DEMI! (Battle Book)

Ch. 1 Please. Stay for Dinner

   On the grounds of an estate nestled in Serenity, a family prepares for their evening dinner in their home. A woman stood over what seemed to be a simmering pot of tea, while two of her underlings playfully ran in circles around her. An older child sits upon a massive dining table of wood, tracing visions on paper. Beside her the box of pens, brushes, and dyes in all types of vibrant hues stood, assisting her in her masterpiece. "You boys must settle down," said the woman. "Your sister is working quietly, follow her example. Only good boys get to have tea with dinner," she warned waving her index finger.
      As if she had disposed of their favorite toy, the two children whined in agony as they retreat to calmer chaos. 
     As she detaches the simmering pot from the tube-like module hanging from the oven exhaust, the mother is stunned by a loud clunk. "Well, what could that be? Boys! Did you knock something over?!"
The two stared at each other, then her blankly. "No mother," they both said simultaneously. Hmph, must be your father bullying your poor uncle again.
     She continued cooking and moments later, she heard another thud, followed by ruckus.
"HERA'S CUNT!" The father came clamoring up the stairs with his brother. "I'm telling you, Minor, this exactly why I don't do business with them, faulty equipment, bad readings, it's always something!"
     The Woman, not acknowledging him, walked toward the pot and detached it from a faucet coming out of the wall.
"Hmm, dry; that's not right. The siphon is broken honey, just as I was finishing up the tea."
     Frowning at the faucet, she took a sip from the cauldron. "It'll have to do," Said the wife.

Three solid knocks were heard at the door.

"I know, that should be the guy at the door, been having problems all day." The older and much manlier man said.

      As she opened the door, a young man stood there, about 5'9, with curly kinky hair, staring into the distance in amazement at the nature around him.
Wife: "Umm, hello?"
      Noticing the wife had finally opened the door, he quickly snapped to a beaming, closed-eyed smile. "Somebody call a tradesman?" he exclaimed. "Yes please come in," insisted the wife.
     The boy, youthful yet mature, respectfully strode through the door greeting the woman of the house initially, then the other elders.  When he reached the young girl at the great wood table, he paused and took a mental note of the almost finished picture.  An odd look dashed past his face, which quickly morphed into a nervous chuckle. The aroma of the simmering pot suddenly caught his attention. "Is that sou roux!?" He proclaimed eyeing the pot. "Why yes, we were just about to have dinner when the siphon blew, " answered the homemaker.
     "Ah, not a cap to a joyous occasion at all. No worries. I'll take right care of it," the tradesmith assured with a smile. "Show me," he said. His urgency would've been suspicious had the other men not been as urgent as he. "Minor, let's go, " commanded the older gentleman.
     He followed the husband and his brother down a flight of stairs located behind the kitchen area. The stairs lead to a damp tunnel way lined with pipes running overhead. As they walked, the brother of the husband spoke, " this your normal beat? seems odd for a tradesman to patrol this far out."
      "Me?! oh no. I'm from the grand cities. I grew up with my father in a suburb. I mentored under him and his teacher. With all that knowledge, I'm able to have a little more flexibility in my work. It helps that I love what I do." said the young tradesman. They arrive at the end of the corridor at a steel vault.
     "So a traveling fixer?" Asked the husband as they descend the vault.
     "Yes. There are many tragedies of this world. We all have gifts and are placed here to manifest them. I chose to use my gifts to fix things; no matter how gargantuan or minuscule; that can't happen in one place." So," he said approaching the siphon. "I take odd contracts under my mentor and help where I can." He pulls a tool from his oversized bag and removes a panel from the device. "Ahh! Catalyst blew. Too much input. It's fried."
     Hearing a loud thud, he turns in the direction of the two men. "It's still alive?" The tradesman inquired surprisingly.
Major: "Heavily sedated. But even then, it still spasms every once in a while. A knock here; a thud there. Had to overclock it for the thing to even sedate. We were draining it when it blew. Can you fix it or not?"
Tradesman: "Quite the beast in there huh? it'll take a couple hours to recalibrate, but I can get it back up before nightfall, dinner may be late though."
Major: "No worries. Dinner's done. We're actually siphoning the husk to sell. I'm sure you know they're going for a good amount these days. Join us for the trouble. I never caught your name."
     Looking reluctantly at the two, then back at the enclosure the sound had come from, he accepts.
Jai: "There! It'll take about 2 hours to recalibrate, you'll be back in business. It's Jai (Jah-eee)"
Major: Splendid! Let's head back up for dinner then.
     They returned through the corridor and down the passageway, and back to the main house. As they walked back through the passageway, Jai observed the surroundings. The walls were lined in military decorations and husks of exotic beasts. When they returned, the three children were standing in line in front of the big wooden dining table. Behind them, a feast of assorted finger foods. In the center, a savory roast, and around it, chalices of the roast's marinade. Almost as abstract as the roast, a steaming teapot full of sou roux grace the spread.
Wife: Dinner is ready!
     The wife beamed with a pleasant, yet oddly eerie smile, as she commanded them to all sit. As they all sat at the grand wooden table, they began to bow their heads and pray. To not be rude, as they prayed, he closed his eyes and sat at attention until they finished.
Minor: You don't worship?
Tradesmith: Oh no disrespect! Because we serve all beings while performing duties we remain non-prejudiced with the utmost discreetness. Our company seeks not to offend. Even if I practice the same, it would show a favorable bias that's not consistent with our company's model of equal opportunity.