Sins of the Forefathers: A LitRPG Fantasy Isekai

I didn’t know anyone named Rhiannon. And I had definitely never met this woman in my life, no matter what she said.

I would have remembered her.

If this woman wasn’t associated with the nobility in some way, I would eat my mask. She was gorgeous, in a dangerous kind of way. Impeccably dressed in silks and furs suited to the frozen, snow-covered streets, she was wearing a deep black and red gown that stood out quite a bit in the shabby confines of Jason’s shop. Long, pitch-black hair fell around her sharp, pale features in curls and ringlets. They framed her burgundy eyes, watching me with a patient amusement in the moments after she spoke.

She knew that she’d caught me off guard.

Was this woman with SED? Had I been made by a Loyalist spy?

Nobody in the Nocturne division had had any run-ins, combative or otherwise, with anyone in our counterparts among the Loyalists. This was despite the fact that we’d been running all up and down these streets on our missions. You would think we’d get some kind of pushback from the group that was meant to rival us, but no. The assault on the safe house outside of the city was supposed to have been from them, according to Dusk. But nobody in the Division had seen hide or hair of anyone in SED.

There had been some uneasy rumblings among the ground forces at this silence.

Was this the start of their counterattack? Was I their first target?

But…why approach me in this manner, if she was here for my head? The woman, this…‘Rhiannon’, hadn’t made an antagonistic move once since I’d entered the shop.

What the hell was this?

Time sped up, my overactive brain having slowed my perception from the adrenaline pumping through my veins.

Only moments had passed since she had spoken.

I laughed as convincingly as I could, fully stepping into the shop. “It’s been a long time,” I said, doing my best to smile at the woman. My eyes flickered up to meet Jason’s, who hadn’t noticed a thing wrong. I couldn't involve him in this. “Jason, do you mind if…Rhiannon and I catch up in the back room? I’ll get started on the potions when we’re done. I’m…” I paused for only a heartbeat. “Sure it won’t take long.”

One way, or the other.

Jason smiled at me obliviously. “S-sure, Hans! I don’t mind. And don’t worry about the b-brewing. We’ve still got q-quite the backlog to run through.” Having said that, he slid the key to the backroom of the shop across the counter to me.

Palming it, I turned back to face the woman, my friendly façade falling away. Eyeing the woman flatly for a moment, I jerked my head in a motion towards the door in the back, but didn’t move yet.

I didn’t want this woman behind me.

She took the hint, sliding off of her chair languidly to her full height. I know it shouldn’t bother me, but I was slightly disturbed to see that she was taller than I was. You didn’t often see human women that were over six feet tall like her.

“Thank you, Jason,” She said to the shopkeep kindly, who blushed at her regard. “Like Hans said…we won’t be long.” At that, she sauntered off to wait patiently for me in front of the door, while Jason tried to stutter out an answer. He didn’t manage it before she left his sight, causing him to slump slightly in place.

I patted him on the shoulder as I passed, keeping my eyes locked with ‘Rhiannon’ as I approached her. Making sure my posture was slightly facing hers to try and minimize the risk, I cautiously unlocked the door. The strange woman slipped inside once the door had been opened, throwing me a smirk over her shoulder as she did. I stoically stepped in after her, making sure to close the door.

I locked it behind me.

Inside, ‘Rhiannon’ was bent over, inspecting the crates of ingredients that Jason had stocked here in the backrooms. She tsked. “Such poor materials to work with, ‘Hans’,” She said, almost teasingly. She stood up, shaking her head. “However do you make do…?” She trailed off, growing unnaturally still.

Because I had a dagger at her throat.

While she had been examining the boxes, I had slipped up behind her, drawing one of the concealed weapons I had on my person. The blue-black of my Oninite dagger glinted dangerously in the dim morning light streaming in through the back window.

I leaned up towards her ear. “Who are you?” I hissed. “What are you doing here?”

The life returned to Rhianon’s body, her muscles untensing now that she knew I wasn’t going to immediately slit her throat. Still, she didn’t test me by trying to get away.

I’m not sure what I would have done.

Instead, she surprised me.

She trailed one long, manicured finger along the length of the blade at her throat. She made an interested noise when she was finished. “Oninite,” She said in wonder. “My my, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a blade forged entirely from it. The metal is so notoriously difficult to work with. Wherever did you get it? Is it, perhaps, something of your own creation…Mr. Hart?”

I shook off the bafflement I’d felt at her fingering the dagger nearly pricking her carotid artery, and tensed up when she used my name.

She definitely knew my name.

I brought the dagger close enough to touch her skin. “Answer the question!” I barked, being careful not to let Jason hear us.

“There’s no need for this, Mr. Hart,” She said calmly. “I promise you, I’m not here to report you to the authorities. Instead, I’m here to thank you.”

“What?” I said in a baffled tone, momentarily letting my guard down in confusion.

That was all she needed.

Faster than I could react, in a way that I hadn’t experienced in months and months, ‘Rhiannon’ turned the tables on me. She slipped out of my arms, stealing my own dagger from my hands and sliding behind me. Before I knew what was even happening, I felt the very weapon I had forged with Aetherial Melding resting on my own throat.

I froze, not daring to turn my head. The woman leaned in to my ear, close enough that I could feel her breath on it.

I shuddered, my heart thundering in my chest.

“There…” She whispered in my ear. “Not so pleasant, now is it?” Abruptly, the blade withdrew, and I was shoved forward lightly. I stumbled forward from the unexpected blow, finding my feet moments later. I spun to face her, only to find the woman not even looking at me anymore.

Instead, she was contemplating my blade.

“Do you know,” She said suddenly, twisting the blade back and forth. “Where the name for this metal comes from? It’s from Kawamara. There’s a particular breed of Monster that spawns in that archipelago known as the Oni. They’re a tricky sort, the Oni, a true study in contrasts. When they’re young and weak, the Oni stalk the rice fields as little more than bothersome Goblinoid creatures. They ambush particularly unwary laborers and drag them into the shadows so they can feast on their blood and Aether, leaving behind little but dried-out husks. A nuisance to be sure, but only really a threat to the young and elderly. Now, when they’re older, and have their own semblance of intelligence? Then, they truly become a force to be reckoned with.”

I stayed silent as the odd woman lectured me about the metal of my dagger, of all things.

She flipped the blade until the point was balanced upon the tip of her finger. “At that point, they gain a staggeringly powerful control of lightning and thunder. Fulminokinesis, if you will,” She chuckled, slyly meeting my eyes. There was an intense look in her own. “It’s a near national emergency when that happens. There are dedicated Oni hunting squads that make sure this never come to pass. Once mature, though, they rage across the islands, striking everything within their sight and veritably gorging themselves on the Aether of the innocent. Oni, you see, are one of the rare few types of monster that automatically evolve into a Prime once powerful enough. They’re not bred for it. They’re born destined to power. How…curious, that you should have a weapon of this metal. I wonder, Mr. Hart. Are you an Oni, destined for greatness?”

I shook off the spell that this woman’s speech had put me under. I took a step forward and repeated my earlier question. “Lady, who are you? What are you doing here?”

‘Rhiannon’ smiled slyly at me, flipping the blade of my dagger once more. This time, the hilt was pointed in my direction. “Why, I’m the thunder to your shadow, Mr. Hart. Or rather, the Thunderheart.”

Wait, what?

She tittered at the gobsmacked expression on my face, before grabbing the hem of her dress and curtseying in a sweeping manner. “I, am Rhiannon of Clan Calonawr, daughter of Archmage Daffyd.”

Daffyd? Wasn’t that the name of Gruffyd’s brother, back in Tŵr Gronn?

That would make her…

“You’re Bleddyn’s cousin?!” I blurted out in astonishment, accepting my dagger back with a limp hand. As I slipped it back into its hidden sheath, the woman straightened up and covered her mouth with one gloved hand. She tittered at me once more, nodding.

“I am indeed,” Rhiannon said playfully, a sly expression on her face. “I came here to thank you, for your service in freeing my foolish cousin.”

I looked around for a moment, as if I would find answers to the obvious questions plaguing me. “How do you even know about me? About that, even?” I paused, something else occurring to me. “How the hell did you find me?!”

Rhiannon lowered her hand, allowing me to see the amused smile on her crimson-painted lips. She inclined her head meaningfully at the nearby rickety table in this room, before gracefully sitting in an open chair. I…took the hint and sat down with her.

But I didn’t fully let down my guard. If this woman really was from the Thunderheart Clan, then she was supposedly an ally.

I didn’t have any way to verify her identity, though.

Rhiannon must have noticed my wariness, but didn’t let it stop her speaking. “To answer your questions in order, my father keeps a line of communication open with me, here in the big city,” She said easily. “As the Clan Archmage, he has access to his own methods of contact. Last week, he used those to inform me that dear Bleddyn was still alive, somewhere in the Principality. And leading a slave revolt, of all things! Shockingly different, for the man. I was beginning to think my cousin had no more ambition in him than inheriting the Clan. How glad I am, to see I was wrong.”

“And…” I said slowly, starting to see where this was going. “Daffyd must have told you about me, at the time.”

Rhiannon inclined her head. “Just so. He also informed me of how you were on some sort of mission for the Order of the Eclipsed Dawn. Not long after that, a very obvious campaign of destabilization began here in Elderwyck, a notable center of Loyalist power. It truly wasn’t difficult to put the pieces together from that, Mr. Hart. After that, all I needed to do was look around for a man matching the description my father sent me. I wished to convey my gratitude, you see.”

Something about her explanation didn’t sit right with me, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what. It all sounded very plausible, I had to acknowledge.

Still…

“That’s a lot of effort to go through, just to thank me,” I frowned at her.

“It is my way, Mr. Hart,” She said, smiling enigmatically at me.

I frowned harder.

Rhiannon rolled her eyes and heaved a dramatic, put-upon sigh at my expression. “Oh, must you ruin my fun?” She groused. Shaking her head, she leaned forward. “The truth, then. I’m here because I want to assist you, you see.”

“Assist me,” I said flatly. “Is that so.”

A surprisingly excited smile stole across the woman’s impeccably primped face. “Just so, Mr. Hart. Just so. You see, I happen to be a lady of some influence in Duke Olsen’s court. I imagine it would be quite a coup for your forces if you gained an informant of my caliber, so close to the Duke’s center of influence. Why, I could even get you into the palace itself, if so needed!”

Uh-huh.

I see.

I think I was beginning to see what was going on here. This wasn’t the plot of some tricky SED agent here to take me out.

This was some noble lady that I had tenuous ties to trying to inject a bit of color into her dour life. I stood up from the table, my nerves more than settled by now. I smiled neutrally at the woman. “Thank you for your offer, Ms. Rhiannon,” I said, probably more politely than she deserved. “I’ll be sure to convey it to my superiors with all the respect it deserves.”

That is, little.

“In the meantime, I ask that you maintain secrecy about any possible operation you may or may not believe is underway. If you’ll excuse me, I have work to be getting to. I’ll see you out,” I said, gesturing towards the door.

Rhiannon slowly got to her feet, studying my face thoughtfully. “You don’t believe I can be of any help, do you,” She said, tapping one perfect finger against her lips. She stopped after a moment, pointing that finger at me. “I understand. I’d be wary too, in hindsight.” She said, walking towards the door and opening it. Before she left, however, she turned and winked one burgundy eye at me. “I’ll prove my worth to you, Mr. Spy. I know just the thing to change your mind. I’ll be seeing you again before long. I promise you that.” With those parting words, the woman slipped out the door, closing it behind her. Seconds later, I heard her say something in parting to Jason, and then the front door open and close.

I sighed, dragging an exhausted hand down my face.

Bleddyn, you never told me about how tiring your cousin could be.

Maybe that’s why, come to think of it.