the on-site training you were given.”
A shock of panic rises faster than I can control it, causing my entire body to tense up all at once.
“No!” I yelp loudly before regaining control of myself, blushing slightly from the outburst. “I mean—no thank you. I’ve had more than my fill of convergence points.”
“That’s about what I expected,” Faarah replies with a nod. “Besides, two-hundred is worse than just rookie numbers. You’re a kid that’s barely got her core class together. You would be a liability to yourself and any team I put you on.”
“Hey!” Vi protests. “We’re more than capable of pulling our own—”
I pinch the meat of my forearm hard to interrupt her.
“Ow!” she cries. “What was that for?”
“[She’s doing us a favor by downplaying our capabilities,]” I mutter, as close to subvocalization as I can manage. “[Shut up.]”
“Nobody can hear us anyway—except maybe Talla,” Mags argues. “Who cares?”
I’d rather not take that chance. If Talla can do it, then it must be possible for others to do the same.
“Understood,” I say, returning my attention to Faarah. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
She chews on her lip for a moment, considering. “A tribunal is being arranged to judge Sir Draga’s conduct and determine the status of his commission,” she says. “I’d like you to testify what you’ve said today to that tribunal.”
Draga steps forward to interject, but she holds up a hand to forestall him.
“This is not an order, or a demand,” she continues. “Take your time to consider the request. I’d consider it a personal favor, but you are under no obligation.”
“What are the stakes?” I ask.
Draga’s already explained most of it, and I’ve had all the time in the world to imagine nightmare scenarios, but I want to hear it from somebody else.
“At the tribunal? I can ensure that the worst case is the revocation of his commission and permanent discharge from the order,” she says. “But I won’t have any control of what happens afterwards.”
She leaves a lot unsaid, but deliberately slides her eyes to the swollen bruise on the side of my head. I read her message loud and clear. If this is what an angry noble can get away with over a minor insult, then Draga will have much worse coming for him without the order’s protection.
“I’ll do it,” I declare.
“You don’t have to make a decision right—”
“I said I’ll do it,” I repeat firmly.
The cat’s already out of the bag as far as keeping my head down goes, and I’m not so much of an ungrateful coward that I can’t at least speak up in defense of someone to whom I literally owe my life. I’ll say whatever they want me to say to whoever needs to hear it.
“Thank you,” she says quietly. “Then I believe we’re finished here. I appreciate your cooperation, Miss Maev.”
“I’m glad I could help,” I reply with a slight bow. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Faarah.”
“Likewise. I don’t envy your position, but if there’s anything our order can do for you, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
I sigh. “What exactly is my position?” I ask. “Lady Goa explained some of it, but I got the impression that she wasn’t giving me the whole story.”
Talla gives me a curious look, but the Grandmistress ignores her, frowning as she considers the question.
“I wish I knew, to be honest. The fact that someone’s been keeping a convergence point hidden from us is disturbing, but I’m not important enough to know the answers to your deeper questions. What I can tell you is that you’ve caught the attention of some powerful and dangerous people, and not all of them are the type to act in the open. Be careful.”
“I will, thank you.”
She gives me a sardonic grin as she stands. “And try not to provoke any more nobles. Mira’s got a short temper, but she cools off fast. Harmless in the grand scheme of things.” Her expression goes somber as she holds my gaze. “Piss off someone really dangerous and it’s not a bloody nose or a black eye you need to worry about. Understand?”
I swallow nervously, the coppery tang of blood a solemn reminder of just how close to the edge I’m walking. “I think so, yes.”
“Good. Farewell, Miss Maev. If all goes well, we’ll meet again at the tribunal.”
As she departs, a tiny pressure lifts, and the background noise of the common room suddenly becomes more clear, as if my ears just popped. Was she blocking the sound? When did she start doing that? I didn’t even notice.
Talla, who’d been standing by the entire time, slumps down into the cushions next to me, letting out a huge sigh of relief.
“Phew! Blood and acid that was stressful,” she groans. “I’m really impressed you managed to keep your cool in front of her—I mean, aside from the start but that’s understandable.”
I furrow my brows. “What do you mean? She seemed nice. A little intense, but I think Jira was more stressful to talk to.”
“Are you kidding?!” she exclaims. “When I said I’d met worse, Lady Faarah is who I was thinking of. She always makes me feel so small.”
“I always feel small,” I joke. “Honestly, I think she’s more stressed than I am, if that’s even possible. You’re lucky to have such a good boss, Draga.”
“She’s an inspiration,” he agrees. “I only hope that she doesn’t stake too much of her reputation on protecting someone like me.”
He’s still standing at floor level, so I punch him in the shin. “Don’t say that! You should value yourself more.”
“Maybe,” he replies noncommittally.
“Well,” Talla sighs. “On that depressing note—Allie, now that you’ve got a passport, how about we go do something fun for a change? I think we could all use a break.”
I perk up a bit at that. Not that I’ve been too bored at the estate, since there’s plenty of interesting people to talk to, but it really would be nice to take my mind off of things for a bit.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Hmm, that depends,” she muses. “Do you want something more physically engaging, or intellectual?”
I rub at the still-sore bump on my head, frowning. “I think I’ve had more than enough physical engagement for one day. Intellectual, please.”
“Then I know just the place!”
Comments
Cellinia
Maggie would've gone for the physical option 😉😉😉
