Zenith Dominion - Side Story 4 (Patreon)

Other Duties as Assigned 

The first thing she learned about her summoners was that neither possessed a proper appreciation for ceremony. 

The summoning circle had barely faded when the black-armored man standing before her began examining the remains of the scroll. Azure runes flickered across his gauntlets as he studied the dissipating magical residue with far greater interest than he showed the magnificent creature he had just brought into existence. 

"The summoning appears stable, and I can't detect any abnormalities in her materialization. Her attributes and racial abilities should be intact." 

Beside him, a beautiful woman with six white wings leaned forward. 

"Oh, she's adorable! Alex, look at her!" 

She was a Level Eighty Greater Doppelganger, an elite mercenary capable of infiltration, impersonation, assassination, and considerable physical violence. Her natural body possessed elongated limbs, formidable claws, and a smooth, bone-white head with three dark openings where a human might expect a face. 

Adorable? 

A peculiar assessment, though perhaps her Lady perceived qualities that ordinary beings could not appreciate. 

She immediately knelt, lowering her head before the two extraordinary beings whose power she could sense without attempting to examine it. 

"My Lord, my Lady, this servant awaits your commands. Whatever duties you entrust to me, I shall perform them to the utmost of my abilities." 

Her Lady approached with an expression of growing amusement. 

"First, she needs a name. We can't spend the next century calling her Doppelganger Number One." 

"I was going to use her designation," her master replied. "It's perfectly functional, and we can distinguish her from any additional summons through the registry." 

"Alex, darling, we're giving her a name. Surely even you can appreciate that much." 

Mata maintained her kneeling posture. 

A name! A sacred designation bestowed by my Lady herself! 

She was prepared to cherish whatever name her mistress selected, even if it happened to be something dreadful. 

Her Lady studied her for a moment. 

"I've got it. Mata. Mata Hari, after the famous spy. Perfect for someone who specializes in espionage, sabotage, and the occasional assassination." 

Her master gave the suggestion some consideration. 

"That is a little on the nose, isn't it? Besides, wasn't the original Mata Hari arrested and executed?" 

Oh. 

"That is beside the point," her Lady informed him. 

She silently reconsidered the matter. 

Being named after an unsuccessful spy was admittedly unfortunate. On the other hand, she had been granted a name by her mistress, and no amount of historical incompetence on the part of its previous owner could diminish that honor. 

"Very well," her master conceded. "Mata it is." 

She bowed until her forehead nearly touched the floor. 

"This servant is deeply honored, my Lady. I shall bear the name with pride and endeavor to prove far more successful than its unfortunate predecessor." 

Her Lady laughed. 

Mata remained perfectly motionless. 

My existence has begun with laughter, praise, and the promise of useful employment. Truly, I am blessed. 

=X= 

Her first assignment required Mata to impersonate her mistress. 

This was an honor of such magnitude that she nearly forgot to maintain her usual composure. 

Nearly. 

The operation was straightforward. Her master and mistress had entered Qarth under false identities, presenting themselves as wealthy travelers from the distant east. Mata would assume the appearance of Lady Amano, a Yi Tish noblewoman, while her master continued his disguise as Slade, the woman's mercenary bodyguard. 

The Qartheen warlocks had already shown considerable interest in their magical possessions. 

Now they would be given an opportunity to make an exceedingly foolish decision. 

Mata reproduced her mistress's assumed appearance with meticulous care. Long raven hair framed a beautiful face with warm hazel eyes, while expensive silks completed the impression of a wealthy eastern noblewoman. 

She practiced the mannerisms before a mirror. 

Her Lady possessed a particular way of looking at people when they amused her. Mata attempted to imitate it, then adjusted the expression until the resemblance was nearly perfect. 

Behold the most beautiful woman in Qarth. 

She reconsidered. 

The second most beautiful woman in Qarth. My Lady remains without equal. 

An important correction. 

Her mistress inspected the disguise and nodded approvingly. 

"Remember, Mata, you're supposed to let them kidnap you. Don't kill anyone until they've taken you to the House of the Undying, and try to look frightened when they grab you." 

"Your instructions are understood, my Lady. I shall provide a convincing display of distress and permit the hostile humans to transport me to their headquarters." 

"Good. And please don't smile while they're carrying you away. That might give the game away." 

Mata committed the instruction to memory. 

Apparently, kidnapping victims did not generally regard their circumstances as an exciting professional opportunity. 

How strange. 

Unfortunately, the operation also required her to spend several hours accompanying Xaro Xhoan Daxos. 

The merchant prince was an extraordinary creature. 

Bald, excessively perfumed, and possessed of a face that seemed perpetually prepared to dissolve into tears, he spoke with such enthusiasm about his wealth that Mata privately named him the Bald Weeping Coinpurse. 

She rather liked the designation. 

It combined his most recognizable features with his principal contribution to society. 

Xaro guided her through the markets and promenades, describing ships, jewels, spices, and the commercial importance of Qarth. Every object apparently required an explanation of its monetary value, followed by a reminder that he owned something larger, finer, or more expensive. 

He also appeared to be courting her. 

Or rather, the woman he believed her to be. 

Mata listened with the gracious attention expected of a noblewoman while considering how easily his head might be detached from his shoulders. 

Master intends to retain this specimen for future use. Decapitation would therefore be inadvisable. 

She smiled politely. 

Xaro seemed encouraged. 

How remarkably easy humans are to please. 

Perhaps they were rather like livestock. Provide adequate food, comfortable housing, and occasional flattering noises, and they became remarkably cooperative. 

Her mistress had expressed strong objections to humans being treated as property. 

Mata did not entirely understand why humans warranted a different classification from other animals, but her Lady's wishes were clear. 

Consequently, slavery was unacceptable. 

A simple rule, admirably free of exceptions. 

She was contemplating this when armed men emerged from the nearby warehouses and attacked Xaro's guards. 

At last, the operation had begun. 

The street descended into chaos as merchants scattered and swords were drawn. Mata permitted a large human to seize her arm while another pressed a drug-soaked cloth over her face. 

She widened her eyes and struggled briefly, taking care not to break his wrist. 

Oh, what dreadful misfortune! I am being abducted by wicked men! 

Then she allowed her borrowed body to go limp. 

The kidnappers caught her before she struck the stones. 

Excellent. Very attentive abductors. 

Her performance seemed convincing. Xaro was shouting, several guards were dead, and the surrounding humans had begun running in every direction. 

Mata remained motionless as the warlocks carried her away. 

She was rather proud of herself. 

Her first official assignment was progressing splendidly. 

=X= 

Pyat Pree proved disappointingly ordinary. 

The leader of the Qartheen warlocks possessed blue lips, pale skin, and the air of a man who had spent several decades cultivating an appearance of sinister importance. 

Mata had hoped for an Overlord. 

An Elder Lich would have sufficed. 

Instead, she had been kidnapped by elderly humans who apparently mistook poor hygiene and elaborate threats for formidable magic. 

They bound her to an obsidian pillar inside a chamber covered with fading magical inscriptions. Pyat Pree then spent several minutes explaining how he intended to exchange her life for the Qingdao sword carried by her supposed bodyguard. 

The Bald Weeping Coin-purse was insufferable, but this creature may actually be worse. 

Pree appeared offended by her silence. He drew closer, describing the unpleasant consequences awaiting her if she refused to cooperate. 

Mata listened attentively while wondering whether human civilization had developed speech primarily to consume time. 

Eventually, two acolytes approached with potion. 

One touched her shoulder. 

Mata killed him. 

The sudden destruction of his body caused considerable alarm among the remaining warlocks. She released her restraints and abandoned the noblewoman's appearance, allowing her natural form to unfold beneath the chamber's sickly light. 

Someone screamed. 

How flattering. They have finally recognized my true magnificence. 

The warlocks attacked with spells and weapons of such disappointing quality that Mata briefly wondered whether they were attempting to entertain her. 

She dispatched them without difficulty. 

One man tried to burn her, another drew a sword, and a third began an incantation so slowly that she considered waiting for him to finish out of professional courtesy. 

She decided against it. 

Daro, the warlocks' second-in-command, attacked with the Flamewrought, the enchanted sword purchased through Xaro's auction. 

Mata caught the burning blade in one hand. 

The flames extinguished. 

Oh, dear. That belongs to Master. 

She examined the weapon before turning her attention back to its wielder. Perhaps her master could repair it. Daro attempted to retreat, so she killed him before the matter became inconvenient. 

Within moments, only Pyat Pree remained. 

Mata left him untouched. 

Her master had reserved the leader for himself, and she had no intention of spoiling his enjoyment, although she doubted this particular human would provide much entertainment. 

Lord Daedalus arrived shortly afterward. 

Mata immediately knelt. 

"Good work, Mata." 

Her entire existence became infinitely more splendid. 

Praise! Direct praise from Master! 

She maintained her dignified posture, naturally. 

Her master examined the chamber and expressed disappointment with the warlocks' abilities. Mata silently agreed with his assessment. 

Pyat Pree attempted another spell. 

Lord Daedalus raised a finger, and blue lightning struck the warlock, leaving him smoking against the wall. 

An admirably efficient conclusion. We might have avoided several minutes of conversation had he done that earlier. 

Then her master's attention turned toward the iron cages standing against the far wall. 

Inside were twelve human children. 

Mata had noticed them upon entering the chamber. They were small, underfed, and heavily drugged, apparently serving as sources of magical energy for the warlocks' rituals. 

An extraordinarily inefficient arrangement. 

"What shall we do about these humans, my Lord?" She asked. 

Several possible solutions occurred to her. Leaving the children behind would require no further resources. Killing them would eliminate their suffering and any potential security concerns. 

Both options seemed reasonable. 

"Get them out," her master ordered. "Take them to the safe house in the merchant district. Feed them, clothe them, and make sure nobody follows you. If anyone attempts to interfere, eliminate them." 

Mata bowed. 

"By your will, my Lord. I shall deliver all twelve to safety and ensure they receive the provisions you have authorized." 

Feed them. Clothe them. Protect them. 

An unusual allocation of resources. She examined the nearest child. Small, dirty, frightened, and lacking any immediately useful characteristics. Perhaps her master had recognized some hidden potential. 

Then again, her Lady had previously corrected him concerning matters involving human welfare. It was entirely possible he simply considered preserving children morally important. 

A strange preference, but hardly an unreasonable one for a being of his stature. 

Mata tore the bars from the cage.  

The children screamed. 

She paused, noticing that their attention had fixed upon her claws. 

Ah. Perhaps my natural appearance is unsuitable for childcare. 

She transformed into a dark-haired young woman wearing a plain servant's dress. The screaming diminished, although one child began crying harder when Mata approached. 

"You will accompany me to a secure residence where food, water, clothing, and medical assistance will be provided. Please remain orderly so that I may complete your extraction without unnecessary delays." 

The crying continued. 

Mata considered the problem. 

Perhaps the child required a more immediate incentive. 

"There will be bread," she added. 

The child raised a trembling hand and asked whether water would be available.  

Mata assured them that drinking water was included among the authorized provisions. Several children immediately attempted to stand. 

Remarkable. Human young respond to basic supplies almost as reliably as trained soldiers. 

The extraction proceeded successfully. During the journey, the smallest girl attached herself to Mata's sleeve and refused to release it. 

Mata examined the child's hand. Removing it would be easy. Unfortunately, doing so would violate her master's orders. She therefore allowed the attachment to remain throughout the journey. 

I appear to have acquired an accessory. 

An exceedingly troublesome accessory. 

=X= 

The second thing Mata learned about her summoners was that they were exceptionally powerful and occasionally rather foolish. 

Lord Daedalus possessed a mind capable of understanding magical principles that would drive ordinary scholars insane. 

He also considered reorganizing supply warehouses a stimulating recreational activity. 

Her Lady could destroy armies through the application of divine magic. 

She nevertheless spent considerable time worrying about whether frightened servants were receiving adequate meals. 

Mata found both habits peculiar. She also found them endearing. 

Her loyalty was absolute, but she saw no reason to regard her master and mistress as incapable of making mistakes. If Lord Daedalus misplaced an important document, Mata would retrieve it. If her Lady forgot an appointment, Mata would remind her. 

And if either attempted to solve an administrative dispute through excessive magical force, Mata would discreetly suggest a less destructive alternative. 

Someone must ensure that the gods remember where they placed their correspondence. 

As Qarth came under their authority, her responsibilities expanded accordingly. 

She organized audiences, managed confidential reports, supervised correspondence, and occasionally impersonated officials whose honesty required investigation. 

She also discovered that humans possessed an astonishing talent for creating paperwork. 

The former merchant princes had devised a system in which documents required multiple seals, witnesses, and fees, many of which eventually entered somebody's private treasury. 

They have invented a civilization-wide method of stealing from one another while recording the theft in triplicate. 

Impressive, in its own dreadful fashion. 

Mata soon developed a private hobby. 

Whenever a human official submitted an especially foolish proposal, she assigned it a position within an imaginary ranking of administrative incompetence. 

The leading candidate was a merchant who requested permission to continue purchasing slaves, provided the transactions were renamed permanent employment contracts. 

Another proposed charging admission at public hospitals. 

A third insisted that commoners should never be permitted to bring legal complaints against noblemen. 

Such splendid specimens of human stupidity. Perhaps I should have them preserved for educational purposes. 

Outwardly, she merely informed the petitioners that their proposals had been forwarded for consideration. 

They usually departed looking relieved. 

Mata found this delightful. 

=X= 

Then Varion arrived. Mata disliked him almost immediately.  

The Lamassu was powerful, intelligent, and possessed abilities appropriate to an elite mercenary summon. 

Unfortunately, he was also a cat. 

A very large cat with wings, an intolerably high opinion of himself, and the ability to communicate his foolishness directly into other people's minds. 

Their first disagreement concerned a carpet. 

The cat had stretched his enormous body across an expensive furnishing prepared for foreign dignitaries. 

Mata approached him. 

"Lord Varion, this carpet has been reserved for an imperial reception. I must request that you relocate yourself so the attendants may complete their preparations." 

The Lamassu opened one golden eye. 

'How unexpectedly courteous, little shapeshifter. Have you finally recognized my natural superiority?' 

"I recognize your position within the household, Lord Varion. Unfortunately, your present location is interfering with its operation." 

'Then I suggest moving the operation.' 

Mata maintained her composure.  

You enormous, insufferable, fur-covered cushion. 

She briefly considered assuming Lord Daedalus's appearance and ordering the creature to move. Her ability to impersonate her master was intended for authorized assignments. 

This was not one. Regrettably. 

"I shall arrange another carpet for the visiting delegation," she replied, making a mental note concerning the importance of feline-resistant furnishings. 

'Splendid. Cooperation is the foundation of civilization.' 

Internally, she was screaming. The situation deteriorated when her Lady discovered Varion resting upon a terrace. 

"Oh, there you are, you great fluffy menace!" 

Her mistress approached the Lamassu with a delighted smile. Varion lowered his enormous head. She scratched behind his ears. 

The cat purred in both satisfaction and indignation. 

Mata watched from the doorway. 

What is this injustice? 

Her Lady continued petting him, apparently unconcerned that the creature had frightened three servants, damaged a decorative railing, and occupied valuable diplomatic furnishings for several hours. 

"Such a good boy," her mistress murmured. 

GOOD BOY? 

Mata's hands remained folded before her. 

She had completed sixty-three administrative tasks the previous day, including correcting an accounting discrepancy and intercepting two suspicious couriers. 

Her reward had been a satisfied nod. Varion received ear scratches. The Lamassu glanced toward her. 

'Jealous, little shapeshifter?' 

"Your Ladyship, the afternoon appointments are prepared, and the provincial correspondence awaits your review." 

"Thank you, Mata. I'll be there shortly." 

"Of course, Mistress. I shall have the reports arranged in order of urgency." 

Varion closed his eyes contentedly. Mata withdrew with her dignity intact. Her dignity was the only thing intact. 

=X= 

The formal establishment of the Zenith Dominion brought a considerable expansion of Mata's responsibilities. 

Governors required appointments, military commands needed formal authority, and every newly conquered city possessed an astonishing number of administrative problems. 

Mata managed the transition with her customary efficiency. 

By then, she had perfected her secretary's appearance: short black hair, pale eyes, immaculate clothing, and a face so expressionless that even experienced merchants struggled to determine whether she approved of their proposals. 

It was an excellent disguise. 

Her natural appearance would have been considerably less diplomatic. 

During one council session, Xaro Xhoan Daxos delivered an elaborate speech concerning the importance of preserving Qarth's commercial traditions. 

Mata stood beside her Lady, listening with impeccable composure. 

The Bald Weeping Coin-purse has been speaking for eleven minutes. He has communicated three facts, two of which were already known. The third is probably false. 

Xaro continued. 

Perhaps his robes conceal a device that produces additional words whenever he moves. 

Her mistress interrupted with a direct question. 

The former merchant prince immediately became more concise. 

Mata approved. 

Behold the divine power of asking someone to get to the point. 

She rather enjoyed watching her Lady manage Xaro. The man possessed enough intelligence to recognize danger and enough vanity to remain amusing despite it. 

His behavior also changed according to her mistress's expressions. 

A smile encouraged elaborate compliments. A raised eyebrow shortened them. Visible annoyance produced near-miraculous efficiency. 

An excellent example of adaptive survival behavior in domesticated humans. 

=X= 

One afternoon, after Xaro departed from another audience, her mistress asked where Lord Daedalus had gone. 

Mata informed her that her master remained in Meereen, investigating ancient religious manuscripts. 

Her Lady sighed. Mata recognized that sigh. It meant her master had been working too much again. 

My Lord, your wife misses you! 

Fortunately, Mata possessed a solution. 

She presented the invitation to the Festival of Renewal at Echo Verdant . Her mistress brightened immediately and instructed Mata to inform her master that both rulers would attend. 

Then came the threat. 

If Lord Daedalus refused, he would be sleeping on the couch for a month. Mata considered the proposed punishment. There was an obvious flaw. 

"Mistress, Lord Daedalus possesses the ability to create exceptionally comfortable furniture. The proposed punishment may require additional restrictions if it is to produce the intended effect." 

Her Lady stared at her. Then she laughed. 

Success! I have amused my mistress! 

Her Lady authorized additional instructions forbidding her master from enchanting the couch, constructing a replacement, or retreating into one of his private sanctuaries. 

Mata recorded every restriction faithfully. She would deliver the message exactly as instructed. 

It was her duty. And she intended to enjoy every moment of it. 

=X= 

Later that evening, Mata completed the remaining correspondence in the quiet of the Queen's Study. 

Her master and mistress had departed for the festival, leaving the Bastion in the care of its guards and administrative personnel. 

She arranged the next morning's reports and checked the appointments. 

Everything was prepared. 

Since her summoning, she had served as an infiltrator, assassin, impersonator, intelligence officer, secretary, and occasional caretaker of human children. 

She had witnessed cities fall and an empire rise. 

Her master and mistress had become rulers of vast territories, worshipped as gods by growing numbers of mortals. 

They were magnificent, powerful, and occasionally ridiculous. 

Mata adored them dearly. 

She would protect them from any enemy, obey their commands without hesitation, and devote every ability she possessed to preserving what they had built. 

She would also continue correcting their administrative oversights. 

That was equally important. 

A faint sound interrupted her thoughts. 

Varion's enormous head appeared through the doorway. 

'Ah, little shapeshifter. Working late again?' 

"Lord Varion, the study is closed for the evening. If you require assistance, I can arrange for an attendant to escort you elsewhere." 

'How tragic. And here I was hoping to inspect the imperial furniture.' 

His gaze moved toward her mistress's empty chair. 

Our radiant mistress has gone to the festival, I presume? A pity. I was hoping she might spare a moment to scratch behind my ears. 

Mata felt an immediate surge of indignation. 

Again? 

The Lamassu's whiskers twitched. 

'You really ought to relax. Perhaps if you learned to purr, she would pet you too.' 

Mata remained perfectly expressionless. 

"Your suggestion has been noted, Lord Varion. I recommend returning to your quarters before the evening guards are obliged to report another incident involving damaged furnishings." 

Varion gave a deep, amused rumble. 

'Such a stern little creature. No wonder she likes me better.' 

He withdrew. 

Mata watched until he disappeared down the corridor. 

Then she inspected the room making sure no one was watching. Mata raised both hands, curled her fingers into claws, and silently hissed at the doorway. 

The gesture was extraordinarily satisfying. 

She returned to her desk, smoothed her sleeves, and resumed her perfectly expressionless appearance. Her Lady would return tomorrow, bringing more work, more appointments, and undoubtedly more foolish humans. 

Unfortunately, there would also be more Varion. Mata looked at the small silver bell her mistress used to summon her secretary. 

After considering its position, she moved it slightly closer to the chair. An entirely practical adjustment. Her Lady would find it easier to call upon her. Mata regarded her handiwork with satisfaction. 

Let us see the oversized cat accomplish something half so useful.