ALL NOVEL 81: Mutual Interest
Tom’s words echoed with an almost zealous edge to them, its impetus not lost on Aleph, who seemed to visibly recoil from his statement, the possibility of something as absurd as working together never even having occurred to her while Zirel, who seemed almost as flabbergasted as the last successor of House Longstradia, gazed upon him with genuine surprise.
“Are you insane?” It was Aleph who snapped back into the moment first, the sheer anger bubbling up in her gut enough to eclipse any surprise or shock she might have felt at being blindsided with such a preposterous suggestion.
Tom held himself back from wincing as he took in his friend’s scrunched up visage. The anger she felt was all but evident in her expression, but that hadn’t been the source of his discomfort. There was a certain hollowness to her gaze, a distinct resignation that Tom had seen before.
In his past life, it was those very eyes that had locked eyes with him when he stared at the mirror. The eyes of someone who had resigned himself to the whims of fate, resigned himself to things simply going wrong regardless of what he did. In Aleph’s case, perhaps that resignation was directed to betrayal. Tom didn’t need Maya to guess at the impact the other Noble Family’s betrayal would have had on her psyche. And he was sure that it wasn’t the only time she would have tasted betrayal.
A young, pampered Noble left alone in the world with no one to call her own. How many times would she have been tricked by unscrupulous individuals? How many times had she tried to recruit a party of her own, only to be deserted… or worse? Tom didn’t know the answer to those questions, but he was well aware of the fact that while a larger fist might have kept her alive, it would have provided no solution to her problems.
And now, it was Tom’s actions that had let Aleph taste that same helplessness, a flavor worse than bitter ash.
Nevertheless, Tom stood resolute as he took in Zirel’s reaction to his words. There was surprise there, certainly. A smattering of doubt. But no instinctive disgust at the thought of allying with a Longstradia. That meant that there was a chance.
A slim one, perhaps.
But there was a chance.
“You want to… challenge the final sector? Don’t tell me…..,” Zirel’s gaze shifted from Tom to Aleph, before setting back onto Tom’s visage. “You’re serious,” he muttered to himself, expression incredulous even as his body language suggested that he was primed for combat.
“You’re challenging the Zelez Dungeon because you want to grow stronger, are you not?” Tom posed the rhetorical question with the beginnings of an audacious smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Well, we’re simply intending to take the shortest path to that strength. A path that, should we succeed, shall reward us with the kind of loot that I would shudder to list out loud.”
“Two people,” Zirel hissed. “You’ve lost your damn minds,” The prince responded in a rare breach of noble etiquette.
Tom had gotten exactly the kind of reaction he had been wanting to elicit out of Zirel. It would serve as a reminder for Aleph; the sheer absurdity of their lofty and frankly, incredibly risky goal voiced by a third-party that was qualified enough to make sid judgment.
Then, he slowly turned his gaze to Aleph.
Taking a deep breath, he used the moment to gather his thoughts before voicing them out loud, “ Aleph, do you still remember the first time we crossed paths?”
There was a pause, a brief flicker of hesitation as Aleph considered if she deemed him worthy of a response.
“I do,” she answered, a hint of anger leaking into her voice.
“Then you would remember how much you had to struggle, just to recruit anywhere near a full party of dungeoneers. Enough that you were willing to take on someone with a background as dubious as mine, a dungeoneer whose true name you still, to date, don’t know,” Tom pointedly reminded, choosing not to mince his words. Even if it made him feel terribly guilty.
“There are others?” Zirel cut in warily, his gaze shifting to the periphery of the Dungeon Cruicible.
“No,” Tom answered. “Aleph judged that me and her would be enough.”
To his credit, Zirel had once again reigned his emotions in, his visage a stony mask that would let no other reaction slip by him.
“You are the deciding factor in that calculation, I assume,” His eyes narrowed on Tom as he voiced his observations.
“Perhaps. But that isn’t important right now. See, the way I see it,” Tom paused for emphasis, letting his words hang in the air long enough for the other two to focus their attention on him. “Aleph, the longer you stay in Renovia, the more dangerous it is for you. I understand, believe me. I understand that not choosing to fight him to the death is very different from allying with him. But,” He looked Zirel directly in the eyes as he framed his next words. “You are as much a fugitive as she is.”
The Prince’s left eye twitched in what could only be annoyance.
“You need power,” Tom continued, “While your fate might not end up as gruesome as Aleph’s, if she were to get caught— I sincerely doubt that you would be willing to face the Nottrakon Family’s reprisal. Whether they imprison you until one of your brothers ascend to the throne or execute you on the spot, you don’t want to be hanging around here when they finally see through your act. And if you were confident in reaching the tower on your own, you would have long since left.”
Aleph blinked at those words, clearly surprised by just how accurately Tom had managed to grasp the situation.
“So what is your alternative? Throw myself against an insurmountable challenge and die a warrior’s death?” Zirel replied in distinct annoyance, clearly not used to his authority being challenged—- even if he may think otherwise.
“Ally with us,” Tom replied plainly. “I am a fugitive too, for different reasons. And not all alliances need to be founded on trust. Mutual interests are enough to keep us from killing each other. And when we’re ready—- when all three of us agree that we are ready— we crush the final sector.”
The crinkling sound of shattering crystal echoed in the air as Aleph violently crushed a shard in her free hand.
“Damn it,” She protested angrily. “Damn it all,” She repeated herself, her fist balled up in rage. “I hate to admit it…..,” She trailed off, her gaze reluctantly meeting Zirel’s.
“...But he’s right. You’ve seen our faces, so if you get caught— we’re compromised as well. If we’re not going to fight to the death then taking in the situation objectively,” Aleph paused to take a long, calming breath. “It would make sense for you to join us.”
Silence fell again. This time, it stretched on for minutes. Tom and Aleph had said their piece and now, the decision was Zirel’s to make.
“You two do realize that if I agreed to this, it would make me the biggest enemy of the Nottrakon Family since its inception, right? Killing Elite Guards is a grave offense, but at the end of the day, they’re just guards. This, though? I’m not going to be the only one hunted to the ends of the surface realm for this.”
“Uhh….,” Tom struggled not to stutter, not having considered that particular aspect in great detail.
“Your plan better be a good one. I’m in.”