Prelude to Chaos: Part I — Blood in the Gutter

The heavy wooden doors of the Mythical Archives groaned shut, sealing the secrets of the Goddess and the Jester back into the dark as the group convened outside to decide on the best course of action. The air was thick with an unspoken tension as the revelation of Vanessa’s lineage hung over the party like a guillotine blade, ready to drop at any moment.

"We cannot be seen together like this," Arachna stated, her voice returning to its usual clinical tone, scything through the tension like a hot knife through butter, commanding the attention of the party.

"Agreed" Silver grunted, placing a steady hand on Vanessa’s shoulder with a protective, possessive weight. "I'm taking Ms. Goddess over here to my office. After all, it's the only place with wards strong enough to keep prying eyes out and her safe. I won’t leave her side for a single second."

"That was smooth Silver, way too smooth for a brute like you!!” Aureli joked but no one laughed, causing him to clear his throat “And us?" he asked, glancing at Arachna.

"We have a library to raid," Arachna replied, adjusting her gloves and tightening her sword’s leather wrapped around her torso. "If Roman Valentino left clues in the Archives, he likely left more in your family’s private collection."

As the others continued to discuss their plans, Ezekiel stood apart from them, his gaze lost and distant. In his mind’s eye he could still see the painting of the crying Jester, still feel the phantom tears on his own cheeks, a feeling splitting him into two.

"I have business to take care of, you guys go on ahead.." Ezekiel lied smoothly. "I need to... clear my head before the festivities begin."

The group nodded, noting the fragility of the obvious and flimsy lie. An unspoken agreement over leaving him to his own devices occurred between them as they ascended back up from the belly towards the head of the Academy, parting ways at the crossroads.

Silver and Vanessa headed for his office in the Greenhouse, Arachna and Aureli turned toward the noble estates whilst Ezekiel walked alone into the night, heading for the filth of the slums which gave him an odd sense of belonging.

The deeper Ezekiel descended, the colder it got, the night air chilling to the bone. The Slums were a festering wound beneath the glittering city where there were no floating lanterns or magical fireworks, but only mud, sickness, and the putrid smell of desperation, utterly disgusting in its scope, like pus oozing out of an infected wound.

Ezekiel pulled his collar up as he slowly marched through the area, his noble features hidden by the shadows until he reached a broken fountain, its water stagnant and green with algae. 

A woman sat there by the edge, wrapped in tattered rags and shivering in the cold, rocking back and forth in a frenzied fashion, trying to lull the baby in her arms to no avail. It was the same woman he had met earlier in the day on the way towards the Academy, sporting a thin, forlorn, gaunt face, and yet her eyes were sharp. She clenched her jaw and looked around frantically, high on a mix of toxic chemical stimulants that kept her awake for days on end, without food, without water and without emotion.

"Sorry I’m late," Ezekiel whispered, not looking up.

“Did you bring what I need? I did good right? Come on, tell me you have it with you!” Elara begged as Ezekiel threw a packet of white crystals on the floor in front of her.

"You wretched oaf. I loathe your indulgence of this substance in the presence of an infant." Ezekiel replied, reaching into his coat to retrieve a heavy pouch of coins which he dropped into her lap. "For the child."

Elara grabbed the pouch, her fingers bony and trembling, her movements erratic as she continued to grind her jaw. Ezekiel pitied her, feeling as if she would wear down her rotten teeth until only her gums were left. The intermittent wagging of her tongue and spitting on the floor filled him with disgust as he watched her battle with her addiction. As she retrieved a glass pipe from her pocket, she looked at him, and then, really looked at him. "He has your eyes, you know. Grey. Empty."

Ezekiel flinched. "Does he eat?"

"He eats better than I do," Elara spat. "The Church has been sniffing around and I’ve seen Pope Vincent's monks more and more down here recently... they are looking for 'irregularities' in the bloodlines. If they find out a noble fathered a bastard with a beggar..."

"They won't," Ezekiel said, his voice dropping an octave. "Because you are invisible, Elara. A reject of society, forsaken by God and destiny itself. That is why I chose you. You are a tool, beginning to rust. Be careful not to lose your luster, lest you be thrown away."

"Is that all I am?" She sneered, a bitter, broken sound as she coughed from the lack of food in her system. "A hiding place for your sins?"

Ezekiel stared at the stagnant water as he heard the question, a strange sensation bubbling in his chest at the moment, but not of guilt, but rather... amusement!

How ridiculous, a voice whispered in his head, curling around his mind like a python. The noble instructor, the protector of innocence, the idol of his students, the role model... hiding his own flesh and blood in the mud. Hypocrite. Reject. Failure. Bastard! But no one knows… heh...

A manic grin tugged at the corner of Ezekiel’s mouth, his eyes covered in shadows.

"We are all hiding places, Elara," he giggled psychotically. The sound was wrong, like nails grinding on a chalkboard. "The Queen hides behind her walls, the Pope behind his god, and as for me... well... I hide behind a mask of sanity. ”

Elara recoiled in terror, clutching the baby tighter. Even as the toxins robbed her of emotions, a feeling of unease spiked through her, like staring down a predator in the wild, certain of imminent death

"You're doing it again..Stop it! Get away from me!"

Ezekiel blinked, snapping out of the trance and the grin vanished, the mask slamming back into place

"I need to know what Vincent is planning, Keep your ears open." he commanded, turning away

"Go to hell" Elara whispered, tucking the coins into her rags.