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VoC: B1 — 29. The Boss
🕑 Added 2025-09-26 22:48:53 +0000 UTCPoV:
1. Damon (Our Dark Elf Prince!)
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A commotion erupted in the corridor—multiple voices, heavy footsteps, and what sounded like someone shouting orders. Copper scampered back to him, taking up a defensive posture as if drawing some kind of strength from Merana’s bonded creatures. As for her, she simply fell to her back, crossed her legs, and stared up at the ceiling, a momentary look of pained, cathartic relief passing over her before it vanished like the wind.
A moment later, the door burst open and a man strode in, his face flushed with anger and exasperation.
“What do you mean you’ve captured a snow elf?!” he bellowed at the air, apparently continuing an argument that had started elsewhere. “Are you complete morons? The only snow elf who would be this far south would be Merana Thorn! Idiots, treating someone like her as a common criminal!”
The boss was a man in his forties with the build of someone who’d traded physical labor for administrative work but retained the underlying strength. His clothes spoke of prosperity—well-tailored but practical, expensive without being ostentatious. But it was his eyes that caught Damon’s attention: sharp, calculating, and currently reflecting a mixture of terror and nostalgic affection as they fixed on Merana.
He grabbed a chair, flipped it around, and sat facing Merana’s cell, studying her with a weary sigh. “It’s been a while, Merana. You don’t remember me, do you?”
Damon lifted an eyebrow at that.
Where is this going to go?
Merana’s expression brightened with genuine warmth as she lazily tilted her head to view the newcomers, her tattoos illuminating slightly as something far larger than this room could support growled, vibrating the air before she responded.
“How could I forget the little boy who asked me for a wyvern scale and offered me his most valuable possession—a pretty red stone he’d found in the river?”
Well, damn, I guess that’s what you get for being over a hundred years old. She has a history.
The man sucked in his cheeks, nodding slightly. Damon could see him reflecting on the path his life had taken, probably comparing his current circumstances to the innocent child he’d once been. Merana looked exactly the same, of course—elven longevity freezing her in time while he aged.
He reached into his shirt and pulled out a necklace bearing a large, opalescent scale that caught the light like captured flame.
“This changed my life,” he said simply, then reached into his pocket and produced the copper coin that had gotten Damon arrested. “I hope this will make up for the trouble. This will never happen again. I swear that.”
Damon wanted to roll his eyes at the gesture. It was simple and showed where he put his value: monetary compensation. Yet, Merana caught the coin without hesitation, spinning it around her fingers expertly before tossing it…right at him. He barely managed to snatch it before it struck him between the eyes, causing the guards to flinch and the boss to smile curiously.
“Payment for the conversation, kid,” she chuckled with amusement, “even if it’s a weak gesture for the weight I put on you.”
Damon looked at the mouse tattoo with new understanding as she rubbed Luna’s head. She was the one who could read minds, while her Rosen Eye catalogued the whole soul. It made sense she’d want to be more selective on that use.
“So, how does a fisherman’s son with a river stone end up running underground monster fights?” Merana asked conversationally, her legs rising as she dexterously flipped backward to land on her feet.
The boss laughed ruefully. “I see you met our newest reincarnate… Why did you put him in the cell, too, idiots?” he snapped at the guards, who flinched, but Damon could see when a man was trying to shift blame. The way he looked at him made it clear he’d wanted to exploit the situation before Merana got involved.
“Sorry, boss.”
“We’ll release them right away…”
“Bah. Despite the mixup, isn’t it funny how life works? I bet you’re thinking, as for this operation, once they pass that law about monster battles, this whole thing will be shut down.”
Stretching her arms left and right in a suggestive way, the snow elf giggled. “You don’t sound worried about that little push that’s happening. This whole thing is based in a legally gray area that you’re probably already paying a fortune to keep going.”
He shrugged. “Meh. That law’s been debated for a decade now. It’ll still be going through revisions when I’m dead. Plus…” He glanced around meaningfully. “Lot of my best clients sit in those same debate halls. They’re hooked good.”
“And the ethical concerns?”
“Ah. You do bond with the type,” he sighed with a strained smile while glancing at the tattooed creatures burning a hole through him with their vision alone. “They’re monsters. They’d be getting gutted in dungeons anyway. At least this way, someone profits. Isn’t that providing some good in the world?”
Merana’s head tilted to the side thoughtfully, “Interesting justification. It is certainly one way to view it,” she stated, neither approving nor condemning. Simply observing and cataloging information.
“In any case, I’m looking forward to seeing Copper in action,” she redirected, making the man’s smile become more forced as she gave Damon more and more ammunition to ‘balance’ the scales.
“Of course! Absolutely!” He snapped at the guards hovering in the doorway. "Open the gates! What are you waiting for?”
As the cell doors swung open, he turned back to Merana with obvious hope. “Do you have time to talk? I’d like to ask you about some things I’ve been curious about…things concerning the northern territories and the western kingdoms across the sea. Rumors I’m hearing…”
“Absolutely,” Merana agreed, skipping out with fluid grace before flipping around to give him a charming wave. “Oh, and about my gear?”
“You took her gear, too? Idiots! Do you have any idea how valuable a Level 55’s gear is? It could purchase a kingdom! Where is it… Ah, it isn’t even organized. Wow… That’s a lot…”
“I know! I’m a bit of a hoarder.”
As she passed Damon’s cell, her voice entered his mind with crystalline clarity: “When you decide to leave the city, you’ll find it challenging to locate a caravan that will welcome you. Walk two miles east of the gates and find an inn called Starfire’s Keep. Ask for Joshua—he’ll take you where you need to go. I’ll see you soon.”
The mental contact faded as she walked away with the boss, leaving Damon standing in his now-open cell, fingering the copper coin as the guards watched with obvious confusion and suppressed frustration.
The question is…was this Ashcroft’s plan all along? He held the shiny coin up to the light, examining the crown and ‘I’ engraved into it. Did she lure Merana out, using me as bait… Games within games. Did she know about the boss’ connection to Merana? Her interest in me, and force her hand by putting me in a compromising position? Huh…
He nudged his head toward the door and made his way toward the exit, Copper plodding along beside him, making a snapping growl at the guard in passing. They retreat with an alarmed shout, leaving the cub with a smug prance.
Damon chuckled inside, giving them a two-fingered salute and smirk, leaving to see what his sister had been up to since he apparently had a bit of time before the contest.
The funny part is…that this coin was stolen from the boss, returned by me, and has now come full circle back to Ashcroft. I’ve just laundered her stolen money through the very person from whom she stole it. Haha! As good as this feels, I’m not sure if I’m free or not. I’ve entered a dangerous world, but I think I’m finding my feet.
Following the path he’d been guided down with Copper by his side, Damon wore a smile, nodding to Merana in passing. She waved back between gathering all her magical items, returning the smile that the boss mirrored; it didn’t even look fake.
“I hope to see you at the event tonight,” he said, grabbing the bag of coins off the counter and tossing it Damon’s way. “Maybe you can even participate.”
Damon chuckled and snatched it out of the air, tugging it open to drop the copper coin in and extract two steel pieces before tossing it back.
“That’s the plan. Consider this my bet on myself. How much is the current pot?”
The man caught it and lifted an eyebrow, testing its weight. He glanced at Merana, who was using a mirror in the corner to put on her earrings and other accessories.
“You’re betting the whole farm, huh? Copper and all?”
“A copper, twenty-eight steel, and some extra iron I’ve got,” he shrugged.
“Hmm.” The boss’ lips curled as he tested the weight. “With your contribution, the pot goes up to a little over…a full Imperium silver, a dozen indentured servant contracts, and a few various assets. With your donation, I’m sure there will be some high spenders join. You are aware there is a monster pit. No contract. You will be betting on yourself. We are not liable or responsible for any resurrections or permanent deaths of pets.”
A silver? What does that even mean? Stupid money? Ashcroft, what are you getting me into, because if I win this… It’s not just going to be racism that burns me, I’ll have the whole underworld after my throat…
“I figured as much,” Damon muttered, glancing down at his anxious bear cub and steeling himself; he had to trust the plan. “And the rules?”
“Simple,” the man laughed, flashing his teeth. “Survive four rounds. There are level restrictions, set by what is lawfully allowed in the city, but that’s details. You can use one pet. Hell, I’d even let you join in the arena yourself, since you’re a dark elf. No hate. It would pump up those numbers, though. You basically count as a monster to this kingdom’s laws. It’s already the biggest pot thanks to a new donor. Too bad they won’t be there to see it.”
“Fair enough. I bet it would draw a crowd to see the former prince fight monsters. Copper and Me, count us in. See you tonight…”
“Tonight will be legendary!”
As he exited, he noticed Merana’s hidden smile.
Will you be there? he asked internally, figuring she was reading his thoughts with her bonded telepathic mouse.
“Unfortunately not, but I would be cautious, Damon… You are not favored in this matchup.”
That only made Damon’s grin widen. I was counting on it.
Heading toward the exit, he passed by what appeared to be serving staff moving boxes. The guards were all scowling at him, but it was a teenage girl who made him pause near the entrance—shark tail curled around her legs, sharp teeth, and dirt on her cheek.
Titania’s earlier vision flashed through his mind as she gave him a surprisingly perfect curtsy with her shabby, ripped dress, her tone utterly robbed of emotion, other than exasperated boredom: the Trash Saintess.
“Welcome to the Festival of Monsters, Master. What can I help you with?”
Damon didn’t have a clue how to respond, glancing behind him to make sure she wasn’t talking to someone else. Just then, a well-dressed woman came out of a nearby doorway and hissed upon catching sight of them.
“Dark elf… No, Trash Eater, I didn’t tell you to greet anyone! I told you to go into the changing area and clean yourself up. You look worse than garbage and smell like rotten fish!”
The teen showed a tight-lipped smile, filled with exhaustion as she turned toward the woman and repeated her earlier gesture. “My apologies, Mistress, I got lost.”
“More like sleeping in the closet, you lazy shark! Aida told me where you were hiding.”
The teen glanced away with a short, ‘tch’ noise, blare-like tail weaving dangerously close to him before regaining control of it. Her composure returned in an instant. “Of course, Mistress.”
“No,” Damon interjected, clearing his voice and snaring not only the two’s attention, but also a nearby guard who came around the corner. “I was the one who was asking directions and held her up.”
“Really?” the woman snarled, twisted nose and hateful eyes darting his way. “I hate liars and princes—you happen to be both. Also, what kind of response was that, Cassandra… And why are you lingering, Nightcrawler? You darken my halls.”
“Ouch. Former Prince, technically, ma’am,” he drolled with a small smirk.
“Did I ask for useless noise? Begone!”
Damon silently watched her scold the girl, likely around the same age as his sister, before shooing her away.
“Mistress… My name is Cassy.”
“That isn’t what is on the contract, fishbreath. March! I cannot believe I must waste a perfectly good beastkin outfit on you. You are nothing but a cursed money pit. I cannot see why you were worth such a price.”
Cassy’s tail weaved left as she twisted to give him one, last bored stare, blood-red eyes fixating on him. Then, they went out of sight. It was then that he noticed a small charm attached to her sharp fin.
Trash Eater. Fishbreath. Lazy shark… What a bitch. Yeah, maybe I should learn a bit more about her.
The guard squared his shoulders, but quickly backed away as Copper growled up at him. “You…needed directions?”
“…Yeah,” he muttered, vision remaining on where the teenage girl had vanished. “What time does the event start?”
“Seven.”
“Good to know… Let’s go.”
Wait, what is Aria going to say about me wanting to save a teenage shark girl… With her mind? Ugh… Why is she such a little deviant?
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[ Next POV: Cassy]
[ Theme: Now that we’ve met the boss from Damon’s PoV, what happened to our shark girl after the sun elf left boy? ]
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