THOOM!
Morgane and Fell were inside of a cave, and Morgane was holding the fingerbone. Her head was bleeding, and she said, "That woman Niorh…even though she was far away from me in the dream distortion..she managed to cut me..how?"
Fell exclaimed, "We need to talk about something else. What were you talking about when you said you wanted to cripple the cult?"
"What do you benefit from it?"
"What?"
"Unlike many others, you don't play a role in this. A worthless familiar you are. And as an Aetherwalker as myself, I must do what I have to do to make sure the true leader shall rise. And that is not Gorron. One of the red crystals are imbued with the souls of the Aetherwalker bloodline founding father, Ashran. He was once a king in the Crimson Spire, and he ruled with sovereignty and unpredictability. Gorron had his sights set on one thing, ruling over all the realms, vampires, deities, everything. But he was killed by a mere vampire king, Kazelle, the strongest Vampire to ever exist. Ashran was a kin that only wanted fairness; if I can gain access to the world of spirits, I can release Ashran from the crystal. In death, all spirits must succumb to the world of spirits, so they still are linked to it, even if they are inside the crystals. I know my mother, the High Priestess, wants me to raise Gorron with these items, but I don't want to do that. Gorron tried to do things to me when he was alive, tried to force me to be a concubine. Forcefully. I couldn't do it. The ultimate goal is to merge all items together for the resurrection, missing one item would surely ruin everything."
Morgane had shed a tear, and she continued, "I don't want Gorron to come back, but there's so many forces working against me. The cult, my mother, the Constabulary, the Vermillion Order, Superintendent Beckham, and now Niorh. The Constabulary have a vampire on their side, a man named Raccun. A guard dog for their higher ups. He's strong. Always yearned to be a king, he might have it if he keeps being obedient, being told what to do, and killing people and staging them to make it look like other vampires have done it. Aulus Redgrave, a high ranking Vermilion Order member that's been passing out red crystals, making it harder for me to track which crystal holds the soul of Ashran."
"Don't forget about Kazelle, ya know? Some of the cult members have been saying-."
"I know what they have been saying, how Kazelle has risen and how he's killed a zealot from witnesses. But they must've been talking about Raccun, I think they are mistaken. Until I see Kazelle with my own eyes..I might get him to help me. He was taken down with a forbidden spell, how could he be raised?"
"Oh.."
"So now, are you going to go tell on me? I won't stop you, I do not like violence."
"Fuck, Morgane."
"If you stick with me, I can turn you into a human again."
Fell gasped, and he said, "Really..?"
"I can. Ashran's ability exceeds mine, so he can use dream distortion to make you look like your old self."
"So it's possible…I was told it wasn't…"
"My mother never promised you that, did she? You're very well capable of becoming human again. You have what it takes, you are special. Think about it, Fell, the mighty warrior has risen again, ready to take on any conflict."
"Haha, I remember those days. Okay, I won't say a word. But if I'm forced to do so-."
"Then tell. I will not punish you, but I know how mighty you are, you won't ever fold."
"I won't.."
"Good."
"But why did Niorh attack you? Like she knew.."
"I don't know what her eyes see, but I heard her eyes have an unknown ability that's come from a rare bloodline of Vampires, though the name has never been said. She must've known that even though I plan to free Ashran, blood has to be shed. That is when violence is necessary."
(Morning time)
Amidst the morning streets of New Babel, Kazelle found himself an unlikely guide to a pair of vampiric siblings, Castila and Darius, whose bickering was as ceaseless as the ticking of the city's many clocks. They moved through the motley mazes of New Babel, navigating the civil war of cobblestone and copper that defined the city's landscape. The siblings were leading Kazelle through, searching for nearby vampires. They wore hats to cover half of their faces.
The trio slipped alongside the sidewalks of New Babel, the uproar of the city's heart never far from their ears. The clamor of town criers intersected with the cacophony of labor and leisure, crafting a tapestry as rich as any noble's chambers.
"Extra! Extra! Clockwork Colossus stuns crowd in the Grand Arena!" bellowed a crier, his voice cutting sharply through the din as he waved sheafs of tinted newsprint.
Darius nudged Kazelle, nodding towards the crier. "The humans have their gladiators fight machines for sport now. It's quite the spectacle."
Castila perused the headline with a smirk. "Perhaps you could take a few pointers, Kazelle—a little less brooding, a little more showmanship?"
Just then, an inventor trudged by, her arms laden with blueprints and metallic trinkets that clinked together like a chime. Rushed and with a hint of exasperation, she nearly collided with the trio, scattering her inventions to the cobbles.
"Drat it all!" she cursed, kneeling to gather her scattered dreams.
Castila swooped in to assist, gathering a handful of sprockets and cogs. "My dear," she said with an impish grin, "seems like you've got your hands full."
The inventor glanced up in surprise. "Oh! Thank you, miss," she began, before noticing their unusual attire. "Are you... attending a costume ball?"
Kazelle tilted his head, meticulously examining a gear. "A ball? Nay. We are humble connoisseurs of this city's rich pageantry."
"We're nocturnal philanthropists," Darius added offhandedly, helping the inventor to her feet.
As they continued down the promenade, street performers and vendors vied for their attention. A juggler, her arms a blur of knives and flaming batons, wove fire into looping infernos that mesmerized onlookers.
Castila clapped along with the crowd, whispering to Kazelle, "Think you could keep up with that?"
Kazelle's lips twitched in a rare smile. "I'll stick to manipulating the souls of my victims, thank you."
'Is this what they call…bonding? Hanging out? It is refreshing indeed. Castila and Darius, they're not being obnoxious during this time. Is it because of the adventure we are pursuing on these streets?'
Nearby, a mechanic wheeled out his automatons, clockwork figurines that played instruments with mechanical precision—a one-man orchestra that played to the tapping of shoes on pavement. A copper drummer beat a steady rhythm as steam whistled through flute pipes, creating a symphony that seemed to capture the city's pulse.
"This New Babel..." Kazelle mused, eyeing the contraptions. "It is a realm unto itself. A menagerie of mechanized marvels."
"And yet," Darius chimed in, "none of it holds a candle to the symphony of the night."
A purveyor of exotic spices called out to the siblings, his stall fragrant with aromas from distant lands. Darius brooded at the thought of food but Castila indulged in a deep inhale, appreciating the human delights.
"Ah, if only saffron and cinnamon could sate our... 'other' appetites," she mused melodramatically, earning an eye roll from her brother.
Kazelle raised an eyebrow. "And yet, you both seem to feast well upon the absurd."
"So true," Darius muttered, as they passed by a crier announcing the opening of a new aethereal bathhouse where patrons could soak in clouds.
"See that, old man? That's a steam-powered carriage!" Castila pointed out with a roll of her eyes as a horned contraption whizzed by, spewing billows of vaporous exhaust, leaving Kazelle visibly intrigued by the puffing beast of burden.
"Preposterous... it moves without horses? What sorcery drives its limbs?" Kazelle inquired, his fascination thinly veiled beneath a veneer of noble disdain.
"Sorcery? Oh, please. It's technology," Darius chortled, "You seriously need to get out of your crypt more often."
Castila, inspecting a seafood vendor's stall streaming with mist, pilfered a shrimp and tossed it at her brother. "And you need to stop patronizing nobility that could snap you like a twig!"
Darius caught the shrimp in his mouth and smirked, "Yeah, but you love me."
"Damn you!"
Kazelle thought, 'Nevermind. They're still obnoxious.'
Their course was repeatedly interrupted by the wondrous distractions of the city. A trio of mechanical performing monkeys caught Kazelle's eye, clanging cymbals and drums in a perfect, if not hauntingly lifeless, rhythm.
"What manner of demonic ritual is this?" Kazelle murmured, stepping closer with a quizzical brow.
"It's called entertainment, my dreadfully out-of-touch lord," Castila quipped, pulling him away. "Humans do love their novelties. It's weird. Weird creations they make."
As the evening's velvet draped over; Suddenly, amid the shadow-hued alleyways, a band of street urchins accosted them, wielding an array of bizarre homemade gadgets intended to ward off the supernatural. "Stand back, bloodsuckers! We've got garlic bombs and holy water pistols," the ringleader yelled, brandishing a leaky water gun with defiant pride.
"Oh dear, whatever shall we do?" Darius feigned terror, only to burst into laughter as a garlic clove plopped harmlessly at his feet.
"Scram, or die, or I'll turn you all into ants!" Castila threatened, flaring her eyes red, and the children scattered into the twilight with shrieks of delight.
"Just like you to resort to the clichés," Darius teased, shaking his head. "The turning into ants thing—so overdone."
"Hmmm how about shutting the hell up?"
"Huh? You shut up!"
"You!"
"You!"
Continuing their misadventure, they encountered a street magician, a human attempting to awe his small audience with sleight of hand. "Behold, as I make this coin disappear," the magician announced with flair.
Kazelle, unamused by the trivial display, remarked dryly, "I could show him true disappearance. No coin would be left in his pocket... or his hand. Nor his soul.."
Castila chuckled, her laughter like the chime of a bell in the somber quarter. "Kazelle, you ancient killjoy, must you threaten every human that crosses your path? Beckham was right, you're pretty funny for a weirdo."
Darius laughed arrogantly, "Hell yeah!"
Kazelle's gaze lingered on a curious contraption displayed outside an inventor's workshop—a brass telescope with ornate gears that whirled and ticked with each turn. "Behold! The All-Seeing Aether Scope," boasted a sign, promising views into realms beyond the stars.
"Ah, now this looks fascinating," Kazelle mused, momentarily forgetting their quest.
Darius snorted. "That old thing? It's probably just lenses and lies. Come on, let's keep looking for—"
But Castila cut him off, grinning mischievously. "Oh, let's indulge our guest, brother. He's clearly enchanted, stuck up with his kingly stuff."
"Booooring."
Darius frowned at Kazelle's beady-eyed inspection of the scope. "Enchanted or not, if he breaks it, you're paying."
They were interrupted by an irate shopkeeper, her cheeks flushed with anger as she shooed away a hulking automaton that had decided to clean her storefront during business hours. "Off with you, you mechanical menace!" she shouted, slamming down a broomstick upon its metallic carcass which responded with a series of polite but firm apologies as it steamed away in retreat.
"Ah, modern conveniences," Darius remarked dryly. "They have a life of their own. So…amazing."
Taking their leave from the watchful eyes of the shopkeeper, Castila guided them down a maze of back alleys that promised shortcuts but often led to dead ends or more bizarre scenes. At one street corner, a cluster of poets had assembled, reciting odes to inanimate objects. A barrel-chested man proclaimed his passion for a boiler with such fervor that Kazelle couldn't help but ponder the strangeness of human affection.
Their laughter was abruptly cut short by a cry from above. A fleet of tiny mechanical birds had become entangled in a series of loops and whirls with their strings meshed together, creating a chaotic aerial dance. An engineer below, smudged with soot, desperately yanked at a control box, only adding to the pandemonium.
"Is this... normal for humans?" Kazelle queried, head tilted, as he observed the mechanical mayhem.
"Perfectly normal," said Castila with a note of irony, watching a detached propeller zipping past her. "And here we are without popcorn."
"New Babel's finest," Darius drawled, ducking as a bird swooped down, narrowly missing his head.
Just when it seemed their journey couldn't grow more farcical, they turned the corner onto a bustling avenue where a passing parade of automaton clowns performed for a laughing and cheering crowd. Their gears grinding in comedic timing, the clowns sprayed confetti and tooted horns in a discordant melody that echoed off the high-rises.
"Ahh, the humans do put on a good display," Kazelle admitted.
'Why am I enjoying this..? Should I be..?'
(New Babel Constabulary Headquarters)
The bright gray skies howled with a slight wind, and Beckham was standing outside the entrance, chewing on a toothpick. There were a few officers standing off away from her, shaking in fear.
Beckham said to them, "What the hell are you nerds crying about? What are you so fidgety for?"
"AGH! We don't want trouble!"
"Huh?"
She looked down, seeing she had multiple cigarettes on the ground. She had gotten angry earlier because her cigarettes weren't lighting up, so she slammed them to the ground, and began shooting at them.
Beckham came to this realization, saying, "Ohhhh. My bad. Don't be chicken shit."
Approaching, was Aulus Redgrave, Cassius, And Drusilla.
Beckham snarled, "Here come the three headaches."
Aulus replied, "Should I care about what you say? I'm here to see Chief Constable Fleming."
"What's the Vermilion Order want with him now?"
Beckham noticed Aulus looked sickly, his veins popping out more and more.
Beckham said, "You look like a camel dump. What's going on with you? Those crystals are finally killing you guys? It's about time."
Cassius exclaimed, "That's what I said! He looks sick!"
Drusilla confessed, "This fool appeared out of nowhere, we thought of him to be dead, but here he is, showing up. He apparently-."
Aulus interrupted her, "Enough. This woman doesn't need to know anything, she never gave us information when we asked."
Beckham smirked, "Yep, and I intend to keep it that way. I know you all are hiding something."
Cassius pointed at himself, "I promise I'm not hiding anything! I swear!""
Drusilla snorted, "I'm hiding a lot. I never tell my secrets."
Aulus walked past Beckham, saying, "Excuse me, Superintendent Beckham."
Beckham grinned, "Watch your back. And what happened to Gearsley? I heard some thing."
Aulus stopped, but Cassius said, "He was killed by that vampire last night! But Aulus killed that monster in one strike!"
Drusilla nodded, "We're here to see who will be replacing Gearsley, apparently he's in the office with the higher ups, and he will be making an appearance during Gearsley's funeral today."
Beckham asked, "You don't say? Well, gonna be tough of you trying to get a meeting with the higher ups. Constabulary Burnstead is up there telling on me to them about how I abuse my power and how I always let people go. Good luck. I'll be here when you guys start crying about waiting so long."