A man is known by the company he keeps
Messenger
"Listen," I began, trying to break through his defiance, "I had no choice. I did what I had to do."
Des's gaze was piercing, his silence speaking volumes. It was astonishing how expressive his eyes could be, even when he couldn't utter a word.
"I didn't just rush into danger without a plan," I continued. "What do you think I've been doing all this time?"
Finally growing tired of our standoff, I stood up. "Alright, I'm taking this out," I said, reaching for the rag that had silenced him.
As soon as I removed the gag, Des exploded. "You little—"
Before he could finish, I stuffed the rag back in, cutting him off.
"I needed to tie the loose ends as quickly as I could," I reasoned. "I did not vanish for nothing."
"I'll deal with you later. For now, just calm down." I walked out of the room, carefully closing the door behind me.
Lilinette was waiting in the corridor, her expression serious. "Did you sleep even a minute last night?"
My face said it all. I hadn't slept at all.
She sighed, shaking her head slightly. "You look like you could use a week's worth of rest."
"I've had worse," I replied.
Lilinette gave me a skeptical look, clearly unconvinced. "I bet you have. But at least try to get a bit of rest when this is all over. You can't keep running on empty forever."
I shrugged. "I'll manage."
She nodded, her expression softening a bit. "I've got some news. Most of Mazen's servants are either dead or missing. Derel and Ében haven't made a peep. And Belizár is scrambling to claim the twin's assets."
I frowned. "That's a lot of upheaval. So, what does that mean for us?"
"Someone might try to step into the power vacuum left by Mazen's weakened state," Lilinette explained. "There's a chance one of these mages or aspiring coven leaders might see it as an opportunity to take him down or seize control."
I rubbed my temples, feeling the weight of the situation. "Great. More potential enemies to deal with."
Lilinette looked surprised. "You consider Mazen an ally?"
I shrugged. "I wouldn't call him an ally, but... a frenemy maybe?"
For a moment we both remained silent.
"How did you manage it?" she demanded, her tone betraying her concern.
"What do you mean?" I asked, feigning ignorance.
"You couldn't possibly have beaten Mazen," she said. "How did you get him to help you? If he hadn't blinded the homunculi, we'd all have been in trouble."
I shrugged nonchalantly. "It breaks my heart that you doubt me," I said dramatically.
She pursed her lips.
"I'm not saying you're not strong enough to beat him," she corrected me, "you've taken care of Pitou. But you got Mazen on your side."
"I merely took advantage of Pitou's surprise to separate them," I shrugged, "They were weak alone."
"You didn't answer the original question," she pressed, her eyes narrowing.
"That's because you already suspect the answer," I replied.
Her eyes widened in realization as she tried to pry deeper with her gaze. I closed my mind to her intrusion. "Don't even try to find out. I've buried that memory deeper than any other."
She retreated, clearly frustrated. "Your defense is very annoying," she remarked, and I couldn't help but smile mockingly.
(...)
After dealing with Lilinette, I had things to check. Returning to the living area, I picked up my phone.
I read the latest article on Kaleidoscope with some satisfaction. The headline read:
[Prisoners in Acheron Facility on the Run!]
The article detailed the dramatic escape of prisoners, their rampage through the facility, and the heroic struggle of the guards who tried to stop them. George Willingham, the commander of the responding units, reported that two survivors were in critical condition. Investigators were on the hunt for the escaped prisoners, and the article speculated about the identity of the mysterious message—"Long live the King!"—that had been scrawled on the prison wall.
I grinned. Zack had certainly caused a stir. My amusement was interrupted by Mose, who stood awkwardly in the doorway, clearly uncomfortable but he didn't dare enter.
Words are complicated things — people interpret them differently. Moses knew better than anyone that just a few words could make people happy and sad at the same time. Words are profound, he always thought of them as scary as sharpened blades and just as capable of leaving a painful wound. You can hurt people unintentionally with your words, which is why, he began to choose his own wisely. He didn't know what to say. For a while I watched Moses suffer, then I got bored.
"You look as if you've signed a death warrant," I commented, noting his distressed expression.
Moses stammered. "I don't... er..."
"No need to apologize," I sighed. "It wasn't your fault at all. Let's just forget about it, okay?"
Moses was speechless at first, but then he cried. Nothing changed. The poor bastard.
Alex's call for help from the kitchen provided a convenient distraction. Mose seized the opportunity to exit the room, he ran like a scared little mouse. I sighed deeply. Nothing had changed.
I walked into the living room, which we had converted into a makeshift dining room, as we could no longer eat comfortably in the kitchen. Lilinette had transformed the glass table into a large dining table, complete with chairs.
Mica and Coffee were chatting amiably at the table. I knew from this alone that the vampire girl was particularly fond of Mica's company. I was not surprised, Mica had his way into anyone's heart with his gentle kindness and careful attention. I thought he was not indifferent to the vampire girl, and I had already summed up to myself that Mr Blutkaiser's marriage problem seemed to be solved — not exactly as he had planned, of course. Mica was, after all, far from noble, a mere second-generation vampire, without wealth or any particular rank. In any case, I figured Mica would have the old man wrapped around his finger sooner or later. More likely later.
Des sat aggrieved, and only Alice tried to soften him up occasionally, but he didn't succeed either — Des was angry with him for hitting him so viciously. Alice sighed a lot and looked ruefully at the hunter. As I watched them, I knew that Des was about to forgive him. When the seer stopped his attempts to soothe his anger, Des's eyes found him — wondering if he'd had enough or if he should drag it out for a while longer. For now, he thought he hadn't punished his partner enough, but I knew he'd soften soon. However, I also suspected Alice was in for a rough night after that.
Rolo was absorbed in his book, offering only a cursory glance as I entered. Luna stood beside me, leaning against the wall, her presence comforting in its quiet support. For the moment she said nothing, merely leaning against the wall. She didn't want to break the moment. She could sense how much I missed the others.
Somehow I felt everything was okay and whatever happened in the future, we'd deal with it. She just didn't want to take away a single moment of that perfect feeling.
"Are you staying for lunch?" I asked Luna.
She nodded.
Although Alex had been kind enough to invite Lilinette to lunch, she had declined point blank — largely due to her growing annoyance with Luna's playful teasing. Luna, on the other hand, seemed to relish the rivalry. A sort of rivalry developed between them, which I don't understand, and Lil eventually grew tired of it. Luna considered it a victory and was proud of herself. Ruben had opted out of lunch, preferring solitude, and I didn't press the issue.
Mose approached, grinning, with a huge pot, and I had a bad feeling just looking at it. This was not going to end well. No sooner had I thought about it than Moses managed to trip over his own foot.
Everyone was close to a heart attack, but as always, I saved the day. I clutched the pot handles with both hands while Mose stroked his forehead, which successfully collided with my shoulder. Moses, embarrassed, smiled sheepishly, and I couldn't help but grin at the familiar chaos. Nothing had truly changed. Unlucky moron.
Alex chose that moment to enter, then looked at our pair with big round eyes.
"Next time ask me to help," I grinned, "If you're serious about having lunch."
Of course, Mose blushed in embarrassment and shame, but my cheerful grin soon put his bad feelings to rest. I wasn't angry with him, so that was fine.
As we settled down for lunch, an eagle flew in through the window, carrying a message sealed with crimson wax. It dropped its letter with a noble simplicity. If my reflexes are any worse, it lands in my food. Then, as it came, it left with a proud stance and a firm pace. The sight of the seal made my heart skip a beat. The bird with the heart in its claws.
Everyone fell silent and watched with anxious attention. Perhaps I paled a little. Finally, I broke the seal, and after a moment I summoned the remaining courage to read the letter.
[Dear Mr. Shaytan,
You are cordially invited to our special royal meeting on Friday, 27th of July.
Yours sincerely, Silas Mór Blutkaiser, Sovereign of the West
P.S. If you do not attend the meeting, I will consider it a refusal of my friendly hospitality. Thank you for your kind understanding.]
The letter made me want to burn it immediately. The situation did not improve on a second reading. For a few moments, I merely stared at the parchment in disbelief.
Alex furrowed his brows. Rolo eyed the letter suspiciously, and I could see in his eyes that he wanted to tear it out of my hand just to find out what it said.
"I think..." I began uncertainly, "I have just received a death threat."
It was at that moment that Rolo's patience ran out, and he snatched the letter from my hand and skimmed the lines.
Rolo's eyes widened as he read. "Seems like it."
(...)
Most of Mazen's servants either perished or fled during the battle. Only ten remained with him, plus Felicián. These remaining ten servants, unable to rise, writhed on the floor under Mazen's curse, and the only thing their master could think of was that his precious antique carpet was ruined.
After the torture, he decided to have lunch. All went well until he remembered again that his name had come to light. His eyes lit up in anger and at the same moment the teacup in front of him exploded into atoms. But at a wave of his hand, the scattered fragments froze in mid-air and then reassembled into a precious porcelain cup again. There was not even a crack in the cup, and every drop of tea was swaying in it.
Mazen then returned to his office instead and glanced at his follower, who lay in bed with a furrowed brow and seemed to be in pain. Although he too was badly injured, Felis had served Mazen until he himself collapsed. He shook his head and concentrated on his cauldron. If all is true, this potion should fix him up. But then what? What would happen when he finished this potion?
Shaytan was thin, not very strong-looking, and almost a head shorter than him, and yet his appearance sometimes radiated such power that one did not even have the courage to go near him. Mazen, at least, found that his henchmen avoided him as much as possible — and Mazen realized after the fight that this was a wise decision.
Mazen liked this power in him, similar to his own, yet completely different. It made him shudder and Mazen had forgotten what shuddering was like so long ago. But the thing he liked most about him was that he would talk back to him, taunt him, eat breakfast, lunch and dinner with him, always trying to take a bite of his food.
He liked the way he would fall asleep and grumble when he had to wake up, he liked the way he would idiotically pull up his socks by hopping on one foot and he liked the way he would hold his fork so annoyingly.
Still, Mazen just couldn't get it out of his head that the damn monster had found out his real name. The monster with the snow-white hair, blood-soaked clothes, and that creepy grin on his face... He was now subject to that demon's every whim.