"Play it cool," Medea advised, taking his hand in hers. Rafael looked at her, managing a tight smile.
"I don't have a choice." Then he exhaled deeply.
The Roth went over and conversed with the sinners for a little while then he came back down, placed an arm on Rafael's shoulder, and sighed,
"You're up." Rafael nodded and got up. One of the four, standing in twos on either side of the Son of Iniquity broke away and led him into another room. There was a long, ornate table, fitted with just one chair to one end and a speech podium stood, facing it. The room had been set up for them.
"Now tell me. Who are you?" The voice was firm.
"Lord Forsythe. A merchant in the weapon trade, by necessity, A sinner by nature."
The sinner's head leaned back a little so he could look down at Rafael, "And your company?"
"The lady is Princess Medea, of the kingdom of Riven Brande." He knew her status would open any door. "There's also my adoptive uncle and my brother."
"Brother? Is he not a sinner?"
"No, he's my uncle's son. I call him my brother." The sinner nodded,
"Why are you here?"
"To do business and find my roots."
"Your roots?"
"I was found, wrapped in sheets that bore the breaking dawn."
"That is no longer our symbol."
"The news reached as far as Riven Brande."
There was a slight pause and the sinner said,
"Welcome home. On the western end of the kingdom lies our dwelling place. Sodom. It is also known as the outer city."
He spread his arms and dark energy flowed out, erecting structures as he spoke. "It encompasses everyone that is a sinner. Within Sodom, there are other tiers.
"The family is the lowest, it is a group of weaker sinners. Then, there are The orders. That is the next level. A family can be promoted to become an order and likewise, an order can fall back to family status. Then the council. That is the highest tier. The councils together form The union.
"The top three councils from the union get promoted to replace the three lowest in the middle city, Nineveh. In the same vein, it continues into the inner city, Babylon, and then, the sacrosanct, Sheol.
"There is no promotion into Sheol and vice versa. That is the dwelling place of the High Council and of course, the Son of Iniquity.
"Promotion or relegation depends mainly on your level of sin and your conversion of others to sinners. As well as power, status, connections and the like.
"There are six levels of sin. The sixth, though, is unattainable. The six of them are divided into two classes, Venial Sin and Mortal Sin. The venial sin branches into the pawns, the sentries, and the sentinels. The mortal sin branches into the sages, the archemages, and the Son of Iniquity.
"To attain higher levels, you have to cultivate your sin in any way possible. There are no rules and only the fittest survive. This," He said, bringing both hands together and collapsing the structures, "Is the S system. Instituted by our leader, to guide us all."
*******************************
After Rafael returned, that sinner conversed with the others, then TSOI stood, the procession making their way out. Once he drew level with Rafael, TSOI turned, focusing those depthless eyes on him. It lasted for seconds, yet seemed eternal. He turned and walked on, out of the castle, through the pathway lined by his men and into a portal.
"You must be important for the Son Of Iniquity and a member of the high council to attend such a frivolity."
Rafael frowned at the sound, "It seems so."
The Roth took a long drag from his goblet and sighed, "Wines always help when you want to forget." He walked away, his men attending to him as he made his way out.
Rafael looked on after him. There was something about this man...
******************************
That night they all gathered in Rafael's quarters and he filled them in on the details.
"We move to Sodom tomorrow. However, we all have to be sinners."
"Good thing I brought more regalia along. Though they'd need some adjusting to fit anyone other than you Rafael."
"Good, get started on that. I'll say I converted all of you after the ball."
Mycroft collapsed on the bed, "That's great. Now we're all going to get stiff-jointed like Rafael."
"It's quite flexible," He defended, flexing his arm. "So you don't have to be worried." He looked around, "Medea? You've been quiet all along? Got anything on your mind?" She exhaled deeply,
"Nothing really," She paused, looking at all of their faces illustrated by candlelight. "It's just, we're finally here. The plan is in motion, this is the moment we'd all been waiting for right? Rafael, you even more. Let's do what we have to do. That's why we're here."
"Spoken like a true princess," Mycroft announced, getting to his feet with a smile. "You could pick up a lesson or two on speeches there, Lord Forsythe..." He bowed. Fairchild chuckled.
"Now's not the time Mycroft."
Rafael smiled.
"While listening to the lecture on the system I came up with a plan. Considering your status Medea, they'll grant us the freedom to choose any family, within Sodom.
"Even so, we'll go for the runts. Of course, it's going to be tougher," He continued, pointing towards Mycroft whose hand was raised.
"Nevertheless, it would be much easier to gain their trust, loyalty, attention, and, the most important part. It'd be much easier to shape them into what we're looking for." He smiled at Mycroft's receding arm and continued.
"From then on, its continuous progress. We aren't settling for just retention, we're aiming for constant promotion after each cycle. For the tiers, it's a cycle of three months. Promotion from a council happens in a cycle of six months. This way we can garner enough momentum, very quickly to wreck the system from within before any of us can slip up."
*************************************
Later that night, Rafael opened up one of the trunks that lay at the foot of his bed, within lay a blade. Long and slim, curved and deadly. He held it up to the candlelight and its hilt bore the insignia, of a now-lost civilization. The cross.