Deliverance from madness

'Has my hair gotten longer in this past week?' Lumière stared in the mirror, a little puzzled. 'I don't have time to cut it, so maybe I should resort to tying it back for now.'

Lumière searched through countless drawers before he stumbled upon a spool of twine.

'I've no fancy laces or headbands. This is how I've always done it...' Lumière sighed inwardly. Cutting away a strand of twine, he pulled the excess hair behind his head before tying it away in a small strand. He let out a sigh of relief, no longer having to deal with the excess stimulation as he moved forward with his day.

After getting dressed, Lumière stepped out of the monastery. Sister Alinde and Father Benedict were out by the hillside, but Lumière turned his head away from them. Even after talking with Sister Alinde the night before, his head felt like a mess, so he wanted to clean up the fog in his mind before anything strange happened again.

'Those visions... I don't know if I've really gone crazy this time. Why? What is the meaning of 'Murderer?', and why does it keep showing up?'

As Lumière got lost in his thoughts, he had been walking down further into Cobbler's street, which curved along the outside of the stacked housing district, Etten-Leur. It was filled with every essence of bitterness left behind from the middle and high boroughs, and even in the rot of the lower borough, it was a street not many chose to walk. Dwindlers, as they had been deemed, were not just those without homes. They were those who had been disavowed completely by the Forger Empire.

Their children, their children's children, and all relatives that would follow would be forced into that pitiful life; it was a life of meandering mindlessly in the cold rain. If one fell into debt or committed a crime that was not punishable by death or lengthy imprisonment, this was all they could look forward to. By law, unless they were able to pay off the debts they owed, they would be forced to live the life of a Dwindler. They could never be allowed to take work on themself that would allow them to sustain a normal and healthy life. If they grew ill, they would be thrown into the quarantine zone in the outstretches of the lower borough. If they were hungry, they could only seek help from the churches or turn to crime. Above all, they were not allowed to rent or purchase homes, not that they could afford it anyway. No landowner would want to take in someone with such a history.

So, they would wander. They would take work where they could, whether in the dockyards or the factory district, risking their lives and bodies for next to nothing. The Dwindlers who received food from the churches regularly would choose to save that money as a way to foster hope for their futures, but the unlucky few would have to spend every coin earned to sustain a pittance of a meal every couple of days. Even if they tried to save money, some would fall into despair, seeking the pleasure of the women of the night, be frugal in their drinking habits, or gamble it all away in hope of a future. Unfortunately for the Dwindlers, that existence wasn't their worst fear.

A few years prior, Lumière had witnessed the remnant horrors of the latest war with the neighbouring Eastern continent, Baruunlan. What could have been a more menial job than that of a soldier? As such, all Dwindlers fit to fight did. If they were male, and of a somewhat-acceptable age, they would have been given a weapon and forced into the zone that split the continents in two; it was a horrific sight, of grass that would never grow, and soil stained a permanent red. When the rain fell, of which it did each day, that mud would turn into a horrific sea of blood, which soldiers were forced to wade through- or add to.

It wasn't a choice, either. Conscription hit the lower borough the hardest. There was an option to pay your way out of it, as funding would help the war efforts. But if you weren't so lucky as to have enough money, then you could only pray to whichever deity you believed in that the sights you would witness weren't as horrific as to scar you. Thankfully, as a ward of the Church of the Mother of Thorns, which served the general well-being of the public, Lumière was able to avoid conscription, the same as Father Benedict had.

But as someone who didn't attend to the horror of warfare, his fresh eyes full of sanity witnessed the gaze of those without it. Dwindlers were sitting on the sidelines of Cobbler's street, under stone buildings which seemed to crumble further with every second. Grime and filth had stained the ground, and still, they chose to sit in it. Fires burned upon piles of rubbish and reclaimed pallet wood, giving some sense of freedom from the cold air.

Although, as Lumière walked through the stinking streets, he noticed one man walking parallel to him. He had a seemingly grizzled face underneath the hood of his black cloak, and blood-red eyes which peered fiercely from the shade. His mouth, which was barely illuminated by the emerging ruby sun, seemed to be muttering incessantly.

'Is that the rat man...? I wonder where he's been all this time. If he's going this direction, he must be heading to the church."

As the man past him, Lumière's gaze darted wildly towards him as his expression grew surprised. That was because he began to hear what it was that the man was murmuring. He was constantly repeating a single word- 'murderer'.

"Excuse me!" Lumière called out as he turned towards the man, spinning his body around suddenly.

The rat man stopped in his tracks, his head turning towards Lumière as he waited for him to continue. Lumière cleared his throat before speaking once more.

"When you say 'murderer', what is it exactly that you mean?"

The rat man stepped a bit closer to Lumière, and although he felt a bit uncomfortable in front of the towering presence, he stood firm as he looked upwards. The rat man's muttering mouth seemed to curve upwards suddenly, revealing a crude and wide smile that bared every single one of his teeth. His blood-red gaze grew fiercer and seemed to glow an incandescent bright colour as he parted his lips to speak.

"You."

After speaking a single word, and leaving a horrified expression on Lumière's face, the rat man turned his back and began to walk down Cobbler's street once more. While his vision didn't darken, Lumière's heart palpitated fiercely, and his skin grew cold and clammy as if he was experiencing a fever. His hair seemed to prick up, and he felt chills run down each of his bones in unison. He watched the man walk down towards the church while thoughts raced through his mind at high speeds.

'Me? I'm the murderer? It was just like that old man... Aineth Carthel said. Why am I a murderer to them? Has someone spread some rumour about me?'

Multiple possibilities began to race through Lumière's head, but before he began to discount any of them, he quickly shook away the thought.

'It's no use worrying about it right now. I haven't come here to think about it anyway.'

Before long, Lumière came to a dilapidated building made of stone bricks that was lit up by exterior lamplight. The windows had been boarded up and the front door was guarded by two men with thick black beards and gleaming blue eyes.

'Twins?' Lumière pondered as he stood before the two men, the tail of his coat fluttering slightly in the morning wind.

"Good morning, gentlemen."

The two men looked towards Lumière in unison with steeled, solemn gazes that seemed to pierce through the entirety of his being. Slowly, their hands began to reach towards the back of their waistbands, and Lumière apprehensively took a step back.

"That's not something you'd want to do." A voice sounded out suddenly.

Lumière's gaze unconsciously shifted upwards and to the right, where a figure with cloud-white hair and bright-yellow eyes hidden behind a silver monocle held a gentle yet characteristically nervous smile- as if his heart couldn't bear to speak so loudly. He had pale white skin, but thick black tattooed markings underneath his eyes.

"He's a guest and close friend of the boss. He's always welcome past those doors, gentleman." The man smiled nervously.

He was the left-hand of the crime boss Constantine- the 'Fox of the Steel Wastes', Adonis Trinder.

"Thank you, Mr. Trinder." Lumière smiled in response.

Adonis nodded silently.

"Is Mr. Adler in?"

Shifting his posture to sit atop his foot, Adonis shook his head.

"Mr. Adler and..." Adonis paused as his face brightened up slightly- as if something embarrassing had crossed his mind. "...and the right hand have gone out. Urgent business, he said."

'On the mere thought of his name? How deep has Eamon burrowed his way into the Steel Fox's heart?' Lumière let out a silent sigh as he chuckled inwardly. 'This man used to be feared as a silent killer, but now he's submissive to a fool. Is love so strong that it would pacify a deadly calamity?'

"I'm here to see Ms. Morelli. Will that pose any issues for you, Mr. Trinder?"

Adonis shook his head once more without saying a single word, so Lumière nodded in confirmation and averted his gaze. To talk so much with the Fox of the Steel Wastes was an anxious event, even if he seemed so calm and simple on the surface. Lumière looked back towards the two similarly-looking men guarding the door, who had by then drawn away their hands from the concealed weapons behind their waists, and stepped aside to allow him to pass.

When Lumière passed through the shoddy door, he wasn't greeted by the sight of endless luxury. Constantine's home of operations wasn't filled with endless wealth, rather its opposite. What he made from his endeavours was split up between those underneath him, and the remains were often given out to the Dwindlers of Cobbler's Street. That is why Lumière often revered him as the 'sun' that Father Benedict would speak of. That is why Constantine Adler had become one of Lumière's most beloved friends.

There were dozens of members of the Blackfeather Group darting about, either carrying around heavy boxes of some sort of cargo or conversing, drinking and gambling atop large circular wooden tables that looked as if they would snap apart if one were to slam their fists downwards. Lit up by lamplight, it looked more like a tavern than a base of criminal operations. However, it somewhat delighted Lumière every time he saw it because it looked as if it was Constantine's heart splashed onto a surface- the picture-perfect representation of who he was. There was fun in having a home, even in the face of crime.

Constantine Adler was a 'man of the people', and so the 'crimes' that the Blackfeather Group would commit were sure not to implicate or harm those of the lower borough. This often included the distribution of illegal spirits and alcohol, counterfeiting and laundering of bank notes, and general fraud. As long as the wealth came from a source of abundance, Constantine paid it no mind. That was why everyone on Cobbler's Street overlooked their operations, and why the church paid him no attention at all. It was most of all why Lumière adored him so much. In a world where Lumière couldn't think to change so much, Constantine had made a constant effort to do at least a bit, and so he was the model by which Lumière wished to mould himself, like a greater man he could aspire to be.

On his right, there was a metal automaton that seemed almost human. His exterior had been painted a dark brown colour, and he had been dressed in fanciful servant's attire. If it weren't for the seams on his skin, or the obvious bolts holding metal plates together, Lumière would have thought him human. They were mostly conscious, although they had been built specifically for servile use, and so they didn't initiate idle conversation unless specifically spoken to. So, Lumière ignored the metal creature.

With a sigh, he passed the automaton. He was quite wary of them. Lumière took a right through an open doorway, failing to knock as he walked in. He then sat down carelessly on a bright red sofa which faced an ornate wooden desk illuminated by flickering lamplight. Behind the desk sat a woman with light pink hair tied behind her head, with locks that fell past her ears. Her eyes were like blossoms and held a sense of mature sultry humour that tried to mask the dead and soulless nature of her gaze. She wore a soft-coloured black dress that flowed down towards her ankles and a brown knit shawl that was draped over her shoulders.

Slowly, she turned around to face Lumière with a look of both fascinated annoyance and some sort of astute pleasure.

"Good morning, Lumière." The woman smiled softly.

"Good morning, Callie."

Calista Morelli was the physician who oversaw the safety of the operations of the Blackfeather Group. Constantine Adler had carefully poached her from a medical program at the National University of Leiden. She had been promised high pay, and Lumière was privy to the knowledge that a large sum of the Group's funds went to her every month. In Lumière's eyes, from an outsider's perspective, she seemed both a leech and a necessity.

Calista immediately got straight to business.

"Why are you here, Lumière?" Calista smiled genially, the corners of her eyes narrowing as she focused in on him as if eyeing every part of his body. "Nothing seems particularly wrong with you, although I suppose you could be a bit taller... more fit... a nicer face perhaps?"

Lumière scoffed, meeting the woman's bright pink gaze as he looked over her in response. Although, even if he wanted to, there was really nothing he could say to hurt her. For whatever man could afford a leech-like her, he would surely gain a beautiful bride in turn. Lumière was also quite sure that Calista was aware of her sour personality, which is why she chose to cover it up with a mask of humour.

"I've felt a bit... off recently," Lumière said, skipping straight to the point.

"Sexually?" She teased. "Is that nun not enough for you? I suppose you're still young, so you'd want to explore what the world has to offer. Then, should we do it here?"

Lumière shook his head in response.

"It's not like that between me and the sister. And despite your kind offer, I could never bother to accept it." He retorted.

"Ah, I see. You must be lacking in experience. You're a bit scared to feel what the beauty of the world is like."

"I think I can source that elsewhere. I've no need for you."

"I think you do, otherwise why would you come here? There's surely something you would need from me. I don't think you would pay a soulless woman like me a visit for no reason. When you say that you've been 'feeling off'- if not like that, then how?"

"That's not quite what I meant... I've been seeing and hearing things, and my head has often felt like a mess."

"You know I don't deal in matters of the mind," Calista spoke tersely. "When one of Adler's men gets shot in the chest, I sew them up or I put them in a bag. That's all I can manage, Lumière."

"I know you have some knowledge in that big head of yours." Lumière smiled softly, leaning forward to hug his knees as he curled up atop the chair. He rested his chin on his knees as he looked forward towards the blossom woman.

"Then try telling me, although I can't promise anything." Calista sighed as she rested her head on her hand.

For a long time, until the sun hit the midpoint in the sky, and gradually began to set, Lumière recounted his various experiences over the last week, and how he had seen intense horrors and shadows, and fainted on nearly every occasion.

"You said it all started with this 'rat man'?" Calista asked with a serious expression on her face. "When was the last time you saw him? What did he look like?"

"I saw him on my way here, actually... he looked just about the same, although this time, I could see this thin aura around him, almost like I was hallucinating a shadow that lined the entirety of his form..."

Calista's eyes widened as she shot forward in her seat.

"Lumière, return home immediately. If everything seems off, don't step inside the building. Just come back here immediately, and I'll have Adler figure something out." Calista spoke seriously, her gaze having tensed up along with her body. "Well, I would come alongside you, but I'm really quite selfish when it comes to my own safety."

"What the hell are you talking about all of a sudden?"

She met Lumière's gaze in an instant, her eyes that were once dull growing filled with a fearful pained emotion.

"Lumière, your nun and priest are probably in serious danger."