The Exalt [Cultivation Fantasy]

The Defiants. Demon crossed his arms. He had never heard of this organization, but Avila's declaration of overthrowing the Primal Council puzzled even him. The Primal Council ruled the whole of Vallen, the unshattered half of Talos, and had existed since the savage eras, which he placed at a time after the war between the Ancient and the Caerulumen. To defeat a power that had existed for tens if not hundreds of thousands of years seemed quite impossible. Either they had incredible backing or were delusional fools.

"My turn." Avila leaned in, eyes narrow, studying him through the mask. "Who are you?" Instead of jumping straight to Avril, she asked about him, a sudden turn from Demon's initial expectations. She lit another candle between them and leaned closer as if about to share a secret. The silvery glint of the variant Prinstyct still shone brightly from her golden pupils, a flicker of fear flashing across.

"I am Erden. And I know Avril." He replied, tapping the bottom of his sleeve where Erden started to tug and shake in defiance, clearly hating that his name had been used. He leaned in to match her distance, a bright flame flickering between them. "Auctions are everywhere. Why is this one noteworthy to the Defiants?"

"Who says we're only targeting this one?" Avila smirked. "Were you under the impression that we're a small renegade group with a hopeless goal?"

"Is that a rhetorical question or not? And this does not count as one of my questions." Demon said.

"Rhetorical. Were you eavesdropping on us in the shipyard?" Avila asked, her smirk receding into a flat stern line.

"Yes. I admit it was quite a task, but you should be more careful. Especially if you're intent on fighting the Primal Council." Demon said mockingly. "My turn. What's your full name and background? Avril never mentioned much about her past, though she might have been too young to remember clearly."

"Yes, you're right." Avila's face fell. "She must have been five or six when our village was burned down. To this day, my greatest regret was letting go of her hand. I dream every night of how her hand slipped out of my fingers. It's all my fault." Tears lined her cheeks, dripping off her chin. For a few seconds, neither spoke while Avila wandered off into her river of tears. She seemed to realize she was in front of someone and quickly wiped them away as if they never existed.

"Answer my question." Demon grew impatient.

Avila composed herself back to a calm state, notable tearstains on her cheeks. "You asked two. First, my name is Avila Venelair. Two, Avril and I come from a simple background on our mother's side. Our father was once an Exalt from a notable family in the region. He was crippled and discarded away, but I owe my powers to him. Perhaps our village wouldn't have burned if he had his Exalt powers."

"Wasting time on ifs and maybes will be giving yourself to death. Survive in the reality of what is. That is the only way." Demon felt Avila had too large of an obsession with the past.

Avila let out a small snort. "Don't lecture me, coward, who hides behind a mask. How is Avril doing? And what is her Exolsia grade?"

"I can answer the first question, but the second can narrow your search, which may place her in the Defiants' grasp. I'll refrain from answering that one for her safety. You can ask a follow-up question after." He was sure his answer would spark such shock that she'd be spilling out question after question. "Avril is well. She's married."

The reaction came instantly. Avila slammed the table, knocking the candle on its side, her mouth gaping open to the widest he had ever seen. His ears rang from Avila's shrill cry as shadows gathered near the doors, the guards perking into action from her outburst. Quickly, she waved them off and rebalanced the candle before the weak wood could catch fire, the stench of a burnt table filling the room. She clamped her mouth shut and steadied her heaving chest, attempting to speak again, but in stammered speech, "M-m-ma-married? My adorable baby sister…is…married?!"

Her voice raised at the last word as if she still didn't believe it. Surely, she would calm down soon, but she had lost all pretenses of a regretful rebel and became a bewildered older sister. After what felt like an hour, judging by the degree to which the candle had melted, Avila regained her composure, coughing to clear the air.

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"Yes."

"Yes?"

"The answer to your second question. Yes, she is indeed married." Demon said, hoping to irritate her more to induce more outbursts. The more flustered a person was, the more likely their mouth would loosen and speak out.

"That's not fair!" Avila rose from her seat, losing all of her bearings. How she became flustered perfectly matched Avril, her lips lifting into a small pout and the slight blush on the cheeks resulting in the same aggrieved face that he knew well from Oscar's endless teasing of Avril. For a brief moment, he hoped Oscar would stir, but a glance at the lifeless soul put down his expectations. He barely heard Avila's next question, "Who is her husband?"

"That can't be answered. Even a name will be problematic for both him and her." Demon readjusted his mask, never blinking at the candlelight, and then turned to Avila, who went silent. "I can assure you they're happily married." He wasn't lying. Oscar and Avril were indeed happily married despite the current separation and Oscar's horrible condition. And Avril was living in Convecia City, from what Helen told him.

"Really?" Avila relaxed and slumped in her seat, the candlelight flickering across her relieved grin and misty gaze. She slapped her face with her rough hands, the nails bitten down to the base. In a short bow of her head, she "Thank you for bringing me news of my sister. To know she is happy and well is enough for me."

"The way you switch emotions so quickly is quite like her. However, let me get into the real reason I came here. My last question. Can I join your little heist?" Reaching out, Demon put out the irritating candle that was nearly melted into a pool of clear wax. Faint moonlight fluttered through the slight gaps underneath the curtains, stretching partly to their faces. Avila gave him a piercing gaze, one that many might feel naked under but a futile effort before him. Her troubled emotions were blatant as she bit her lips.

"I've never met anyone like you. I'll relay your words to my superiors, but what can you offer?" Avila's golden eyes grew colder as her Ein slowly increased, ready to strike immediately.

"Rather than relay it, why don't I speak to them directly? Isn't that right? Aren't they here now?" From the beginning, he had grown suspicious of her actions. He knew the exchange of questions was a slow process, and even the long hour of her fumbling with the truth of her sister's marriage was partly an act, all to drag out the time for reinforcements to arrive. Glancing around, Demon sensed the body heat of three individuals apart from the guards lurking outside. "The three of you should join us."

"Astounding. A strange one." The elder entered, flanked by two others, wariness spilling from their eyes as they readied themselves to fight. They were all cloaked and wearing masks, probably to match him. After all, if one was unwilling to reveal themselves, why should the other? However, the elder wore plain robes and appeared to be very advanced in age. Before he could speak, Avila leaped on the table, spilling melted wax everywhere, and nocked an arrow fully to her eye, the moonlight gleaming off the sharp arrowhead that stopped an inch before his throat, ready to pierce him.

The other two positioned themselves next to him. One stuck a dagger near his heart, and one floated above, pointing a spear to pierce in the head. The elder strode slowly inside and pulled up a chair for him to rest, his faint wheezing expelling white puffs of cold air. Unafraid, Demon crossed his arms and leaned his head back, completely relaxed. At last, the one he wanted to speak to had arrived.

"Greetings, elder. I wonder if you will allow me to join you." Demon asked.

"The question. What is your offer?" The elder opened his eyes, a deep blue gentle gaze that gave him a glance over, judging him from head to toe. "Know our plan already. Must have assurance."

"And that is why I'm here. Your plan is not ironclad. I can be one to ensure your heist is successful." Demon raised his hands.

"How can we believe you?" One of the cloaked figures spoke in a rough voice as if gargling on stone. It was the man, Tiron. "Elder, we should kill him here and put this matter to an end."

"He came. Prepared to die or escape." The elder rubbed his wrinkled head, stretching the skin out with his gnarly fingers. He watched Demon silently for a few minutes, mumbling to himself or perhaps…speaking to another. A gentle grin cracked his dry lips as he clapped and said, "We accept."

"Elder?" Avila, Tiron, and the other exclaimed but went quiet from the elder's raised palm.

"Then, I'll see you in the auction. Don't worry about my invitation. I already have one." Demon bowed. Standing as the weapons backed off, he nodded to Avila and departed, exiting the path formed by flanking guards. The night was in full swing, a few hours before dawn. Joining up with Erden outside, he roamed the empty streets, returning to the rundown inn to pretend to rest. No doubt, they had put spies around to follow him.

'Now I need to wait for Restel to arrive. That old man wants to use me. But he's not on par with the pieces I have.' Demon knew the elder wouldn't have agreed so easily without a backup plan to handle him. Avila may have some thoughts against it, but she's also a pawn, and he couldn't rely on her to back him up. Perhaps he would 'die' during the auction. Either way, he had his trump cards in Duality and Restel, and they didn't know. That was enough.

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