31 The Enforcers (1)

"You're an idiot." 

Zephyr ignored Dain, who hovered by his side at the break of dawn, keeping an eye on him. Zephyr kept a scrunched-up snowball on the side of his face where he'd been punched. He woke up moments ago, apparently completely conked out the entire night. 

Maz was the one to drag his ass back to camp—literally dragging his body through the snow. Zephyr's clothes were still damp. He moved closer to the fire, not for fear of getting ill because his wet clothes were more irritating, clinging to his skin than feeling cold.

Garzon stomped out of his tent, pausing when he saw Zephyr. "Do that again, and I'll kill you. No matter what the demon lord says. You'll be dead before he knows it." He pointed a grubby finger at Zephyr, his voice low in the early morning, an attempt to keep his threat private so others wouldn't question who this demon lord was.

"Already got the memo, thanks." Zephyr held the snow away from his face as proof.

Garzon snarled and turned away. "Maz! Tez! Get up!"

"How am I an idiot?" Zephyr finally questioned Dain's. 

"You could have got killed."

"Thought you didn't care." 

"I do when it's from idiocy. It irks me when people die because they're fools," Dain hissed, smacking Zephyr's shoulder before getting up to get ready for the day.

"You call it foolishness. I call it curiosity. I learned more about our operation-"

"Anyone can tell that demon was a level 2 or will you blame that on amnesia as well?" Dain scoffed at Zephyr who was momentarily lost for words. 

"And did you find out what his role is? We know close to nothing about them." Now, Zephyr knew that their powers transcended past anything he might have conjured up. 

Bat wings and horns, sure, why not? He was a demon. 

The utter power behind his blows… Alright, the Draegorths proved how much stronger they were than a Slinktail. 

That magic, though… Some sort of telekinesis; he wasn't expecting that.

Now, Zephyr also knew that a powerful level 2 protected them and more than likely protected more than one gang. Sorgaran mentioned he was one of three level 2s left or left in the world of Thraesia who wasn't imprisoned or tortured. He was probably earning a lot of coin for sitting on his ass. 

Dain didn't answer Zephyr's question, so he left him to start the day. There was a little more to consider now, even as Zephyr mindlessly stole from people's pockets. 

That afternoon, Zephyr sat from the rooftop of a bell tower, a great advantage point to watch civilians of any town. He munched on a stolen loaf of bread, his tail swishing behind him, relieved to feel it stretched out instead of stuck under his garments, even for a little while. 

While he mulled over Sorgaran's words from the night before, wondering how much longer it might take to become a Draegorth, the clinking sounds of armour and rhythmic steps echoed through the streets, and people moved aside, watching wide-eyed. 

It would be quicker than Dain said, anyway. Sorgaran made it sound easy but wouldn't divulge any secrets if there were any, about enhancing the process.

Oh wait, maybe he should pay more attention to what was happening in the street?

Armoured men, different to the local guard's worn leather armour, started piling into the town centre. Sauntering behind those who acted like they were in a regiment of an army, were three distinguishable individuals.

"Enforcers."

Zephyr jolted to the sound of Fig's voice and then glared at her, already eating some of his bread as she sat beside him, legs dangling over the edge. 

When did she sneak up on him? 

Zephyr's gaze snapped back to the three individuals when Fig's words sank in. So they were the enforcers? Fig's attention was zeroed in on them and not the men at the front.

"You know them?" Zephyr questioned, ripping off more of the bread with his sharp teeth while staring at the three who stood out from the rest. 

Two men, one woman. They looked more like rogues, someone he'd come across in one of the rundown taverns he'd been frequenting for his… experiments.

"The guy with the guns is Hawk." Fig pointed her chin in his direction. 

Hawk stood to the side, rifles crossed over on his back, wearing a long leather worn duster coat almost reaching his ankles, something similar to a leather cowboy hat on his head, brown locks just below the brim of it.

"Right… Hawk… and he's called that because-"

"His eyes are as good as s hawk's, duh. He has good aim and rarely misses." Zephyr rolled his eyes at Fig's answer.

"Guy in the middle, that's Ace Chance. Not sure if that's his real name. He's a strategist, alleged gentleman, also a gambler-"

"How do you know this?" Zephyr turned on the Slinktail, still eating his bread. 

"Understanding your opponents is key in winning and survival… I've also managed to get away from Ace before. The trio are rarely together, but if they are, then they mean business." Fig's gaze remained locked on the figures.

Zephyr looked back. From what he could see from such a distance, Ace was clean-shaven, with blonde hair styled back, probably with gel or whatever they used here. His tastes were finer than his comrade, Hawk's. He looked more like a diplomat and someone who shouldn't be walking the filthy streets in such luxurious garments and high-valued swords, and… was that the reflection of gems on his fingers? 

Hmmm, Ace might walk and talk like a gentleman, but he had a keen eye, observing his surroundings as he plastered what seemed like a charming smile on his face. This was someone to be wary of.

Finally, his eyes rested on the only female in the group. "What about her? What's her story?" Zephyr asked, grabbing his waterskin to wash down the dry bread with. 

Fig took the waterskin from his hands after and also swigged some before answering, oblivious or ignoring Zephyr's narrowed eyes. "No idea."

Zephyr's head swivelled back to look at the Slinktail. "What you mean, no idea? You just said it was important to know things about your opponents."

Fig shrugged. "She was harder to get information on, and apparently anyone that dared try to investigate her or come close to her died."

Zephyr looked back at the redhead. Like Hawk, she wore a leather hat, corset and breeches with knee high boots. He couldn't see any weapons on her from here, but if she was an enforcer, he was sure there was something up her sleeves. Or did she fall under the typical femme fatale category and poisoning others? 

Zephyr grunted in response, his eyes trained on the woman, and then he moved to Ace and Hawk. The men conversed while the redhead scanned their surroundings.

Watching these enforcers reinforced Zephyr's plan. He would oblige by following Sorgaran's words for a while, laying low and staying out of trouble, especially after Fig's little introduction to the enforcers like they're some sort of heroes in a movie. Zephyr almost snorted, and the Slinktails were the villains. 

"Shit!" Fig dove to the side as a bullet ricocheted off a tile the Slinktail had been sitting on, leaving splodges of her blood in place.

Zephyr looked back at the trio of enforcers and cursed under his breath. 

Hawk, with a smirk on his lips, aimed the barrel of his gun towards him, and the gunshot reverberated through the air.