Post by Satra on Jan 21, 2011 14:36:38 GMT -5
7667 words. About 16 pages. Guh.
Not the best writing in the world. Certainly not my best work. However, I was getting a little sick of not having this done for the longest time, so I decided to suck it up and bear through the bad writing. About 1/3 of this was written within months of me first getting Victor, and the rest of it was written over the past week or so. :B
Victor is the main, obviously. Some very brief mentions of Bernard and the Police force (Victor is currently 26-ish, so it's the police force as of 5 years ago. If you have a PC that, within the SoD timeline was on the Police force, feel free to have them be a part of the police raid near the end if you want. :3)
Uhhh, not sure what else to say. Enjoy?
The smells coming from that house made him dizzy.
He’d learned to ignore the feeling, just accepting it as a part of his daily routine. However, passing by this house as the scent of cooking meat infused with an intricate array of herb and spices in the marinade wafted over to him, a stabbing pain from his gut shot through him. Immediately his mouth began to water. He stumbled as his vision swam. He was dizzy and in pain. He had never felt tempted to commit theft but… he had no money and he knew there was no food at home. He was suddenly driven by an overwhelming need. He crept up on the house, drool spilling out of his mouth. His sunken eyes were huge with desperation.
A chubby Corvistowne woman by the name of Brianna went to the sink to wash her dishes and hummed. This meal was going to be incredible, she knew it. Today was the day she had an interview with a potential agent. She laughed at the thought of her parents pressuring her into being a doctor. Doctor, shmoctor! Cooking was just as much of a science as anything! She knew it wasn’t a good idea to count her chickens before they were hatched, but she couldn’t help but imagine herself running her own restaurant or catering company… Then the gruesome little child just outside her window jolted her into reality. She gasped and dropped the pots in her hands, their content splattering all over the floor and on her legs and apron. She hardly noticed as she stared in horror at the filthy, emaciated, drooling child on her front lawn. He jumped at her yowl and tripped on himself as he tried to get away. He tried to get to his feet, but he was too tired and weak from malnutrition to do so in a swift manner. Brianna covered her mouth as she watched his pathetic, weak limbs struggle lifting his tiny, skeletal form. She felt like her ribcage was being compressed. This child revolted her, the image of it’s disgusting little figure inside her perfect home made her gag, but how could she not do anything? She wanted to cry just looking at it. She rushed outside to the child and kneeled down before it. He was terrified. This woman was clearly going to punish him for his attempt at stealing her food! His ears were plastered back against his skull and his tail was pinned firmly to his stomach.
“Shhhh, it’s okay little one,” she called gently out to the child only feet away from her, his protruding ribs even more obvious from this distance than before. She fought back tears the entire time. Who in their right mind could let a child get in this state? “I don’t want to hurt you. Would you like something to eat?” At that, the child’s ears shot up. Had he heard wrong? He just stared back at her until she repeated the question. He nodded slowly, still not believing it. He allowed her to pick him up and carry her inside. He purred uncontrollably as he buried his head in her rather ample bosom with the scent of food still lingering in her clothing and fur. She pet him, feeling his ribs. It was like there was paper-thin layer of skin and fur over some bones. Here she was dreaming and praying every night to be blessed with a child while someone else neglected their own.
Well, what else could be expected from Lowlanders?
She knew exactly what would happen if she put a full plate of food in front of him, so she started him off slowly with some milk. While he lapped up the liquid faster than he really should have, she gathered some scraps from the preparation of her meal: Left over bits of lettuce, fruit, cheese, and dressing from her salad, she stole a few hors d’eourves from her platter, and took the ham hock with scraps of meat still on it and gave it to the Kitten. If he wanted more, she would give him some, but what she provided should be more than enough for the tiny little child. She started him with the lighter foods and in small portions to prevent him from gorging and making himself sick. She covered her quivering lip as she watched the pathetic little child began to cry as he devoured the food in front of him. Tears streaked down his filthy cheeks, contaminating the best ham she’d ever made. She was shocked he didn’t choke himself eating. Even with the small portions at a time, he inhaled the food she put in front of him. He looked back up at her after he swallowed the last of the food. He couldn’t begin to express his thanks to her, so he buried his head in her lap, crying and purring at the same time. She just scooped the little Kitten into her arms, careful not to touch the rot on his body, and stroked his head. She couldn’t stop herself from sobbing softly as the little Kitten’s purrs rumbled against her chest. He was so tiny, but he body displayed clearly the neglect he’d been through, neglect which was clearly not self-inflicted. When she finally calmed down again, she spoke to him.
“What’s you’re name, little boy?” she asked softly. He pulled his head from her apron and looked up at her. His tears blazed trails of clean on his dirty face. He squeaked quietly, too shy to give an answer. He was a touch overwhelmed. She was being kind to him? Weren’t people who weren’t Lowlanders cruel to Lowlanders? He became confused, trying to wrap his naive mind around the way the world worked. She just felt that gaze from those big, green eyes pull at her heart. She had time before her interview…
“It’s okay, you don’t have to answer yet,” she said softly. The shock from seeing a child in this state vanished and was replaced by a soft, motherly smile, “Are you still hungry?” The child looked at her, then back down at his stomach, then back up at her.
“M-my stomach hurts, but… I don’t think I’m hungry,” he said, his confusion very apparent. He’d never been full in his life. He’d never seen his stomach bulge out like that before.
“Oh,” she laughed lightly, “That means you ate a little too much, but that’s okay. A nap will make that feeling go away. Did you want a bath, too?” Those ribs were incredibly disturbing, and yet she couldn’t stop touching them. He shook his head.
“If I get soap in my sores, it hurts,” he said pointing to the oozing rot wound on his side. She rubbed the back of his neck.
“What if I promise to be extra careful, hmm? Will you let me? It would make me very happy if you would.” He was going to have a bath whether he wanted one or not. All that filth would just make the rot worse. He took a breath in. He was clearly afraid of the prospect, but he wanted to make her happy since she was such a nice lady. Guilted into it, he nodded in agreement.
The bath wasn’t as bad as he expected. The water was warm and the soap she used smelled a bit like roses. She was gentle with him and got him cleaner than he’d ever seen himself. It felt weird to no longer have that layer of dirt he was used to, like a layer of himself was missing… and yet, it felt so incredible. Then she had something weird in her hands. He’d never seen anything like it.
“Now, this is going to be a little loud, but when you get used to it, you’ll like it a lot,” she assured him. He gave a start when she started it up. She put it on the lowest setting, but it still frightened him. He stared at the lightly wailing machine, then let out a cry when she pointed it at him. He flailed and covered his face. When he was still, he felt nothing but a constant flow of warm air on him. He removed his paws from over his eyes as he realized nothing was hurting him. If anything, it felt really good. Those giant green eyes made the woman laugh. For a member of such an undesirable region, he sure was adorable. A paw came up to swipe at the flow of warm air. The woman laughed and picked up the brush she’d put next to herself.
“Now come here so I can dry you off. If you stay so far away, this won’t work very well,” she said, laughing at the child. He came closer with little hesitation. As she brushed and dried him, he mewled happily. After some time, he was clean, dry, warm, and full. All at once. As the woman lowered her hand to help herself up, she felt a bump against it. Her head snapped around to see what that was. He did it again. He jumped up to rub his head against her hand, only to get a bump. He was purring louder than he’d ever in his life.
“I need to get ready for a very special guest, dear,” she said, patting him on the head before she hoisted herself up, “You can stay if you promise to be good and quiet for a while.”
“Yes!” he squeaked, “I can be quiet for a really long time! But can I have something to play with if it’s a really, really long time?” She smiled as she began cleaning off her legs from her earlier mess first and pimped a little, her previous plans of pulling all the stops slightly hampered.
“Of course I’ll give you a toy. Would you like to help me clean the kitchen first?”
“Yes!” he said with the same amount of excitement as before. Together they left the bathroom and set to work.
--
The interview went smoothly. Not as well as she would’ve hoped as she felt a little preoccupied. She worried if she looked acceptable enough or would be considered slovenly… but most of all she worried that the little Kitten would call attention to himself. She was a damned fool for not sending him out. Surely something raised by Lowlanders would be a disruptive thing. He would get bored and come out… it didn’t help that her interviewer just so happened to be Josiggy… but she kept her worries at bay.
She smiled and waved the man goodbye, then rushed to the room she’d left him in. God, what of her precious things had he broken? She didn’t hear anything, but surely he…
Was fast asleep on the bed.
His ribs rose and fell as his body was twisted in an awkward shape that only a feline could pull off. The toy she’d given him was held close to him in his front paws and the string it came on was wrapped lightly around him. She sighed a breath of relief and smiled. Such a sweet thing he was…
“Child,” she called softly to the boy. He was oblivious, still fast asleep. She sat on the bed and gently stroked one of his paws. “Hey—“ but before the word could come out, the Kitten woke with a violent start. He looked around in confusion, but then he saw the woman again, and pounced right into her lap and began purring again. She pet him as she looked around the room. Absolutely nothing was out of place… What a good child.
“You need to go home now. Your parents will worry about you.” The look she got back from him immediately made her regret those words. He looked almost hurt.
“But…” he began to protest.
“No, you have to go. You can come back, though, I promise.” She wasn’t sure why she said that, but the words just came tumbling out of her. The promise was made before she could stop it. The wide-eyes optimism in his eyes took away her desire to take back that promise. His life was probably miserable back home.
She began to regret her decision to make him go back home when she was standing in the doorway watching him leave. It wasn’t that he was leaving, she knew he’d be back, it was how dark it was. Where there were Lowlanders, there was scum. And scum especially like to come out and play at night.
“Wait!” she called after him. He turned to look back, giving her a questioning look. She took in a breath, and opened the door wider, “Come back inside. It’s too dark for you to go back home all by yourself.” He let out a happy mewl and sprinted inside. She shut the door immediately. If any of her neighbors saw this… Of course she wouldn’t think of the fact that when it was safe for him to leave was the time her neighbors would be out and about and he would be seen leaving her house! She sighed. She couldn’t very well send him out again.
“Come on. There’s an extra room you can stay in. But only for tonight, okay? This is a very special day, but it won’t happen again, okay?” The Kitten nodded in agreement, purring from the trek through the hallway until he fell into a deep slumber cuddled in the sheets of the spare bed.
--
It had become a habit as of late to feed the Kitten and let him stay for a night whenever he came by to visit. It all started a few days after he came back the first time, bringing her flowers and telling her thank you. It was a bouquet of random weeds she knew he picked out of someone’s yard, but it was sweet and she couldn’t help but let him in again.
More time passed, years later. This ritual continued. She’d figured out a good deal of his life by asking him questions. She was able to figure out with her own experience through the boy’s lack of such that his mother sometimes solicited sexual favors for a little bit of pocket money. His father was a drunkard bastard who was abusive and worked a menial job. When he had one, that is. They subsisted off theft and trash, even eventually coercing their child to do the same. Their own child! Bristling, she began teaching the child.
“But stealing is wrong. You shouldn’t do that,” she told him. His ears flattened and his shoulders hunched in his embarrassment.
“I... know, but sometimes that’s the only way I can eat. You’re always so good to me here, but I don’t come here enough to survive...” he muttered, eyes averted. Brianna promptly shut her mouth, unsure how to react. Here she was making him ashamed for something he couldn’t help. He wasn’t old enough to get a job. There were few decent people who would hire a nine year old.
“I, no I’m sorry. It is wrong to steal, but I some times forget the world doesn’t always work the way I wish it would.” Damn the world. Making morals ambiguous. “Listen, I’ve been thinking, Da-“ she was suddenly interrupted by a huge BANG! and smoke coming up from the basement. Moments later a coughing Crane came into view. Another Corvistowne whose marking were yellow when they weren’t obscured by soot.
“Terribly sorry, m’dear,” he scratched the back of his head. “Ah! We have our visitor again! Welcome back... er...” The befuddled gentleman just stood there, unable to remember the name of a child he’d known for four years now. Brianna just shook her head. She loved that man with every scrap of her being, but that didn’t stop her from wondering why.
“Dinner’s almost done, wash up, dear,” she just smiled. He clapped for joy, puffs of smoke coming out of his hands with each clap.
“Excellent! I shall be right up! I just need to go but a few things in a safe place, then I’ll be right back out!” The Crane dashed out of the room. the two remaining in it just gave each other a look.
“I’ll go down to drag him away from whatever he distracted himself with while cleaning up right after I set the table?” he asked. Brianna just laughed and nodded.
--
“Look! Someone’s moving in across the street!” called the boy, now 11, to the woman back in the kitchen. Had he said anything else, she would’ve reminded him that he had asked for a cooking lesson and he needed to get his butt in the kitchen if he wanted to learn. However, she came to the window to look.
“Well I’ll be,” she said. She then gasped and put her hand to her chest when the new tenants came out of the carriage. An Esterberry Mouse, Corvistowne Fox and a gorgeous little mixed girl. A bit dramatic of an action, but they were a lovely looking family. From what she could see from across the street, the little girl had some of the best features of both of her parents’ Breed and Region. She bit her lip to help stop the bubbling envy that began rising as she looked at the little girl.
“We should make something to give to them to welcome them to the neighborhood!” The excited statement startled Brianna out of her thoughts. She smiled at the other Feline and nodded.
“That’s a wonderful idea. What would you like to make for them?”
--
Failed again.
She crumpled the paper and threw it in the trash. What a great way to ruin the great news from her agent about her work becoming recognized by prominent chefs.
“I... don’t live here yet, do I?” asked the twelve year old male. Brianna shook her head, trying to smile. It took effort for her gaze not to find its way back to the waste bin that contained the papers saying her attempt at adoption was not legally possible. Surely there was a law against neglectful, abusive parents!
“Don’t worry, we’ll win this one. Is all your homework done? Your friend Riza wanted to play with you today.” She could’ve laughed at his very obvious blush when he averted his eyes.
“You don’t have to say it like we’re five,” he muttered, “And yes, I’m done!” The last bit was eager. He was very excited to see Riza. He thought his crush on the Corvistowne-Esterberry mix was a secret. It delighted Brianna to the point of giggling like a girl half her age, but it made the girl’s mother uneasy and her father infuriated.
“No, no! Don’t you go anywhere, you know I check it before you go out and play. You sit there and I’ll be there in a second,” she scolded him mildly. He squirmed impatiently as he waited for her.
“Very nice! You got it all right! We’ll convince the school board to let you into our district.” He never ceased to astonish her with how very bright he truly was. He needed a higher education. No wonder the little Esterberry mix took such a liking to him, “Go play. But reme—hey! don’t be in such a rush! She’s not going anywhere! Remember to be polite around Mr. Tyler. You’re a good kid and he needs to see that,” she said, walking over to him to give him a kiss on the forehead. He nodded. He wanted very much for her family to like him! He ran off across the street to find Riza.
--
Brianna sat on the couch, hugging her knees to her chest. His rot had been getting worse. She’d done the research. The rate it spread on him was considered fast. His life expectancy was low. She did everything she could while he was here, kept him clean, well fed, and healthy, but she couldn’t do anything for when he was home. Apparently his home was in a slum that experience frequent sewage ruptures. It was constantly moist and heavily polluted.
She watched him roll a ball back and forth between himself and his friend. There had to be something she could do for him...
--
“Well hello there,” greeted a voice from behind him. The fourteen year old Feline turned his head to see another Lowlander. Biped, pine martin the rank and suit were covered by the silk vest and dark cape.
“Um, Hello! Are you lost?” he was sure if there was another Lowlander on this street, he would have heard a pretty big deal being made out of it. His tail twitched as he looked up from his magic book.
“No. I believe I have found what I need,” he laughed with a crooked smile, “You enjoying that book?”
“Uh, yeah. Why do you ask?” this guy was giving him creepy vibes.
“Oh, no reason. I just have an interest in studying magic as well. Thought there might be some common ground shared. They call me Damien. May I ask your name?” he asked with a grin, leaning over the fence. Serious creepy vibes. There was a rule of magic that stated never give your real name. It gave people power over you. It was an old rule and often went unheeded, but there was merit in the argument. It was good to be safe.
“I-it’s Thomas, sir. Thomas Baker,” he pulled the name out of thin air. The man smiled again, echoing the name.
“Thomas. It’s a pleasure meeting you. I hope our paths cross again soon,” he nodded and shuffled off and the woman watching from the kitchen window went to the door. Corvistownes. Obnoxious little busy bodies. Though she was a Feline, like the boy. Possibly a parent. Made him vaguely interested in who would be screwing a Lowlander and still be able to move into a neighborhood like this, but he was getting far too many looks from passersby. He would be back. He finally found the source of all that energy and it would be his.
--
It hadn’t taken long for Damien to convince ‘Thomas’ to come under his tutelage. He knew he had to approach the Feline very carefully. He still had a strong sense of morals and needed to be eased into full practice of Black Magic. For now he was simply teaching magic. The slippery slope will begin. From self defense to revenge to malice, the temptations will bring him down the path. Morals made ambiguous will be the key. Turn his thirst for knowledge into a force to be reckoned with, undeterred by the myth of ‘morality’.
The kid had the natural talent and the drive. The few things that stood in his way would soon be removed.
--
The boy woke with a start. He’d dreamed of blood of his hands, a Card screaming. The week before he’d learned a spell that involved sacrificing a bander to make it work. Ever since then, he’d been plagued with nightmares. Always so vivid and brutal, every time he woke in a cold sweat the disorientation of waking from such a dream leaving him panicked, believing for a few moments he was actually covered in blood. Since then he’d started having doubts about his ‘mentor’ of the past few years and his teachings.
He learned the man had a few more students that he did not allow to meet each other. He learned that he had a whole secret basement that he punished his students for severely if they found out, then cast a spell to make them forget. ‘Thomas’ only knew because he’d managed to break out of the spell after a year had passed from it being cast. If Damien was hiding his own memories from him, what else was he hiding?
He’d begun to suspect Damien also had some kind of spell on the area, blocking out the neighbor’s perception of.. something. What was Damien doing that he didn’t want the neighbors to hear, smell or see? True, everyone had a right to privacy, but if his suspicions were correct, then why all the extra protection? The young Cat ruled out wild dance parties. Damien couldn’t stand loud noise.
He curled up, trying to fall back asleep. His mind buzzed. Too many unanswered questions dragged him away from the sleep his exhausted mind and body desired.
--
“THOMAS! What the HELL are you doing down here?!”
Caught the second time. Some sleuth. You’d think a Feline would be naturally decent at stealth.
“I accidentally broke through the spell you have set up on this place that blocks out the sound of screaming coming from your basement.” He wanted to mention off-hand something implied he’d no idea this was down here, but the man was a Diamond. He had to find a way to dance around the subject discreetly or find a way to imply the untruth without outright lying. Damien simply blinked. He’d managed to break through it?
“Despite my anger at your disobeying direct orders, I must say I am impressed.” Ah, a shiny change of topic. If only he could physically breathe a sigh of relief.
“What is this place?” His mentor tensed, eyeing his student for a long time before relaxing.
“I think you’re ready. This place is where I accomplish my most advanced magic.”
“Who are these people?” he kept his tone and manner as neutral as possible. It was hard, as he felt beyond disgusted at this moment at both himself and his mentor. The man puffed proudly.
“Sacrifices for the most advanced of magic. For work that’s beyond the simple blood of a bander or tove,” he looked proudly at his student, his face falling a little when he gave no reaction. An eyebrow raised, “Thomas?”
“Teach me.” It was the last thing he wanted then, but he couldn’t let on his disapproval. Being the second time he’s crossed into forbidden territory, he wouldn’t be surprised if his life would be considered forfeit if he didn’t pretend. His mentor smiled broadly and laughed.
“I always had the highest hopes for you, Thomas.”
--
He’d been put to work caring for the Card sacrifices that would be used in future rituals, not allowed to have an active role in any of the rituals. He was fine with that. He knew he wouldn’t be able to maintain his composure had he even been forced to watch one. He had to find a way to get out and take the living with him. He figured out one way he could get himself out, but how could he take the Cards out from the man’s lair without him noticing? Think. Think!
“Hey.”
The Cat jumped at the voice and looked around. He’d gotten so involved in his own thoughts (and the other Cards in the basement never spoke to him) that he’d forgotten they were there. He swallowed.
“Uh... h-hello.” He felt stupid and almost cruel in his casual response, but what else could he say?
“You’re caught up in this too, aren’t you?” asked the very blunt Highland gentleman. The Feline froze, just staring back at the man. The Highlander continued. “Thomas, right? I see the way you are when that son of a bitch isn’t around,” his voice dropped and his expression became softer, “You’re scared.” His expression changed again, almost seeming to say ‘Just like me.’ Thomas turned his body to face the man completely, dropping any need to hide the truth. He was scared, but now he had someone to talk to.
“I... I will do whatever I can to get us out of here,” he blurted out. It was an odd segue His head turned to the unconscious Josiggy-Midrange woman also chained to the floor. However, she was in much worse condition. She was a Heart and refused to have her spirit broken so easy, so Damien took it on himself to break her physically. “I just wish I could heal her up a bit without...” he sighed and lowered his head. He felt useless.
“The bastard cannot hear us. He only puts up spells to track if people have been in here. We can plot all we need. I’m sure between the three of us, we can figure something out.” The Feline’s heart jumped into his throat. He hadn’t even considered that the area could be bugged with magic. Why the hell didn’t he think about that? He shook that thought away.
“Yes,” he said in an excited whisper, a nervous smile crossing his face. He’d almost forgotten what hope felt like.
--
The next few weeks ended up harder than anticipated. When the woman was awake, the refused to cooperate. Requests to simply pretend to be agreeable to Damien so that she could rest and gain her strength for an escape were ridiculed. She had the pride of a Heart and a Midranger with the vitriol for Lowlanders of a Josiggy. A walking stereotype of all the bits and pieces that made up her being. The man was much nicer, trying to explain to her what she misses while she is unconscious. His name was Vincent, hers was Taren.
--
Another week had passed, and Damien had implied that within days they would finally use the two sacrifices as intended. No details as of yet, but either way, they were going to die.
“Are you serious? Days?!” Vincent’s eye became wide. A nod came in response.
“And look, we have no plan. What was that that was promised, Rotter? That promise you’d see us walk free? A job well done, ass,” she spat at him. The Feline had had enough.
“And thank you for your cooperation, Taren! We couldn’t have done it without you!” he hissed. Both Vincent and Taren blinked in surprise at the sudden anger from the normally very quiet and submissive Card. He took a few deep breaths and calmed down. “I’m sorry... I’m sorry. Look. We still have a few days. We still have a chance. Please, Taren. We need you as healthy as we can get you. At this point we need to be available to spring at moment should the opportunity arise,” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “because I’m through waiting and have become willing to cut my losses. Better to save one than lose both because one refuses help.” He sighed. He hated having to say it, but this was just getting ridiculous. Taren stared back at him, indignant and disbelieving. Vincent tried to hide a smile then spoke up.
“Well, looks like I’m going to be safe either way. Why don’t we drum up a plan for you and me, Thomas, while we wait for her to come around?”
--
The days passed, and nothing. Damien kept everything too secure. The only option they could find was a lapse in his watch while they were out. The carriage ride was quiet and very long. Damien didn’t explain what they were doing or where they were going. Taren and Vincent were knocked out under the influence of chemical sedatives. After several hours, nearly a full day and they were in the heart of the Highlands. The carriage came to a stop.
“We’re here,” he said in a cheerful voice, putting on a bracelet, “Do you know what this is, Thomas?”
“...a very fashionable accessory?” Damien laughed.
“Always a sense of humor. No, it’s a magical item that allows me the ability to cast the ability of a Heart: the ability to control the mind of a lesser card,” his crooked grin became quite broad at the sight of wide eyes. Haha, yes. He did so love that reaction, “I had a student of mine a while back infiltrate the Court of Hearts. He managed to get his hands on a few of His Former Highness’ notes. Well, right before he was caught and killed, of course. Too bad.” The nonchalant tone was grating, but must be ignored. “Years ago, Bernard had made four rings imbued with the power of a suit’s power. I managed to work with the scant notes I had and filled in the blanks to make this. It isn’t perfect. That silver-spoon fed Highlander is, sadly, more accomplished than I,” he suddenly laughed, “Well, was.”
He got up out of his seat, beckoning the other to follow and a syringe out of his bag. He left the carriage and circled around to the back where the sleeping victims laid. The pair waited for a few minutes until they began to stir, groggy and confused. Immediately Damien sprung forward, emptying the contents of the syringe into Taren. She fell back asleep, barely breathing. The bracelet glowed and Vincent sat up, his eyes glowing the same color as the bracelet. He could see and hear everything going on around him, and make facial expressions of his own, but nothing else was in his control. He picked up Taren and followed Damien as he walked toward a well. The helpless student followed.
“This well,” Damien began, making grand gestures with his arms, “contains the power to grant wishes. The time is right, and I have my payment...” he turned and smiled, “and yours. I’ve come to like you, Thomas, and have decided it’s your turn to make this trip with me.” Vincent stopped and set Taren down. He sat next to her, awaiting more orders with his glowing eyes and horrified expression. Damien sat on the edge of the well, the glow from within the well illuminating him from below as he looked in, humming something to himself.
He was going to throw these two people. Down a well. All for a wish. Disgust was one way to describe the feeling. He acted before he could think. Activating his Spade ability, he sprinted toward Damien and leaped at him. Damien had no time to react. He felt the weight of an entire body slam into him and he was suddenly falling. His scream fading, echoing off the stone walls of the well. There was no thud.
“THOMAS!” Vincent suddenly called out, the spell broken. The Cat had landed, mid section first on the edge of the well. The wind had been knocked out of him and he scrambled desperately to claw himself over to safety. Vincent sprinted to his aid, strong hands hefting the tawny frame of the Lowlander over onto the grass. They sat on the grass, panting and shaking from the adrenaline rush and pain in this ribs. Both soon after slumped completely to the ground. Vincent began laughing. Thomas turned and vomited. Vincent gave him a sympathetic expression.
“Hey man, lighten up. You made good on your promise.” Thomas just stared back, shaking. He tried to smile, but was unable. “You cut it a little close, but you did.” The man laughed again. Thomas just stood and walked over to the other man. He curled up next to him and purred. Vincent smiled softly and sat up, putting a hand on the Feline’s head.
“C’mon, Thomas. We should start heading back. We’ve all got lives to recover. And we should ambush that driver before he turns this way and realizes what’s happened.”
“You go on ahead. I’m going to spit down that well as my final good bye.” Vincent laughed heartily and stood. As he walked back to the carriage, he cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders. His muscular arms flexed. If the situation had not been what it was, Thomas would have found himself not feeling so guilty for enjoying the sight of it. He went in the opposite direction, toward the well. He put his front paws up onto the edge and he peered in.
“A wishing well, huh?” he muttered to himself, “How about this? I wish... I wish for everything that rot bastard taught me to fade from me arsenal of magical abilities by this year’s end.”
He returned to the carriage. The driver was bound and knocked out. Taren was still unconscious, but loaded on top next to the new driver. The unconscious woman between him and Vincent, the whip was cracked and the horses started.
“Will you come with us?”
Thomas blinked. “What?”
“When you aren’t around, Taren and I talked. We discussed plans after we escaped. More like pipe dreams than anything at the time... I want you to come with us.”
Thomas thought about it for a long time before answering. “No. Thank you, but I cannot. I have a lot of clean up to do. I have to make up for not seeing through his lies sooner.”
“Then catch up to us as soon as you do.” Vincent’s tone was strong and uncompromising. The feeling of the strength of his resolve touched Thomas in a way he hadn’t experienced since...
“Alright. I will.”
--
As he watched the police raid Damien’s place because of the anonymous tip he’d left at the police station, he thought about the people he’d have to leave behind. Brianna and her kooky husband, Riza his best friend and childhood crush... Taren and Vincent. The choices he made in his own life caused him to part from them. Brianna and Riza caught on that there was something wrong... and it had been months since he’d seen them. Vincent never caught on that his new promise was an outright lie.
No, because of their association with him, he had to leave their lives. If any of Damien’s other mystery students wanted revenge on him for what he’d done, all those he loved would be in danger. He had to erase his footsteps and start anew.
“Aww, man! Wicked!”
Thomas smiled at the stoner who owned the apartment overlooking the raid. Thomas had managed to disable most of the protective spells on the building. However, the spectacle of watching the professional mages disable the rest was quite the dramatic light show.
“Thanks again for letting me watch. I really appreciate it.”
“Heyy, maanng! They ain’t done!” Thomas only smiled then whistled to the bander he had in tow. A rescue from the collection of banders awaiting sacrifice. He left quietly, slipping out through the shadows, unseen in the commotion.
--
Epilogue-ish thing
--
A cooking show of her very own! Brianna could not be more excited. She’d been at this for nearly a year now, but it still excited and flustered her. Her audience was waiting, chattering excitedly. She jumped when her dressing room door opened. She leaped to her feet ready to scold whoever would dare barge in without knocking when she froze. Tears began welling up in her eyes. She cried and flung her arms around the intruder.
“Hello, Mom,” he purred.
“Where have you been?! I’ve been worried sick!”
“Aren’t kids supposed to leave the home when they become adults? I’m 22 now! Stop treating me like a kid, I can take care of myself.” There wasn’t a single moment of malicious tone in his voice. If anything, his own voice cracked, holding back a sob. He sniffed when she let him go to shut the door.
“I’m sorry for not saying anything... I got stupid. But everything’s fine now.” She started going on, attempting to scold him through her sobs, but the words were ignored. Listening would only make this harder.
“Find solace in a blank slate...”
“...sweetie?”
“...and make all that is past no more...”
“I—I don’t understand.”
“...find nothing of love or hate...”
“What are you...?”
“...and make now a locked door.” he opened his eyes to watch her expression go blank as the spell locked away selected memories deep inside her subconscious. They couldn’t be unlocked by her. It would take a powerful magician to even find them... if he or she were told they were there to begin with.
“Who—who are you? Why are you in my dressing room?” her expression remained blank as her mind began to recover, searching desperately for an explanation for current events.
“Your security let me through. I wanted an autograph.”
“They did what?” she went through the motions of being indignant, but her face and voice remained blank, “Those ridiculous little... they know I don’t see fans or sign autographs backstage.”
“Please? Will you? I would be ever so appreciative.”
“Well, alright, but don’t tell anyone,” A smile curled the corner of her lips gently as her emotions started coming through.
“Oh thank you! I promise!” he pulled out the book and gave it to her.
“Who should I make it out to, sweetie?” He returned her smile.
“Victor.”
--
Weeks later on a day that rained as if the sky was attempting to flood the world, he knocked on the door of a very small home just on the outer edge of the richer part of the Capitol. A tall, muscular Highland biped answered the door.
“Thomas!” Vincent fell to his knees and embraced his friend. Victor purred.
“Hello, Vincent.”
“Taren! Taren, come look! Thomas came back!” The mixed women poked her head around the corner. She took a deep breathe and entered the foyer.
“Hello,” she nodded. Her toned and posture were terse, but not entirely unwelcoming. He smiled back. Vincent let go of him and put an arm around Taren’s waist. She didn’t seem to much care for being held by the same arms that had just held a Lowlander. Victor felt his heart melt a little. So they found a little love with each other, did they? Good for them!
“Thomas, why don’t you come in? Suits, man, you’re soaked! You’ll catch cold standing out there!”
“I appreciate the gesture, but I must say good bye.” To his surprise both of them expressed at least some level of shock and disappointment. Vincent spoke up.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“This is the last of what I need to clean up. I--! Don’t look at me that way! I only need to speak to you. Damien had other students. They could come after you to harm you and, most likely, come looking for the traitor-student...”
“Thomas. Come inside.” Vincent turned to look at his lover. Neither of the men expected her to be the one to say it. Victor took a in a deep breath.
“Fishy, too?” Vincent tilted his head. A bander trotted out from behind Victor. She sneezed and growled, expressing her dislike for the weather. Taren left, muttering something about towels.
“I think that was a yes. Where did--?” Victor stepped through the doorway, but stayed on the mat. Fishy followed suit.
“Damien’s place. I figured not all of the ones he had caged up should go to the pound when the police found them. I’m just trying to find a home for her myself since I’m finding I can’t care for her,” he gave an apologetic smile, “I don’t mean to be sloughing off my pets on you, but—“
“We’ll take her. Taren’s been dying for a pet,” he laughed and shook his head. Victor smiled until he found a towel had been chucked at his head.
“Dry off, then you can come in,” she wandered off again after throwing the rest of the towels at them, muttering something about a fire.
“You two moved in fast,” he commented, toweling himself off. Vincent laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Long story...”
It wasn’t long before they were all around the fire place, warming up and holding a very weighty conversation.
“...so the police got you city magicians to set up protections for you.”
“Thaat’s right! They saw the level of magic used in that place and spared no expense to protect us. The cost for the city to protect two different locations to that extent would put a strain on the tax dollars, and we both knew we would need each other for companionship given what we went through, so we decided to move in together.” Vincent explained. Taren pet the bander that had made herself comfortable in the woman’s lap.
“Well... good.” Well then, sounds like they don’t need me... “I should be going, then. Me being here will just put a strain on the spells.”
“Don’t be an idiot, Rotter,” snapped Taren in an oddly gentle manner, “It’s storming out there. The least you can do is spend the night.” Victor sighed, smiling. Her tone said there was no arguing with her. They stayed up chatting a bit more before turning in. As he curled up on the bed, he felt grateful. Even if he’d never see these people again, he was grateful for their friendship.
Not the best writing in the world. Certainly not my best work. However, I was getting a little sick of not having this done for the longest time, so I decided to suck it up and bear through the bad writing. About 1/3 of this was written within months of me first getting Victor, and the rest of it was written over the past week or so. :B
Victor is the main, obviously. Some very brief mentions of Bernard and the Police force (Victor is currently 26-ish, so it's the police force as of 5 years ago. If you have a PC that, within the SoD timeline was on the Police force, feel free to have them be a part of the police raid near the end if you want. :3)
Uhhh, not sure what else to say. Enjoy?
The smells coming from that house made him dizzy.
He’d learned to ignore the feeling, just accepting it as a part of his daily routine. However, passing by this house as the scent of cooking meat infused with an intricate array of herb and spices in the marinade wafted over to him, a stabbing pain from his gut shot through him. Immediately his mouth began to water. He stumbled as his vision swam. He was dizzy and in pain. He had never felt tempted to commit theft but… he had no money and he knew there was no food at home. He was suddenly driven by an overwhelming need. He crept up on the house, drool spilling out of his mouth. His sunken eyes were huge with desperation.
A chubby Corvistowne woman by the name of Brianna went to the sink to wash her dishes and hummed. This meal was going to be incredible, she knew it. Today was the day she had an interview with a potential agent. She laughed at the thought of her parents pressuring her into being a doctor. Doctor, shmoctor! Cooking was just as much of a science as anything! She knew it wasn’t a good idea to count her chickens before they were hatched, but she couldn’t help but imagine herself running her own restaurant or catering company… Then the gruesome little child just outside her window jolted her into reality. She gasped and dropped the pots in her hands, their content splattering all over the floor and on her legs and apron. She hardly noticed as she stared in horror at the filthy, emaciated, drooling child on her front lawn. He jumped at her yowl and tripped on himself as he tried to get away. He tried to get to his feet, but he was too tired and weak from malnutrition to do so in a swift manner. Brianna covered her mouth as she watched his pathetic, weak limbs struggle lifting his tiny, skeletal form. She felt like her ribcage was being compressed. This child revolted her, the image of it’s disgusting little figure inside her perfect home made her gag, but how could she not do anything? She wanted to cry just looking at it. She rushed outside to the child and kneeled down before it. He was terrified. This woman was clearly going to punish him for his attempt at stealing her food! His ears were plastered back against his skull and his tail was pinned firmly to his stomach.
“Shhhh, it’s okay little one,” she called gently out to the child only feet away from her, his protruding ribs even more obvious from this distance than before. She fought back tears the entire time. Who in their right mind could let a child get in this state? “I don’t want to hurt you. Would you like something to eat?” At that, the child’s ears shot up. Had he heard wrong? He just stared back at her until she repeated the question. He nodded slowly, still not believing it. He allowed her to pick him up and carry her inside. He purred uncontrollably as he buried his head in her rather ample bosom with the scent of food still lingering in her clothing and fur. She pet him, feeling his ribs. It was like there was paper-thin layer of skin and fur over some bones. Here she was dreaming and praying every night to be blessed with a child while someone else neglected their own.
Well, what else could be expected from Lowlanders?
She knew exactly what would happen if she put a full plate of food in front of him, so she started him off slowly with some milk. While he lapped up the liquid faster than he really should have, she gathered some scraps from the preparation of her meal: Left over bits of lettuce, fruit, cheese, and dressing from her salad, she stole a few hors d’eourves from her platter, and took the ham hock with scraps of meat still on it and gave it to the Kitten. If he wanted more, she would give him some, but what she provided should be more than enough for the tiny little child. She started him with the lighter foods and in small portions to prevent him from gorging and making himself sick. She covered her quivering lip as she watched the pathetic little child began to cry as he devoured the food in front of him. Tears streaked down his filthy cheeks, contaminating the best ham she’d ever made. She was shocked he didn’t choke himself eating. Even with the small portions at a time, he inhaled the food she put in front of him. He looked back up at her after he swallowed the last of the food. He couldn’t begin to express his thanks to her, so he buried his head in her lap, crying and purring at the same time. She just scooped the little Kitten into her arms, careful not to touch the rot on his body, and stroked his head. She couldn’t stop herself from sobbing softly as the little Kitten’s purrs rumbled against her chest. He was so tiny, but he body displayed clearly the neglect he’d been through, neglect which was clearly not self-inflicted. When she finally calmed down again, she spoke to him.
“What’s you’re name, little boy?” she asked softly. He pulled his head from her apron and looked up at her. His tears blazed trails of clean on his dirty face. He squeaked quietly, too shy to give an answer. He was a touch overwhelmed. She was being kind to him? Weren’t people who weren’t Lowlanders cruel to Lowlanders? He became confused, trying to wrap his naive mind around the way the world worked. She just felt that gaze from those big, green eyes pull at her heart. She had time before her interview…
“It’s okay, you don’t have to answer yet,” she said softly. The shock from seeing a child in this state vanished and was replaced by a soft, motherly smile, “Are you still hungry?” The child looked at her, then back down at his stomach, then back up at her.
“M-my stomach hurts, but… I don’t think I’m hungry,” he said, his confusion very apparent. He’d never been full in his life. He’d never seen his stomach bulge out like that before.
“Oh,” she laughed lightly, “That means you ate a little too much, but that’s okay. A nap will make that feeling go away. Did you want a bath, too?” Those ribs were incredibly disturbing, and yet she couldn’t stop touching them. He shook his head.
“If I get soap in my sores, it hurts,” he said pointing to the oozing rot wound on his side. She rubbed the back of his neck.
“What if I promise to be extra careful, hmm? Will you let me? It would make me very happy if you would.” He was going to have a bath whether he wanted one or not. All that filth would just make the rot worse. He took a breath in. He was clearly afraid of the prospect, but he wanted to make her happy since she was such a nice lady. Guilted into it, he nodded in agreement.
The bath wasn’t as bad as he expected. The water was warm and the soap she used smelled a bit like roses. She was gentle with him and got him cleaner than he’d ever seen himself. It felt weird to no longer have that layer of dirt he was used to, like a layer of himself was missing… and yet, it felt so incredible. Then she had something weird in her hands. He’d never seen anything like it.
“Now, this is going to be a little loud, but when you get used to it, you’ll like it a lot,” she assured him. He gave a start when she started it up. She put it on the lowest setting, but it still frightened him. He stared at the lightly wailing machine, then let out a cry when she pointed it at him. He flailed and covered his face. When he was still, he felt nothing but a constant flow of warm air on him. He removed his paws from over his eyes as he realized nothing was hurting him. If anything, it felt really good. Those giant green eyes made the woman laugh. For a member of such an undesirable region, he sure was adorable. A paw came up to swipe at the flow of warm air. The woman laughed and picked up the brush she’d put next to herself.
“Now come here so I can dry you off. If you stay so far away, this won’t work very well,” she said, laughing at the child. He came closer with little hesitation. As she brushed and dried him, he mewled happily. After some time, he was clean, dry, warm, and full. All at once. As the woman lowered her hand to help herself up, she felt a bump against it. Her head snapped around to see what that was. He did it again. He jumped up to rub his head against her hand, only to get a bump. He was purring louder than he’d ever in his life.
“I need to get ready for a very special guest, dear,” she said, patting him on the head before she hoisted herself up, “You can stay if you promise to be good and quiet for a while.”
“Yes!” he squeaked, “I can be quiet for a really long time! But can I have something to play with if it’s a really, really long time?” She smiled as she began cleaning off her legs from her earlier mess first and pimped a little, her previous plans of pulling all the stops slightly hampered.
“Of course I’ll give you a toy. Would you like to help me clean the kitchen first?”
“Yes!” he said with the same amount of excitement as before. Together they left the bathroom and set to work.
--
The interview went smoothly. Not as well as she would’ve hoped as she felt a little preoccupied. She worried if she looked acceptable enough or would be considered slovenly… but most of all she worried that the little Kitten would call attention to himself. She was a damned fool for not sending him out. Surely something raised by Lowlanders would be a disruptive thing. He would get bored and come out… it didn’t help that her interviewer just so happened to be Josiggy… but she kept her worries at bay.
She smiled and waved the man goodbye, then rushed to the room she’d left him in. God, what of her precious things had he broken? She didn’t hear anything, but surely he…
Was fast asleep on the bed.
His ribs rose and fell as his body was twisted in an awkward shape that only a feline could pull off. The toy she’d given him was held close to him in his front paws and the string it came on was wrapped lightly around him. She sighed a breath of relief and smiled. Such a sweet thing he was…
“Child,” she called softly to the boy. He was oblivious, still fast asleep. She sat on the bed and gently stroked one of his paws. “Hey—“ but before the word could come out, the Kitten woke with a violent start. He looked around in confusion, but then he saw the woman again, and pounced right into her lap and began purring again. She pet him as she looked around the room. Absolutely nothing was out of place… What a good child.
“You need to go home now. Your parents will worry about you.” The look she got back from him immediately made her regret those words. He looked almost hurt.
“But…” he began to protest.
“No, you have to go. You can come back, though, I promise.” She wasn’t sure why she said that, but the words just came tumbling out of her. The promise was made before she could stop it. The wide-eyes optimism in his eyes took away her desire to take back that promise. His life was probably miserable back home.
She began to regret her decision to make him go back home when she was standing in the doorway watching him leave. It wasn’t that he was leaving, she knew he’d be back, it was how dark it was. Where there were Lowlanders, there was scum. And scum especially like to come out and play at night.
“Wait!” she called after him. He turned to look back, giving her a questioning look. She took in a breath, and opened the door wider, “Come back inside. It’s too dark for you to go back home all by yourself.” He let out a happy mewl and sprinted inside. She shut the door immediately. If any of her neighbors saw this… Of course she wouldn’t think of the fact that when it was safe for him to leave was the time her neighbors would be out and about and he would be seen leaving her house! She sighed. She couldn’t very well send him out again.
“Come on. There’s an extra room you can stay in. But only for tonight, okay? This is a very special day, but it won’t happen again, okay?” The Kitten nodded in agreement, purring from the trek through the hallway until he fell into a deep slumber cuddled in the sheets of the spare bed.
--
It had become a habit as of late to feed the Kitten and let him stay for a night whenever he came by to visit. It all started a few days after he came back the first time, bringing her flowers and telling her thank you. It was a bouquet of random weeds she knew he picked out of someone’s yard, but it was sweet and she couldn’t help but let him in again.
More time passed, years later. This ritual continued. She’d figured out a good deal of his life by asking him questions. She was able to figure out with her own experience through the boy’s lack of such that his mother sometimes solicited sexual favors for a little bit of pocket money. His father was a drunkard bastard who was abusive and worked a menial job. When he had one, that is. They subsisted off theft and trash, even eventually coercing their child to do the same. Their own child! Bristling, she began teaching the child.
“But stealing is wrong. You shouldn’t do that,” she told him. His ears flattened and his shoulders hunched in his embarrassment.
“I... know, but sometimes that’s the only way I can eat. You’re always so good to me here, but I don’t come here enough to survive...” he muttered, eyes averted. Brianna promptly shut her mouth, unsure how to react. Here she was making him ashamed for something he couldn’t help. He wasn’t old enough to get a job. There were few decent people who would hire a nine year old.
“I, no I’m sorry. It is wrong to steal, but I some times forget the world doesn’t always work the way I wish it would.” Damn the world. Making morals ambiguous. “Listen, I’ve been thinking, Da-“ she was suddenly interrupted by a huge BANG! and smoke coming up from the basement. Moments later a coughing Crane came into view. Another Corvistowne whose marking were yellow when they weren’t obscured by soot.
“Terribly sorry, m’dear,” he scratched the back of his head. “Ah! We have our visitor again! Welcome back... er...” The befuddled gentleman just stood there, unable to remember the name of a child he’d known for four years now. Brianna just shook her head. She loved that man with every scrap of her being, but that didn’t stop her from wondering why.
“Dinner’s almost done, wash up, dear,” she just smiled. He clapped for joy, puffs of smoke coming out of his hands with each clap.
“Excellent! I shall be right up! I just need to go but a few things in a safe place, then I’ll be right back out!” The Crane dashed out of the room. the two remaining in it just gave each other a look.
“I’ll go down to drag him away from whatever he distracted himself with while cleaning up right after I set the table?” he asked. Brianna just laughed and nodded.
--
“Look! Someone’s moving in across the street!” called the boy, now 11, to the woman back in the kitchen. Had he said anything else, she would’ve reminded him that he had asked for a cooking lesson and he needed to get his butt in the kitchen if he wanted to learn. However, she came to the window to look.
“Well I’ll be,” she said. She then gasped and put her hand to her chest when the new tenants came out of the carriage. An Esterberry Mouse, Corvistowne Fox and a gorgeous little mixed girl. A bit dramatic of an action, but they were a lovely looking family. From what she could see from across the street, the little girl had some of the best features of both of her parents’ Breed and Region. She bit her lip to help stop the bubbling envy that began rising as she looked at the little girl.
“We should make something to give to them to welcome them to the neighborhood!” The excited statement startled Brianna out of her thoughts. She smiled at the other Feline and nodded.
“That’s a wonderful idea. What would you like to make for them?”
--
Failed again.
She crumpled the paper and threw it in the trash. What a great way to ruin the great news from her agent about her work becoming recognized by prominent chefs.
“I... don’t live here yet, do I?” asked the twelve year old male. Brianna shook her head, trying to smile. It took effort for her gaze not to find its way back to the waste bin that contained the papers saying her attempt at adoption was not legally possible. Surely there was a law against neglectful, abusive parents!
“Don’t worry, we’ll win this one. Is all your homework done? Your friend Riza wanted to play with you today.” She could’ve laughed at his very obvious blush when he averted his eyes.
“You don’t have to say it like we’re five,” he muttered, “And yes, I’m done!” The last bit was eager. He was very excited to see Riza. He thought his crush on the Corvistowne-Esterberry mix was a secret. It delighted Brianna to the point of giggling like a girl half her age, but it made the girl’s mother uneasy and her father infuriated.
“No, no! Don’t you go anywhere, you know I check it before you go out and play. You sit there and I’ll be there in a second,” she scolded him mildly. He squirmed impatiently as he waited for her.
“Very nice! You got it all right! We’ll convince the school board to let you into our district.” He never ceased to astonish her with how very bright he truly was. He needed a higher education. No wonder the little Esterberry mix took such a liking to him, “Go play. But reme—hey! don’t be in such a rush! She’s not going anywhere! Remember to be polite around Mr. Tyler. You’re a good kid and he needs to see that,” she said, walking over to him to give him a kiss on the forehead. He nodded. He wanted very much for her family to like him! He ran off across the street to find Riza.
--
Brianna sat on the couch, hugging her knees to her chest. His rot had been getting worse. She’d done the research. The rate it spread on him was considered fast. His life expectancy was low. She did everything she could while he was here, kept him clean, well fed, and healthy, but she couldn’t do anything for when he was home. Apparently his home was in a slum that experience frequent sewage ruptures. It was constantly moist and heavily polluted.
She watched him roll a ball back and forth between himself and his friend. There had to be something she could do for him...
--
“Well hello there,” greeted a voice from behind him. The fourteen year old Feline turned his head to see another Lowlander. Biped, pine martin the rank and suit were covered by the silk vest and dark cape.
“Um, Hello! Are you lost?” he was sure if there was another Lowlander on this street, he would have heard a pretty big deal being made out of it. His tail twitched as he looked up from his magic book.
“No. I believe I have found what I need,” he laughed with a crooked smile, “You enjoying that book?”
“Uh, yeah. Why do you ask?” this guy was giving him creepy vibes.
“Oh, no reason. I just have an interest in studying magic as well. Thought there might be some common ground shared. They call me Damien. May I ask your name?” he asked with a grin, leaning over the fence. Serious creepy vibes. There was a rule of magic that stated never give your real name. It gave people power over you. It was an old rule and often went unheeded, but there was merit in the argument. It was good to be safe.
“I-it’s Thomas, sir. Thomas Baker,” he pulled the name out of thin air. The man smiled again, echoing the name.
“Thomas. It’s a pleasure meeting you. I hope our paths cross again soon,” he nodded and shuffled off and the woman watching from the kitchen window went to the door. Corvistownes. Obnoxious little busy bodies. Though she was a Feline, like the boy. Possibly a parent. Made him vaguely interested in who would be screwing a Lowlander and still be able to move into a neighborhood like this, but he was getting far too many looks from passersby. He would be back. He finally found the source of all that energy and it would be his.
--
It hadn’t taken long for Damien to convince ‘Thomas’ to come under his tutelage. He knew he had to approach the Feline very carefully. He still had a strong sense of morals and needed to be eased into full practice of Black Magic. For now he was simply teaching magic. The slippery slope will begin. From self defense to revenge to malice, the temptations will bring him down the path. Morals made ambiguous will be the key. Turn his thirst for knowledge into a force to be reckoned with, undeterred by the myth of ‘morality’.
The kid had the natural talent and the drive. The few things that stood in his way would soon be removed.
--
The boy woke with a start. He’d dreamed of blood of his hands, a Card screaming. The week before he’d learned a spell that involved sacrificing a bander to make it work. Ever since then, he’d been plagued with nightmares. Always so vivid and brutal, every time he woke in a cold sweat the disorientation of waking from such a dream leaving him panicked, believing for a few moments he was actually covered in blood. Since then he’d started having doubts about his ‘mentor’ of the past few years and his teachings.
He learned the man had a few more students that he did not allow to meet each other. He learned that he had a whole secret basement that he punished his students for severely if they found out, then cast a spell to make them forget. ‘Thomas’ only knew because he’d managed to break out of the spell after a year had passed from it being cast. If Damien was hiding his own memories from him, what else was he hiding?
He’d begun to suspect Damien also had some kind of spell on the area, blocking out the neighbor’s perception of.. something. What was Damien doing that he didn’t want the neighbors to hear, smell or see? True, everyone had a right to privacy, but if his suspicions were correct, then why all the extra protection? The young Cat ruled out wild dance parties. Damien couldn’t stand loud noise.
He curled up, trying to fall back asleep. His mind buzzed. Too many unanswered questions dragged him away from the sleep his exhausted mind and body desired.
--
“THOMAS! What the HELL are you doing down here?!”
Caught the second time. Some sleuth. You’d think a Feline would be naturally decent at stealth.
“I accidentally broke through the spell you have set up on this place that blocks out the sound of screaming coming from your basement.” He wanted to mention off-hand something implied he’d no idea this was down here, but the man was a Diamond. He had to find a way to dance around the subject discreetly or find a way to imply the untruth without outright lying. Damien simply blinked. He’d managed to break through it?
“Despite my anger at your disobeying direct orders, I must say I am impressed.” Ah, a shiny change of topic. If only he could physically breathe a sigh of relief.
“What is this place?” His mentor tensed, eyeing his student for a long time before relaxing.
“I think you’re ready. This place is where I accomplish my most advanced magic.”
“Who are these people?” he kept his tone and manner as neutral as possible. It was hard, as he felt beyond disgusted at this moment at both himself and his mentor. The man puffed proudly.
“Sacrifices for the most advanced of magic. For work that’s beyond the simple blood of a bander or tove,” he looked proudly at his student, his face falling a little when he gave no reaction. An eyebrow raised, “Thomas?”
“Teach me.” It was the last thing he wanted then, but he couldn’t let on his disapproval. Being the second time he’s crossed into forbidden territory, he wouldn’t be surprised if his life would be considered forfeit if he didn’t pretend. His mentor smiled broadly and laughed.
“I always had the highest hopes for you, Thomas.”
--
He’d been put to work caring for the Card sacrifices that would be used in future rituals, not allowed to have an active role in any of the rituals. He was fine with that. He knew he wouldn’t be able to maintain his composure had he even been forced to watch one. He had to find a way to get out and take the living with him. He figured out one way he could get himself out, but how could he take the Cards out from the man’s lair without him noticing? Think. Think!
“Hey.”
The Cat jumped at the voice and looked around. He’d gotten so involved in his own thoughts (and the other Cards in the basement never spoke to him) that he’d forgotten they were there. He swallowed.
“Uh... h-hello.” He felt stupid and almost cruel in his casual response, but what else could he say?
“You’re caught up in this too, aren’t you?” asked the very blunt Highland gentleman. The Feline froze, just staring back at the man. The Highlander continued. “Thomas, right? I see the way you are when that son of a bitch isn’t around,” his voice dropped and his expression became softer, “You’re scared.” His expression changed again, almost seeming to say ‘Just like me.’ Thomas turned his body to face the man completely, dropping any need to hide the truth. He was scared, but now he had someone to talk to.
“I... I will do whatever I can to get us out of here,” he blurted out. It was an odd segue His head turned to the unconscious Josiggy-Midrange woman also chained to the floor. However, she was in much worse condition. She was a Heart and refused to have her spirit broken so easy, so Damien took it on himself to break her physically. “I just wish I could heal her up a bit without...” he sighed and lowered his head. He felt useless.
“The bastard cannot hear us. He only puts up spells to track if people have been in here. We can plot all we need. I’m sure between the three of us, we can figure something out.” The Feline’s heart jumped into his throat. He hadn’t even considered that the area could be bugged with magic. Why the hell didn’t he think about that? He shook that thought away.
“Yes,” he said in an excited whisper, a nervous smile crossing his face. He’d almost forgotten what hope felt like.
--
The next few weeks ended up harder than anticipated. When the woman was awake, the refused to cooperate. Requests to simply pretend to be agreeable to Damien so that she could rest and gain her strength for an escape were ridiculed. She had the pride of a Heart and a Midranger with the vitriol for Lowlanders of a Josiggy. A walking stereotype of all the bits and pieces that made up her being. The man was much nicer, trying to explain to her what she misses while she is unconscious. His name was Vincent, hers was Taren.
--
Another week had passed, and Damien had implied that within days they would finally use the two sacrifices as intended. No details as of yet, but either way, they were going to die.
“Are you serious? Days?!” Vincent’s eye became wide. A nod came in response.
“And look, we have no plan. What was that that was promised, Rotter? That promise you’d see us walk free? A job well done, ass,” she spat at him. The Feline had had enough.
“And thank you for your cooperation, Taren! We couldn’t have done it without you!” he hissed. Both Vincent and Taren blinked in surprise at the sudden anger from the normally very quiet and submissive Card. He took a few deep breaths and calmed down. “I’m sorry... I’m sorry. Look. We still have a few days. We still have a chance. Please, Taren. We need you as healthy as we can get you. At this point we need to be available to spring at moment should the opportunity arise,” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “because I’m through waiting and have become willing to cut my losses. Better to save one than lose both because one refuses help.” He sighed. He hated having to say it, but this was just getting ridiculous. Taren stared back at him, indignant and disbelieving. Vincent tried to hide a smile then spoke up.
“Well, looks like I’m going to be safe either way. Why don’t we drum up a plan for you and me, Thomas, while we wait for her to come around?”
--
The days passed, and nothing. Damien kept everything too secure. The only option they could find was a lapse in his watch while they were out. The carriage ride was quiet and very long. Damien didn’t explain what they were doing or where they were going. Taren and Vincent were knocked out under the influence of chemical sedatives. After several hours, nearly a full day and they were in the heart of the Highlands. The carriage came to a stop.
“We’re here,” he said in a cheerful voice, putting on a bracelet, “Do you know what this is, Thomas?”
“...a very fashionable accessory?” Damien laughed.
“Always a sense of humor. No, it’s a magical item that allows me the ability to cast the ability of a Heart: the ability to control the mind of a lesser card,” his crooked grin became quite broad at the sight of wide eyes. Haha, yes. He did so love that reaction, “I had a student of mine a while back infiltrate the Court of Hearts. He managed to get his hands on a few of His Former Highness’ notes. Well, right before he was caught and killed, of course. Too bad.” The nonchalant tone was grating, but must be ignored. “Years ago, Bernard had made four rings imbued with the power of a suit’s power. I managed to work with the scant notes I had and filled in the blanks to make this. It isn’t perfect. That silver-spoon fed Highlander is, sadly, more accomplished than I,” he suddenly laughed, “Well, was.”
He got up out of his seat, beckoning the other to follow and a syringe out of his bag. He left the carriage and circled around to the back where the sleeping victims laid. The pair waited for a few minutes until they began to stir, groggy and confused. Immediately Damien sprung forward, emptying the contents of the syringe into Taren. She fell back asleep, barely breathing. The bracelet glowed and Vincent sat up, his eyes glowing the same color as the bracelet. He could see and hear everything going on around him, and make facial expressions of his own, but nothing else was in his control. He picked up Taren and followed Damien as he walked toward a well. The helpless student followed.
“This well,” Damien began, making grand gestures with his arms, “contains the power to grant wishes. The time is right, and I have my payment...” he turned and smiled, “and yours. I’ve come to like you, Thomas, and have decided it’s your turn to make this trip with me.” Vincent stopped and set Taren down. He sat next to her, awaiting more orders with his glowing eyes and horrified expression. Damien sat on the edge of the well, the glow from within the well illuminating him from below as he looked in, humming something to himself.
He was going to throw these two people. Down a well. All for a wish. Disgust was one way to describe the feeling. He acted before he could think. Activating his Spade ability, he sprinted toward Damien and leaped at him. Damien had no time to react. He felt the weight of an entire body slam into him and he was suddenly falling. His scream fading, echoing off the stone walls of the well. There was no thud.
“THOMAS!” Vincent suddenly called out, the spell broken. The Cat had landed, mid section first on the edge of the well. The wind had been knocked out of him and he scrambled desperately to claw himself over to safety. Vincent sprinted to his aid, strong hands hefting the tawny frame of the Lowlander over onto the grass. They sat on the grass, panting and shaking from the adrenaline rush and pain in this ribs. Both soon after slumped completely to the ground. Vincent began laughing. Thomas turned and vomited. Vincent gave him a sympathetic expression.
“Hey man, lighten up. You made good on your promise.” Thomas just stared back, shaking. He tried to smile, but was unable. “You cut it a little close, but you did.” The man laughed again. Thomas just stood and walked over to the other man. He curled up next to him and purred. Vincent smiled softly and sat up, putting a hand on the Feline’s head.
“C’mon, Thomas. We should start heading back. We’ve all got lives to recover. And we should ambush that driver before he turns this way and realizes what’s happened.”
“You go on ahead. I’m going to spit down that well as my final good bye.” Vincent laughed heartily and stood. As he walked back to the carriage, he cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders. His muscular arms flexed. If the situation had not been what it was, Thomas would have found himself not feeling so guilty for enjoying the sight of it. He went in the opposite direction, toward the well. He put his front paws up onto the edge and he peered in.
“A wishing well, huh?” he muttered to himself, “How about this? I wish... I wish for everything that rot bastard taught me to fade from me arsenal of magical abilities by this year’s end.”
He returned to the carriage. The driver was bound and knocked out. Taren was still unconscious, but loaded on top next to the new driver. The unconscious woman between him and Vincent, the whip was cracked and the horses started.
“Will you come with us?”
Thomas blinked. “What?”
“When you aren’t around, Taren and I talked. We discussed plans after we escaped. More like pipe dreams than anything at the time... I want you to come with us.”
Thomas thought about it for a long time before answering. “No. Thank you, but I cannot. I have a lot of clean up to do. I have to make up for not seeing through his lies sooner.”
“Then catch up to us as soon as you do.” Vincent’s tone was strong and uncompromising. The feeling of the strength of his resolve touched Thomas in a way he hadn’t experienced since...
“Alright. I will.”
--
As he watched the police raid Damien’s place because of the anonymous tip he’d left at the police station, he thought about the people he’d have to leave behind. Brianna and her kooky husband, Riza his best friend and childhood crush... Taren and Vincent. The choices he made in his own life caused him to part from them. Brianna and Riza caught on that there was something wrong... and it had been months since he’d seen them. Vincent never caught on that his new promise was an outright lie.
No, because of their association with him, he had to leave their lives. If any of Damien’s other mystery students wanted revenge on him for what he’d done, all those he loved would be in danger. He had to erase his footsteps and start anew.
“Aww, man! Wicked!”
Thomas smiled at the stoner who owned the apartment overlooking the raid. Thomas had managed to disable most of the protective spells on the building. However, the spectacle of watching the professional mages disable the rest was quite the dramatic light show.
“Thanks again for letting me watch. I really appreciate it.”
“Heyy, maanng! They ain’t done!” Thomas only smiled then whistled to the bander he had in tow. A rescue from the collection of banders awaiting sacrifice. He left quietly, slipping out through the shadows, unseen in the commotion.
--
Epilogue-ish thing
--
A cooking show of her very own! Brianna could not be more excited. She’d been at this for nearly a year now, but it still excited and flustered her. Her audience was waiting, chattering excitedly. She jumped when her dressing room door opened. She leaped to her feet ready to scold whoever would dare barge in without knocking when she froze. Tears began welling up in her eyes. She cried and flung her arms around the intruder.
“Hello, Mom,” he purred.
“Where have you been?! I’ve been worried sick!”
“Aren’t kids supposed to leave the home when they become adults? I’m 22 now! Stop treating me like a kid, I can take care of myself.” There wasn’t a single moment of malicious tone in his voice. If anything, his own voice cracked, holding back a sob. He sniffed when she let him go to shut the door.
“I’m sorry for not saying anything... I got stupid. But everything’s fine now.” She started going on, attempting to scold him through her sobs, but the words were ignored. Listening would only make this harder.
“Find solace in a blank slate...”
“...sweetie?”
“...and make all that is past no more...”
“I—I don’t understand.”
“...find nothing of love or hate...”
“What are you...?”
“...and make now a locked door.” he opened his eyes to watch her expression go blank as the spell locked away selected memories deep inside her subconscious. They couldn’t be unlocked by her. It would take a powerful magician to even find them... if he or she were told they were there to begin with.
“Who—who are you? Why are you in my dressing room?” her expression remained blank as her mind began to recover, searching desperately for an explanation for current events.
“Your security let me through. I wanted an autograph.”
“They did what?” she went through the motions of being indignant, but her face and voice remained blank, “Those ridiculous little... they know I don’t see fans or sign autographs backstage.”
“Please? Will you? I would be ever so appreciative.”
“Well, alright, but don’t tell anyone,” A smile curled the corner of her lips gently as her emotions started coming through.
“Oh thank you! I promise!” he pulled out the book and gave it to her.
“Who should I make it out to, sweetie?” He returned her smile.
“Victor.”
--
Weeks later on a day that rained as if the sky was attempting to flood the world, he knocked on the door of a very small home just on the outer edge of the richer part of the Capitol. A tall, muscular Highland biped answered the door.
“Thomas!” Vincent fell to his knees and embraced his friend. Victor purred.
“Hello, Vincent.”
“Taren! Taren, come look! Thomas came back!” The mixed women poked her head around the corner. She took a deep breathe and entered the foyer.
“Hello,” she nodded. Her toned and posture were terse, but not entirely unwelcoming. He smiled back. Vincent let go of him and put an arm around Taren’s waist. She didn’t seem to much care for being held by the same arms that had just held a Lowlander. Victor felt his heart melt a little. So they found a little love with each other, did they? Good for them!
“Thomas, why don’t you come in? Suits, man, you’re soaked! You’ll catch cold standing out there!”
“I appreciate the gesture, but I must say good bye.” To his surprise both of them expressed at least some level of shock and disappointment. Vincent spoke up.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“This is the last of what I need to clean up. I--! Don’t look at me that way! I only need to speak to you. Damien had other students. They could come after you to harm you and, most likely, come looking for the traitor-student...”
“Thomas. Come inside.” Vincent turned to look at his lover. Neither of the men expected her to be the one to say it. Victor took a in a deep breath.
“Fishy, too?” Vincent tilted his head. A bander trotted out from behind Victor. She sneezed and growled, expressing her dislike for the weather. Taren left, muttering something about towels.
“I think that was a yes. Where did--?” Victor stepped through the doorway, but stayed on the mat. Fishy followed suit.
“Damien’s place. I figured not all of the ones he had caged up should go to the pound when the police found them. I’m just trying to find a home for her myself since I’m finding I can’t care for her,” he gave an apologetic smile, “I don’t mean to be sloughing off my pets on you, but—“
“We’ll take her. Taren’s been dying for a pet,” he laughed and shook his head. Victor smiled until he found a towel had been chucked at his head.
“Dry off, then you can come in,” she wandered off again after throwing the rest of the towels at them, muttering something about a fire.
“You two moved in fast,” he commented, toweling himself off. Vincent laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Long story...”
It wasn’t long before they were all around the fire place, warming up and holding a very weighty conversation.
“...so the police got you city magicians to set up protections for you.”
“Thaat’s right! They saw the level of magic used in that place and spared no expense to protect us. The cost for the city to protect two different locations to that extent would put a strain on the tax dollars, and we both knew we would need each other for companionship given what we went through, so we decided to move in together.” Vincent explained. Taren pet the bander that had made herself comfortable in the woman’s lap.
“Well... good.” Well then, sounds like they don’t need me... “I should be going, then. Me being here will just put a strain on the spells.”
“Don’t be an idiot, Rotter,” snapped Taren in an oddly gentle manner, “It’s storming out there. The least you can do is spend the night.” Victor sighed, smiling. Her tone said there was no arguing with her. They stayed up chatting a bit more before turning in. As he curled up on the bed, he felt grateful. Even if he’d never see these people again, he was grateful for their friendship.
