I woke up on a park bench, cold and alone.
Not long before that, I'd been looking over the city, thinking things over. That's when I met him—this man. I couldn't see his face at first, so I thought he was just a random stranger. He asked me a few questions while he had a smoke. The longer we talked, the more it seemed like he knew me. I began to get suspicious, and maybe he realized the game was up, because that's when he showed me his face.
I can't explain how, or why, but—well, he looked exactly like you, Damian, only much, much older. I didn't even have a chance to react—he just slugged me in the gut, and knocked me out with a burst of Cinder.
I'm not sure how long I was out for—probably an hour, maybe longer.
Once I had my bearings, I went back to the safe house, and saw what'd happened. It was obvious you'd been attacked—there was blood everywhere, broken furniture, and neither you nor Tia were there. I grabbed my armor and headed out, but that's when it happened—what the Marquis was talking about.
You know how the Deep has a feeling about it, especially when it's been recently invoked? That horrible, menacing, slithering feeling—like something is watching you from the shadows. Uncle Cromwell says it's the reason why the Deep screams when it encounters the Flame—it's like a living connection to the Angel of the Deep. Anyway, I was getting ready to come find you when I felt the Deep stir.
It was like—the ripples in a pond, after you've thrown a rock. As though the entire body of the Deep, every shadow it was connected to, all of it had simultaneously been stirred up by something so much bigger than it. The shadows started stretching, and I could feel the Deep pointing towards something—towards Tenebrae.
I knew it would take me an hour or two to reach Tenebrae on foot, but I didn't have any better options. It was too late at night for the trams to be running, and we didn't have a car. But I started heading there anyway. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you or anyone else, not after your father and after Dominic. I think I was about ten minutes from the safe house when I ran into him.
I don't know whether he was looking for you specifically, or whether he was following the Deep like I was, but Marquis Lombrass pulled up in a car with two of his own private Priests. He opened the window and said to me,
"Are you lost little lady? Don't you know the streets are dangerous at night?"
Just like that, with his stupid little smirk. I told him that I didn't have time for his games, and that's when he told me he was headed to Tenebrae—and asked if I wanted a lift.
"What am I agreeing to if I get in the car with you?"
"Why do you have to make it sound so sinister? Can't a man help out a lady without any strings attached?"
"I'd believe that a lot more if I wasn't Captain of the Flameguard, and you weren't Marquis of Lombrass. I don't believe your family are in the business of handing out favors."
"Well, you might just be surprised. News travels quickly, you see, and my father is quite concerned about the Crown Prince's safety. He's very generously offered to shelter His Highness and his retinue, until the security of Rosweiss can be guaranteed."
At that point, I felt like I didn't have much of an option. The safe house was compromised, so I assumed the others might have fallen, too. Either way, it wasn't like we had any better choices. I took the Marquis up on his offer, and we made it down to Tenebrae. That's where I found you and—well, I suppose the rest is as you know it.
There's just two things I really can't figure out.
Firstly—why would the Duchy of Lombrass stick its neck out for us, especially when the Duke has been so vocally against the royal family for all these years?
And secondly—who the hell was the man I met, and why did he look exactly like you?
***
Lynn finished her tale, her questions hanging heavily in the air between them.
Damian put his hands together, and stared into the signet ring on his left hand, deep in thought.
The Rosa Regalia was now nothing more than an expensive heirloom. The Cinder that burned within the crystalline structure of the square-cut ruby was little more than decoration to someone Flameless like himself. Despite repeated attempts to invoke even the most basic of Aspects, Damian had come to realize he was truly cut off from the Angel.
That, too, was a conversation he needed to have with Lynn—but it could wait.
Her tale was highly intriguing, especially where his future self was concerned.
So my future self wanted to talk with Lynn? What exactly happened in his time that made him do all those things? And why talk to Lynn? Regret, or guilt, maybe?
Perhaps he'd never know the answers to those questions. Damian wasn't sure he wanted to know. He was a different person to that future self, and the decisions he made would be his own.
"Well, it might bring you some peace of mind to know you're not crazy."
Damian began, trying to carefully choose his words.
"I met the same person, right after the attack on the safe house. He claimed he was me from the future. I'm not sure whether I believe him entirely, but he had a Regalia just like mine. He also knew a lot—too much—about me, and even my mannerisms. If he was an imposter, he was a damned good actor."
Lynn frowned, rubbing her forehead.
"You're talking about—time travel, right? How is that even possible?"
"No idea. The other me called himself King Xavier VI, and said he'd returned from the future to help me. But all he did was lead me right into Tenebrae, and into a fight against Morgan Blackbriar."
Lynn arched an eyebrow, and her mouth opened slightly.
"Blackbriar…? I assumed he was involved, given you were outside his offices but… Are you saying he was the disturbance we felt in the Deep?"
Damian nodded slowly.
"I didn't tell the Marquis this because, just like you, I don't trust his intentions. But Morgan Blackbriar possesses a powerful connection to the Deep. He might not have been the one who killed my father, but he's definitely connected to whoever did, of that much I'm sure."
"I still can't believe it… What a conniving little shit. I didn't like him from the moment we met, but to think he was hiding that kind of power…"
"Right now, I don't think there's anything we can do about him—and I don't think he intends to act, not while Uncle Leon is in the Palace, and while the Order still control the city."
Picking up on the hidden meaning in his words, Lynn lowered her voice.
"You think Blackbriar wants to take over Rosweiss?"
"I'm not sure. If he does, he'll need more manpower. For now, he's a definite threat—but pursuing him directly won't bring me any closer to my father's killer."
Damian looked out the window and watched as another small village passed them by. A windmill rotated slowly in the breeze, grinding wheat into flour. The countryside was peaceful, and the tranquility outside the train's windows allowed his mind to think freely.
"The Duchy of Lombrass…"
With Rosweiss now safely behind him—and with the imminent threat of the Apostles and the High Table hundreds of miles away—he could turn his attention to another, equally grave concern.
"What does Duke Lombrass have to gain from protecting me?"
Lynn bobbed her head in reply.
"I've been wondering the same thing myself. Duke Lombrass has spent the past few decades championing the idea of more independence for the Duchy, and vocally complaining about the Crown's policies. If he had it his way, he'd be running his own little Tenebrae out in the western regions."
An inkling of worry needled at the back of Damian's skull.
"We need to be on guard at all times in Lombrass," he said firmly. "They might be offering us protection, but I'm sure they have ulterior motives. The only ones we can truly trust are ourselves—and that means we need to work together. Completely together."
At the sudden shift in his tone, Lynn groaned and rolled her eyes.
"Fiiiiine, I get it, already. I'll apologize to the little blonde ditz."
"A good start would be not referring to her as a ditz. Just try to get along, please."
Lynn sighed dramatically and placed her head on the table.
"No promises," she mumbled under her breath.
Damian chose not to hear that, and returned his attention to the window.
It was going to be a long, long train ride.