His handler huh? No. Not worth it. If he's going to be that hard to track down just to talk to him, it's not worth it. However, Ascot here is practicall begin to be a new member. Well maybe not that , but if I help train him... He could be quite a useful fighter for us to have around. He's already a talented kid. He could be our newest, and maybe someday our most powerful fighter. With exception to myself of course, I haven't told anyone yet, but I'm going to be representing the U.s. In eskrima next year at the Olympics. Maybe I should tell Ascot. He seams trustworthy. Ya. Hell, not even Silas knows. I love the guy, but he can't keep a secret for te life of him.
"Thanks Mr. Heinz, but no, if he wants to contact me he will. This life isn't for everyone. I look forward to working for you again. Actually, Mr. Heinz, I'd like to talk to you about something if you could do lunch around noon. The restaurant is called 'The Conisuer.' It's a five star, the only place I go if I truly want to privately discuss business."
Another thing unknown about Conor: he was rich. Very rich. The man who adopted him left a considereae trust fund for when he turned eighteen. The trust was actually revealed to him by Heinz. He had an excess of One Hundred Twenty Million dollars in his account. He didn't use it for much though. He had a nice, one person appartment. Nothing too flashy, didn't have or want a car, and he had his clothes, designer, we're the only thing that remotely gave away his wealth. But his friends didn't care, they came from different backgrounds, and they figured Heinz had supplied them.
As Conor walked away, Ascot asked the question he'd been hoping to hear. He wanted help fighting. Eskrima, specifically.
"Absolutely, my boy! If you're up to it, we can go right now! Not going to lie, I was hoping you'd say that. We need a few strong new mages for our guild. That is, of course, only if you're willing to join. I don't know what your opinion of us is, but we're all nice people. We're a little odd I'll grant, but we're a family, and there aren't any bad apples among us. We either convert them to honest people, or we kick 'em out. I think you'd fit right in. " Conor earnestly smiled at the young teen. He had hopes for him. And for himself.