Chapter 1703 (1/2)

Don Beigon features were harsh and his hair was dark. Looking at the intensity of his gaze and the lines around his eyes, Randidly realized that the man was ancient; the only reason he couldn’t tell immediately was that his hair was completely black, without even the slightest hint of grey.

Yet there was an implacable weight to him that couldn’t be faked. His Nether Core responded to the significance he had accumulated simply by aging, even if he had no dedicated receptacle to contain that power.

The other fact about the Don that became immediately obvious was that he had no legs. His torso cleanly transitioned into the wicker and mahogany wheelchair beneath him. But the folds of the man's maroon jacket prevented Randidly from seeing the particulars of that shift. Yet the fact that his upper body appeared almost completely humanoid seemed to suggest that it wasn’t a natural transition

Next to them in the courtyard, the spring gurgled pleasantly. Birds chirped in the warm illumination that shined down on the house of Beigon. Randidly slowly opened his mouth, wondering how much and what he should say to explain his presence.

But the Don lifted a massive, tanned hand to stop him. “Let us dispense with the artifice. I can guess the goal of your meeting with my daughter, even if I do not know the details nor why you, the rumored Head Drill Sergeant underneath Commandant Wick, were her best selection. I am not a man who wastes time. Do not bother lying to me.”

And for the first time since Randidly had walked into the room, Randidly stiffened. Don Beigon briefly pulled back the curtain and revealed a thick and furious flow of Aether that was pumping through his body. His hand stretched outward, elongated by the vast energy he contained. The image that Randidly witnessed there, of molten metal and bleeding skies, was not at the overwhelming ‘truth’ of the Speculum he had witnessed in the Fifth Cohort. But it felt a finger or two deeper than Velio Dunn and Commandant Wick.

This was Don Beigon, the man who shared the administration authority of Alymian with Solomon Rex. Here was the ironhanded father that was selling off his daughter to the highest bidder.

He was ancient. And he had the power to survive in the viper pit that was the Nexus.

Randidly pressed his lips together and controlled his expression as best he could. He took several steps forward and sat down at the light bamboo table. That reminder of what this man was planning to do with Claudette was enough to steady him through this strange development.

He refused to balk easily before this twisted father.

Randidly’s mind moved frantically, trying to weigh loyalty to Claudette versus the subtle threat that Don Beigon made, even while he simply folded his hands in his lap. The Don leaned forward and poured Randidly a cup of steaming tea. The way his jacket fell truly revealed that his torso ended at a complex network of straps that attached him to the chair.

Of course, in the Nexus you didn’t need a whole body to wield overwhelming power.

As the older man leaned back and set the tea kettle down, Don Beigon’s lips curled up slightly. “...quite like your arm, I sense, my wounding was self inflicted. But I was not so bold as you, to directly alter the Aether body record of the Nexus. Heh. I… just wished to escape my past. And I found a new identity for myself in the Nexus, one that didn’t require legs at all or the tradition that was tied to them. Only power.”

Randidly took a sip of the tea. The flavor was warm and spicy, all cinnamon and clove and citrus. When he set the cup down, he finally addressed Don Beigon’s original question in as neutral a tone as possible. “I’m here to see if I can help Claudette.”

To Randidly’s surprise, the Don chuckled. “Heh. Let me guess, help protect her… from me? From my machinations? From her vicious father?”

Is this a situation where he wants to force me to admit going against him before he bares his fangs…? Randidly wondered. But still, he nodded. The Don had asked him to tell the truth and poured him tea. So the least he could do was tell the truth-

Randidly paused on that thought. His Nether Core was whirling, faster than he had seen it moving in a long time. His skin prickled, warning him. His eyes steadily narrowed into sharp points. Why the hell would it matter that he poured me tea…?

Seeing the shift in expression on Randidly’s face, Don Beigon’s heavy eyes showed an expression of surprise. “Oh. Heh. Well, you weren’t the Head Drill Sergeant for nothing, eh? Forgive an old man for wanting to use a few tricks to ensure the best for his daughter. Truly, your image is a little shallow… but that’s a matter of time, isn’t it? You’ll be a monster someday, in this man’s estimation, Randidly Ghosthound. Keep at it.”

However, Randidly heard something entirely different from that statement. The understated Don Beigon leered at him. But you aren’t a monster now, not yet.

Not like me.

Randidly’s hands tightened on the teacup, but he didn’t dare take another drink. He activated both Revelations of the Atramentous Threshold and Ruin is Inevitable, Yet This Too Shall Pass, but both Skills felt… anchorless, somehow. The Skills spun, but he couldn’t get any solid read on the situation and he didn’t dare forcefully flare his image to force the issue, not while they were calmly sitting across from each other and sipping tea. Begrudgingly, Randidly allowed his Skills to deactivate and scrutinized the man in front of him.

If Commandant Wick was the master of harsh rules and regulations, the Don in front of Randidly was deeply talented in the methods of soft power. Suddenly, the strange debts he had seen being paid at the entrance made more sense. That, perhaps, was the danger of this man. That you would happily throw yourself into his debt and then just as happily give up everything you had to repay him.

“I think,” Randidly said slowly. “That selling your daughter to the highest bidder… is not the best for Claudette.”

Again, Don Beigon seemed surprised. He glanced around at the surroundings for a few seconds, his eyes inscrutable. The birds continued their merry song, even with the air seemed to hum. “...and what do you know about the difficulties of being a father?”

To that, Randidly said nothing.