VG - Chapter 4 (Rewrite) - Fine Filigree  (Patreon)

Two chapters in a day again! I shouldn;t be proud, but I am. It means I'm doing better.

Anyways... another rewrite. Sprinkled a lot more background hints in this version, and put more details for all the gadgets that Dahlia and Kathrine have access too. Cant say I love it, but it's a huge step up from the previous version.

Hope you enjoy.

“First things first, do you have your gas mask? I left mine in my luggage,” Kathrine asked.

“Of course, I never go anywhere without it,” I replied, slipping my satchel onto a nearby desk so I could dig through it. 

I normally only carried what I considered essential, or things that I couldn’t risk letting out of my sight. However, since we had been called back to the estate, I’d slipped a few extra things into the bag to keep them safe if anyone decided to riffle through my luggage in the few minutes that it was out of my sight. 

“You put your hatchets into your satchel?” Kathrine asked as I pulled out a pair of brass colored, heavily filigreed hand axes which, to an outsider, probably looked too delicate and ornate to be of any real use in combat. 

“Just because your mother knows about them doesn’t mean that I want her, or one of our other relatives, to get their hands on them,” I replied, gently squeezing the trigger on one of the hatchets so I could watch the intricate clockwork built into the weapon turn. “Even though I know they’d never be able to replicate the mechanisms, or wield them as well as I do, that doesn’t mean I like the idea of someone studying the gearworks, or worse, trying to destroy them,” I said before placing the weapons to the side. 

I took a moment to glare at my cousin. “But I’m guessing you already thought of all that, considering you're wearing your rapier at your hip,” I said before turning back to my bag. “I’m not the only one who wants to keep their weapon out of everyone’s grubby hands.”

“Guilty as charged,” Kathrine laughed. “I’ll be honest, I was actually more surprised that you didn’t have them strapped to your back than you were carrying them.” 

“Oh… That’s because I’m carrying throwing knives instead,” I muttered. “I figured that if I got into a fight, it would be far harder for someone to claim that I’m the one who took things too far when I only had holdout weapons on me.”

“Maybe you should try to de-escalate, instead of immediately jumping directly into a fight,” Kathrine said.

“Easy for you to say; you have your mother’s backing. At least nominally,” I said. “Since I don’t have any immediate family to back me up, nor a title to fall back on, a lot of our cousins think they can do whatever they want to me and get away with it, so I need to show them they’re wrong.”

“Maybe when we were twelve,” Kathrine snorted. “Most of them know better than to mess with you, especially after what you did to the twins.”

“Most, not all,” I grumbled. “If they all respected me, we wouldn’t be holed up in the lounge while I dug through my belongings for a gas mask.”

Kathrine tilted her head to the side, her smile falling off. “Unfortunately, true,” she muttered.

“Speaking of which…” I said, pulling out my gas mask. I did a quick check to make sure that it hadn’t suffered any damage in transit, and that the straps were intact before handing it over to Kathrine.

It’s not like the checks were necessary; the Brethren-style gas mask resembled the old-school plague doctor mask, but had a shorter nose and was covered in armor plating. I had no doubt that we could have created a better design if someone put their mind to it. However, the hooded plague doctor design had long become synonymous with the Salvenum’s elite forces, so my aunt had declared that in this case design should trump function. 

While I wasn’t a huge fan, I had to admit there was something to be said about seeing thugs and criminals fleeing in terror at the briefest glance at one of our masks. It certainly made some jobs easier.

As soon as I passed the mask over, Kathrine did her own checks on it. Although we trusted each other, we both knew that you should never trust anyone else with your equipment; It was better to be safe than sorry.

She pulled the straps back, and raised the mask to try it on, but she paused before finally pulling it into position. “Are you really okay with lending me your mask?” she asked. “I know you agreed right away, but I feel a little bad about taking it from you.”

“Why? It’s the right decision. I’m functionally immune to most dangerous substances, and while it does feel like there are hundreds of molten needles trying to push their way out of my head while my body detoxes, that’s better than you going into a coma, or worse, after being exposed to something nasty. If I had any reservations about lending you my mask, I wouldn’t have given it to you,” I said before reaching into my bag and pulling out an ornate wooden box. “If you’re worried, we can always go retrieve your mask from your room, but I suggest we finish preparing before then.”

I carefully pressed on a set of panels on the side, triggering the hidden latch, before lifting the lid. Inside were several layers of vials, carefully secured to specially designed restraints and separated by several layers of padding. 

Pulling the top layer up caused the internal mechanisms to activate, causing the arms attached to each section to telescope up and turn, turning the layers into a single tall panel. 

I took a moment to ensure everything was still secure before perusing the collection of vials. Most of them contained rare medicines or antidotes, but a few contained potent toxins. I plucked a single vial full of sickly mustard-colored liquid from the display before folding everything back down again and securing the top back on the box.

“The perfect solution to our annoying problem,” I declared, holding up the vial.

“You said it’s aerosolized, right? So how do we deploy it if someone tries to sneak in? Just throw the vial?” Kathrine asked.

I shook my head. “Not a chance; these vials are made of crystalline glass; it would take quite a significant impact to cause them to shatter,” I said. “We’ll either have to uncork it manually or use an alternative delivery system.”

Kathrine’s eyes narrowed. “Alternative delivery system? You mean test you hatchets, don’t you?” 

“No, of course not,” I replied defensively. “We thoroughly tested out weapons when we received them. This is just a chance for me to use one of their more obscure features. Besides, using one of my hatchets as the delivery system is a lot safer and more reliable than our other options.”

“Fine,” Kathrine conceded. “Just be careful, I don’t want to accidentally get dosed by that stuff.”

“Don’t worry, I will,” I replied before reaching over and grabbing one of my hatchets. 

In the middle of the hatchet’s head, midway between the handle and the blade there was a small hollow section. Most people would probably dismiss this odd section as a stylistic choice, but in reality it served a very specific and special purpose. By pulling down the restraining bar on one side of the hollow I was able to squeeze the vial into the hollow; It was an exact fit. Once it was in place I reset and tightened the brace to prevent the vial from moving. 

“Done!” I announced, sliding the hatchet into my belt. 

“I can’t believe how casual you can be with such a dangerous toxin sitting on your hip. What would you do if it was accidentally triggered?” Kathrine asked.

“Probably stagger around with a headache for a while,” I replied. “But that’ll never happen. The only way that vial could crack now is for me to trigger the hatchet’s mechanisms. You know what they say, ‘There’s nothing more reliable than Vencii engineering’.”

“If only that were true,” Kathrine muttered. “Now what? Do you want to head to my room to pick up my mask?” 

I considered for a moment before shaking my head. “Although I’d prefer to have a gas mask if Dimitri wanted to ambush us anywhere the hallways leading up to our bedrooms would be the best place to do it. They’re narrow, and there’s only one way into that wing, so it’s easy to block off. I’d rather avoid the area until we meet your mother,” I said.

“Sensible,” Kathrine replied, before sinking back into the overly plush chair she was sitting in. “So, what shall we do while we wait?”

I glanced around at the walls of books surrounding us before turning back to Kathrine, a small smirk on my face. “I don’t know, chess?”