Bentir & Kai Reunite

Chapter Twenty Eight: Exile

Bentir had slept terribly. By terribly, he hadn’t really slept at all. After leaving Asta in the Library, he’d headed straight for the bedroom he shared with three other Guild members. If the guilt of Delt’s absence wasn’t enough to disturb him, then the swirling thoughts of his contract certainly were. He’d checked it several times over, hoping each time that he opened the file, he’d find a mistake. He’d realise this was all a fever dream that was finally over.

Sadly, that moment never came. In the early hours of the morning, Bentir sat up in his bed covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Stretching his arm out to grab a glass of water, he jerks at the sight of Delt’s empty bed, causing the glass to shatter on the bedroom floor. Cursing under his breath, Bentir pulls the covers off and hurriedly cleans up the mess. It hadn’t woken the other two Guild members, which Bentir wasn’t sure boded well for their skills as assassins, but he wasn’t complaining. It saved him having to explain why Delt was still absent, and he had to prepare to leave HQ.

After a very quick shower, Bentir dressed and headed straight for the canteen to grab an early breakfast. The cooks had barely begun, but Bentir explained the nature of his situation and was handed a bowl of porridge. Wolfing it down in several bites along with a mug of tea, Bentir slams the bowl and mug down on the counter. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Bentir strides in the direction of the Equipment Room.

No one was there, aside from the Guild member sat behind the desk. Bentir quickly retrieved the items he needed and scrawled a signature on the sign-out sheet. The Guild kept a very close eye on who took what weapons, and your contract level allowed you access to different weapons. Yellow level, the lowest kind of contract, only allowed you access to a sniper and nothing else. Bentir’s red contract meant he could take a variety of different weapons, but he chose his favourite, the single long curved blade that was now sheathed at his hip.

He’d also brought a pistol that was strapped to a holster on his right thigh and two smoke grenades. He didn’t opt for any of the more colourful options that some of the more committed Guild members would choose, Bentir saw his job as an art form. A beautiful masterpiece which must be done with elegance, elegance meaning it was performed quickly and with as little pain as possible. As Bentir had said many a time, they were a Guild of assassins, not a Guild of mass murdering sycophants.

Bentir heads towards the lift at the front of HQ, only to run into Damer who is carrying a large stack of papers, glasses perched precariously on the edge of his nose. Damer offers a warm smile when he sees Bentir which Bentir shakily returns, Bentir had always liked Damer. After all these years, Bentir had begun to think of Damer as a friend, he usually gave the advice that Bentir sought outside of the Core Four. Damer was often the voice of reason in the High Council, at least that’s what Asta had told him. Asta. He cringed at the memory of how he’d left her last night, certainly not one of his finest moments.

Damer was only slightly taller than Bentir, which was unusual, as Bentir stood at quite a height. Unlike Bentir, Damer was much leaner in his build and couldn’t stand the thought of killing another human, or animal for that matter.

“You’re up early.” Damer glances at the assassin curiously.

“I’ve got to complete this contract today.”

“Ah, one of the final ones before the hiatus?”

Bentir nods, unsure of what to say next. It didn’t take a great gift for reading people to understand that Bentir was not himself.

“Are you alright?” Damer places his papers on the reception desk, as a gesture that he was available to talk.

“Fine yeah, just feeling a bit off…” Bentir trails off, eyes glazing over.

Damer suddenly clicks his fingers in recognition. “Is this to do with Delt?”

Was it to do with Delt? Partially, Bentir supposed it was a better answer than explaining the far more painful one. “Yes.”

Damer places a reassuring hand on Bentir’s shoulder. “She’ll turn up eventually, I heard Quol went out looking for her.”

Bentir raises his eyebrows, intrigued. “How did you hear that?”

“There isn’t much that happens in this Guild that gets past me.” Damer taps the side of his nose mischievously and Bentir manages a weak laugh.

“Well, I should be getting on.”

Damer nods, patting Bentir’s shoulder kindly. “I’m sure she’ll be back before you are.”

Bentir shoots him an appreciative look, before walking towards the lift and pressing the button on the control panel. The whirring sound of the lift lowering is enough to increase Bentir’s heart rate, the large metal doors slide open and Bentir steps through, turning to face the doors. Damer offers a small wave as the doors close, but Bentir can’t quite bring himself to return it.

Heart racing as the lift climbs to the Butcher’s firm, Bentir steadies himself on the side of the lift, chest heaving with exertion. The doors open once more, and Bentir steps out slowly, surveying his surroundings. The faint sound of meat being chopped floats through, and Bentir curls and uncurls his hands several times. He had to snap into a different Ben, not the friend of Delt, Asta and Quol. Not the teacher at the Academy, not the confidant Guild members relied on. No. He was the assassin with the highest kill count, there was no contract that could possibly faze him, not even this one.

Bentir lifts up his hood, connecting the tabs to his forehead and the back of his neck. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath and opens them, now the instrument of death that anyone with sense would run a mile from. More than a mile.

Bentir treks through the city with ease, generally he preferred executing at night, but some contracts like this one had a short timespan and he couldn’t afford the luxury of choosing the right moment. Although he could have gone last night it didn’t feel right, especially in the wake of Callix’s appointment to Governor and the aftermath of the attack on the Cathedral.

Not quite as quiet as Quol but a close second, Bentir manages to cross streets with ease. If it wasn’t day time he’d have taken his preferred route across the rooftops. A sound of CODER boots forces him to hide behind a statue of Cybrus, he tilts his head round, checking nearby for any signs of life and then moves with incredible speed.

Watching Quol stalk their prey was like watching a serpent, quick, silent, stealthy. Blending in so closely to their surroundings that you would accidentally walk into their open jaws. Bentir on the other hand, it was like watching a tiger waiting for you in the long grass. What he lacked in stealth he made up for in sheer strength, and Delt had even heard that he’d once killed someone by cracking their neck in three seconds, which was incredibly hard to do.

Bentir’s heart does not speed up as he reaches the target’s location. Deeply suppressed is the dread that threatens to rise up in his gut and spew out of his mouth. As he soars into a closed off street, Bentir crouches, regaining his breath and composure before moving on. He looks up, licking his lips and prowling across the cracked black road beneath his feet. Only a few hundred feet from the location Bentir pauses, ears alert for any sound that dared to cross his path.

He’d need to wait until the target was outside. At least, that’s what Bentir told himself. In truth, he probably was skilled enough to reach the target in his home, but it would make for a much easier kill if he wasn’t. Bentir waited over an hour until the target appeared, Bentir watches the target walk out of their residence. Knowing he’d need to lure the target farther away, Bentir steps out and tracks the target’s movements. Bentir knew that if he did this just obviously enough for the target to notice, but subtly enough that he remained hidden, the target would likely divert and reach a more private location.

Unsurprisingly, Bentir had read the situation very well as he shortly entered the Sacred Space. Bentir waits behind a large synthetic tree, of which there were few in Night-Wing. Just as Bentir moves to reveal himself, a familiar voice catches him off guard.

“Void’s sake, you lot can’t keep away can you?”

Bentir grimaces, stepping out from behind the tree to face Kai who is smirking at him. “I heard you had a run-in with us a few days ago.” Bentir utters, and Kai rolls a thin cylinder of paper in his fingers, before tucking it behind his ear.

Tobacco had died out long ago, even before the chemical war, Bentir knew Kai well enough that he’d be smoking some ridiculous flower or herb he believed calmed him down. “I wouldn’t call it a run-in. More like an ambush.” Kai shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his movement fluid, ready to meet Bentir’s attack.

But Bentir doesn’t move, he simply lowers his hood to look directly at Kai. “I wouldn’t know, I didn’t hear much of the details.”

Kai tuts loudly. “Don’t lie now Benny, I think you know quite a lot about what took place.”

Bentir bristles at the sound of the old nickname. “You’re mistaken.”

“Am I? Is that why you followed me here instead of killing me a few streets back?”

Bentir remains silent, fingertips toying with the hilt of his blade.

“Don’t pretend you couldn’t have. I’m touched actually. After all these years, you still want to give me a fighting chance.”

Bentir lifts a shoulder in response. “That’s not why.”

“Ah of course not, killing me in public is a much better idea. I’m sure Q would be proud.”

“Don’t.” Bentir snaps angrily and Kai grins widely.

“Touchy about old names?”

“It’s a courtesy to give you a chance.” Bentir lied, the twang of pain stabbing in his gut.

“Well then old friend, let’s have some fun eh?” Kai bows dramatically, and Bentir moves so fast Kai nearly doesn’t make it, dodging swiftly aside at the last second. “Oof, you’ve certainly improved since I last saw you.”

Bentir once again says nothing, drawing his blade and curving it through the air to land in the middle of Kai’s skull. Kai flicks out what appeared to be a large maroon staff, but Bentir knew very well that it was far more than that. Kai parries the blow with ease, winking at Bentir as he slams himself into his chest, but Bentir doesn’t stagger back.

“Well shit.” Kai mutters looking rather surprised, as Bentir grabs a fistful of his t-shirt and throws him across the graveyard, narrowly missing a tombstone.

“I told you before, your arrogance would be the death of you.” Bentir flicks the blade around his hand, bringing it to a sharp stop by his side.

Winded, Kai picks himself up off the floor, brushing the dirt off his trousers. “Benny, you got dirt everywhere. That’s not very polite is it.”

“No different than usual.” Bentir retorts, earning a laugh from Kai which is ended quickly by Bentir stepping across the tops of the tombstones and flying through the air towards Kai.

Kai runs towards him, ducking low but swiping at his leg with the staff, causing Bentir to tumble to the ground in a heap. Kai brings the staff up high, ready to smash it into Bentir’s sternum, but Bentir kicks Kai in the shin before he can do so.

Kai cries out in pain, unexpected searing pain that radiates up through his leg as Bentir slams into him, throwing him onto his back and locking his hands around Kai’s throat, squeezing hard.

Kai sputters out a laugh, clawing for breath as Bentir presses more of his weight down on his windpipe. Bentir’s hands are shaking as he watches the oxygen begin to slip away from his old friend, and before he can pull back, an arrow soars through the air. Bentir twists, grabbing the arrow with two hands. Seeing an opening, Kai kicks himself up, and locks two arms around Bentir’s neck, squeezing tightly.

Unfortunately, Bentir was stronger than Kai, it didn’t take long for him to bring his arms up and swing them back in full force, his elbow connecting abruptly with Kai’s stomach. Kai lets out a grunt of pain, staggering back as he clutches his chest, wheezing for breath. At the edge of the graveyard stands Faye, bow ready to fire at Bentir’s throat, but Kai holds up a hand stopping her.

“Don’t Faye.” Kai gasps and Faye glares at him.

“He’s going to kill you Kai, do you seriously expect me to just stand here?”

“Yes I do.” Kai snarls, launching himself at Bentir as the two tumble onto the ground, limbs flailing in a rather undignified display.

All thoughts of elegance had seemingly vanished from Bentir’s mind as Kai lands a kick in his groin. Bentir bites down a shout of pain, instead pushing through the nausea to land a punch in Kai’s throat. Kai topples down, and Bentir swipes his blade from the grass, lifting it again to be met by a weak Kai’s attempt to block. Kai manages, just.

Bentir presses a knee to Kai’s free arm, ripping the staff out and throwing it across the graveyard, tip of his blade pointing down at Kai’s throat. Bentir hesitates, trembling at the face that is looking up at him.

“Go on then Benny, you won.” Kai stares up at his friend, no fear in his eyes, merely acceptance at his fate.

Bentir blinks away tears that prick at the corner of his eyes. Faye loads another arrow, aiming directly for Bentir’s throat. Just as she is about to release the arrow, a body slams into hers, tackling her to the ground.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Delt snarls, snatching Faye’s bow out of her hands and Bentir whips up at the sound of her voice.

The two lock eyes, staring at each other in a mixture of surprise and admiration. Bentir returns his gaze to Kai, hearing cursing from Faye aimed directly at Delt. Delt ignores her, loading the bow herself. Faye goes very quiet, watching in disbelief as Delt approaches Kai’s attacker.

Bentir blinks away agony, lifting his blade up. “I’m sorry.” He breathes and Kai smiles at him sadly. A pressure against Bentir’s head stops his movement.

“I can’t let you do that Ben.” She says, arms taught with the strain of the bow.

“Delt-”

“Ben. Put it down.” Delt is shaking, she’d never ordered Bentir to do anything and part of her doubted she’d be able to get through to him.

To Delt’s shock, Bentir releases Kai from his grip, stepping back from his friend before falling to one knee. His hand clutches a nearby tombstone, as he struggles to breathe.

“Fuck.” He rasps, and sheathes his sword.

Bentir and Delt exchange one final look before Bentir sprints off in the direction of HQ, and Delt lowers the bow, watching Bentir disappear from sight.

“Are you just gonna leave me down here or?” Kai shields his eyes from the sunlight, glancing up at Delt.

“Help yourself up idiot.” She crosses the graveyard, handing the bow back to Faye who takes it firmly.

“Why?” Faye demands and Delt shrugs.

“I don’t know.” That wasn’t technically true, Delt had some idea why she’d stopped Bentir, although it seemed like he wouldn’t have gone through with it anyway.

Kai, now on his feet, jogs over, clearing the wall of the graveyard in one bound. He passes Faye, his eyes twinkling at his second, before catching up to Delt who’s already made considerable ground.

“You alright Little God?” He asks breathlessly.

“Don’t call me that.”

“What would you prefer I call you?” Mischief sparks off the question and Delt snorts.

“I don’t care, just not that.”

“What about Lilith? After your deadly axe?”

“It’s not an axe.” Delt snaps, and Kai grins at how easy it is to provoke a reaction.

“I’ll keep thinking then. On a more serious note, are you alright? Don’t you want to go back to HQ and check on things?”

Delt shakes her head defiantly. “No. They lied to me, I don’t want to see them. I also don’t want to be forced to stay underground whilst we wait for murderous lunatics to catch us. They’re sitting ducks there.”

“Do you even know what a duck is?” Kai muses, and Delt kicks him hard in the leg.

“Piss off Kai.”

Kai chuckles lowly. “If you want to stay you’re more than welcome to, I know myself and Merry would love to continue annoying you. But don’t ignore them because of this, it’s not worth losing those three over, believe me.”

“If you’d just tell me what you mean by that, I might listen.”

“I told you this morning, it’s a long story, and one I’m willing to begin sharing. For now, let me say that Ben was the best friend I could have wished for, and despite the unfortunate circumstances, seeing him again brought back a rush of joy. You don’t want to lose him Delt.”

Delt watches the Rifter leader walk in front of her, severity vanishing as he claps a few Rifters on the shoulder who are anxiously awaiting his return. Biting her lower lip, Delt casts a look back in the direction of the Sacred Space, torn between returning home or making a new one of her own.

******

Quol couldn’t find Tanto anywhere. The High Council members were all alarmingly vague when they asked about his location, most saying he’d gone to the Ocliven to meet the new Governor. Quol doubted this, as a strong dissonant, Tanto loathed religion and they knew for a fact he’d always thought Callix was dangerous.

As Quol paces down the next corridor, heading to Lox’s empty office in the hopes that they could find information on Tanto’s whereabouts there, Asta calls after them. “Q!”

Quol turns, guilt wracking through them. They’d been so engrossed in returning that they’d forgotten about Delt, by the time they’d reached HQ in the early hours of the morning, the entrances had all been locked down. Frankly, Quol had been so exhausted there would have been little point in them attempting to locate Delt anyway.

“Asta, what’s wrong?”

Asta catches up to Delt’s side, panting. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Where did you go last night? I thought you were going to bring Delt back.”

“Change of plans.” Quol lowers their voice, “I’ve found out some information about the killers but I need to speak to Tanto. I can’t find him anywhere.”

Asta frowns. “That’s odd… Is that why you’re here? You think Lox knows?”

“Yes, and seeing as you believe Lox to be a traitor it can’t hurt to have a snoop around.”

Asta beams at Quol, grateful for their trust. “Thank you Q, I promise I wouldn’t say it without cause.”

Quol nods, and the two pick the lock on Lox and Reyarth’s office, creeping in and shutting the door behind them. Quol takes a grand total of nineteen seconds to hack into Lox’s system, scanning through files and documents for any sign of Tanto.

Asta pokes the screen at a particular file name. “That one Q, open it.”

Quol sighs, although they did want to see the evidence of betrayal, finding Tanto was currently more important. Neither mattered, as the door swings open loudly.

“Fuck.” Quol whispers under their breath, but feels a wave of relief at the folded arms of Opell.

“What are you two doing in here?”

“We’re, we just, we wanted to…” Asta stammers nervously, she’d never been caught doing anything disrespectful at the Guild.

“I have information on the killers.” Quol deflects tactfully, “I need to speak to Tanto.”

“He’s been out of contact for thirty six hours, and I actually have no idea where he’s gone. Seems the last person he spoke to was Lox, but he’s not giving up any information.” Opell inclines her head towards Quol. “Can I help Quol?”

Quol falters, Opell was likely the second most trust-worthy person after Tanto, and perhaps this was the best shot they had at figuring out what these monsters were.

“Why was Lox the last person to see the Guild Master?” Asta wrings her hands together and Opell’s glance flits to her gesture.

“Is there something wrong with that Asta?” Opell queries, and Asta’s lower lip shakes.

Opell, noticing her anxiety shuts the door, and turns to face Asta patiently. “I, I think Lox is betraying the Guild.” She confesses, Opell’s expression is unreadable but it’s certainly not angry.

“Why do you think that Asta?”

Asta stutters for an answer, but is distracted by the sound of footsteps hammering down the corridor outside. Chaotic shouting erupts from down the hall, and the three Guild members turn their heads to the door. “Let’s go and investigate that, then come down to my lab, the three of us can speak privately.”

Asta and Quol nod, Opell ushering them out of the office first. Asta turns to flick the lock back into place, but Opell pushes her on, explaining that she’ll take care of the lock. Asta sprints to the Reception Desk where a huge crowd of Guild members are bustling about.

Asta could hear the unmistakeable tone of Reyarth, stood shoulder to shoulder with Lox. “What’s going on?” Asta asks no one in particular, but a minim on her right replies.

“They’re exiling Bentir.”

“What?” Quol and Asta’s eyes widen.

“They say he refused to complete his contract.”

Neither Asta nor Quol needs to hear another word, they push their way to the front, looking at the dishevelled form of Bentir who meets both of their eyes.

“You cannot refuse a contract. It is against Guild law.” Lox reprimands Bentir loudly, and Bentir keeps his eyes fixed on Asta and Quol.

“I know. I still refuse.”

Reyarth takes a tentative step forward. “Bentir, we can’t waive punishment. If you disobey you will have to be exiled. Please reconsider, there’s still time to complete it.”

Bentir meets Reyarth’s eyes. “I will not reconsider, and I will not complete the contract.”

At this moment, Emira barges through the crowd, moving to stand in front of Bentir. “This is ridiculous. That contract was issued by Callix out of foolish spite, and there’s no reason for it to be completed. I will not let you exile him.”

Lox takes a step forward and Emira keeps her chin held high. “As our Guild Master is not currently present, leadership defects to me. He will be exiled for refusing to complete the contract. That is my final say.”

Emira steps closer to Lox, pushing a finger into his sternum. “Tanto wouldn’t want this.”

“Our Guild Master wants the rules to be followed, he always has, ever since he founded The Small Gods. No one, I repeat no one, gets to break those without punishment. Now step aside.”

Emira doesn’t move, and Bentir touches her shoulder gratefully. “It’s okay Emira, I’ll accept the cards I’m dealt.”

Emira’s eyes glisten with anguish, and reluctantly she steps aside.

“You can’t.” The words escape Asta’s mouth before she has time to think, Lox wheels around to fix his eyes on her. “Please, don’t exile him. I’ll do the contract, I-”

“You will not take his contract simply because Bentir doesn’t want to. I will not hear another word of this nonsense. Get out.” He bites out the last two words at Bentir, who nods and turns to the lift, stepping inside the doors.

“No don’t! It’s not fair! Please.” Asta runs for the doors but Quol grabs her, holding her back as Asta struggles underneath her grasp. “Q, let me go!”

“Asta, it’s going to be okay.” Quol whispers sorrowfully, knowing full well they would unleash their anger at Lox when the right moment came.

“It’s okay Asta, I’ll see you soon.” Bentir smiles at her, and then looks to Quol. The two exchange a knowing look, and Asta lets out a sob as the doors close on Bentir, collapsing to the floor in Quol’s arms.

Lox orders the crowd to disperse, sneering down at Asta’s sobs as he strides off to his office. Only Asta, Quol, Opell and Emira remain. Emira places a hand on Asta’s shoulder, gently consoling her.

“When Tanto returns, he will handle this. Don’t lose hope Asta, Bentir’s strong, he can take care of himself.”

Asta cannot speak, overcome by anger and misery, all she does is cry into Quol’s chest. And Quol, being the excellent friend that they are, cradles her her head, rocking Asta gently as they felt all of that searing pain with her.