Ashley Falcon
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Chapter 153: Behind every successful negotiation is a substantial amount of stupidity.
🕑 Added 2022-04-10 11:19:29 +0000 UTCA shadow crossed over mine as Gerial walked beside me. The sound of our footsteps pressing against the stonepath filled the air. The museum towered over us, a single building floating among a storm of mana.
“Anything to report?” I asked calmly.
The air whistled across my body, spinning across my ears, and bringing a voice with it.
“Nothing, Master Silver.” My guard replied. “There is no ambush.”
I nodded at his words. We were preparing for every possibility, no matter how remote.
“We’re clear.” I spoke to Gerial.
An ornate emerald glass door entered my vision.
The entrance.
My hand brushed over its glass surface, cool to the touch, and I pushed it open. The door swung open with ease, and I entered the museum.
Tapestries and murals greeted me, a swathe of colours that hung mutely off the walls.
It was quiet.
I paused as the silence enveloped me. The murals were quiet and unobserved. The muffled chatter that lingered onto the walls of Gesti Sky attractions didn't exist here. There was something missing in the building.
There were no people inside.
“Why is it empty?” I spoke.
I swept my mana sense across the room and found nothing. No mana, no persons, and no animals. All that existed were the walls around us and the exhibits that manned them.
The entire museum was empty.
"Guards, confirm nobody is inside.” Gerial spoke.
The mana around him shifted, a slight pulse that rippled across the surroundings.
He was using his own spells to triple check.
“It's fully clear.” He turned his head toward me. “We’re alone.”
“Not completely.” I straightened my shirt, keeping an eye on my surroundings. “We have an appointment. I don't expect our hosts to be late.”
The paper little Bob gave us appeared in my hand.
It had the address of the museum, and the time he wanted us to visit.
I stepped forward.
My footsteps echoed out on the smooth marble floor. The museum was huge, and our sounds travelled crisply into the air without the chatter of customers to block them out.
"You can fit an army in here.” My voice echoed across the room. “Maybe two.”
There was no staff present either, but a burst of movement in front of me made me pause.
My feet hooked onto the ground, and I skidded to a halt.
There was a single figure standing in the middle of the room.
It was little Bob.
Silver hair glinted under the light of the ceiling regents, and a pair of bright silver eyes latched on to me.
The golem gave us a small wave and then turned around. His tiny legs pushed off the marble floor and he ran further into the building.
Then he disappeared behind a door.
One moment he was there, and the next he was gone.
My mana sense wandered, trying to spot him. I couldn’t see any sign of the boy. I’d watched enough horror movies to know that wasn't a good sign.
“This feels like a setup.” I turned to Gerial.
His posture tensed and he took a deep breath,
"Think of it like he’s giving us a private tour.” Gerial tapped his cheek. “Deeper down is where the painting exhibits are.”
I didn't like to dance to the beat of their drum, but that was why I'd come here.
The first section of the floor was filled with murals and tapestries depicting the Gesti family history. Armies battling, important historical figures and family members, and even depictions of monster hunts.
One thousand battles, and one thousand victories.
It was a monument to the Gesti’s superiority over the other households of the world.
"Hey, I recognise this one." I walked past a war tapestry.
The art depicted four armies fighting.
It was the art used on the board game box I'd played with in my grandma's gameroom. The battle for Illima, or something along those lines.
“The Gesti have a very bloody history. All the immortal households do.” Gerial moved beside me. “Then again, I don't think there are any major powers that got where they are by being nice.”
"You have a point." I raised my hand.
The claim sphere was still lurking at the back of my inventory.
How many of these had they sent to their enemies?
A sudden movement caught my attention.
Little Bob was standing by a flight of stairs leading downwards. He waved at us and then skipped down them two at a time.
"He wants us to go down there.” I gazed at the boy’s back.
A spiral staircase made of ebony wood had replaced the wall, piercing through the ground on its way down to the basement floor.
We made our way down the stairs.
More exploits of the Gesti family flashed through my vision as we made our way down.
The first stop was a room filled with sculptures.
There were frontier cities depicted in sculptures, each one settled by the Gesti. They'd fought the harsh magics of the wilderness and gone looking for more. They waged a war against nature on behalf of humanity.
They'd grown stronger with each conquest.
Resources, symbols, reputation, and power. Frontier cities were as opportune as they were dangerous.
Most of the noble families that inhabited Koshima had been part of it when it was a frontier city. Then they stayed after it became safe.
Nobody sane wanted to risk their lives twice when they already had a foothold of power.
The Gesti chose to continue heading into the frontlines to grow.
"I see paintings." I slowed down. “And— Hey there, little Bob.”
Little Bob was standing at the stairway exit, looking up at us.
"Hi." He waved shyly.
We made our way slowly toward him. This time he didn't disappear ahead of us. His eyes traced our movements, each footstep we took flowing out into the empty surroundings.
“We’re here to see your painting.” I flashed him a smile. “Thank you for inviting us. And for clearing out the museum to give us some privacy.”
Gerial glanced at me and nodded. There was a way to deal with noble negotiations.
No sudden attacks. No confrontations. No direct accusations.
Everything was to remain cordial and light until one party gave in and blew the lid off the charade.
“Which painting would you like us to view?” I asked.
Little Bob clasped his hands behind his back and twirled around to face the exhibits before us, his silver hair flowing around his waist.
The Gesti had sectioned off the floor into dozens of galleries. Little Bob was leading us through a maze of walls.
His head perked up and he strode forward confidently. I lost sight of the stairway in seconds.
The exhibits and walls blurred together as we moved through a dozen different rooms in seconds. Little Bob ignored them all, resolute in his journey.
"You're a quiet kid.” I followed little Bob.
I kept my distance, just in case, but so far everything was normal. There was no magic shifting around me, and the guards hadn't reported anything abnormal.
My ears perked up as I listened to little Bob’s footsteps. Each footfall sounded like the stamping of a full-grown adult.
We stopped as Little Bob walked through a side corridor and disappeared. His head poked out from behind the corner, and he beckoned us toward him.
“Painting.” His voice floated into the quiet air.
This was the room he'd wanted us to see.
It could also be a trap.
"Remember, calm and polite.” Gerial whispered.
We weren't sure what we would see or who we would meet. It could be a dozen armed men, or a single Gesti.
I stepped into the corridor and the lights around me dimmed.
The entire section was cordoned off by ropes.
"Come." Little Bob ducked under the barrier.
I strode ahead of Gerial without hesitation.
The rope brushed against my neck as I moved underneath it, stray bristles leaving a line of itchy skin. I got a clear view of the exhibit as my head rose.
A single gigantic painting covered the wall, the dim light obscuring parts of it from my view. In the middle of the room a silver table had been set up, and dozens of papers lay strewn across it.
Little Bob bounced up to the table and pulled out a chair.
"Sit.” With a wave of his hand three other seats appeared at the table.
One next to little Bob, and two more on the opposite side.
“Nice setup.” I moved to the other end of the table. “Thank you for having us here.”
The seat groaned as I pulled it out, scratching against the marble floor.
It was incredibly heavy.
“Built for a golem.” Gerial pulled his own seat out. “Normal chairs would collapse under the weight.”
I slid into the chair and looked at little Bob. He didn't look that heavy.
Gerial pulled one of the papers toward us and I saw a grand forest and hills. All of them were on fire.
I frowned. There was something familiar about the scene.
My fingers tapped against the table’s surface, and I brought more papers in front of me. Each one held a different image.
Trees. Houses. Cities.
All aflame, all destroyed.
Atop each of the scenes sat an empty sky. No blue. No clouds. A pure white canvas untouched by paint.
"Did you paint these?” I asked.
Little Bob nodded mutely.
My gaze was drawn to the gigantic painting on the wall. It followed the same themes as the drawings. Only this painting was a lot more detailed.
Fire, destruction, and a blank sky.
It was taken from the perspective of someone looking up, a grandiose mansion aflame around them.
The sound of a footstep broke through my concentration.
My head shot up toward the sound and more footsteps reverberated across the room.
A man with a silver mane of hair tread in through the same corridor we’d come in from. His lips were tinged with a smile and his gait was confident.
I stood and gave him a light bow.
“Hello Bob, lovely to see you again.” I spoke.
Gerial rose in unison to give his greeting. Bob glanced over him and frowned, then he turned his attention to me.
“I didn't think we would be seeing each other again so soon, Mr Silver.” His voice crashed into my ear. “But I couldn't stop a strange nagging in my mind, telling me that I knew you.”
He gestured for us to sit down. Gerial sat, but I stayed standing.
Bob smiled.
His focus was entirely on me.
“I had to see you again to confirm it.”
He spoke slowly, carefully sounding out each of his words.
“It was the eyes. You're Lindria’s son.”
Hearing my mother's name sent a jolt down my spine. Then I took a deep breath and reigned in my emotions.
Bob chuckled at my expression.
“The claim was sent to a member of the Jâl family. Not to Andross Silver.”
He walked up to little Bob and gave the golem a pat on the head.
I kept my eyes firmly planted on the man. I saw his every movement and shift in demeanour.
Bob pulled out the remaining chair and sat down in one swift motion.
I sat down the moment he did.
"Bold." Bob’s smile widened. “I'm sure you have questions. Whether I'm prepared to answer all of them is another matter.”
A silence fell over the room, and we stared at each other. A tense atmosphere spread out, Gerial and little Bob sitting quietly beside us.
Then Bob moved.
He leaned forward, his elbows pressing down on the table.
“I hate this part. The waiting. The facades. The strategies. Nobles are nobles but I don't play by those customs. Ask what you want to ask.” His voice was firm. “You have better uses of your time. After all, you're on holiday, aren't you?”
My brows snapped together.
“Are you a Gesti?” I asked.
Bob shuffled back, getting more comfortable. His expression didn't change.
"I am." His voice was firm.
Tap. Tap.
Gerial tapped the table lightly.
One tap meant yes. Two taps meant no.
He had never seen Bob before.
That didn't mean that Bob was lying.
"I’ll ask you something in return." Bob stroked his chin. “The claim, have you opened it?”
He already knew the answer. I could see it on his face.
"No. I never will.” My voice cut through the room. “Did you send me the claim?”
It was a direct accusation. Gerial nudged my side. I ignored him.
This was what the Gesti had wanted.
Bob’s expression shifted.
Emotions simmered under the surface. Anger, annoyance, and contempt. Then they disappeared and his veil of calm returned.
“Bold. My household has blacklisted people for less.”
There was a glint in his eyes, and his stare drilled into my soul.
"What would you do if I did?"
