Shredder XX

Until now.

Merinde sighed heavily and straightened up in her chair.  Her spine creaked its own discord, but she paid no mind to the aches and pains which conveyed memories of her past exploits.  Each was a story in itself, but those were tales she did not often revisit.  Too many ghosts.  Too much blood.  She took one more swig of liquor from the mug next to her and set the cup down upside down on the table to an array of gasps.

Seravis sat with tented fingers, slouched in his chair as he gave his opponent the time necessary to understand events as they were unfolding.  Ceremony was something he appreciated with distasteful ease, often playing the part of some pompous ass to gain the favor of one more monied than himself.  Now, a whole new future shined over the horizon.

Merinde pawed a thick hand into her tunic and with a slight jingle of metal, retrieved a ring of keys that were still warm from the beating of her heart.  She set the keyring on the table next to the inverted cup, and as her hand withdrew, the palpable sensation as the crowd turned its focus to the lock turners washed over the combatants.  Even Seravis sat up in his chair.

“Well played, Seravis,” Merinde said in even tones, silence drawing out between them.

“You won’t trick me into error,” Seravis replied, “The game’s not over.”

Merinde smiled at the man, and said, “No, I should say that it’s just beginning.”


Shredder XXI

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