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Master Madame Vera
Verita Raizel

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It wasn’t often that his gigs went sideways, but given how often his services were needed, it was bound to happen sometimes.  Some in worse ways than others.

This, unfortunately, was one of those ‘worse’ ways.  And Kris was ill-equipped to handle this level of injury.  Rudimentary field first aid was the extent of his skills, and a bullet wound this bad with blood loss this severe was well outside his scope, and that wasn’t taking into account the delicate nature of elven biology. 

Which meant that he needed help.  Not something he needed often, but at least he didn’t have so much pride as to deny he needed it when he did.

The location they’d found themselves in made finding help a bit tricky, however.  In the middle of Espana, with a wounded, in-and-out-of-consciousness elf, and in a time crunch, there weren’t many options for help.  He had to keep them to the Underground, otherwise they’d be found and arrested.

Kris had heard rumors of a trained doctor in this region that was willing to help those utilizing the Underground, though he’d never met her personally.  Out of all the options available to him and the wounded woman in his care, that seemed like the best bet, despite the risk of the unknown.

So that was where he headed, hoping that he remembered the directions to her location correctly.  A false turn now could spell death.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A day later, rain pouring down over him and his bundled up charge in a makeshift cart, he knocked on the door to the building before them.  The Underground symbols scratched into the brick to the right of the doorframe told him that this is where he needed to be, and he hoped that the doctor was actually in.

When the door opened, pale gray eyes met the steely gaze of a young drowish woman.  He was exhausted, and hoped that she’d be willing to help.  Evanlyn didn’t have much time left, given how shallow her breaths had become.

Flashing the hand sign of a Friend of the Underground, he said, “I’ve got someone who’s hurt, and she needs a doctor.  Can you help?”  Rain drummed on the roof and pattered off the waterproof material of his hood, almost as loud as his raspy voice.

She glanced over the soggy brown lump in his cart and curtly nodded, leading them into a dimly gas-lit hallway.

“Madame! Urgent package! Postman says he needs your signature!”

“I can hear you Neti, no need to shout. Bring them to the delivery room.”

Lifting Evanlyn into his arms and following her, Kristoff took the opportunity to get the lay of the place. The open waiting room and shared treatment space was clearly a repurposed pub. The rooms they passed were open with 2, 4 or 6 beds, some made more spacious by amateurishly knocked down walls. Each looked well-used, clean and most notably, empty. Not a good sign for a supposedly reputable doctor. 

The woman, Neti, stared him down when he hesitated before the ‘delivery room’. It looked strange, different from a usual hospital room, even by what he’d seen of this place’s standards. The bed had metal bars. A knotted rope hung over its centre.

“This is the delivery room. Put the patient down or leave.”

Kris shifted the woman in his arms, shooting Neti a glare.  “I’m not leaving her until she’s healed.  She-”

“That’s enough! Leave your bickering for after the urgent matter!”

Neti turned to the tall woman in a huff. The doctor, Madame Verita, gestured to the bed.

“Put the girl down. We’ll talk as I work. Neti, get the man a blanket before he joins her.”

He did as he was told, placing Evanlyn onto the bed carefully after watching Neti leave.  “What’s her deal?” he asked under his breath, more to himself than to the doctor, but she could still hear him.

Verita hummed, bustling around Evanlyn with medicine jars, red vials and surgical tools hovering around her. The elves’ very skin and organs shifted to her will. Kristoff turned from the frankly disturbing sight to the doctor who still hadn’t claimed her price.

“Sorry about that, there’s a new Family in charge of this town and we’ve only got 'til sunrise to book it. This delivery room was the last to close, good thing too or we wouldn’t have the blood replenishments on hand. Unfortunately for you, that means we aren’t accepting cash. But there is your services, Mr. Postman.”

While that wasn’t a name he’d been called before, it worked as well as any other, especially in this instance.  “Which means that you need something else from me as payment, instead,” he replied.  “I don’t have much to offer.”

“We don’t need much. Neti’s making her own way to another clinic, I’ll have her bring your elf if you’re done with her. All you need to do is get me across the ocean to Vierre. My friend will take things from there. The undersea tunnel checkpoints are beyond me so how we get there is on you.”

There was a moment of pause, then he finally responded, “I can take you where you want to go, so long as you can promise Evanlyn’s safety.”  It was, after all, what a Guide did.

“That’s that then. I’m done with your package Mr Postman, she’ll last until the next clinic and recover well. Get her ready to leave with us or Neti and we’ll be on our way.”

Looking down at Evanlyn, he could tell immediately that she did look much better.  And he’d kept his end of things.  She’d gotten away, and she’d be safe with these people now.

“Thank you.  I’ll just grab her things from the cart, and then I’m yours,” Kris said with a nod.  Without waiting for a response, he headed back down the hallway and outside, grabbing the bags from the makeshift contraption that had allowed him to carry the elf and their belongings all this way.

Dropping one bag beside the bed, he put the other, more worn one over his shoulder.

“Ready when you are.  Name’s Kristoff.  I’ll take you across the border, but you’ve got to do what I say when I say it, otherwise we might find ourselves in a dangerous situation.  I’ll be honest, it’s a dangerous path, but I’ve done it before and likely do it again, and so long as you follow my lead, you’ll get to where you’re going.”

Verita chuckled drily, “Don’t bother yourself over me, Kristoff. I’m a doctor, I know what it means to follow a specialist. I’m no fainting daisy either.” She looked up at him as she fixed a clean pair of leather gloves and her own bags. “This flower was raised upon blood-soaked soil and corpses piled to the skies. I can hold my own but I’ll follow you properly.”

“Alright, then.  Let’s get moving.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It didn’t take more than a couple hours to get well within the tunnels he’d used dozens of times before.  In fact, these connected to the others he’d been using to travel with Evanlyn, at least in part.  The fact that they’d been found down there meant that some Patrols were starting to get wise to the Underground’s movements.  Which was decidedly not good, but he could make a report about it when he was next able.

“I’ve heard a thing or two about you, Doc,” Kris said, breaking the silence that had fallen between them since they’d started out.  Other than their footsteps, only the clatter of small stones underfoot and the occasional drip of water could be heard.  The strong flashlight in his hands illuminated the dark tunnel ahead of them.  “You a member of the Underground, or you just work with them?”

“We’re not unrelated, but I don’t work with them, no. I work independently and stay afloat with favours and reputation. I’d play nice with the Head Family, keep my neutrality and I’d have a living. My work depends on niceties and relationships, thus the change in leadership landing us in this situation.” Verita looked around, eyes catching on the dripping stalactites and distant glow. “Not that I mind, I’ve been meaning to visit these tunnels. I heard the walls are bioluminescent, like a map of stars, or veins. It’s nostalgic, my home had cave systems like these act as Sanctuaries during the desert heats. That and this nonsense’s given me an excuse to resettle and build a life closer to allies. What of you? I’ve heard of your Guide duties.”

Kristoff gave her a small nod. “Not a member, myself.  Works out best for everyone that way.  I’m happy just doing the Guide thing when it’s needed.”  He shrugged, finally pushing his hood back from his face, revealing long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail.  “Like now, for instance.  I’m glad you were still around when I came by, otherwise-”

He cut himself off, senses screaming at him to stop.  Holding out a hand, he gestured for Verita to stop, too, then put his finger to his lips.  He thought he’d heard something up ahead, but now he wasn’t hearing anything.

A gunshot rang out as he took an investigative step forward, and he jumped back.

“Shit!  They’re here!” he hissed as he ran back towards her and tugged at her arm to get her to follow him.  “Espana’s Patrols!  We’ve gotta go!”

Throwing an arm out behind him, he summoned several Shades - tall, amorphous, shadowy beings with glowing red eyes - and ordered them to attack.  As he led Verita down a different tunnel, he could hear the screams of the soldiers behind them, as well as more gunshots.

The Shades would at least give them a bit of time, if only a few moments.

A few moments could mean the difference between life and death, so he’d take it gladly.

Thankfully, his charge seemed to agree with him. The Madame kept pace behind him, calm, grim faced and quiet as a shade. She stuck to the shadows, tracing his every turn before he even had a chance to indicate them. He recalled her earlier claims of competence. Clients often talked heights of themselves to their own detriment. It was a comfort she wasn’t amongst them.

Scattered gunshots and wet, squelching gore echoed closer.

Kristoff made a sharp turn into a cavern. Thready curtains of algae-like plants hung from the roof, blanketing the walls and ground. Shadowy crevices hinted at exits, yet disappointed with cold walls.

Bright. Slippery. Closed off.

A recipe for disaster if not for his ability.

“If you’ve got something to help us lose them, now‘s the time to use it,” Kris said, hurriedly looking down the forked tunnels for the signs that would guide them where to go.  “My Shades will hold them for a bit, but not for long.  Bullets do work on them.  But once we get enough distance, I can transport us further down using the shadows, far enough to hopefully lose them in the dark.”

He paused a moment, as the Madame shifted into the entrance. Far from the stone-faced woman of earlier, her expression stretched into bloodthirsty delight. “A convenient ability, I’m almost jealous. As it is”, she firmed her stance, long daggers flicking out from her gloves, “It seems I’ll enjoy entertaining our guests”.

High pitched wails heralded their pursuers arrival. And their end. Verita leaped, knives flashing, teeth bared like a wild thing. Verita spun low, rerouting bullets around her like a star in orbit, flinging them into muscle and sinew. Her knives flung past them, startling them into a scatter for count.

One. Inching to the entrance. Two. Knees buckled to the ground, resigned to his fate. Three. Bloody and crazed, stepping back, gun high.

A small yank to the heart. A wet gasp. A thud to the ground.

One.

Her knife pulled back, landing true into a back bowed over.

Two.

A tug to a belt. Panicked wailing swallowed into gaping eldritch maws.

Three.

Verita caught her knives, cleaning and hiding them in her gloves. She nodded to the dissipating shades, looking over her work in cruel satisfaction. Blood raged hot through her veins. She took a breath to ground herself.

One ~

Two ~

Three ~

Bloodthirsty euphoria simmered back into the quiet of a still lake.

Verita turned on her heels into the cavern where Kristoff had continued his work undisturbed by the macabre backdrop. Unperturbed by her red-splattered skirts, he pointed to a new, darkly shadowed tunnel. “Time to get out of here,” he said, holding out his hand.  It would take no time at all to Shadow-walk to the border from here, now that they’d ‘lost’ their pursuers.

She took his hand. He closed his eyes. And focused.  

It only took a second before his secondary ability activated, melding them with the shadows of the dark tunnel.  To Verita, the world seemed a grayscale blur as they ‘walked’, each step taking them as far as the eye could see and as far as the shadows could take them.  To Kris’ trained eye, everything was crystal clear, and he took in the information as quickly as it came, allowing their quick movement that would appear like teleportation to anyone other than himself. Grey rapidly faded to green, sending Verita to a stumbling halt. Kristoff steadied her as she took in the Silver Forests of Vierre.

They’d made it.

Once upon a time...

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