Machiavellianism

[Aiden Finnegan]

Sage resurfaced from his digital high to throw a few more quips at Jaxen. The tone of his voice suggested something more was going on in Sage’s head, but Aiden did not worry about it – at least not in the sense of any sexual tension between Sage and Jaxen. There was some there, to be sure, but Aiden was confident that Sage wasn’t trying to orchestrate a three-way with Jaxen, or worse, an affair. Jaxen… He was an odd one. Aiden liked the man, most of the time, but he didn’t entirely trust him. There was just something about Jaxen Marveet. Had Aiden been drunk and in his early twenties still, he’d probably try to get into the man’s pants; that was not the case.

                Aiden grabbed Sage’s hand and gently squeezed, giggling softly to himself. It was nice to see the fire inside of him. Sage could not Channel, but he could do so much more. Aiden had no doubt that Sage could bring down the Ascendancy and the entire CCD – if he had any interest in toppling world governments. Again, that was not the case, but if it were, Aiden would be hard-pressed to oppose his boyfriend in such an endeavor, no matter how foolhardy or dangerous.

                The wallet in Aiden’s pocket vibrated as Jaxen chimed in. With a flourish, Aiden pulled the thing out and noticed that several news articles from the last decade were waiting on the screen. Each link told well-known stories about the thefts of priceless works of art. Aiden’s eyebrows rose to his hairline as he skimmed the links; he did not need to read any of the articles, he had done so years before. Part of Aiden was impressed, the other annoyed (who the fuck would steal the Mona Lisa?) He – and the rest of the world – had no idea that the thefts were connected.

                Aiden slipped his wallet back into his pocket and gave Jaxen a measuring look.

                “I might base a character off of you in my new novel. You can expect a call from my lawyers to discuss royalties. I won’t use your name, of course,” Aiden said. He was not trying to flatter the other man, but there was just too much about Jaxen that would help tell the story Aiden wanted to weave. Perhaps when they were all retired and grey, Jaxen would allow Aiden to write his biography. Surely the man had a lived a life that people would want to read about – why the heists alone would be enough for half the book.

                Jaxen went on and Aiden’s eyebrows climbed further.

                “The Claidheamh Soluis!?” Aiden exclaimed a little too loudly, “Jaxen, you can’t mean…”

                Goosebumps covered every inch of Aiden’s flesh. The Claidheamh Soluis was one of the Four Sacred Treasures of the Tuatha De Danann; It was known as the Sword of Light in the common era. The other four treasures were The Dagda’s Cauldron, The Spear of Lugh, and The Lia Fail. Always the treasures were relegated to the realm of myth, but so had magic and monsters. Aiden should have connected the dots sooner, especially once Jaxen had brought up the Book of Leinster. Aiden had zoomed in on the lost pages and failed to read between the lines. Then again, that was Jaxen. He could have easily mentioned what the lost pages said, but he didn't - not until now - and that could only mean -

                “Then that-“ Aiden’s vision went black and he fell forward, consiousness escaping his body.

                A tall man, fair of skin and hair, used the Power against a king.

                Flicker.

                The fair man stealing a shining beacon from the king.

                Flicker.

                The fair man, now a king, battling an army with the beacon.

                Flicker.

                The fair man bleeding and dying, a shadowy beast snatching the beacon and flying off into the distance.

                Flicker.

                The fair man dead.

                Aiden’s eyes opened, he laid in a crumpled heap on the floor of the limo. His head pounded harder than any hangover could create. A long, dramatic groan escaped his lips as he pushed up onto his elbows. Without warning, Aiden vomited onto the carpet beneath him.

                What the fuck? He thought to himself.

                Meanwhile, the limo had pulled up to the private hangar located somewhere in the CCD airport.