BOOK 9: CHAPTER 40: POLITICS AND POSTURING

The two men stationed at the building’s main entrance wore green fatigues, though they were both armed with giant, studded cudgels that hung from their belts. One man carried a wand in a holster at his hip, while the other had a shield slung across his back. Both were also equipped with glorious mustaches.

Elijah strode forward, finding it difficult not to stare.

“State your business,” the right-most man said in a bored tone.

“What’s your secret?” Elijah asked.

“What?”

“The mouthbrow,” Elijah said, stroking his own, much less impressive mustache. It was blonde, so it didn’t quite stand out the way he liked. “You know, the crumb catcher. You’ve reached Sam Elliot levels there.” He glanced at the other guard. “Yours is magnificent as well. I’m just wondering – is it a skill? Mustache-growing? Or something in the water? Just genetics?”

“Are you insane?” the guard asked. “You –”

“Julio…”

“What? This guy is –”

“Don’t.”

“Huh?”

“Code black.”

The first guard went pale – which was quite a feat, considering his dark complexion – and gave a sharp intake of breath. He composed himself quickly, straightening his posture and shifting slightly to something that verged on a fighting stance. He didn’t quite reach that level, but it was clear that he was more than prepared if things got physical.

“What’s your name and level?” he asked.

“Uh…name’s Elijah Hart. As far as my level, you’re going to have to buy me a drink before we get that chummy. Let’s just say I’m higher than you and leave it at that. Is the jefe grande around? Or would it be jefe gigante? Maybe supremo?” he suggested. When neither answered, he went on, “Come on guys. My Spanish is pretty rusty and it was never really conversational. Help me out here.”

“Please don’t call him that,” said the one to the right. “He…uh…he wouldn’t like it.”

“What? Why? I could have just said big chief. But that didn’t sound right.”

“Just trust me,” the helpful guard stated. Meanwhile, the other just stared at Elijah like he’d gone crazy.

“So, can I just stroll right in? Do I need an appointment? If so, I’ll just be on my way. I only stopped by because the guy at the Spires told me I should,” Elijah said.

“Oh. Right. I’ll go let him know you’re here, Mr. Hart,” the right-most guard stated. He was hurrying inside a second later.

“Guess it’s just you and me, Sam. Now, about that mustache…”

“My name isn’t Sam.”

Elijah snapped his fingers. “Right. Julio. Good, strong name. That’s what he called you, right?”

“I…yes. That’s my name.”

“Awesome, buddy,” Elijah said, grabbing him by the shoulder. He tried to flinch away, but he was far too slow. Elijah felt a tiny surge of ethera, but he ignored it. The man was way too low-level to threaten him. He gave Julio’s shoulder a little squeeze. “Now, the mustache? Is it genetics? Or is there some mustache-grower class I don’t know about? I feel like if that did exist, the dwarves would have said something, though. They do like their beards.”

“It’s a paste made by an Alchemist in town,” Julio revealed in a small voice. “But don’t tell anybody, okay? He’s kind of quirky.”

“Lips are sealed, man. So, this place looks pretty well run,” Elijah said conversationally. “How’d you all manage that?”

“All credit goes to the Comisario. He stepped in a few months after the world changed, and he’s been in charge ever since.”

“Oh, so he’s not just a lawman. More like a mayor?”

“Something like that. He’s a great man and a mighty fighter.”

“Awesome. I’m sure we’ll get along then. Like I said, I’m just passing through, though. Might need a bit of information, but I don’t expect you all to give me that,” Elijah said. “Just point me in the right direction, and I’m happy enough.”

After that, he made light conversation with the guard. Julio never quite loosened up, but his ethera did settle. Thankfully, Elijah didn’t have to wait long before the other guard came trotting back and offered to lead him inside.

Elijah didn’t miss the relief in Julio’s voice when he heard that he wouldn’t be required to prolong his meeting.

In any case, Elijah soon found himself striding into the concrete monstrosity of a building. The interior was not what Elijah had expected, and it looked far more modern than the exterior might have suggested. The atrium was wide open, with a floor of patterned tiles and a row of columns on either side. Just before the door was a desk made of marble, behind which sat a beautiful woman dressed in business attire. She wore a broad and inviting smile as she welcomed him into the Palacio de Justicia.

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The guard escorted Elijah past her and into the building proper. There were dozens of men and women going about their business, with a great number of guards wearing green fatigues. They all watched Elijah with no small degree of anticipation, almost as if they expected him to go on a killing spree.

Perhaps word of his exploits had reached as far as Colombia.

Or maybe they just knew what kind of danger a man with his level represented. That was likely what the code black had meant.

Elijah didn’t dwell on it. He felt a few people with strong ethereal signatures, but he didn’t feel threatened by anyone in the building. So, he remained entirely unbothered as he followed the guard through the building, his bare feet slapping against the cold tile floor.

“I should’ve brought my staff,” he muttered to himself.

He missed the reassuring heft as well as the way it clicked against the ground with every step. But he didn’t think walking around armed was a great look. Besides, he could summon his scythe from within the Arcane Loop in only an instant.

That was comforting.

Elijah did mark the exits, though. If he needed to escape, knowledge of the layout would be invaluable.

Soon enough, they reached a wide, ornate staircase that led to the next level. When they arrived at the top, Elijah was unsurprised to find even more guards present. And these men were quite a bit stronger than the ones below. A few of them might’ve even been scraping level one-hundred.

Glancing back the way they’d come, Elijah was impressed by the artistry on display. However, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if someone like Gabriella was given leave to decorate it. There were doubtless many other benefits that could be gained from an Artist’s efforts. She just needed an opportunity to practice her craft.

Then and there, Elijah decided to invite her to Ironshore. Maybe even to the grove. There, he could give her the support she needed to get the most out of the class. And perhaps she could even put some of the children on that path.

“Please come with me, Mr. Hart. The Comisario is waiting.”

“Oh, right. Lead on.”

With that, they circled the building, eventually heading into a hallway that led deeper. The décor remained impressive, reminding Elijah of the pictures he’d seen of the White House, though instead of portraits of past U.S. presidents, important Colombian figures were on display in the art on the walls.

Finally, they reached a pair of stout, wooden double doors guarded by a trio of the highest-level men Elijah had yet seen. Two wore the normal fatigues, but the third was obviously their boss. And he was definitely over level one hundred, though he still seemed a ways from ascension.

Pointedly, he wielded one of the rifles from Seattle, which left a bit of a bad taste in Elijah’s mouth. But it also told him he didn’t have much to worry about. He’d tanked hundreds of shots from rifles just like it when he’d last been to Seattle, and they’d done nothing but annoy him.

“Captain,” the escorting guard said before giving the man a salute.

“Cap’n,” Elijah echoed, eliciting only a twitch of annoyance. The lack of a meaningful reaction irritated Elijah for some reason.

“My name is Captain Andres Rivas,” the man said. He was taller than Elijah, but not by much. He was also clean shaven, with a strong jaw and a buzz cut.

“Elijah Hart,” was the response. He’d decided to play it straight with the man rather than run off at the mouth, as was his acknowledged habit.

“Come with me. The Comisario is waiting.”

With that, Elijah followed the man through the double doors and into a well-furnished office. Everywhere he looked was polished wood, and the room was dominated by a stout desk. Behind that desk sat a small man.

If he was more than five feet tall, Elijah would have been quite surprised. However, he was clearly a higher level than even Rivas, though he wasn’t close to ascension. Beyond that, Elijah got no real sense of the man’s power.

He didn’t fail to notice the mirror shades or the banana republic dictator get-up. Elijah was immediately wary.

“Mr. Hart,” the Comisario said, standing. He seemed even slighter than Elijah’s first impression suggested. “Welcome to Bogotá. I trust that you aren’t here to cause trouble.”

“If I was, you wouldn’t have seen me coming,” Elijah said. Then, he added, “Comisario.”

The Comisario glanced at Rivas, adding, “You can leave us, Andres.”

The captain saluted, then left the room, closing the doors behind him.

The short man let out a sigh. “You can just call me Carlos,” he said, leaning forward with his hands on the desk. “Now, tell me why you’re here. According to my friends in Seattle, you’re dangerous.”

“That’s…true.”

“And?”

“And nothing. I’m just here to help a friend. He sent me a message, presumably from this city’s Branch, considering this is where he said to come. I need to know if he’s here, and if he is, where I can find him.”

“A lot of demands.”

“Requests,” Elijah corrected. “I don’t expect you to help me, though I won’t refuse it if offered. The only reason I’m here is because the Conclave mage at the spires told me to check in. I didn’t want to be rude, so here I am. But if you don’t want to help me find Oscar, that’s fine. I can hunt him down myself.”

“That might be a problem.”

“How so?” asked Elijah.

“First, if this Oscar is who I think he is, you won’t find him here. Second, if you go wandering this city, you’re likely to be attacked.”

“I can take care of myself. And who do you think I’m talking about?”

“I’m certain you can handle your own safety. My issue is that you will probably destroy part of my city in doing so. Many of the people gathering to enter the Primal Realm come from Seattle. As they are, they don’t stand a chance of defeating it. Instead, they intend to gather experience by hunting giants,” the Comisario explained. “But for now, they’re just hanging out, spending money, and causing problems. If they find out you’re here…”

“They’ll attack.”

“Correct.”

“And the other part? You know something about Oscar?”

“Oscar Ramirez. I don’t know his class, but it’s something to do with that pack of dogs that follow him around. Until I met you, I thought he was the strongest man in the world,” Carlos stated. “Now, I think he’s second.”

Elijah nodded. Oscar had always been powerful, and he’d placed well in the Trial of Primacy. So, it stood to reason that he’d continued to gain strength. “What else? Was he here recently?”

“He was. He came in like a tornado and immediately accessed the Branch. The second he did what he needed to do, he left. The only reason I know about it is because there was a scuffle with one of the raiders,” the Comisario explained. “He sent three men to the Healers. They and their allies demanded I do something about it.”

“Did you?”

Carlos removed his glasses, revealing eyes completely devoid of irises or pupiles. They were milky white and entirely unseeing. “I might be blind, but I’m not an idiot, Mr. Hart.”

“Which way did he go?”

“South, toward the Primal Realm. He’s been hunting in that area for some time. Some of our people see him every now and then.”

“Do you have a map?” Elijah asked.

“Just ask Captain Rivas. He’ll give you what directions we can. But Mr. Hart?”

“Yeah?”

“You should know that many people consider Ramirez quite dangerous. Some people say he’s gone feral. No better than a monster.”

“If that’s so, I’ll just bring him back.”

“Why?”

“He’s my friend,” Elijah stated. “And I don’t have a lot of those, believe it or not. If I can help him, I will. If not…well, I’ll do what needs to be done.”

“Unless you need anything else…”

Elijah shook his head.

“Then good luck, Mr. Hart. I’m sorry you didn’t get to enjoy our city.”

“Me too.”

And with that, Elijah headed out, eager to find Oscar and figure out what had caused the man to seek his help.