“Yo! Wake up, bruh! It’s morning already!”

  Fallon shook his old friend awake, who had been sleeping straight for 12 hours.

  “Two nights in a row, Vince!” the entrepreneur said. “24 hours of sleep in the last 36 – that’s a bit of an overkill, don’t you think?”

  Vincent, the White Bolt turned his head the other way, but did not open his eyes. His entire body had been covered in a dough-like mixture which had set overnight into a firm, clay-like crust. It wasn’t rigid like plaster, but it held together with enough strength to brace his body while it healed.

  A nurse began peeling it off. The mixture was infused with a Ki-charmed healing incantation. The bounty hunter took a deep breath – he felt rejuvenated and finally opened his eyes. The crusts of dough came off his eyelids.

  “Hey there, buddy.” Fallon smiled. “Feeling a’ight now? Or do you still need more?”

  “I’ll manage.”

  Vincent took a deep breath and then slowly sat up.

  “We gave you one hell of a wax job, white-hair… Cha!”

  “I’m gonna need a shower to wash this gooey stuff off.” He looked up. “Do you have any spare clothes?”

  Fallon stood up shaking his head. “Sure,” he said. “I’ll get some. Do you need anything else?”

  “Just breakfast… and a sword… a sword would be nice.”

  “Aa… do you want the blade served with rice or just eggs?”

  They exchanged a grin before Fallon walked out with the nurse and Vincent went into the bathroom to take a shower.

  ‘Tell Samantha I won’t be coming home after all…’ The bounty hunter had said this before leaving Fallon’s establishment with the Zeta Squad. It was a passphrase. As soon as he heard it, Fallon deployed two spotters to tail the group. And as soon as Vincent provided the signal, after escaping from the Ki-limiting braces, they moved in and teleported him away.

  He was brought immediately to one of Fallon’s casinos in Europe. Once there, Cultist healers on the rich-man’s payroll placed him under spells to begin healing work. They kept the bounty hunter submerged in Ki chambers similar to the ones inside the Eye’s Aquarae for more than 24 hours before giving him the 2 nights of sleep covered in Ki-charmed mud.

  In four days, his wounds had been healed, his Ki networks had been repaired, and his Ki rejuvenated – the White Bolt was ready to head out on his next mission.

  Water still clinging to his skin, Vincent walked out with a towel slung low on his waist. As he stroked back his hair, he noticed Fallon standing at the door with some clothes in his hand. His gaze lingered on the bounty hunter’s body for a few moments too many. Up close, the years-old scars were impossible to ignore – deep lines etched across his chest, shoulders, and back, each with a faint redness that made them look unsettled, like they had not fully healed. But what caught Fallon off guard was the contrast: Vincent’s left arm and left foot were untouched, smooth skin where there should have been damage like the rest.

  The White Bolt closed his eyes as he sighed. Slowly, the scars began to fade. Within a minute, they completely disappeared.

  “Why hide them?” Fallon asked, then gulped. “I’m sure that camouflage wastes Ki.”

  “And why doesn’t anyone know my name?” Vincent responded. “And why doesn’t anyone know who I am or where I live or what I do?”

  “Fair enough…”

  The host threw the clothes onto one armchair and sat in the other. Vincent picked them up and walked behind the dressing screen.

  Fallon asked, “So, Vee, when are you planning on going out again?”

  “Immediately,” he replied.

  “Gonna chase the remnants, huh?”

  “Probably not.”

  “I thought that was your mission.”

  Vincent walked out wearing a white half-sleeve t-shirt and black trousers. He came and sat down on the other armchair beside Fallon.

  “Game’s changed,” he said. “Everyone’s after the remnants but I can’t lay a finger on why.”

  Fallon smiled. “The Eye already has two. They just might be looking to complete the set… Cha!”

  “Two and a half…”

  Then, there was a knock on the door – two service boys brought breakfast. They placed the trays on the table in front of the duo and left.

  Vincent sipped the tea and breathed out an appreciative “ahh.”

  As he then shifted his attention towards the eggs and toast, Fallon asked, “Hypothetically speaking, what could Derek want with those remnants?”

  “He’s an alchemist,” Vincent replied, still chewing. “I’m not a hundred percent sure about the extent of their power. So, it’s tough to say.”

  “Hypothetically…” Fallon leaned ahead. “I mean, it’s not like the stones have ever been utilized to their potential.”

  “They have… just not to the potential their creators presumed.”

  “Wassa what now?” With one eyebrow raised, he added, “You’re gonna have to unpack that, bud.”

  Gulping down the egg, Vincent looked over. “The Cult of Assassins – their leader utilized the powers of the stones perfectly.”

  “No, no, no. He drugged his soldiers and then took every ounce of the fear of death out of them. They became blind faithfuls and beat the bejesus out of the Sanctum.”

  “Nope. Well, partially.” Wiping his hands with a tissue, the bounty hunter explained, “He would send armies of his faithfuls to fight the forces of the Sanctum. When his soldiers were killed, he’d use the Xoitique Pearl – the stone of Death – to trap their souls and keep them from crossing over to the purgatory. Then he’d use the Xoitique Diamond – stone of Life – to rejuvenate the dead bodies and merge them with the undead souls.”

  “Woah…”

  Vincent nodded. “No matter how strong the Sanctum’s force was, their enemy just never died.”

  “But hold on just a second.” He picked up a croissant and received a death stare from his friend. “What, Vee?” he asked. “It is mine, you know.”

  A shake of the head and Vincent shifted his focus back to the tea.

  “Look, we’ve all heard the old tales, ok,” Fallon continued. “The Xoitique Kingdom of Celestials that roamed the earth well before the time of Petrichor and Pollux. They wanted to break away from the dominion of God and created the three stones: the Diamond, the Pearl, and the Emerald – the stones of life, death, and unlimited Celestial power.”

  The White Bolt chuckled. “Then they found out the hard way how foolish their desires were.”

  “Yes but the tale doesn’t say anything about raising an army.”

  “One’s a bedtime story made from whatever’s left of an old legend. The leader of the assassins on the other hand, used the stones in an actual real life scenario. Which one are you gonna believe?”

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Hmm, good point… but then what about the Alchemists of recent times?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know – the Alchemists that rose up in arms against the Eye and the Order after the war five centuries ago.”

  “Oh.” Vincent took a deep breath. “They used the Diamond to good effect alright.”

  “Yup. They used its powers to keep themselves young and utilised its Celestial Ki to strengthen their magic to hurt the Eye and Order.”

  “Yes and then the Mystics decided to break the Diamond into pieces and scatter it around the globe.”

  “Hmm, exactly. Two centuries ago.”

  The conversation faded thereafter. Vincent kept eating in silence while Fallon sat with his head bowed wondering what the pursuit of the Xoitique remnants might entail for his business empire.

  Hushing of the air conditioner filled the silent space. Cooing of the pigeons sneaked in through the east-side window opened just a sliver, accompanied by the bright rays of morning sunshine. Distant sound of engines from 30 stories below was also raring to disturb the silence but fortunately could barely be heard.

  Half a smile escaped Vincent’s lips. The morning was peaceful. He had not felt this strong in a while and the tranquil surroundings were only making it better. He finished his eggs and leaned back in his armchair. With the teacup in hand, he brought one leg atop the other and took another sip.

  Fallon broke the silence. “But what could he do with half?” he muttered, still looking down.

  “Anybody’s guess.” The bounty hunter’s smile vanished as he took his last sip and placed the empty cup back on the table.

  The host looked at him. “No, but hypothetically… what could he achieve with half, assuming he has the half?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “He can’t raise the dead.”

  “Yeah, you’d need both complete stones for that.”

  His posture stiff and head pointing straight ahead, Fallon rolled his eyes towards Vincent.

  “What?” the latter asked.

  “You know, the assassins were never destroyed, killed. They were sealed.” The host raised one eyebrow. “So, maybe…”

  “Nah.” The bounty hunter shook his head. “You need a lot more than just half of the diamond to undo that. And that whole sealed-army idea is full of holes.”

  Fallon leaned back and pushed against the armchair as he stretched his legs. “Alright, then explain! What does he stand to gain from this? Vee, this guy’s the tongue-man of tongue-men, bruh!”

  The rich man looked over – his eyes wide open and gaze fixed on the bounty hunter. “No offense, but I know a bit more about the underground circuits than you do and I can tell you for a fact – even tongue-men buy information from Derek. You’ve told me stuff about the Xoitique Stones and I’ve done research on my own as well. But I can’t think of a single use of the damned stones to justify the trouble he’s gone through! He’s attacked the Eye, he’s attacked you, he’s revealed his movement openly… I mean what the hell?!”

  Vincent nodded. “Mm… I don’t think he is gaining anything from it.”

  Fallon leaned back, nose wrinkling and lips twisted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I don’t think he’s the player, Fallon. I think he’s just one of the bigger pieces on the board.”

  “Oh, come on!” A slap on the knee and the rich man added, “Alchemist, leader of a Cult, goes toe to toe with Hugo and survives, and you think he’s just another player? I’m not buying it.”

  “Do you hear what you’re saying?” Vincent brought both feet down on the ground. “Derek is so stupid he tried to battle Hugo and all he had was one partially decent wizard to help him. Who in their right mind would challenge Hugo Baylis like that? Even I was trying to avoid a direct confrontation with him.”

  “Didn’t you fight him before getting caught?”

  “Not one-on-one. As long as he had his stowaways to protect, he was distracted enough to not be at his ferocious best.”

  “So…” Fallon leaned in. “Could you for God’s sake please get to your point!”

  “He’s too dumb to be carrying this all on his own.” After a pause Vincent added, “The outpost was empty, Faris and Hugo were both there and I was there as well. Whoever is calling the shots wanted to remove three players in one go.”

  “So, is the player stupid too? Because you said it yourself just a minute ago that Derek can’t compete against Hugo…”

  “He wasn’t expecting Hugo to give me a free pass. Had I not played the part, the wizards would have killed the kids and joined up with Derek. With the added numbers, he just might’ve found an edge.”

  Fallon stood up. “Ok, then let’s cut the crap and recap,” he said. With hands in the pockets of his trousers, he paced up and down the room. “Derek’s too stupid. We’ve established that. I’m not buying it, but let’s roll with it for now. Xoitique remnants are at the centre of everything, fine. But there seems to be no sense to the mad race at all.” He stopped and looked at Vincent. “Wanna add anything, Vee?”

  With a grin on his face, the bounty hunter said, “Keepers are being attacked.”

  “Oh, blow me!” The host stood arms akimbo. “I’ve said this a million times – Keepers aren’t real! They’re just covert operatives of the Eye!”

  “Fine. But, whether we believe your theory or mine, someone’s targeting them.”

  “Who?”

  “Exactly. None of these. It’s not Derek, it’s not the Eye, not the Order, and it’s not Cultists either.”

  “So, what… a rogue? How can you be sure of that?”

  “Had Derek the abilities to pull that off, he would’ve wiped the floor with Hugo and the rest. But he didn’t. And the others… well, the Eye needs them, the Order doesn’t bother, and the Cults… they worship these operatives of the Eye…”

  The White Bolt kept smiling as Fallon looked away saying, “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “It makes perfect sense.” Vincent shook his head. “There’s just a few pieces missing…”

  Pointing at him, Fallon asked, “Any proofs of your theory yet – your theory of a mastermind?”

  “Could be.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “People have been following me…”

  “Where?”

  “Everywhere.”

  Fallon waited. Vincent sighed. “For the past two months, I’ve noticed a guy wearing a metallic grey coat appear in different places. I’m looking for a target and I see him sipping tea across the street, I’m meeting an informant and I see him go by on a bike, I am staking out a location and he is standing up there on the balcony. Once or twice, I’d let it slide. But repeatedly? And it’s always that same coat and I always have a hard time following his Ki. It’s like it’s masked but somehow without a Ki charged spell.”

  Perched on the armrest of the chair, Fallon crossed his arms and looked at the bounty hunter. “Following you?” His gaze narrowed. “Did you ever confront him?”

  “No. Honestly, I didn’t get the chance even.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because of so much going on in these past few months. And to be frank, he’s not bothering me. He’s just telling me that I’m being watched.” Looking away, he added, “He just wants me to know that I’m being watched.”

  “Wh-wh-why? To what end?”

  “Like I said, old friend…” Vincent looked at Fallon again. “The game’s bigger than Derek or Renekom.”

  Before the subsequent silence could get stretched out, the bounty hunter stood up. “I’m gonna wash my hands now,” he said. “Could you get me that sword to go, please?”

  Fallon, still with his head bowed, finally pushed himself off the armrest. “Sure,” he replied and walked out.

  Several minutes later, he walked back in with a katana in hand.

  “Your favourite,” Fallon said.

  Vincent took the sword out of the scabbard and gently ran his fingers atop the blade. He swung it swiftly just once then placed it back in.

  He nodded and took the sword. “VINOSHAN-WALA-POL,” he whispered and the sword vanished.

  “So, what’s the plan?” asked Fallon.

  Stroking his hair back, Vincent replied, “The usual.”

  The host smiled as his guest began walking away but stopped just in front of the door and looked back.

  “What?”

  “You should make yourself scarce, old friend.”

  The smile disappeared quickly. “Why?”

  “The Eye knows I know you. They’ll come asking questions.”

  Leaning ahead with a smirk on his face, the rich man quietly said, “They can come and fuck themselves!”

  Vincent too smiled and dropped his head. “You have been a most admirable ally.”

  Fallon giggled. “You’re not so bad yourself, Ee – from the alligators down under to the tongue-men in Europe, you’ve been helping me every step of the way.”

  Their partnership began with an assignment in Australia several years back. Fallon had employed the services of the White Bolt, the bounty hunter, to deal with bandits who were disturbing his business.

  Vincent chuckled. “Now that takes me back.”

  When the bounty hunter came to deal with the bandits he realised that they were actually on the payroll of larger organizations aiming to disgrace the rich man’s business empire. He stayed and cleaned the entire mess out.

  “That first one took months, eh Vee?” Fallon stood arms akimbo as he smiled and shook his head. “I don’t ask much now, but just keep me in the loop. If something’s going down, I want to know about it beforehand… for business purposes, of course.”

  The White Bolt nodded and looked up. “Till we meet again…”

  “Here or the other side?”

  “I guess we’ll find each other either way.”

  Ever since the mission in Australia, the two had remained allies helping keep each other’s operations safe and secure.

  Before he could leave though, the bounty hunter saw a black sleeveless long vest lying on the chair next to the door. “This yours?” he asked pointing at it.

  “Not anymore, I guess.”

  Vincent wore the vest and sighed. “Job’s not done yet, and the road’s getting thinner by the minute.”

  Fallon nodded. “Good luck out there,” he said, smiling. “And remember, my facilities will always facilitate friends… Cha!”

  With a nod, the White Bolt finally left.