The Empire is rotten.
It was now nothing but a shell of what it once was. What was once a beacon of peace and prosperity, one created under God's light became nothing more but a means to an end. A really disappointing end to a dream.
But one that shall leave a glorious legacy for any man that could save it.
After such a thought, Damien snapped his eyes up to the door before him. Guards standing by its side, glancing in his direction. Dressed in black and gold coats, they stood still, like shadows, guarding, watching his every move, inspecting Damien as their posture coiled in violence.
The Blackcoats, the epitome of discipline and pride, with a legacy of a millennium behind them.
The personal guard of the emperor, the remnants of a bygone age.
Damien just stood there admiring them in their entirety, dreaming of holding the same power his father had.
Alas, his circumstances say otherwise and he was not stupid enough to go in a losing battle.
A large echoing voice then ushered him in and like gospel the soldiers beside him stepped to the side. Caellum, a heavy, silvery metal liquid flowed from their swords before it seeped into the door forcing it open.
Damien forced his eyes up as it locked with pools of crimson, the same crimson he held, the familiar crimson of House Magna. Damien's shoulder shook at the sight as pressure forced his head down and his knees took to the floor, his mouth opened in instinct as he slammed his fist over his chest. "I greet your Imperial Majesty!"
"Sit." a cold voice ordered.
Damien restrained the shaking of his shoulders as he stood up straight. The terror in his bones coming out in quick, awkward steps towards the chair. The door behind him slammed to a close as he realized a simple fact, he was alone.
Alone with the monster that left his mother to die, the one that left her murderers run free. Damien's fear was burned by his rage. Tearing his eyes from the man's form, the thought of decapitating the monster he once called father made his stomach flutter, but he shouldn't, not now.
That's why, instead, he decided to bask in the gold luxuries around him, gazing at the banner of golden eagles emblazoned on a bleeding moon. All the while a portrait of his Majesty stood against him.
The prideful, powerful and arrogant bastard. An opinion he'll never say to his face.
"Damien." said the Emperor as he looked up from the documents stacked around the table, a tendril emerging from his ring, depositing a paper into Damien's hand. "I have put into effect a new imperial order." He locked eyes with Damien, Damien who saw nothing but cold apathy. "Bounty hunters are to be removed in their entirety, a new organization is to be created for the peace of the Imperial Capital."
Damien bowed his head, what does any of that have to do with him? His mind churned at the question before he jolted at the answer he got, a soft whisper in his lips as he concealed the delight of his conclusions. "Am I to be assigned as the new head of this organization?"
"Yes, you are to create it from the ground up."
"May I ask for the reason for such an appointment?" Since he's never once given him attention neither has anyone else. So, why now? Why was he given something of such import.
"You have reached your age of maturity, living your life as a layabout would hurt the reputation of our family." He glared, "Take this chance to create something of your life, maybe then you'll honor Bella's memory." He remarked, unfazed as he jabbed against his own son's dignity.
YOU DARE UTTER HER NAME!?
His words doused the flutter in Damien's chest as fire roared in defiance, all the while he gave a polite smile, the clenching hands hidden beneath the desk as he spoke. "May I ask how far does my reach go in regards to my leadership? Is there someone I must answer to?"
"You will have full control of whatever organization you plan to create. The only man you are to answer to… is me." The Emperor broke off eye contact and resumed work as he performed a masterful art of magic.
The caellum ring in his fingers morphed from his own thoughts, passing unto him documents, a golden eagle emblazoned on its cover. "All the authorization that you'll need is here. The only thing you'll have access to is funding, half a million Aurins a year."
Damien froze in disbelief, how the hell could anyone hope to contain that madness? Especially with nothing but half a million. "Your Majesty? With all due respect, half a million Aurins isn't enough to create a force capable of policing a million-."
"Figure it out yourself." said the Emperor, in a tone that allowed for no arguments. "I would expect that before the start of council sessions you have taken control of the city's criminal infestation because I would expect nothing less from my blood."
The threat of disownment made Damien swallow whatever rebuttal he had as he bowed, a fist over his chest. "Then I shall endeavor to make you proud, your majesty."
"Good, take your leave."
"By your will, Your Majesty." Damien stood up and left.
With the door behind him closing shut, his face morphed into a wide grin before giggling. A soft, melodic giggle echoing through the halls as he skipped back to his quarters. The hilarity and stupidity of it all filled his chest with amusement.
The chance in front of him was unexpected, risky and dangerous.
It was a welcomed change from the dreary mundane.
Maybe there was a chance for this empire, after all.
Such a thought remained in his mind for the rest of the day and the day after.
Now, inside a carriage, he has read and reread the document in his hand. The document that showed the validity of his station and the gargantuan task that he has been thrown into. A fact that showed itself once he looked out.
The rows of elegant mansions, filled with beautiful women in their long, elegant dresses roaming in their expensive, colorful gardens. The sounds of their cheerful giggling echoing through the streets.
Yet, despite such luxuries every meter away from the palace the mansions shrunk, the colors dulled and the smell of perfume turned into dirt and ash, a thick scent punching him in his throat. He sighed at the sight, it was nothing but back to back rows of apartments, small houses and rooms, each one dirtier than the last.
It felt like home, especially the moment he stepped out and came upon an establishment, its sign emblazoned in gold paint.
"The Slice of Heaven." That was what it said and it most certainly was.
Its marble walls and golden horses stood at the center of it all, the center of commerce, the place where trade of the Empire gathered, its crime and depravity hidden behind the bustling sounds of trade and industry.
And the brothel stood as a divide against it .
"Oh, is that you, Prince Damien? I must say it's always a delight to have you!"
The captivating voice made him turn, his eyes locking onto a sly, seductive smile. Her eyes shone like emeralds as she grabbed his arm and left it between her soft, bountiful chest. "Why, if it isn't a beautiful lady. I'm always happy to be in your company."
"Oh, you flatter me, my prince." She giggled in her hand. "The wait was worth it."
Damien smirk grew wide, the cogs clicking in his head before his eyebrows rose. "Oh my, is that so? I certainly hope I don't disappoint, my dear." He whispered in her ear, his arms tightening around her waist.
The girl sheepishly giggled, as she pulled him in, "Oh my, quite the charmer. I heard you've gotten quite the position? How about you spend time with a beautiful woman while you remain a free man, my prince."
"News certainly travels fast, doesn't it? Lilith?" Damien whispered as he glanced at her chest, a small, black rose hanging on her neck. A smirk formed on his lip as he held it, "That's why I always call you the best."
Her smile froze as her eyes followed his fist and she sighed, "Thank you. The Countess has been expecting you."
"I know." Damien let's the necklace go and gestured forward as the doors opened.
The soft scent of lavender was the first thing he took in, the sounds of an enchanting tune was another, and with it came a blend of blue, green and purple each one soothed his senses. It was always a miracle how that hag created such a relaxing scene around a woman dancing to a tune.
"Hello there, sir. Do you have an appointment?" A woman asked.
Lilith smiled as she nuzzled herself in his arms. "He's here with me."
The girl widened her eyes in recognition, "Of course, madam. I'll send you to Lady Delilah."
The two of them strolled up the grand staircase, gathering the eyes and attention of everyone around them, some recognizing the face of the thirteenth prince of the empire, the sight consuming them in rumors.
"Aren't we just quite the sight?" Damien sang.
"Of course." her seductive smile vanished. "A sight to behold."
The moment they stepped through away from public sight. The necklace in her neck morphed with a thought, turning into needles aimed at his neck. He chuckled, "Must you be so hostile, so quickly? I would have enjoyed your wonderful company."
"Apologies for that. We have protocols, something I'm sure you already know."
"Obviously, I just wanted to have you in my arms, is all." His eyes turned up like a smile as a smirk played on his lips. "Wouldn't you like to spend some time with your beloved friend? I would, certainly now with your appreciating assets." His hug tightened, eyes locked on the needle pressing against his throat.
God, how terrifying of a change she has gone through. It was exciting.
She rolled her eyes, "Of course, you would." The needle vanished under her skin as she winced, a black spot dashing across her shoulder, the metal burning through her nerves. She noticed his eyes locking on her, "Is there a problem?"
"You've taken your first steps, haven't you? It looks painful."
"I have." She huffed, "Though, it is none of your business."
Damien's eyes soften, "Don't push yourself too much. The pain must be scathing."
"I am more than capable of taking care of myself. You on the other hand are out of practice. One you'll understand if you don't let go of my waist."
The threat of her capabilities was understood. Where has the cute little girl gone?
"As you wish." Damien raised his arms away from her as they stepped in front of the door. A door hidden on the wall, one which only those who knew could ever recognize. A door that hid behind a terrifying secret.
A door Damien kicked open, "Hey old hag! I'm back!"
A plume of smoke was all he got as an answer as a woman sat, purple eyes locked with his as she directed her eyes unto his form, her graying hair curled behind her as her wrinkled face opened up with a smile. "I knew you'd be here."
"Of course you do." Damien rolled his eyes, leaning his back on a couch, a soft resistance breaking against his skin as his eyes swerved around the lavender walls, horse sigils emblazoned on her table.
"Though, I suppose your little threads informed you of my new station."
"They have." She gestured the door shut. Lilith standing outside in attention.
"Then you should know why I'm here?"
"It was to be expected. We're the only connection you had." She turned to the portrait beside her, a woman with cascading black hair and purple eyes smiled back.
"But why did you change your mind? The last time we talked, you were following her last wishes."
"Her last wish was for me to live well. Bidding for the throne and associating with you would have jeopardized that."
"I see, so what changed?" The smoke rose up from her pipe as another plume of smoke covered her face. "I can't support you without knowing your purpose. I'll be risking what I've built for something you cannot assure."
"There was no chance of winning before, now… things have changed."
"Changed enough for you to return, huh? What makes you so sure?"
"This." Damien took out a seal.
A golden eagle stood proud in his hand, engraved upon a golden throne representing the power behind it, the strength it stood for. "My father gave me one of his precious Imperial seals, and along with it are all the documentations it requires."
"It means he's using you." Delilah widened her eyes. "He's using you as bait."
"And it means he has become desperate, desperate enough to give away an Imperial seal." He held his cheek in mild amusement, "And with him forcing me to root out the criminal gangs, he plans for me to take the ire of all the houses involved."
Delilah laughed, "As heartless as a Magna." She breathed out another plume of smoke, "But all this isn't enough to convince me, boy. For all I know, you'll cave at the quickest sign of resistance. You're getting yourself into something you are not prepared for."
"I disagree." Damien pointed out. "I am prepared more than you think."
"Is that so? What could you have possibly done, then?"
Damien held onto his sleeve and rolled it up.
Delilah raised an eyebrow, only to freeze at the sight before her, eyes widening in shock as her hand numbed in terror, the pipe clicking against the table and the threads between her fingers, roaring up in flames. She stood up and raged against him. "Are you out of your goddamn mind!"
Damien chuckled. "A weak man does not live well."
Lilith bursts through the door, hundreds of Caellum threads snapping along with it. "Grandmother! What happened!" Her eyes surveyed the room only to stop, eyes locked on Damien's arm, the darkness swimming beneath his skin, sucking in whatever light it came across.
Her heart sank and her face melted, Caellum dripping over her grimace, revealing dark hair and purple eyes. A haunted look fleeting across her face as she shouted. "W-what are you doing!? Are you insane!?"
Damien pushed the flaming thread off his face, "I'm proving my conviction."
He smirked. "Is it a bit shocking?"