Masquerade of Life and Death: Eternal Nocturne

[Lop]

There's something to be said about escapist fantasy. I live in a world where it's everywhere; stories of people traveling to magical worlds, or dying and being reincarnated with special powers with their memories intact. Complete nonsense of course, there are no magic wardrobes or mirrors, and if reincarnation exists it's nothing like the modern power fantasies depict it to be. But there is a reason for all the escapism stories that pervade fiction. My world is…difficult, in a lot of different ways. Who wouldn't want to travel to another place where they have freedom from the drudgery and expectations of modern life, and maybe some power and agency for once in their miserable existence? It's not exactly healthy to be spending so much time dreaming of such things, but eh, who can blame them. You'd understand if you lived there.

That's not to say I was one of the dreamers. I'm a practical person, and science fiction and fantasy are luxuries I can't afford. Or more accurately, I'm not interested in them. Games, comics, toys, what's the point right? Reading them doesn't pay the bills, and I'm an adult with an adult job and adult responsibilities. I have no time for what-ifs, especially since the point of life is to gather as much capital as you can and escape before the world burns. Cynical, I know, but as they say, a cynic will always see the world as it is, and never as it could be. Get it? Not a dreamer. Don't care about other worlds or the magic of fiction, couldn't give a rat's ass about the people who pour their whole lives into it, and certainly don't have time for daydreaming.

So I consider it the height of irony that I, of all fucking people, left my world and went to another. And I didn't just leave it. Oh no, I died. In a horrible, ugly manner, in a way I never thought possible for someone of my station and temperament, in a way that sends shivers down whatever passes for my body when I remember it. And what did I find after death? Not heaven, not hell, not reincarnation, but nothingness. An empty void with no end. No feelings, no scenery, just my memories and thoughts. Let me tell you, after an eternity of that I would have gladly preferred non-existence. But really who can say how long I was actually there. The only way to tell the passage of time in a place like that was how many thoughts you managed to think. Luckily for me, the void changed. Nothingness became somethingness, my non-form became a form, and my senses returned. Albeit, in quite a different manner from when I was alive. If I had to guess, I'm a spirit now, or perhaps a ghost. That's the only thing that makes sense, considering my rather translucent appearance and the fact that I can pass through physical objects. But where am I and why am I here? I can't even begin to guess. Well, yes I can, at least for the latter question. I think my existence now has something to do with my death. Everyone else gets to move on to the afterlife, but not me. Not after how I died. But what do you guys think? Maybe you can shed some light on my new existence, and explain what the hell is going on…



Langdon Drake finished speaking. There was a moment of silence as those gathered around him stared with wide-eyes, then they all began to clap. It was a strange sound, muted, hollow. The spirit frowned, displeased with the response. He hadn't told the story to entertain them. He told them because they looked like they expected an introduction. His audience in question resembled him; their bodies were ethereal and ghostly, though their clothing made it clear Langdon was no longer on earth. If he had to put a name to it, he would say they wore renaissance clothing, or perhaps garments from a few centuries later. He wasn't a historian, so he could only guess. The other ghosts were all manner of men, women, and children. Some wore rich, ghostly fabrics with ruffles and intricate patterns and floppy hats. Others looked like what Langdon imagined when he heard the word 'milk maid', or poor medieval peasants. They all had various wounds that had surely led to their deaths. Some had stab wounds, with faded blood trickling out and pooling on the floor before disappearing in a mist. Then there were those who held their heads, having clearly been decapitated. Still others looked stricken with disease, complete with pus-ridden faces and jaundice, or their ears, nose, and lips rotted off. Langdon felt sorry for them. Not even death would allow them to appear as their ideal selves. He could only guess what he looked like, considering how he had died. At least they weren't judging him as much as he was judging them.

"Bravo!" a voice said. "An excellent story sir!"

Langdon looked in the direction of the voice. A man stood among the ghosts, though he didn't resemble them. His form was certainly that of a spirit, but brighter. A glowing sphere pumped within in his chest, and his eyes flickered with a strange light. His wide grin was illuminated in such a manner that it made him appear dazzling. He had no clothes, nor wounds, just mist that congealed around him like a layered robe. Langdon furrowed his brow in suspicion.

"Are you a ghost too?"

The glowing spirit shook his head, his grin remaining. "Not at all sir, I cannot claim to have cast off all the moorings tying me to my body, at least not yet."

Langdon studied the glowing spirit. "Well then, perhaps you can explain what the hell is going on? Where am I?"

The glowing spirit chuckled. He was young, handsome, there could be no doubt. His smile gave him a roguish look that was greatly aided by his foppish hair. "Well you're certainly not in your world by the sound of it…"

Langdon glanced around. There wasn't much light, but for whatever reason he could see just fine. They were in a stone tunnel, almost like an old, European catacomb, or perhaps a sewer. The muddied floor contained large pools of water interspaced with jagged stones sticking up from the ground, and the occasional growth of weeds. Langdon exhaled, though it was more for the effect than the necessity to breath. "No…no I am clearly not in my world. Although I do find it interesting we're speaking the same language, and the clothing of everyone here looks like something out of my world's past." He nodded at the glowing spirit. "Well, except for you of course. You look like some sort of Greek god with all that light and misty wrappings."

The glowing spirit's grin widened. "Who can answer any of the mysteries of heaven and earth, even after death my friend. And as for me, I already mentioned I'm not quite free of my mortal form just yet…"

"That so," Langdon said, still unsatisfied. "Then care to answer my question? Where am I?"

"You are currently under the great and unrivaled city Baccilae, in the kingdom of Serocia," the glowing spirit gestured, as if presenting the damp, stone sewer. "And down here you will find all manner of specters and shadows of the living."

"Ah," Langdon said. He glanced at the crowd of ghosts. They stared at him eagerly, as if waiting for him to tell another story. He still wasn't sure if they could talk. Langdon turned his attention back to the glowing spirit. "And who are you?"

The spirit bowed, sweeping his arm to the side and holding the other against his stomach. "Ariedisuss Bordo," he straightened back up and winked. "But my friends call me Ari."

Langdon didn't respond for a moment, instead once again studying the glowing spirit. "Alright," he said. The spirit accepted everything he'd been told as fact. What else could he do? "Are you the only one who can talk?"

Ariedisuss frowned and gave a slight shrug. "Who knows? I am no philosopher or sorcerer, not even an amateur alchemist. The answers to the greater mysteries are unknown to me. But I can say neither you nor I belong among their number."

The crowd of ghosts didn't respond, instead watching Langdon with the same enraptured expressions they'd wore since he appeared out of the void. The spirit scratched at his hair, more out of habit than any need to address an itch. He stopped when he felt a crevice and a bit of his brain. "Well," Langdon said, quickly putting his hand back at his side. "You've told me your name, and you claim you're not a ghost. What are you then?"

Ariedissus's grin returned. "Would you like to see? It's certainly better than lingering here, I assure you. Ghosts are…" he glanced at the crowd. "A rather unpredictable lot…"

Langdon gave the gathering one more look, then approached the glowing spirit. "Lead the way Ariedi…Arida…"

"Ari," the glowing spirit said. He slipped his arm into Langdon's and walked him towards the curved sewer wall, as if they were old friends. "Right this way, sir…?"

"Langdon Drake."

"Sounds Abrinthian!" Ariedissus said as they passed through the wall into darkness.

"If you say so…" Langdon replied. He glanced over his shoulder, but the ghosts did not appear to be following them. They walked for a few minutes in total darkness. Ariedissus seemed content to hum, and Langdon wasn't eager to talk again yet. He mulled over everything he had learned so far. There was no doubt everything had a certain…renaissance feel to it. Even Ariedissus's accent sounded vaguely Italian. Was Langdon really in another world? Or was this simply a hallucination as he lay dying back on earth? The spirit shook his head. No, he still remembered the void. That had been real enough. And although everything did look familiar, it was just different enough to evoke an eerie, alien world. And Langdon was the last person on earth who was capable of imaging anything like he was seeing.

The darkness ended abruptly, replaced by a rectangular space. It lay lengthwise, with Langdon and Ariedissus's upper torsos sticking up in it, and the rest of them buried beneath it. Their forms intermingled with a body laying within the rectangular space. It took a moment, but Langdon realized they were submerged in a stone coffin. The corpse within it wore a fanciful doublet with puffy shoulders that peeked out from a luxurious cloak. Their legs were wrapped in tights detailed with gilded patterns, and their face was covered by what Langdon could only describe as a demonic carnival mask. The red nose extended so long as to bend slightly against the top of the stone coffin. The figure's hands were folded atop its stomach and adorned with jeweled rings, and on its head rested a floppy hat with a faded feather stuck in it.

"What…?" Langdon said, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"Forgive me my friend," Ariedissus said. With a single, quick movement, he reached within his own translucent body and tore out the glowing sphere within. He then shoved it into Langdon, let go, and pushed the spirit into the body in the coffin. Langdon felt a sucking motion, as if he were being pulled out down into a swirling drain. His whole world tumbled, and then suddenly he felt heavy. Very very heavy. And more than that even. Langdon felt everything. The cool stone, the stale air, his organs, his blood, everything. He opened his eyes, but only saw darkness and Ariedissus's ghostly figure through two tiny slits. Langdon tried to speak, but his throat was parched, and the words wouldn't form. Ariedissus was no longer glowing, though his expression was still somehow visible in the pitch darkness. "As I said, forgive me my friend. The words you spoke when you first arrived greatly moved me. Escapism, was it?" Ariedissus nodded. "Yes, escapism, that was the word you used. You may not understand the desire to escape, but I understand it more than you could possibly know. I have felt trapped all my life, and each day that I experience adds a new shackle to my soul. I have hardly ever dared to dream of another world, but since meeting you I realize that it is in fact possible. For you are no ghost or spirit, despite you claiming to have died. And you escaped and came here, so why can't I do the same? So I ask, nay, demand, that you take my place, and live my life, so that I may move on and experience the world as I have always secretly wished to."

Langdon was furious. He hadn't exactly enjoyed being a ghost, or a formless nothing in the void. But being tricked in a new world? That was something he could not abide. "bas…" he managed to croak. "bastard!" he shoved at Ariedissus, but his hands passed through the spirit and hit the top of the stone coffin. It shuddered, loosing bits of gravel and dust.

"No need to struggle my friend, you will be released shortly."

Langdon whetted his mouth, desperate to spit curses and questions. "what…" he began.

"Ah," Ariedissus said, holding up a finger as he floated in the coffin. "I suppose I should explain some things. It is very important you do your best to live my life, and not try anything foolish. I serve a very dangerous master you see, and I would not advise doing anything to invoke his wrath." The spirit grimaced. "There are so many things worse than death, after all, and he is versed in the application of all of them…"

Langdon scowled behind the mask. He tried to move his body, but he met the confines of the coffin everywhere he shifted. "why…" he managed to gasp, finding breathing difficult.

"I already explained that. I can no longer bear my existence, so now I pass it along to you," Ariedissus shrugged. "I know it's unfair, but perhaps you will do better in this world than I did. Now, back to the explanation. You are now Ariedissus Bordo, and I again suggest taking that to heart. You are…hmm, how should I explain this…a noble of sorts, though a very minor one. You serve a master known as the Marquis of Pain, and you have no family to speak of except the others who serve your master. Though," Ariedissus flashed an apologetic grin. "I doubt you'll enjoy their company much. Nobles such as ourselves are twisted and dangerous, and undoubtedly devoid of any emotion one could actually deem 'noble'. You've spent the last year in this coffin undergoing a transformation, and are about to emerge a changed man. Well, not a man in the strictest sense really…"

Langdon blinked. "I'm…" his voice came out steadier than it had, and now he was able to express his anger. "I'm a vampire??"

Ariedissus chuckled. "No no, you are not undead. I was able to separate my spirit from my body out of sheer desperation and boredom, but I was still alive while I was doing it. No, you are what's known as a shadow servant, though the name means very little. Just an amusing moniker given to us by others. You are a mortal, albeit gifted by the Marquis with power. Ah, though I should mention those powers are greatly diminished during the day, so it's best if you only move about outside this crypt at night."

Langdon grit his teeth. "So I am a vampire!"

"Please my fine replacement, you are not in the slightest! You have blood pumping through your veins same as any man. But in truth Baccilae is a very dangerous city, and I would not advise trusting your fate to the kindness and inclination of strangers you meet on the street. There is murder and strife even when the sun is at its brightest."

They were interrupted by the stone lid shifting. More dust trailed down into the coffin.

"Ah," Ariedissus said. "It seems it is time for you to rise. One last thing. Your powers, such as they were, give life to the lifeless. I cannot go so far as to say they are unique, but they are certainly on the rarer side. You'll understand what I mean shortly. For now, farewell Sir Bordo, and from the bottom of my heart, thank you for giving me this opportunity to escape my fate. I know you will likely resent me for this, but please do not dwell on such feelings. With enough cunning, you may very well learn to enjoy your life. You yourself claimed, after all, that you are a practical man not given to dreams of escapism, which makes you already a better caliber of person than me." Arieddissus bowed, then began lowering beneath the coffin.

"WAIT!" Langdon yelled. The coffin lid shifted again, letting in rays of orange light.

"Good luck Sir Bordo," the spirit said, then sank out of sight.

"DAMN YOU!" Langdon yelled, his voice echoing under his mask. The lid shifted, shaking the coffin and dislodging any loose debris that remained. Langdon closed his eyes as light spilled over him. The man blinked, then felt a pair of hands reach in and grab his arms. He allowed himself to be pulled into an upright position. When he opened his eyes, he was no longer himself.

He was Ariedissus Bordo.

Ari took a moment to compose himself. Deep breaths, clenching and unclenching of his fists, his former life was already slipping away from him. He didn't want it to leave. He didn't want to be the man known as Ariedissus. He wanted to go back to his old life on earth, before he had died. He wanted the world of familiar things such as finance jobs, subscription services, and fast food. Not this hellish renaissance world of ghosts and vampires. Ari resisted an angry shudder.

"Sir?" a raspy voice said. Ari glanced to the side. Through the eye-slits in his mask he could see a strange figure standing beside the coffin. It was a hunched man, wearing a worn and faded doublet jacket that bulged at the seams, and a burlap hood that cast most of his features in shadow. He was one of the ugliest men Ari had ever seen.

No, stop, that's ableist.

Ableist? Ari blinked. What the hell did that word mean? He could hardly remember. He strained, desperate for it to come back to him.

For man is concerned with the outward appearance, but the Lord is concerned only with what lies in the heart.

That's right, Ari remembered now. He had been working on not judging in his previous life. He couldn't forget that. He couldn't forget who he had been.

But what had been his name again…?

"Sir?" the hunched man repeated. He wrung his hands, clearly worried.

"Hmph," Ari said, clearing his throat. He looked around. There were a few torches lit, but even despite the extensive shadows the man could see perfectly well in the darkness. He was in a large stone chamber, with a vaulted stone ceiling and the ruins of arches and statues lining the walls. But the crumbling stone wasn't what drew his attention. No. Ari slowly looked up. Hanging from the ceiling were hundreds of figures. The longer he stared, the more he could make out their features. Finally he understood what he saw.

Life-size puppets, with painted features and clothing.

Ari tilted his head slightly, confused. There were harlequin clowns, maidens in simple dresses, knights, and animals. All wood. All still. "What the fuck is that," Ari said, his voice still raw. He found he remembered his old self when he swore. He would have to remember to do it often.

The hunched man turned and followed Ari's gaze. "Ah," he said, a relieved smile appearing on his misshapen face. "Those would be your servants my lord, ready to be bestowed with your power and brought to life."

"Servants…" Ari repeated. "You mean those puppets?"

The hunched man nodded eagerly. "Yes my lord! Gifted to you by the Marquis, for your awakening!"

Ari scowled. He didn't like puppets. He certainly didn't like these puppets. They were as big as a person or animal they were meant to resemble, and their lifeless eyes stared off at nothing as they hung from their strings. Ari gripped the sides of the coffin and tried to let himself out.

"Allow me sir!" the hunched man said. He quickly tried to assist, but Ari waved him away as he climbed out.

"Who are you?"

The hunched man bowed quickly. "Dik my lord, your ever-faithful servant!"

Ari snorted as straightened up in the stone coffin, then shook his head. No judging, remember? He tore away the mask he wore and tossed it aside, eliciting a gasp from Dik. "I need out of this place. Get me out of here, let me breath some air. Real air. And let me see the sky."

The hunched man, Dik, once again wrung his hands. "Apologies my lord, but you must first give life to your servants, so that they may move the great door that keeps the crypt safe from outsiders. I myself have never left, not since I was entombed inside here, to watch over you."

Ari glanced briefly at the puppets again. "I don't want to give those things life right now. I want to see the sky Dik."

The hunched man bit his bulbous lip, then scratched at a wart on his cheek. "Yes, yes, there is a way. We cannot leave, but you can see the sky my lord, if that is what you wish."

"I do."

Dik shuffled over to a torch holder and freed the torch from it. He then lit an iron lantern on the floor and returned the torch to its berth. Picking up the lantern, he hobbled across the mausoleum floor. "This way my lord, this way!"

Ari did his best not to look up again as he passed under the hundreds of puppets. Dik approached an iron gate the size of a door set into a stone archway in the wall. He set the lantern down, tugged it with all his might, then finally pulled it open. Ari grimaced at the grinding sound of rusted metal and stone. When the door was open enough for them to slip past, the man was met with the briefest hint of fresh air. He gently nudged Dik forward. The hunched man hurried through with his lantern, leading the way.

They made their way up a winding stone staircase. Ari's cloak got in the way, forcing him to bunch it up and carry it before him. His silk shoes were uncomfortable as well, as every loose pebble and uneven crack was felt through the fabric. Dik was surprisingly fast climbing the stairs, and Ari had to work to keep up. The more they climbed, the more he could taste new smells and fresh air. Finally they reached another arched gate of iron. Dik paused, set down his lantern, and fished an old key from his doublet. The hunched man unlocked the door, then pushed it with all its might. With a shudder it groaned and opened outward. Dik picked up his lantern, then moved out of the way and presented the door.

"After you my lord,"

Ari glanced at the hunched man, then moved through the arch. He emerged out on a stone balcony. What he saw froze every muscle in his body.

An impossible city spread out before him. Rome was his first thought, but no, that was impossible. It was greater than Rome could have ever hoped to be, in any age. The city before Ari rose up and down like waves. Massive cathedrals, giant towers, rows of housing crammed together and on top of each other, and stone aqueducts crisscrossing everywhere like elevated walkways. There were domed roofs, bridges, canals, and the occasional ruin rising up like a skeletal beast. Everything spread out before Ari like a never ending maze, and rose higher than any building should have been able to. The city twinkled with a million lights, and above, a starry sky was marred with clouds and a faint, white moon.

Dik came up beside Ari and gazed out from the balcony. "Baccilae, my lord, welcomes you once again."

"Fuck," Ari said, closing his eyes. "Fuck fuck fuck."

​

 

[armentho]

>see lops thread
>watched

i love your writting style,you can pack a lot of vivid descriptions in little space,making every word more meaningful
will read in a while

 

[Krazyfan1]

Hmm. so you're not a vampire, but have some of their powers...
Revenant? perhaps?
The Krevcheski/Ducheski were fond of clockwork, but lacked the sunlight issue...

 

[Lop]

Ariedissus Bordo gripped the railing of the stone balcony. He felt overwhelmed, and sick to his stomach. The city of Baccilae spread out before him, its stone structures rising up like a forest of twinkling lights. The wind brought a myriad of smells as it blew past. Pungent odors of human and animal refuse, as well as wet stone and other scents he couldn't name. The man could hear the voices of people; cries, laughter, screaming, yelling. Ari dared to look down at the streets and canals below. In the darkness he could make out tiny moving dots. The streets were narrow, and zigzagging, and filled to the brim with commotion. The man didn't look long. The balcony stood at a dizzying height. Ari turned and gazed up behind him instead. The balcony was a part of a tall hill with sheer slopes and ruins perched precariously anywhere there was a ledge. At the bottom he had made out a thin canal separating the hill from the rest of the city like a moat, though it was completely surrounded on all sides by buildings. Many rose higher than the hill itself, and blocked the view of the city beyond. Ari slowly moved back towards the arched entry, doing his best to calm himself.

"My lord?" Dik said, his expression worried.

"It's nothing," Ari said, resting against the gate.

Was he really going to do this? Was he really going to live Ariedissus Bordo's life, complete with supposed powers and a city that seemed larger than the modern ones of his old life? Ari wasn't sure. He still struggled to remember his own name. He took a moment to gaze down at the doublet jacket poking out from within his cloak. The original Ari had planted him in this body by removing a glowing sphere and placing it inside him. Was there a way to take it back out? Ari felt along his chest, then tried unbuttoning his jacket.

"Allow me my lord," Dik said, quickly approaching.

"No," Ari said, knocking the hunched man's hands away. "I'm fine," he managed to undo the jacket, finding a thinner garment underneath. He pulled it up and stared at his chest. There was no sign of the glowing sphere, just hair and skin. It appeared Ari was quite pale, albeit hairy. He let the garment fall back into place. "shit…" Ari said, covering his eyes.

"They…" Dik began. "They said you might feel strange when you awoke. But give it time my lord! You will adjust soon," the hunched man brightened up. "Some food perhaps, or drink! It has been a year after all."

Ari didn't feel particularly hungry. But his throat still felt raw and unused. He nodded, his hand still covering his eyes. "Yes…a drink…"

"Come my lord," Dik said, hurrying past him. "This way!"

Ari followed the hunched man back down the spiraling staircase. Once again he bunched up his cloak, careful not to trip on the narrow steps. At the bottom Dik hurried ahead towards a corner of the mausoleum. The torches continued to burn in their holders, and above hung the puppets, as lifeless and still as when Ari had first awoken. Dik reached an area on the stone that was strewn with straw and the remains of a fire, as well as a small, rugged tent. The hunched man went to the side of the tent where wooden crates were stacked. Ari watched as Dik rummaged within.

He hadn't given much thought to the hunched man. Someone resembling Quasimodo or Igor was strange enough, but no stranger than anything else Ari had seen. But now that he stared at the man properly, questions began to surface in Ari's mind. "You…" he began.

Dik looked over his shoulder. "Yes my lord?"

Ari glanced at the tent. It was small, and smelled even from where he stood. "You've really lived here for a year?"

Dik nodded enthusiastically, then went back to his search. "Yes my lord! Faithfully have I watched over you during your slumber, and even before then. Surely you remember me?"

Ari wasn't particularly good at lying, or thinking things up on the spot. But necessity was a strong motivator, and the man realized he was far, far out of his depth. He would need all the help and understanding he could get. "I don't remember anything," Ari said, scratching at his arm.

"Ah!" Dik said, holding up a glass decanter in triumph. He turned and approached Ari, bearing the container like a newborn. "No matter my lord, I am but a humble servant, and cannot begin to guess what it must have been like during your transformation. But assuredly your memories will return in time!" He stopped in front of Ari and presented the decanter. "Perhaps a glass as well my lord? Forgive me, to my shame I haven't opened the crate they were stored in, but I can do so immediately!"

"No," Ari said, accepting the decanter. "No need." He found the cork covered in wax and scratched away until he could pop it open. The man took a long, deep drink, then spat it out. "Geh!" he exclaimed, spitting again. Dik moved deftly to the side to avoid the spray.

"My lord?"

"Whisky?" Ari said, holding up the decanter to inspect it. There was no writing, just an intricate crest melded into the glass. "No," Ari said, wiping his mouth. "That's not whiskey…"

"Spiced brandy, my lord," Dik said, wringing his hands. "Your favorite…?"

Ari scowled. "Is it now…" He had not been much of a drinker in his past life, but even when he had drank he'd stayed away from dark liquors. "Water, bring me that instead…please." Dik hurried away and returned with an animal-skin pouch with a wooden top. Ari drank greedily from it, ignoring the stale and gritty taste. "Much better," he said, finishing and passing it back. "Thank you."

"I live to serve," Dik said, bowing. He quickly glanced up. "Perhaps now my lord would like to give life to his servants?" His eyes moved to the dangling puppets. Ari followed his gaze.

"Do I have to?"

"If you wish to leave, yes…?"

Ari exhaled. "Alright, how do I," he paused making a flicking motion with his hand. "Use my powers,"

Dik's expression grew aghast. "I would never dream of instructing you my lord! I am but a humble servant, sworn to serve you in every way, but I cannot speak on such matters! I wouldn't dare!"

"Right," Ari said, turning fully to stare up at the puppets. Though there was only a little light from the lanterns, he could see as well in darkness as he could in the light in his former life. He guessed it had something to do with the body he inhabited. The man studied the puppets, putting a hand to his chin. "How many do I need to bring to life? To leave this place, I mean."

Dik sided up next to him and quickly counted his fingers. The hunched man smelled of old urine and sour sweat, and Ari did his best not to turn away. He would not judge. But the Lord is concerned only with what lies in the heart. What kind of heart did Dik have? He seemed nice enough, despite his smell. "Five my lord?" the hunched man said, holding up his fingers. "That should be enough…?"

"Five," Ari said, shedding his heavy cloak. Dik quickly moved behind him to catch it. The man rolled up the sleeves of his doublet jacket and rubbed his hands together. "Five shouldn't be too hard right? I can do five."

"Of course my lord!" Dik said, folding the cloak in his arms.

Ari closed his eyes. He tried to will something to happen, to manifest his powers. He felt nothing. Well, nothing wasn't correct. Ari felt extremely foolish. Like a middle-schooler playing pretend with magic spells. He might as well point his hand at the puppets and chant Abracadabra. The man kept his eyes closed, continuing to clench various muscles and strain his thoughts. A moment later something stirred, startling Ari.

"Shit!" he said, opening his eyes.

"My lord?" Dik said. "Is everything alright?"

"I…I actually felt something!" he closed his eyes again. A feeling of excitement built within him, despite his best efforts. He was a grown man in a strange land, there was no need to grow giddy over fantasy nonsense. And yet, Ari willed with all his might to feel the something that had made itself known inside him. It took a few moments, but again something stirred. Like a heavy liquid, bubbling up in his chest. He tried to grasp it, shape it, anything. The liquid continued to grow. It expanded, seemingly filling Ari's body. He felt it seeping out his pores, then his mouth.

"My lord!" Dik cried. "It's working!"

Ari opened his eyes. A black, oily smoke was trailing out from his arms and mouth. It rose up, twisting and writhing, like living tendrils. The smoke coiled around a group of puppets, then like hungry snakes dove into their wooden bodies. The puppets trembled, their limbs clacking and echoing around the mausoleum.

"Yes my lord!" Dik yelled, hopping from foot to foot. "Yes!"

The puppets convulsed, their limbs bending and unbending in rapid motions. One by one they broke free from their strings and dropped down. The wooden figures landed in heaps around the two men. Suddenly Ari felt the strength leave his body. He crumped to the floor.

"My lord!" Dik cried. He quickly set down the cloak and fell beside Ari. "My lord are you alright!"

Ari panted, feeling sweat trail down his face. The black smoke had dispersed, leaving behind no evidence of its emergence. The man felt weak, and empty. All around him the puppets began to stir. A weak smile appeared on Ari's face. He had done it. The middle-schooler had chanted the spells and actually done magic. He couldn't believe it. It was an exhilarating feeling.

"I'm fine," he said, allowing Dik to prop him up into a sitting position. "Just tired…"

"Look my lord!" Dik said, using his free hand to point at the puppets.

Ari looked. The puppets were sitting up, their heads lolling to the sides. There were harlequin clowns with patchwork uniforms and jester's hats, animals with bows around their necks, maidens in dresses, and a few knights with armor that glinted in the torchlight. They all reached for their heads and straightened them, then slowly got to their feet. Their painted eyes glanced around until they zeroed in on Ari. The puppets bowed as one.

"Ha…" Ari said, trying to catch his breath. "Ridiculous…" Despite his words, the man was pleased. He shouldn't be, it went against everything he believed in in his former life, but still, he couldn't help but feel it. He, a modern man from a modern world, had used magic. There were people he knew back home that would be pissing themselves with jealousy.

"How do you feel my lord?" Dik said. He produced a rag and dabbed the sweat from Ari's brow. The man once again ignored the smell.

"I'm okay," Ari said, struggling to get up. Dik helped him, supporting his arm. The man glanced at the puppets, who stood with their gazes fixed firmly on him. Ari gestured at the wooden figures. "How long does this last?"

"Ah…" Dik said, his tone hesitant. "Forgive me my lord, I would not know. Surely you were told before your slumber? Oh! But you cannot remember, yes, forgive me. Though, surely it lasts as long as you wish it?"

"Really?" Ari said, frowning. That went against several scientific principals he learned at university. Nothing could run forever, not without fuel. Was Ari the fuel then? He enjoyed using magic, but he wasn't exactly eager to use it again. Not until he recovered his strength. He nodded at the puppets. "Do you speak?"

The puppets exchanged glances, then nodded. A harlequin clown stepped forward and bowed, the two tails of his jester hat flopping about. "Indeed we do master," his voice was smooth, almost pleasing to the ear. Ari could hardly believe it belonged to a wooden figure. He narrowed his eyes as he regarded the clown. The puppet's skin somehow looked less wooden than it had a moment ago. It could almost pass for skin, though the joints and hinges were still clearly visible.

"Then do you know the answer?" Ari said. "How long can you stay like this?"

"We cannot say master," A large knight said. His voice boomed out from underneath his helm.

"It is up to you master," a maiden said. Two red dots were painted on her cheeks, and her mouth, like the others, bore lines like a ventriloquist dummy.

Ari wasn't comfortable being referred to as master. It had bad connotations in his old world, and he had never been one to lord authority over others. On the other hand, he wasn't quite sure there was any reason to correct puppets he had brought to life, and may not even be alive in the truest sense. "Well," he said. "Good enough I suppose," he turned to Dik. "Where's this door?"

"This way my lord," the hunched man said, hurrying past him. He doubled back and grabbed the lantern and the cloak, and then for good measure grabbed the carnival mask from the coffin. With these items in his arms the hunched man hustled towards the far wall. Once again Ari was beset by questions. Did he really want to leave and explore the strange city? He glanced around as he followed Dik. The remaining puppets hung lifelessly above on their strings, unlike the others that parted for him as he passed. Ari decided it was better than staying in the mausoleum. Dik stopped before the wall and raised his lantern to illuminate it. Ari didn't need the light, though now he noticed a large stone archway blocked by a large stone wheel. It would take quite a bit of manpower to move. He glanced over his shoulder at the puppets.

"You guys mind helping me move this?"

The puppets streamed into a line and dutifully headed over. Their movements seemed natural enough, and now Ari took the time to count them. There were fifteen in all, a mix of animals, clowns, maidens, and knights. They all stopped before the stone door and took positions with their hands pressed firmly to its surface. As one they pushed, and the stone shuddered. Ari raised an impressed eyebrow.

"They seem strong," he said to no one in particular.

"Indeed my lord!" Dik said, grinning with his misshapen mouth. "As expected of the power gifted to you by the Marquis!"

Ari frowned, watching as the stone begin to move. A tiny draft slipped through. "What uh…what can you tell me about this Marquis guy?"

Dik's grin faded, his expression growing nervous. "Ah…yes, what can one such as I say of one as powerful as the Marquis? He…he is no doubt a god, yes! A god! A lord of Baccilae, master of the dark arts and ruler of the red court!"

Ari sighed. More fantasy nonsense. He would have to get used to it, he supposed. He had already given life to puppets like the fairy godmother in Pinocchio, what was an evil Marquis added to the mix? The stone door continued to roll in front of him, until the entrance to the mausoleum was fully revealed. Now the draft tuned into a breeze, and carried with it all the smells of the city beyond. Ari sniffed, hesitating as he considered leaving.

"Might I suggest my lord…" Dik began.

"Yes?" the man said, glancing at him.

"Well, to move in a large group would certainly be safe, on the other hand, to draw attention at this hour…"

Ari glanced at the puppets, his gaze lingering on the swords the knights held at their sides. "Do you think they can fight?"

"Most certainly my lord!"

"So…what, one? Two? How many should I bring?"

Dik gave him an uneasy grin. "Perhaps…three my lord? Yes, three, that is a good number!"

Ari thought as hard. Bringing knights was certainly tempting, but he had a nagging feeling they would seem out-of-place in a renaissance city. He didn't know history, but he did know enough to understand that knights were medieval, and the city of Baccilae seemed more a home for De Vinci-type people. It was hard to explain, but the more Ari dwelled on it, the more he understand that he was better off bringing puppets that could at least somewhat blend in. He pointed out two clowns and a maiden. "You three, can you…" he gestured vaguely. "Fight and stuff?"

The clowns and the maiden nodded. "Yes my lord," the maiden said, bowing her head. Her brown hair, which had seemed to be made of wool earlier, now looked more realistic in the lantern-light. And though she retained the red dots on her cheeks and thin lines around her mouth, her skin, as well as the clowns and the other living puppets, was undoubtedly more lifelike.

"Creepy," Ari murmured. He quickly got over it and clapped once. "Alright, you three with me, and you as well Dik,"

"Of course my lord!"

"The rest of you wait here, and roll the stone back into place after we've left. Don't let anyone inside." There was a chance Ari was being overly-cautious, but the old Ari had warned him how dangerous the city could be, and he had no wish to have the only safe place he knew of being ransacked while he was gone. He approached the stone wheel and knocked in a pattern. "I'll do this when I return, so you'll know it's me."

The puppets nodded. Ari took a deep breath, then noticed Dik holding out his carnival mask. "My lord, may I humbly suggest disguising yourself? The great and powerful Marquis, as well as his servants, have many…enemies,"

"Sure," Ari said, taking the mask. He affixed to his face, adjusting it until he could see out the eyelids. With one more look at the mausoleum behind him, the man left through the entrance. Dik and the puppets followed after him. They entered a long tunnel lined with damp stone. The only light came from the lantern Dik held, as well as a soft glow that marked the end of the tunnel. Not that Ari needed the light. As always, he could see perfectly well. The tunnel bent slightly, and the man noticed that there were several other tunnels branching off at the intersection. He continued towards the light beckoning at the end. "So," Ari said, interrupting the sound of their echoing footsteps. "You guys have names?"

The two clowns shook their heads, their jester hats flopping around. "No master," the maiden said. "Not until you give them to us."

Ari wasn't the imaginative sort, but he didn't want to just refer to the puppets as you. It would quickly grow confusing. He mulled over some names that would be easy to remember. "Alright," he said, pointing at the taller clown. "You're Ronald McDonald," he pointed at the other clown, who was shorter but rounder around the waist. "And you're Bozo," he then nodded at the maiden. "And you're Mariam, like from Robin Hood."

"Exquisite names my lord!" Dik exclaimed.

"Thank you master," Mariam said. The two clowns nodded in agreement. Any further conversation was stopped as the group emerged from the tunnel. Ari came to a stop, taking in the view before him.

It was intimidating.

A stone bridge lined with torches crossed the canal and led to the surrounding city. The bridge ended at an arched entry protected by a massive gate, and stone buildings lined the canal like an imposing wall. Their spires rose up like sentries, and beyond were even taller buildings. The canal emitted a putrid smell, and was filled with floating refuse that drifted lazily under the bridge. There was no one to be seen, not even on the hill that contained the ruins and the mausoleum behind them. Ari crossed the bridge, thankful that the carnival mask he wore kept out the worst of the stench.

The group reached the gate. Dik shuffled forward, then offered the cloak to Ari. "Something to keep the chill away my lord, and to protect your pristine clothing." Ari took it and threw it around his shoulders without a word. Mariam and Bozo helped him adjust it. Dik approached the gate and produced a large key from a string around his neck. He placed it in the gate and turned it with all his might.

"No guards?" Ari said, glancing over his shoulder at the bridge and the steep hill behind it. It was a strange sight, to see an island of ruins in the middle of a city.

"Fear not my lord," Dik said, taking back the key and tucking it in his dirty doublet jacket. "There are guards…" He briefly glanced at the canal below the bridge. Ari decided he didn't need to ask any further questions on the matter. He was already having enough trouble stomaching all the strangeness around him.

Ronald, Bozo, and Mariam approached the gate and pushed. With a groan it began to shift. Ari waited until enough space appeared for them to slip through. The group did so, and then the puppets pulled it back into place behind them. Dik locked it. When he had finished, Ari studied where they had emerged. They were on a narrow street, lined with stone buildings that rose up like canyon walls on either side of them. Some were old and worn, while others seemed newer. Each had archways, columns, and the occasional gargoyle perched on stone ledges. Sometimes there were shrubberies or large stone pots bearing voluminous plants, while other buildings had cloth and tapestries draped from the balconies of the upper levels.

And then there were the people. They were everywhere. Men in what Ari could only assume were craftsmen clothing, women in revealing dresses or long cloaks, children running about in small groups, people leading animals and carts. The smell of the city was even stronger now, almost overwhelming. The pungent odor of the canal remained, but now sweat, refuse, and spilled alcohol was added to the mix. It reminded Ari of pictures he had seen of Venice, though he found it strange there were such crowds even at night.

"What time is it?" Ari said, taking in the view. No one seemed to notice or care that they had emerged from the gate.

"Forgive me my lord," Dik said. "I cannot say, as I have only just now left the crypt, and have spent much time in the darkness," the hunched man gazed up at the sky. "But if I had to guess…the eleventh hour…?"

"Hm, and do you mark the hours by twelve or twenty-four? What I mean to say is, how many hours in a day?"

"Thirty my lord," Dik said, giving Ari a concerned look.

"Six extra hours in a day huh," Ari murmured to himself. "And how much time do we have until sunrise?"

"Around eight my lord," Dik said. "Though I'd suggest we leave the street before then. May I be so bold to ask where you intend to go sir?" the hunched man lowered his voice, casting fugitive glances at the people streaming past them. "Certainly you will visit the red court first and announce your awakening to the Marquis?"

Ari had absolutely no desire to visit someone named the Marquis of Pain, especially considering what the old Ari and Dik had told him about the mysterious noble. "I think I'll simply walk around first. You know, get a feel for the city."

Dik's face paled beneath his burlap hood. "M-my lord, forgive me, but as your loyal servant I must insist we visit the Marquis. If he were to discover that you kept him waiting…" the hunched man shuddered. "I would rather not even think about it…"

"Well," Ari began, preparing to come up with a reasonable excuse. He was interrupted by the clattering wheels of a carriage. It was an elegant vehicle, with black sides and black curtains, and driven by a coachman wearing a black doublet, black tights, a black mask, and a wide-brimmed hat. It came to a rattling stop in front of Ari and his companions. The door swung open, revealing a red velvet interior. Sitting on one side was a young woman in a billowy red dress detailed with golden patterns. Her hair was long and blonde, and her face was obscured by a black domino mask. Though even despite the mask, Ari could tell at a glance she was quite beautiful. She smiled a dazzling smile, her honeyed voice trailing out from the carriage.

"Ari, darling, it has been far, far too long. And look what wonderful toys you have with you, you must be quite enjoying yourself already,"

"Hello," Ari said, his tone cautious. "You'll have to excuse me, but I seem to be having memory problems. You are…?"

The young woman's smile changed to one of slight amusement. "Oh?" she said, covering her expression with a gloved hand. "Is that so? Well then allow me to introduce myself. I am Stella Medashoni, esteemed servant and messenger of our illustrious master,"

"Ah," Ari said, a feeling of unease building inside him. "I see…"

Stella gestured at the interior of the carriage. "Come Ari, the master is expecting you, as is the rest of our…wonderful family. We are oh so delighted to have you back among us, after all."

"Right," Ari murmured. With one final look around the busy street, he approached the carriage and climbed inside. The door shut firmly behind him.

​

 

[Krazyfan1]

i wonder how sapient the puppets are?

 

[Lop]

Brown eyes behind a red carnival mask. Blue eyes behind a black domino mask. Ari and Stella sat across from each other in the cushioned interior of the carriage, each studying the other. Ari was once again confronted with the beauty of the mysterious blonde woman in the red dress. She sat in a way the exuded elegance, yet with a coy glint in her eye that made her seem unpredictable. Though Ari might have been imagining the latter. He shifted, adjusting his cloak so that the hem rested comfortably across his lap, then glanced at the curtains covering the window. He carefully thought over the question he wanted to ask.

"Yes?" Stella said, a hint of a smile on her face. It seemed she could tell something was bothering Ari.

"My servants," Ari began. He didn't like using the term, but companions or friends didn't fit either. "How will they be riding?"

The sound of a trunk opening was heard, and then the carriage shook. Stella briefly glanced up at the ceiling, as if to draw attention to the noise. "The driver is placing your toys in the rear trunk. Your hunchback may ride in the driver's seat."

Ari flinched, though it went unnoticed under his layers of clothing. The word toys was a bit dismissive, considering how lifelike the puppets seemed, and stacking them in a trunk seemed equally unpleasant. Ari also didn't like how Stella referred to Dik as a hunchback. It was a manner of speech that was depressingly similar to his old world. His opinion of the woman lessened, and he no longer felt quite as taken with her beauty, though her elegance had not changed in the slightest. Stella watched him, her hint of a smile remaining.

"Did I say something that displeases you Ari?"

It was if she knew his inner thoughts, but that was impossible. Ari wore a mask that covered his entire face, with only his eyes visible. He shook his head. There would be a time to set precedents, but not until he better understood his situation. He had learned many hard lessons in his past life about picking and choosing his battles.

"Well then," Stella said, parting the curtain and casting a glance outside. Seemingly satisfied by what she saw, she let it fall back into place. "I must say your memory loss intrigues Ari. Pray tell, certainly you haven't forgotten everything." Her last word was punctuated by the sound of the rear trunk being slammed shut, shaking the carriage. A moment later the carriage shook again, then the driver's whip cracked. The carriage started forward.

"I've forgotten much I'm afraid," Ari said, choosing his words carefully. "Though I imagine things will come back to me in time."

"Interesting," Stella said, though her tone hinted at a darker sort of amusement. "I have never heard of any other servants losing their memories. Though you have always been on the…softer side. If anyone were to lose their mind in a coffin, it would be you Ari…" her words hung in the air, as if baiting him. Ari wasn't able to give her a smile while wearing a mask, so instead he conceded her point with a nod.

"Perhaps you are right Miss Medashoni,"

Stella let out what sounded like a genuine laugh. "Miss Medashoni? Come now Ari, I'll forgive a bit of forgetfulness on your part, but you will refer to me as Stella and nothing else. We are family now, after all."

"Very well," Ari said, keeping his tone neutral. "Stella it is."

"Much better," the young woman said. She parted the curtain again and peered out. "Tell me, are you finding your new life to your liking? I rather enjoy hearing from those that have recently received the Marquis's blessing."

"Yes, using magic was…an experience…"

Stella snorted, her gaze still fixed outside the window. "Magic? Don't be vulgar Ari. We're not sorcerers. It is the blessing of the Marquis you wield, and he is well beyond magic."

"Fair enough," Ari said. "And you? Are you blessed by the Marquis?"

Stella didn't respond for a moment. She let the curtain fall back into place and turned to him. Her expression was unreadable, though her eyes seemingly bored into his. "Oh yes Ari. Very much so. And I pray I never have reason to demonstrate to you what I have received. We are so close, after all." Ari nodded, unsure how to respond. Stella tilted her head slightly, her small smile returning. "Go on, surely one who has lost his memories has more questions?"

Ari tried to gather his thoughts. It was hard, considering the speed at which things were happening to him. There was also the noise of the street outside the moving carriage. Shouting, laughter, screams. The man decided to voice another matter that had confused him. "Your appearance was quite the coincidence. Did you know I was going to leave my…crypt?"

"Oh Ari, the Marquis knew you were awake the moment you used his blessing. You invoked him, whether you realized it or not, and he allowed you in turn to use his power. As he will every time you bring your little toys to life. Something to remember, I would think."

"You mean I can't use my superpowers without his permission?"

Stella's smile disappeared, though she didn't seem displeased. "Superpowers? What quaint words you use Ari, it's almost entertaining. Though I'm not sure the Marquis will feel the same, so I suggest you correct your manner of speech before we arrive at court." She held up a gloved hand and inspected a ring. "But to answer your question, yes, each time you call on the Marquis, he will decide in that moment whether to answer. To that end, I would suggest ensuring you remain in his good graces."

A strange discomfort took hold of Ari. He now understood he was completely dependent on the Marquis, at least when it came to using magic. And to make matters worse, the Marquis would become aware of him every time he used his powers. It was akin to invoking the devil. And then there was something further, something the man didn't even want to consider. Could this mysterious marquis tell Ari wasn't actually Ari? Was he aware that there had been a body swap, and that the real Ari had run away? The man glanced at his own rings, one for each of his fingers save his thumbs. He needed to distract himself from such worries.

"Ari," Stella said, her serious tone drawing his attention. Her expression was unreadable, though her gaze was fixed firmly on him. "In truth, this matter of your memories is somewhat troubling. You wouldn't happen to be lying to me, would you? I won't be mad if you are. You hold a special place in my heart."

She can't read my mind Ari assured himself. That would be beyond absurd. "No," he said, his voice firm. "I'm not lying. I really can't remember anything of my past."

"Hm," Stella said. "I will choose to believe you, because I do not want to live in a world where my precious Ari deceives me. I should mention however, that the Marquis will flay you alive and feed you to the limestone pits if you are foolish enough to be false with him. I will do what I can to explain your situation, but you must watch yourself in the red court. Many of our siblings are less fond of you than I, so remember your manners, and your station. You can manage that much, can't you Ari?"

The man nodded. "I can."

"Good," Stella said, giving him a warm smile. "Now, we will arrive shortly. Are there any other questions you wish to ask? I assure you I will cast no judgement, it is better that you are prepared for what comes next."

"Then please explain, what exactly comes next?"

"You will meet the Marquis, you will reaffirm your loyalty, and you will take your place among the red court. It is something many can only dream of, becoming a true member of the family…"

"I see…and what does being a part of our family mean? I have powers, and puppets I can bring to life, what…?" Ari trailed off.

"Yes?" Stella said, giving him an encouraging smile.

"What's the point? What are we doing?"

Stella didn't respond for a moment. Her smile faded, and she tilted her head slightly as she regarded the man. "Take off your mask, Ari." He obeyed, as he didn't see any reason not to. Ari placed the mask in his lap, brushed his hair from his face, and met the young woman's gaze. "Hmm," she said, seemingly pleased. "Yes, much better." She took off her own mask, and in doing so dispelled any doubts that she was beautiful. Her manner of speaking was that of a confident, mature woman, but Ari guessed she could be no older than twenty. It was a strange discrepancy. "Now," she said, setting her domino mask aside. "The answer to your peculiar question is simple. We serve the Marquis, and do his bidding, whatever it may be. You yourself will likely receive instruction upon meeting him, assuming he does not find fault with you. So again," she gave him a knowing look. "Mind yourself Ari, and watch your words. The questions you ask me here in this carriage must never be repeated outside of it."

Ari nodded. "Thank you…Stella. You seem very kind, and I can tell you care for me. If there is any way I can repay-"

Stella leaned forward and placed a finger to his lips, surprising the man. "Shh, say no more. Invoking personal debts is a rather serious matter in our family, so do not be so eager to promise things. But you are right, as I mentioned before, you hold a special place in my heart."

"We have history then?"

Stella smiled. "We do. And perhaps one day I shall tell you of it, assuming your memories do not come back to you before then. But for now I am mildly amused by the situation, and if you do regain your memories, I am sure I will be among the first to hear from you about it." The carriage began to slow, then came to a complete stop. The door swung open, revealing a stone courtyard beyond. Stella put on her domino mask, prompting Ari to do the same with his. The young woman then held out her hand. "Help me out Ari." The man obeyed. He emerged from the carriage, then turned and helped her down. After she had let go of his hand, Ari did a slow circle and took in his surroundings.

The carriage had stopped in a plaza boxed in on all sides by tall stone walls, save for one which had an entrance to an arched tunnel, which Ari assumed they had traveled through. The walls were lined with narrow windows looking down into the plaza, some with candles flickering behind their panes, others bathed in complete darkness. Every side was five stories tall, and above twinkled the nighttime sky. On the opposite end from the arched tunnel was a short and wide stone staircase that led up to a massive red door. It seemed too large for any human to open, or even a team of them. It was like a door made for giants, immobile, and imposing. Stella held out her hand.

"Come Ari, the Marquis awaits." The man glanced at the carriage. Dik sat beside the driver with his head bowed, and the puppets were still presumably in the trunk hanging off the back. Stella took his hand. "I said come Ari. Pay no attention to your servants, they will be here when you return."

Ari did not fail to notice the edge that had entered the young woman's tone. He walked in silence with her towards the stone staircase and the red door that towered before them. Stella's dress swept across the cobblestone, as did Ari's cloak. Seemingly on cue, the red door shuddered, then split down the middle and opened inward. There was hardly any sound. Yawning darkness waited beyond. A darkness not even Ari could see through. A faint breeze drifted out as well. The man sniffed, then his steps faltered.

It was not a pleasant smell.

"Ari," Stella said, pulling him forward. "Move."

A change seemed to be overtaking the young woman. Ari steeled himself for what lay ahead. Smokey tendrils reached out from the darkness and enveloped them as they entered the doorway. Suddenly Ari could no longer see, nor could he hear. It was if the very air was muted. His only sense of direction came from the feeling of Stella's hand in his. They walked for several minutes, then lights appeared in the distance. At first they were mere pinpricks. As Ari walked, they became flickering fires, then revealed themselves to be candlesticks in tall iron holders. Slowly shapes began to form around them, then a long red carpet appeared on the floor. Walls with arched openings like a coliseum materialized, and suddenly Ari found himself in a large stone hall. It was far bigger than even the door at the front entrance had been, and seemed to raise so high that its ceiling was lost in shadow. Candlestick holders lined the arched walls, casting faint pools of light. Chandeliers hung from long chains above. The red carpet continued on until it reached a grand marble staircase that led up to another large doorway. Stella let go of Ari's hand to hold her dress as she continued walking. The man followed. He could still smell the unpleasant odor. He wasn't sure what it was, but it made his insides churn.

A figure appeared from one of the arched openings lining the bottom of the left wall. It was a young man, as far as Ari could tell, though an incredibly handsome one. His tights and shoes were white with silver patterns, and matched his doublet jacket. Despite his youth, his hair was white, and his face seemed calm, his eyes almost distant. For whatever reason he did not wear a mask, though a long sword in a silver scabbard hung at his waist. He crossed towards the bottom of the stairs, meeting Stella and Ari at the bottom.

"Diago," Stella said, smiling warmly at the young man. He turned, as if just now noticing them. He only briefly glanced at the young woman, though his gaze lingered on Ari.

"Stella," he said, though it was less a greeting and more a statement of fact. His voice was even, and without a hint of emotion. He continued to regard Ari.

"We've just now arrived from the crypts," Stella said, her warm smile growing joyous. "And look who've I've brought! Precious little Ari!"

Ari wasn't sure how he was supposed to greet the young man, or even who he was. "Hello-" he began, but was stopped short as a forceful blow impacted into his stomach. Ari gasped, doubling over, then staggered backwards. He didn't understand what had happened. The young man continued to regard Ari, as if nothing unusual had occurred. He took a few steps forward as Ari tried to straighten up.

"What's the matter?" the young man said, though again his tone and expression were devoid of emotion.

"I…" Ari wheezed, trying to catch his breath. In response another blow slammed down on his head, knocking him to the ground. The man struck the red carpet and the stone underneath it. Black splotches appeared in his vision, and there was ringing in his ears. His stomach and head throbbed with pain.

"What are you doing on the ground?" the young man said, as if it was a simple question.

Ari winced, then tried to push himself up off the floor. A heavy blow landed on his back, though he didn't see where it had come from. He struck the floor again, his breath knocked from his lungs. His hat slid off his hair. Another blow struck his head, dislodging his mask, then another struck his side. The man coughed, tasting blood in his mouth. He looked for Stella. She stood to the side with a smile, watching. She seemed to be enjoying herself. A new blow caught Ari in the arm, then a vicious one came up into his stomach. Ari vomited. He couldn't understand what was happening.

The young man knelt in front of him, then gripped Ari's hair and dragged his head up so he could look into his eyes. "I asked, what are you doing on the ground?" There was no emotion in his voice or expression. No maliciousness, no cruelty, just a calm face and calm eyes. Another blow, seemingly from nowhere, knocked Ari across the face. He spat out blood. The young man lifted him higher by the hair, then slammed his face into the ground. "I asked you a question, why aren't you answering?"

"That's enough Diago," Stella said, though she was still smiling. "Ari has only just awoken, and the Marquis is expecting him." The young man, Diago, stared a beat longer at Ari, then let go of his hair. The man's head hit the red carpet and stayed there. He couldn't move, and he had so many bruised bones he wondered if he ever could. Diago turned without a word and started climbing the stairs. Ari tried to catch his breath, but each one brought with it a new surge of pain. He saw Stella's red dress moving in front of him through his blurry vision. "Get up Ari." Though he couldn't see it, the man could tell by her tone that her smile had disappeared.

Fucking hell he thought as he lay there. What the FUCK was that. Ari hadn't seen anything hit him, save for when Diago has physically slammed his head into the ground. He could only assume that it had been some sort of magic the young man used. Ari grit his teeth and slowly pushed himself up, wincing from the pain. Right then. Bullying. I'm no stranger to that. We had plenty of that bullshit in my old world. But the fantasy angle is certainly an unpleasant addition. Ari was unsteady as he straightened himself up. He could now see Stella's expression. She seemed bored, and her gaze was not kind as it regarded Ari.

"Your mask and your hat," she said simply.

Ari bent down and picked them up off the floor. Calm yourself. You don't know what's going on. You don't know the situation. Anger always, ALWAYS, makes things worse. Don't lose your cool, and just keep up a good show until you understand how these assholes do things. He put his floppy hat on his head, then affixed his mask. Seemingly satisfied, Stella turned and started ascending the stairs. Ari hobbled after her.

The door at the top was already swinging inward. Diago walked through it, and it remained open as Stella and Ari neared. The man could see beyond the door, and could hear a chorus of voices. The next hall was rectangular and tall like the first one, but there were balconies sticking out from the upper levels, and people gathered all around. There were men, women, even children, all dressed in magnificent clothing. Fanciful doublet jackets and tights, layered dresses glimmering in the candlelight, and an array of masks that all invoked a carnival feel. Though Ari noted that not everyone was masked, including Diago. The young man with white hair walked seemingly nonplussed through the gathering. Everyone parted for him, and few called out greetings. Those that did were ignored.

"Stella!" a voice called. Ari turned in the direction of the voice. A trio of women approached Stella, all of them young and with grins on their faces. One had dark blond hair, another jet black, and the third a silky brown. Their dresses complemented their hair color perfectly, as did the masks resting on their faces. Like Stella's, their masks were thin, and did little to disguise their faces.

"Hello girls," Stella said, though she only gave the barest hint of a smile.

The young woman with dark blonde hair reached out and took Stella's hand. "We were looking for you, where did you go!"

Stella freed her hand from the young woman's grasp and turned away from her. "I was collecting the newest member of our family of course, why else would I leave the court."

The trio of women turned their attention to Ari. The one with jet-black hair frowned. "Who is that? I can't tell."

"Ari, newly emerged from his yearlong transformation."

"Oh," the trio said in unison. They were clearly uninterested in the man. The one with silky brown hair tilted her head slightly. "Stella, well you join us for games later? No one wants to play with us it seems…"

"Oh I can't imagine why," Stella said, moving past the trio. "But perhaps later. The Marquis is expecting Ari, and I must deliver him."

With that she departed, and Ari followed. He did his best to hide his limp as walked. They passed more groups of people, many of whom called out greetings to Stella. She gave them polite waves and polite smiles in return, but her movements were purposeful. Ari could feel the eyes of quite people a few on him, but luckily his mask hid his nervousness. They reached a new staircase leading to a new door and ascended. No one else was present on the steps or the stone landing leading up to the door. It opened as they neared, and once more the pair was greeted with swirling shadows. Ari entered into it with Stella. His sight and hearing became useless, though this time the young woman did not take his hand. The man did his best to walk in a straight line, and finally emerged from the shadows.

Ari found himself in a chamber that was bigger than any he had ever seen in his life. Though in truth he could only guess at its size, as the distant recesses, walls, and ceiling were bathed in shadows that seemed to move with a mind of their own. The room certainly felt big, and the man was caressed by a faint wind trailing around him. The only light came from a series of candles on tall candlestick holders that lined a stone bridge. The bridge itself stretched out towards the middle of the massive chamber, and at the end was a staircase leading up to a small, circular platform. Stella came to a stop, her hands clasped politely over her dress.

"I will wait here," she said, her voice echoing through the empty space around them. "Go, and greet your master."

Ari briefly regarded her, then turned to face the bridge. He started walking, fighting through the pain and the bruising. He knew not to appear meek in this moment, nor wounded. Every fiber of his being told him so. The man instinctively knew he was already being watched, though from where, he could not say. Ari's footsteps echoed as he crossed the stone bridge. He cast only a brief glance over its side, and was met with a drop that had no end. Only darkness. The man reached the staircase and started climbing. There was no change in the shifting shadows that obscured the edges of the room, nor was there any sound besides his labored breathing against his mask. Finally he reached the stone platform and came to a stop in the middle. The silence stretched, and Ari wondered what he was supposed to do next. His answer came in the form of a sound like rushing water.

A massive, gigantic, colossal, something moved in the swirling shadows before him. It emerged, breaking through the smokey tendrils. It was a figure, no, a giant, towering above Ari and making him feel insignificant. He guessed it to be a man. But not just any man. It could only be the Marquis of Pain himself. The figure was dressed in several layers of flowing cloaks that spread out around him as if he were underwater. On his face was a simple red mask, almost identical to the comedy masks seen on theater marquees. His head was adorned with a floppy hat that shifted just like his cloaks. The Marquis stared straight ahead at nothing, then shifted his gaze downward towards Ari on the platform. The man felt a shiver run up and down his spine, as well as every hair on his body standing on end. He knew this feeling.

It was abject terror.

"Ariedissus," the Marquis said, his voice powerful, overwhelming, terrifying, yet somehow calm. "You have returned to me..."

Ari wasn't stupid. He knelt down on one knee and bowed his head. "Master."

The massive figure tilted his head ever-so-slightly as he regarded the small man on the platform. "Yes…very good Ariedissus," his robes billowed outward, as if caught in a sudden gust. "Tell me…how do you feel…?"

A single word came to Ari. He knew it was the right answer. "I feel blessed, master."

A low chuckle echoed out from the Marquis's comedy mask. The sound chilled Ari to the bone. "Yes…yes…very good…I am pleased…that another of my servants…has now fully joined my family…."

Ari's whole body trembled. He was scared shitless, his mind almost blank. Despite this and his poor imagination, the man felt as if he was in the presence of a god. So he spoke like a character in the Bible. He could do that much at least. "I am unworthy, yet you have chosen me and bestowed your favor. I am happy to join your family."

"Hmm…" the Marquis said, straightening his head. "Enough…" his massive arm suddenly appeared from inside his cloak, bearing a giant ruby ring on one of his fingers. It stopped mere inches in front of Ari, dwarfing his body. The force of its approach pushed a wall of air and tore the man's hat from his head. He could see his reflection in the red crystal. "Kiss the ring…and swear everything to me…"

Ari removed his mask and did so. He was still flying by the seat of his pants, but did his best to act like one of the twelve disciples. "I swear it. Everything I have is yours."

Was it the right answer? Ari couldn't tell. The Marquis took back his arm and returned it beneath his billowing cloaks. "Good…good…I have a task for you Ariedissus…a test of your loyalty…and ability…"

Ari bowed his head. "I will do whatever you ask."

"Good Ariedissus…then here is what you must do…there is a man in my city…a sorcerer…a servant of my enemy…you must kill him Ariedissus…for I hate my enemy…and all who serve him…kill him…kill him…kill the servant of my enemy…and bring me his head..."

Ari swallowed, keeping his head bowed. "Consider it done, master…"

Another chuckle escaped the Marquis. "Good…" he said, his robes flowing around him. "See that you do not…fail."

​

 

[Lop]

There were times in Ari's old life when he was confronted with unimaginable horror. He had access to every happening in his world, as long as there was someone there to witness it. The man was acutely aware of the tragedies and indignities that seemed to plague human existence in a modern society. War, famine, slavery, despondence, misery, emptiness, exploitation, ecological collapse. Because of these things, there was little that could surprise him anymore. Or at least, that's what Ari had thought until recently. But there were several exceptions now. The first being his death in his old world, a drawn-out and brutal affair. The second was the moment he was experiencing right now. Ari was bowing in front of the Marquis of Pain, and had just been instructed to kill someone. Beneath the man's mask, his face was drenched in sweat, and his body ached with pain. But he had agreed to do it.

Ari had promised to murder a sorcerer.

The colossal figure known as the Marquis began to fade into the mass of swirling shadows behind him. As he did, his robes flapped wildly, caught in a gust of wind. The gust tore past Ari and pulled at his clothes, threatening to rip away his cloak and mask. The man gripped both tightly. In front of him, the Marquis was being enveloped by the darkness, until he completely disappeared. The wind died down. It was replaced by a deafening silence. Ari trembled, his hands still gripping his cloak and mask. His knuckles were turning white. His throat felt dry. Ari closed his eyes.

This has to be a dream he thought. But Ari knew better. He was not the type of man who had ever been capable of dreaming something like this. If it was not a dream, then it had to be hell. The man slowly got up from kneeling. He let go of his mask, but not his cloak. Ari turned and left the circular platform. His steps were unsteady as he descended the stairs. The massive room swirled with darkness on every side. The candles uniformly spaced along the bridge flickered as he passed them. The man felt condemned. Like an inmate being led to his death. But it was not a death in the physical sense. It was a death of his spirit, his soul. Ari had held strong principals in his old life. Was his fate now to murder for the Marquis?

Stella waited for him at the end of the bridge. Her red and gold dress shimmered in the candlelight, as did her vibrant blond hair. The young woman's expression was calm, her posture exuding elegance and poise. She held out her hand as he neared. "Very good Ari," she said, taking his hand in hers. "You behaved well in front of our master, and now you have your task, and a test."

"To kill a…sorcerer…" Ari said. He struggled with the word. It had no business being spoken in serious company. But everything around him was serious. Undeniably so.

Stella turned and walked Ari towards the swirling shadows that congealed in the doorway. "His name is Gregor Bevaulta," she began. "And he has holed himself up in the top of the Ibezian tower. You will go there, overcome everything he has gathered to protect himself, and then kill him. I would suggest doing something gruesome to his body to send a message, but his head must be brought back to the red court intact."

Ari didn't respond. What could he say?

Stella eyed him, though she kept her head forward as they neared the doorway. "Do you not have any questions? I would think you would…"

Ari's voice came out faint, almost dazed. "What exactly is a sorcerer? Does he shoot lightning from his fingers?" he glanced at her as the smokey tendrils of the door reached out for them. "Will he try to turn me into a frog?"

Stella gave him a warm smile, as if comforting a child. "Nonsense Ari. He is a necromancer, and he commands the dead. Ironic really, considering his master."

Any further discussion was cut off as they sank into the shadows. Once again Ari was robbed of his hearing and sight, but Stella guided him along by the hand. The man's thoughts were troubled, and sweat still clung to his face. He used the journey through the darkness to take off his mask with his free hand and wipe his brow with his sleeve. He quickly affixed the disguise back into place, and then he and Stella emerged from the shadows.

Ari was met with an unimaginable sight, and confronted with unimaginable sounds.

When he had first entered the second hall, it had been filled with well-dressed people mingling and moving about. Now however, he saw something entirely different. There were even more people, and the noise was deafening. The well-dressed men, women, and children were gathered around countless torture devices. People of all ages, genders, and appearances were bound to the instruments. There were stretching racks, breaking-wheels, cages, stockades, and more. The victims' screams filled the air. From the ceiling hung countless bodies, their skin in the process of being peeled off by laughing members of the red court. There was blood everywhere, pooling on the ground, seeping in the cracks of the cobblestone. The was also excrement, and tears. Ari finally understood what he had smelled when he first approached the entrance to the court.

It was death. He had smelled death.

Ari's legs locked, and he found himself frozen in place. From the top of the stairs he took it all in. The suffering, the laughter. Servants in plain masks walked among the members of the red court, offering them food and drink on platters. It was like a festival, or a party. The noise rang in Ari's ears, his mind threatening to black out. He felt Stella pull roughly on his hand.

"Ari," she said, her tone holding an edge. "Do not embarrass yourself. Not here. The red court has no place for the weak."

The man managed to gasp out a single word. "What…?"

"It's the midnight games Ari," Stella said, leading him down the stairs. "We hold them frequently here. You yourself have participated before, and you will be expected to take a larger role now that you have joined the family."

Ari didn't respond. He now finally understood, with full clarity, why the old Ari had fled and trapped him in his body. Thinking this place was hell had been an understatement. He was in a nightmare of the worst kind. Ari did not dare look to the left or right as they left the stairs and passed through the festivities. Screams, laughter, there were even musicians playing in the corner. His entire body trembled, and his head felt light. His silk shoes sloshed through red puddles. He felt he could pass out at any moment.

"Stella Stella!" an excited voice called. Ari glanced in the direction of it despite his best efforts. It was the trio of young women who had greeted Stella the first time they had entered. They were gathered around a wooden table with an older woman strapped to it. The victim's head was in a vice, and her face was squeezed to the point of bulging. The young woman who had spoken was the one with dark-blonde hair. She waved at Stella. "Come and play with us! You said you would!"

"I said perhaps," Stella said, moving past them with a polite wave. "I must see Ari off first."

Ari fought down the bile rising in his throat. They passed more and more people standing around torture devices. Their laughing faces were cast in flickering shadows from the candles lining the room. Ari slipped on blood, but Stella held firm to his arm. She waved at others who called out to her as they neared the far end and the next door.

"Stella," a quiet voice said.

Both she and Ari glanced down. A young boy and a young girl stood side by side. They were clearly twins, despite the carnival masks they wore, and the boy's doublet jacket matched the girl's dress in color and pattern. The boy held an iron brand, it's end so hot it was almost white. The girl held a pair of iron pliers covered in blood and hair. Behind them was an upright rack with a girl bound to its surface. Her body was covered in burns, and her face was bruised and bloodied to the point of being unrecognizable.

"Oh," Stella said, her voice warmer than it had been with the trio of young woman. "Hello Luca, hello Flora."

The girl, Flora, pointed her pliers at Ari. "This is him, isn't it? It's Ari?"

The boy nodded. "Yes, it must be Ari, surely it is."

"That's right," Stella said, smiling. "Ari is now a member of the family."

The twins took a step towards the man and tugged on his cloak. "Come play Ari," Luca said. His voice was even, and his expression plain. There was no hint of excitement.

"Yes Ari," Flora said. "Please come play with us," she was equally plain in her manner of speech. They were both disturbingly calm for what was happening around them.

Ari didn't respond, only swallowing underneath his mask. He wanted to wake up from this horrible nightmare. He wanted to tear out the glowing sphere in his body and leave this world forever.

"Ari?" Stella said, gazing pointedly at the man. "Luca and Flora are very close with you. In fact, besides myself, they are the only others who are fond of you. You should at least greet them."

"H-hello," Ari managed to say.

"You'll have to forgive him children," Stella said. She placed her hands on her knees and bent down to their height. "Ari has lost his memories, and it will take some time for him to get them back. But rest assured, when he does have them he'll play with you both just like he used to!"

The twins exchanged a glance, then looked up at Ari. "Very well," Luca said.

"We'll wait," Flora said plainly.

Stella beamed at them, then straightened up and took Ari by the arm. "Well then, we must be off. Enjoy yourselves children."

Ari allowed himself to be pulled along. He felt so weak, so powerless, so overwhelmed. He tried his best to block out the screams hammering at his ears. He and the young woman neared the door, which was ajar. Diago stood by it, his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. It seemed he didn't feel the need to join in on the torture happening all around them. The young man shifted away from the wall as the pair approached.

"Diago," Stella said, nodding. The young man with white hair blocked their path. His expression was as calm and devoid of emotion as the first time Ari had met him. The man slowed, remembering the beating he had received. Diago looked him up and down, as if considering doing it again. "Not now Diago," Stella said, seemingly anticipating the same. "Ari has work to do for the master."

The young man turned his attention to her, studying her in the same manner. "I once made you cry," he said, his voice holding the barest hint of curiosity. "I liked it. I want to see it again. I spend many nights thinking of how it could be done."

Stella wore a smile, though her eyes seemed to burn with intensity. "Diago," she said sweetly. "You will never, ever, have that pleasure again. Now kindly move." Without a word the young man stepped to the side. He watched as Ari and Stella passed. The giant door shut behind them, ending the noise. But not the smell.

Stella walked Ari all the way to the final door. She stopped in front of it and let go of the man's arm. Turning to him, she revealed a serious expression. "The Ibezian tower is in the Alamono district. Ask around, you can't miss it. Though the Marquis did not give you a time limit, I will on his behalf. You have two days Ari. Make sure it is done by then, or you will be considered a failure."

Ari took a deep breath, almost gagging on the smell that still pervaded the hall. "okay…"

Stella placed a gloved hand to his cheek and smiled. "You can do it Ari. I've always had high hopes for you. This memory loss is only a minor setback." Ari nodded. Stella let go of his cheek and turned. Hiking the hem of her red and gold dress, she made her way back towards the second hall. The man watched her go for a moment, then turned and entered the darkness of the front entrance.

He emerged back in the courtyard lined with buildings and windows. The giant doors slammed shut behind him. The carriage waited in the center, with both Dik and the driver in the coachman's seat. Ari took shaky steps down the stairs, stopping at the bottom. He fell to his knees. The man ripped away his mask and turned his head up to the nighttime sky.

A scream of unbridled rage escaped his throat.

The sound echoed around the courtyard. Ari screamed and screamed, his face turning red and his eyes wet with tears. He had never been so angry in his life. Righteous, vicious fury filled his body. His fear, his terror, his trembling was gone. He hated everything he had seen inside the red court. He hated everything that he had learned since coming to the new world. He hated the members of the family, and the Marquis of Pain, and everything, everything that was his new life. It was unforgivable. It was unconscionable. Ari could not stop screaming.

"My lord!" Dik cried, scrambling down from the carriage. The hunched man hurried over to him. "My lord what is the matter!"

Ari gripped his hair and pulled at the roots. He beat his chest and ripped at his cloak. He screamed until he could scream no longer. The man slumped forward, barely holding himself up on his hands and knees. He stared down at the cobblestone. Dik reached him and hovered around him with a worried expression.

"My lord please! Tell me what is the matter!"

The man didn't respond for a long, long time. Finally he sniffed, sat up, and picked his mask up from the ground. Setting it in place over his face, Ari got to his feet. "Very well," he murmured to himself. "Very well…"

"M-my lord?" Dik said, wringing his hands.

Ari walked past him without a word, heading towards the coach. He stopped in front of it as the door swung open, but the man didn't move to get inside. "How far a walk is it back to the hill with the crypts."

The driver, his expression hidden under his black mask, held up a finger. Dik hurried up behind Ari. "An hour," the hunched man said. "But surely sir you are not thinking of walking back?"

"I must," Ari said, going back around the carriage to the rear trunk. "I have too much to think about." He gripped the handle and unlocked it, then threw open the lid. His three puppets, stacked on top of each other, stared up at him. "Get out," Ari said, trying to steady his voice. "We're going on foot."

Mariam was on top, and sat straight up. Her eyes had somehow changed from painted wood to something akin to frosted glass. The maiden extracted herself from the trunk, followed by the clowns Ronald and Bozo. The latter's eyes were equally lifelike. They gathered before Ari. "Yes master," Mariam said, bowing her head. "As you wish."

"Don't call me master," Ari said. He turned, sweeping his cloak behind him, and started for the arched tunnel leading out of the plaza. "I've grown to fucking hate that word." Dik, followed by the puppets, hastened to follow.

The tunnel was long, and dark. But Ari could see just fine. His mind was filled with angry thoughts as he walked. His footsteps and those of Dik and the puppets were the only sound. Nobody tried to speak, least of all Ari. The tunnel went on and on, finally ending at a massive iron door. It swung open, and Ari stepped out into a wide boulevard. It was lined with buildings, though there wasn't anyone present on the street. On the far end however, Ari could make out the entrance to another road. Large groups of people streamed past the entrance to the boulevard on the busier street, though no one entered. Nor did the pay any attention as Ari and his companions joined them. All around the man were smells and noises and moving bodies. Carriages and carts lumbered past, and people hung out from balconies and called out to those below. It was surprisingly congested, considering how late it was. Or early. Ari didn't know what hour it was anymore.

With a simmering rage in his heart, the man navigated through the crowds. Dik murmured directions behind him, and Ari followed them in silence. He began to feel like his old self again, now that he was outside the red court, and far from the horror within. He clenched and unclenched his fist. More than once he almost tripped over a dead body in the street, left there as if it was the most common and inane thing in the world. He witnessed a man stabbed in the throat in the entrance to a tavern that rose up many stories, and saw a woman thrown off a balcony on the end of a noose. Those on the balcony laughed as her neck snapped and her body went limp. A donkey trotted past bearing a man tied up with heavy rope. Several stakes were driven through him at different angles, and his head lolled lifelessly as the donkey continued on. A woman called out from an alley as Ari walked past. She promised him young bodies for his pleasure. The man glanced behind her. There were indeed children waiting in the recesses. The rage inside him threatened to boil over.

Ari had come to a decision. Everything, everything about the city of Baccilae seemed rotten to the core. Evil, vile, there was endless suffering everywhere he looked, and he had only traveled through a small fraction of it. And that wasn't even considering what he had seen in the red court. The man finally began to understand escapism as he walked through the crowds. He finally understood why people wished to be something more, to be able to change things. A cynic will always see the world as it is, and never as it could be. He had been powerless in his old life, but that was no longer the case. Ari did have power. And he knew how he wanted to use it.

I'll get rid of the Marquis of Pain he thought. I'll get rid of the entire red court. Pull it out by the roots, end its 'games' and murders, put a stop to everything.

For man is concerned with the outward appearance, but the Lord is concerned only with what lies in the heart.

The heart of the city of Baccilae was twisted and black. If Ari wanted to stop the evil that he saw, he would need to change that. But how? How could he change an entire population? How could he bring about something that had never even been pulled off in his old, modern world? And there was another thing. Ari's ability to bring puppets to life, his only superpower, was entirely dependent on the Marquis. One wrong move, one miscalculated action, and he would lose that power and receive a fate, as the old Ari had put it, worse than death. And after walking through the halls of the red court, Ari knew that claim was true.

The man slowed in the midst of the crowds and gazed up at the nighttime sky. "My lord?" Dik said behind him. "Is everything alright?" People streamed past, many bumping into Ari. He grit his teeth. If he was supposed to visit and murder a sorcerer, then so be it. But he would not do everything as the Marquis expected. Ari would form his own plans. Perhaps he would even figure out a way to spare the man he was supposed to kill, and enlist him in helping Ari take down the red court. He nodded to himself.

Yes. It won't go your way you bastard marquis. The old Ari may have been unable to do anything, but I've already died once. I don't fear death, not anymore. I hardly even fear pain. The only thing I fear is letting this fucking horror show continue, and losing myself by joining in on it. So I'm coming for you. You and all your family. And you won't even know I'm doing it until I've got your giant fucking corpse before me.

With these thoughts, Ari continued on. Dik and the puppets followed, though the hunched man was visibly worried. Ari wasn't so delusional as to think his plans would be easy, but he was determined. And if he failed, he'd simply return to the void, and wait until a new world called him forth. "When we get back to the crypt," Ari said. "I'll raise more puppets. And tomorrow night, we're going to the Ibezian tower."

"Of course my lord," Dik said. "Whatever you wish, I shall assist you!"

Ari glanced over his shoulder at the hunched man. He had a lingering question he wanted to ask. "Who is the Marquis's enemy? Do you know?"

Dik's eyes darted around at the crowds, and his voice lowered. "I cannot say out here my lord. Please, let us speak back at the crypt…"

"Fine," Ari said, turning back to face forward. It hardly mattered in the grand scheme of things. He almost tripped over another corpse in the road, but continued walking.

Once back at the crypt, the puppets on the inside opened the massive stone door. Beyond the tunnel, the first hints of dawn colored the sky. Ari felt tired, and hungry. Dik gathered salted meat and hard bread and served them, along with spiced brandy. Ari didn't mind drinking the dark liquor. Not now. Not after all he had seen. He needed to sleep, and he wouldn't be able to without some help. Dik and the puppets watched as Ari finished his meal, then headed for the stone casket. The hunched man hurried over and prepared to close the lid after he'd settled.

"Wake me up as soon as night falls," Ari said. "We have a lot of work to do."

"Of course my lord," Dik said. He strained as he shifted the lid, then locked Ari into the darkness. The man closed his eyes and did his best to fall asleep.

He was plagued by nightmares. But not those of his time in Baccilae. No, Ari dreamt of his murder in his old world. It must have come to him after witnessing the tortures of the red court. His murder, so pointless, so cruel, so long. It had taken him days to die. The pain was indescribable, and Ari hadn't been the only one killed in that manner. There had been others. In his dreams, he wondered if they too had been sent to the void, and then called somewhere else. He hoped they were doing okay. Them, and everyone else he knew in his old life. As the man began to wake many hours later, he wondered where the old Ari had ended up.

The stone casket shook. The lid grinded as it was slid off. Ari opened his eyes to see Dik peeking down at him. "Is everything alright my lord? I could hear you groaning, even sealed inside. But I did not think it my place to disturb you…"

"Everything's fine," Ari said, sitting up. He stretched, then popped his neck, then climbed out of the casket. It wasn't exactly a comfortable bed, but it felt safe. The man gazed around the mausoleum. The puppets that were imbued with his power gathered a respectable distance away, watching him. They seemed to be waiting for orders. They also appeared more lifelike than before, though the ventriloquist lines around their mouths and ball sockets in their joins were still visible. Ari looked up at the remainder of the puppets. He stepped out of the coffin and walked underneath them. After a moment studying the wooden figures, he closed his eyes and prepared to use his powers.

He assumed if he invoked the Marquis, the giant devil would grant him his powers. After all, Ari had a job to do. He searched for the something that lurked inside him. The man quickly found it. It bubbled up, spreading through his body and filling him. He felt the oily smoke seep out his pores and mouth. More Ari thought. I need all my puppets. I need more…

When he opened his eyes, he saw the ceiling of the mausoleum filled with smoke. The hanging puppets trembled, their limbs convulsing. Dik and the other puppets watched behind Ari. In groups the wooden figures began to drop. The man staggered backwards as the smoke disappeared. This time when the strength left his body, he completely passed out. When Ari regained consciousness, he was surrounded by puppets.

"Are you alright my lord?" Dik said, his brow furrowed with worry.

"I appreciate your concern," Ari said, slowly sitting up. "But you don't need to ask that so much. I'll let you know when I'm not alright."

"V-very well my lord," Dik said, wringing his hands. "Would you like breakfast now?"

"No," Ari said. "Later." He got to his feet. A quick count told him his was surrounded by at least forty puppets. There were still more hanging from the ceiling. It seemed the Marquis had seen fit to only grant him this many. "Everyone!" Ari shouted, his voice echoing around the mausoleum. "Prepare yourself! We're going to the Ibezian tower! We have a date with sorcerer!"

The puppets stared back at him. Their gazes told Ari they understood.

​

 

[Lop]

The Ibezian tower rose up among the spires of Baccilae like a square pillar. Its stone surface was smooth, save for the balconies that poked out from it at random intervals. All forty stories were awash with flickering light behind narrow glass panes. At the top of the tower was a giant stone statue of a maiden. Her arms cradled a stone flag and bow, and her eyes seemingly gazed out over the rest of the city. The Iberzian tower was by no means the tallest structure in the city. That honor went to others, including the great stone cathedrals and palaces. But still, it was an imposing building, and all who gazed up at it were briefly instilled with a sense of dread.

And for good reason.

A strong wind tore past the upper levels, rattling the windows and forcing birds on their perches to take flight. Gregor Bevaulta, one of the greatest necromancers of his generation, cast a brief glance at the sound before turning back to the table before him. He was an elderly man, though anyone who looked at him could tell at a glance he had been handsome once. Even in his old age he retained vestiges of his youth. His back was bent, true, and his fingers gnarled. But his eyes still retained a fierce passion. This sense of passion was no less diminished by the corpse on the table in front of him.

It was a woman, dead for only a few hours. A deep gash ran from her throat to her navel, a cut almost too perfect to have been made by any bladed weapon. But a blade was indeed what had killed her. Gregor didn't know how, or who, nor did he care. He frowned as he used a retractor to widen the gash, then peered at her insides. He would have preferred a corpse that had died of natural causes, as most necromancers did. A mangled body required mending first, and Gregor was no surgeon. He was a sorcerer, plain and simple. But although hundreds died every night in the city of millions, the old man's servants did not always reach them first. As such, he was forced to settle for what he was brought. And tonight, the woman on the table was the finest specimen he had on hand.

"Curious," he said, using a metal rod to lift the heart and peek under it. Though he was no surgeon, he had been at his trade long enough to pick up a few things. One of which was that this woman was suffering from internal rot, and would have died sooner rather than later if she had not been nearly bisected. He let the organ drop back into place, then straightened up and turned to a wash basin. He quickly washed his hands, then dried them on a cloth. "Pazio!" he yelled. "Pazio where are you!"

The door to his workshop opened, and a thin, nervous-looking man hurried through. "Sir?" he said, adjusting his plain jerkin.

Gregor gestured angrily around the workshop. "Where in the hell did you put my paints you doddering ninny!"

Pazio swallowed, then adopted a sheepish grin. "Behind you sir, same shelf as always."

"Hm?" Gregor said, his eyes narrowing. He made sure Pazio was being respectful, then turned and ambled over to the shelf. Muttering to himself, he searched the various glass bottles and vials. The paints he wanted were in the middle. Gregor cast a suspicious glance over his shoulder at Pazio. The younger man remained in the doorway, still looking sheepish. "Hmph," Gregor said, gathering the box and returning to the table. "Come here and help me trace the symbols, my eyes aren't what they used to be." Pazio hurried to the table. "And bring me the damn blades those infernal shades brought over!" The younger man paused, then turned and hurried to a table against the wall. Resting on cloth was a collection of blades. Two of them stood out from the others. They were curved and jagged, like fishermen's harpoons. Attached to their bases were sockets designed to fit over human hands. Pazio took the blades and returned to the table.

"Here you are sir,"

"Hmph," Gregor said, motioning for Pazio to set them down near the corpse. The older man then opened the box and selected several ink wells filled with black liquid. Next he took out a brush, squinting to inspect the bristles. The window rattled behind him, but he ignored it.

"Um…" Pazio began. "S-sir?"

"What," Gregor said. Everything about his assistant irked him, most of all his meek nature.

"T-the window, sir…"

"Don't pay attention to the window!" Gregor shot back. "We have work to do!"

"No sir, outside the window!"

Gregor sighed and turned around. On the other side of the window was a gathering of ravens crowding the outside ledge. The older man closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Of course, why wouldn't they come at this hour. And just as I was getting to work…" He glanced at Pazio. "Well go open it already, that's our patron out there."

"R-right," Pazio said. He edged over to the window, then sided up to the pane. Closing his eyes, he felt around for the latch, then flipped it open. The younger man ducked down and shielded his head as the window flew open. A flock of ravens poured through, followed by a swarm of insects that surged over the sill. The birds circled the room, then congregated back by the window. The insects climbed up over each other next to the flock. Both groups solidified into human forms, then feathers and chitin became flesh and clothing. Two figures now stood in front of the window. The first was a tall man with pale, almost ashen-gray skin. He wore a long, luxurious black coat held in place by a series of gold buckles down the middle, and his hair and goatee were a sharp orange. Next to him stood a girl with frizzled black hair and a long blue dress. Her skin was just as pale as the man's.

Gregor tapped his paintbrush on the table as he regarded them. "Well? Which ones are you again? And close that damned window Pazio, or all the candles will blow out!"

The man with orange hair gave a deep bow, then straightened back up. "My name good sir, is Camlin, and next to me is Esemae," he smiled, revealing pointed teeth. "And it is my great honor to be here in the workshop of such an esteemed magician."

"Flattery will get you nowhere with me you dammed shade. Tell me why you're here, I was just getting started on your master's latest servant."

Camlin rested his hands on the shoulders of the girl next to him. "In truth, my master wished me to bring over Esemae and leave her in your care, if you would be so kind as to indulge such a thing."

"What!" Gregor barked. He paused and coughed, then wiped his mouth. He shot a venomous look at the man with orange hair. "I don't need you dammed puffed-up corpses lurking around my workspace! Hard enough to get anything done with the assistants you give me! I don't need more useless people, living or otherwise!"

Camlin gave him a polite smile. "I understand sir, but Esemae here is far from useless," the girl with frizzy black hair nodded, though her gaze shifted around the workspace, seemingly unconcerned with the conversation. "And our master believes the Marquis of Pain is about to move against you."

Gregor furrowed his brow. "What? Why on earth would that devil come for me? Since you've moved me in this blasted tower I've only made one or two corpse soldiers a night!" he banged his fist on the table. "Whereas before I made dozens! Scores even!" He gestured dismissively. "Bah, I miss my old workshop. Cursed am I for being trapped in here and forgotten, with mere scraps for my art!"

"I understand your frustration sir, but the Marquis of Pain will do anything to spite our master, and it is spite that motivates him to come for you. Your talent is too great to be lost, so Esemae will stay here and protect you."

"If you valued me you'd move me out of this tower, not lock me away like precious silverware! And I'm telling you, nobody is going to come for me! Who would dare even try a thing, this tower is a dammed fortress!"

"Someone might," Camlin said, his voice calm.

"No one is going to come! There isn't a single person in that bloody devils' court foolish enough to try it, you're wasting my time, and that of your master's, you dammed shade! So take that pile of bugs disguised as a girl and get OUT!"

Camlin simply smiled in response.

Many miles away, past the quarters and canals of the densest part of Baccilae, the crypt hill stood with its various ruins, surrounded by its thin moat and the rest of the city. Ari watched within the mausoleum as a team of his puppets rolled away the stone door blocking the entrance. His mind was heavy with thoughts, and his finger anxiously tapped the side of his cloak.

"Dik," he said.

"My lord?" the hunched man replied. Dik wore his usual dirtied jerkin, and smelled just as bad as he always did. The only change in appearance was the crossbow he balanced across his shoulder.

"You said last night you would tell me about the Marquis's enemy. I want to hear about them now, before we leave."

"Ye…yes…" Dik said. He wet his lips, clearly uncomfortable. "In truth, my lord, the Marquis has many enemies. None as powerful as the master of course, oh no, I wouldn't dare suggest such a thing. But if we are going to the Ibezian tower, then it can only be one foe that you face this evening…"

The stone was now completely rolled from the entrance. The puppets waited around it, their lifelike gazes fixed on Ari. "Yes?" the man said, wanting Dik to go on.

"Well…there are some…in this city…that death has little hold over. You put a corpse in the ground, and through means I cannot even begin to guess at, they return to life…though they are nothing like they once were …no no, they are far more dangerous…"

"Ah," Ari said, rolling his eyes. "Vampires then, or zombies. Fantastic."

"Ah, yes, vampires are indeed one such name for them, though I cannot profess to understand what you mean by zombie…"

"It doesn't matter. Do you know their powers? Weak to sunlight? Crosses? Does this world even have crosses?"

"Um," Dik said, wringing his hands. "I believe they are indeed weak to sunlight, or perhaps they just prefer the night? And fire, yes, fire seems to do the trick nicely. Though anything more I do not know, I am but a humble servant."

Ari frowned. A moment later it turned into a tired smile. "That's fine, I'm after a sorcerer anyway, and the Marquis never mentioned any vampires being there. And I've been meaning to thank you. You've been an immense help so far. Don't think I haven't noticed."

Dik blinked in surprise. "O-oh! My lord! Such words are wasted on one such as I! I live to serve, it is my solemn duty!"

"Yeah well, thanks anyway." Ari turned to the puppets. "Come on everyone, let's go."

Forty wooden figures followed the man as he left the mausoleum. Dik guided them in the direction of the tower, and they drew plenty of attention on the way. The nighttime crowds parted, and many whispers and furtive glances were cast their way. It seemed few knew what to make of the strange group. Ari took comfort in the fact that the puppets looked eerily alive the longer they were imbued with his power. The only trouble they received was when a crowd of drunken men bumped into the procession as they crossed an arched bridge over a canal.

"The hell is this!" a large man exclaimed. He let out a laugh and smacked the rear of one of the courtier puppets. "Where's the party girl! Take me with you!"

The courtier stared a beat at the drunken man, then glanced at Ari, as if awaiting instructions. Ari frowned under his mask, his thoughts conflicted. He quickly decided to leave it up to the puppet. If they didn't care, then neither did he. He had a mission after all. "Do what you want," Ari said, then continued on. The courtier puppet turned back to the man and delivered a quick jab to his throat. He coughed, gasping, then teetered backwards over the stone railing of the bridge. A large splash followed. His friends cursed and spat. Several of them drew knives, and all of them rushed the puppets. A rabbit wearing a bow and a priest in long vestments were both stabbed. The blades seemed to have little effect on the wooden figures. "What are you waiting for?" Ari called over his shoulder. "You always have my permission to defend yourselves."

Upon hearing this, all forty puppets mobbed the drunken men. The attackers were hefted above the wooden figures, then tossed over the bridge. The men cried out as they hit the water. Ari wore a satisfied smile under his mask as he continued on. They passed more canals and bridges, and navigated the endless maze of streets. Every part of the city was packed with buildings, making Ari feel as if he were in the bottom of a steep, stone canyon. The starry sky was only ever visible in a thin line above, the buildings blocking the full view. Finally they arrived at a narrow plaza with steps leading down to the water. A series of gondolas were moored to it, with the boatmen waiting for passengers on the steps.

"Why are we here?" Ari said, furrowing his brow in confusion.

In response, Dik pointed through a narrow gap in the stone buildings. Ari followed his finger, spotting a massive square tower with a large statue atop it. "That is the Ibezian tower my lord, but it is only accessible across a single bridge, and it is heavily guarded. I would humbly suggest we approach from the water…"

Ari glanced at the hunched man. "You're actually pretty smart, huh?"

"Again," Dik said, glancing down. "Such words are unnecessary my lord. I am a servant, nothing more."

"Well I would have just stormed the bridge," Ari said, clapping the hunched man on the back. "So good job." He glanced at the boatmen, who had noticed the crowd of puppets and stared suspiciously. "Do we have any money to pay them?"

Dik shifted his crossbow to his other shoulder and gave a slight shrug. "Forgive me my lord, I assumed we would just take the boats for ourselves."

"Ah, yes…"

It wasn't the nicest thing to do, but Ari got over it by making a silent promise to return the boats after they were done. He raised a hand and gestured with two fingers. "Get us some boats." The puppets surged down the steps. The boatmen cried out. Like the drunken men, they were picked up and tossed into the water. When the puppets were done securing the gondolas, they turned and stared up at Ari. "Get in," the man said, his cloak sweeping behind him as he descended the steps. Dik quickly followed, careful not to trip on the hem. The puppets began piling into the gondolas. The ones near the rear picked up the poles and readied to depart. Ari climbed into the nearest one, followed by Dik. The mooring lines were loosed, then the flotilla set off down the canal.

Ten gondolas slipped through the water at a rapid clip. The puppets were skilled with their poles, seemingly drawing on endless strength. Left, then right, then straight ahead. The Ibezian tower grow larger and larger. The canal widened, then opened up into a small lake with the rocky base of the tower dominating the middle. A staircase zigzagged down the top of the base to a dock at the bottom. Ari could make out guards with lanterns standing idly on it. He frowned and rubbed his chin under his mask.

The man had given his mission a decent amount of thought. He wasn't well versed in attacking places, but he was familiar with how police and soldiers raided buildings. Speed and surprise were key, but luckily his task was made easier by the fact that there were only two entrances; the bridge and the water. The guards quickly noticed the approaching gondolas and grabbed their weapons. They appeared to be dressed in fanciful tights and sleeves, with breastplates and styled helms. As Ari's boat grew closer, he could also make out halberds and crossbows. The guards didn't even bother yelling anything. Those with the crossbows raised and let loose their bolts. Ari ducked as the projectiles whipped past. Dik triggered his own crossbow and immediately began reloading. A large knight next to Ari received a crossbolt that pierced his shoulder. The man glanced up at the towering puppet.

"Does it hurt?"

"A little," the knight rumbled, then ripped the bolt out and tossed it in the water. Ari turned his attention back to the dock. The first of the gondolas knocked against the wooden planks. The guards with halberds drove them at the puppets to keep them back, but the wooden figures responded by grabbing the spearpoints. They pulled their wielders into the water with ease, then scrambled onto the dock.

The whole affair was over in under a minute. Ari took the hand of a large wooden bear, then was pulled up out of his gondola. He smoothed out his cloak, then craned his neck to stare up at the Ibezian tower. Including the rocky base it was built on, it seemed as tall as a skyscraper. Ari's gaze was drawn to the sound of shouting. Guards at the top of the rock peered down at the dock below. The man glanced at his puppets. "Can any of you climb?" The puppets all nodded. "I want half of you to scale up this rock and then keep climbing the tower. Don't stop until you reach the top. Avoid killing if you can, and I absolutely need the sorcerer alive, no question. The other hal-" he was interrupted by bolts raining down from above. Ari flinched as they struck the dock planks around him. "Shit, other half with me, let's go go go!"

The puppets split off into two groups. Twenty began climbing the rocky base, and twenty charged up the dock stairway. Ari climbed the steps in the middle of the group, ducking every time a new wave of bolts was released from above. The puppets that were hit didn't seem to mind, though a few were knocked off the stairs. They fell to the water below, but quickly surfaced and began climbing the rocks instead.

As Ari and his forces made their way to the base of the tower, Gregor Bevaulta leaned over his worktable at the topmost floor. The necromancer scowled in the light of the candles, his attention fixed on sewing the curved blades to the female corpses hands. Pazio held spools of string next to the older man. The undead creature was already resurrected, and stared up at the ceiling without a hint of emotion or feeling. Behind Gregor stood the vampire known as Esemae. The older man finished sewing, then handed his tools to Pazio. Washing his hands in the basin, Gregor cast an irritated glance at the small vampire.

"Are you just going to stand there the whole time? There's other rooms here you know!"

"I was told to watch over you," Esemae said, her expression disinterested.

"Well go do it somewhere else! I don't like being watched while I work! This is art you know!"

A distant horn blew out beyond the window. Pazio's eyes grew wide as he tried to balance all the tools he held in his arms. "S-sir!"

Gregor turned on the younger man. "What is it you doddering ninny! Don't you start up with me too, or I'll throw you both out!"

"N-no sir! That horn, that's the guard horn!"

Esemae tensed up, her bored expression suddenly growing alert. Gregor scowled and glanced out the window. "Guard horn? What are those fools doing down there…"

"It means an attack sir! We're in danger, we should flee!"

"You think I would still be here if fleeing was an option!" Gregor shook an angry fist as Pazio. "I've been cooped up in here for months! If I can't leave, then nobody else can!"

"But it's the Marquis of Pain sir! They say he's a demon, with a court full of demonic servants!"

"He's no demon," Gregor said, turning back to the undead woman on the table. "If he was-"

Esemae interrupted them but spinning and sliding back along the ground away from the window. A moment later the glass shattered and wooden figures spilled in. Pazio screamed. Esemae sprinted forward and slide tackled a puppet back through the opening. She lashed out with a fist, catching one of her foes in the head and knocking it clean of its neck. She picked up a long candlestick and impaled another, then used it to start bashing away at the rest. Glass could be heard breaking in the other rooms as well.

"Get up!" Gregor yelled, slapping the undead woman's shoulder. "Protect your master!" The corpse sat up, stiff as a board, then swung her legs off and stood. She lashed out with both blade hands and caught a puppet across the chest. A moment later she was swarmed by wooden figures. Their weight brought her down to the ground. Esemae continued fighting near the window. Her candlestick was bent to the point of breaking.

Many stories below, Ari climbed up a long, winding staircase. In front of him and behind were his puppets. They were all armed with weapons they had taken off the guards, and many of their clothes had been torn. Several had crossbolts sticking out of them like pincushions. Ari carried his cloak around him, careful not to trip. Every floor so far had contained guards and numerous rooms. The man wasn't concerned with clearing all of them, just getting to the top where the sorcerer was. Dik walked in front of him with his crossbow loaded. The hunched man peered up at the staircase, searching for any guards that might poke their head into view.

"Shit," Ari murmured, pausing to lift his mask and wipe his brow. "I'm really out of shape…"

"Just a little further my lord!" Dik said. "We're almost there!"

"We better be," Ari said. "You would think they'd have some kind of old-timey elevator with all these tall buildings in the city." A cry echoed out from above. Ari and his puppets glanced up. There was a platform built into the side of a higher level, and a dozen guards with crossbows were gathered on it. They took aim directly at Ari. "Fuck!" the man yelled.

Time seemed to slow. Ari felt as if he were staring into the face of death. Despite having already died once, his heart pumped and his pulse quickened. The guards released their bolts. Ari closed his eyes. No was his only thought. In a half-second something stirred within him, then heavy liquid surged through his body. Ari felt as if he were coming undone at the seams. His form dispersed into a black cloud. The bolts shot through the smoke and clattered into the far wall. The man sensed rather than saw that one of them had struck Dik in the leg. The hunched man cried out, and suddenly Ari's body drew back into itself and solidified. He was naked, with his clothing on the ground around him.

"What the…" he said, blinking. His puppets clamored up the stairs on all fours and overtook the guards as they were reloading. The men screamed as they were thrown off the ledge down the central shaft of the tower. Ari watched them plummet past. He picked up his cloak and wrapped it around himself, then turned to Dik. "Are you alright?"

The hunched man sucked in air through his teeth as he gripped his leg. "Just a small wound my lord! Worry not, and go on ahead!"

Ari gestured at the large bear puppet behind him. "Pick him up and carry him." The wooden animal nodded and obeyed.

"Really my lord," Dik said. "You can go-"

"Enough," Ari said, then quickly ascended the steps. The puppets behind him followed. The man briefly dwelled on the fact that he had seemingly turned into a cloud of smoke, but decided to worry about it later.

At the top level, Ari found doors broken off their hinges and shattered windows. The sounds of commotion drifted from one of the rooms. There was shouting, and breaking glass, and the sounds of someone crying. Ari hurried in the direction of the noise. He passed a smashed door and found a wide workshop filled with broken furniture. The crying came from a young man curled up in the corner, and the shouting came from an older man standing on a table and shaking his fist. Ari spied a swarm of insects surging back and forth like an ocean wave. The creatures fought against his puppets, who were doing their best to stomp and smash the insects with their fists.

"What the hell is that?" Ari yelled, pointing at the insects.

"Who the hell are you!" the man on the table yelled back.

Ari ignored him and gestured at his puppets. "Stop attacking those bugs!" The wooden figures paused, then straightened up. As one they backed away. The swarm of insects shifted left, then right, then shuddered. They pressed together into the form of a person. A moment later the insects transformed into a girl. She had pale skin, frazzled black hair, and a torn blue dress. "Jesus…" Ari said, regarding the angry-looking girl. He turned his attention to the angry-looking man. "Are you the sorcerer?"

"So what if I am!" the older man yelled.

"You better be," Ari said, tapping his mask. "Because we need to talk. I have a lot of questions I want to ask you…"

​

 

[Lop]

A tense silence settled in the top room of the Ibezian tower. Shadow servant, necromancer, and vampire faced off with each other. Ari stared at Gregor, then glanced at Esemae. Esemae stared at Gregor, then glanced at Ari. Gregor stared at Ari, then glanced at Esemae. The puppets stood in a circle around them, clearly waiting for orders.

"Questions?" Gregor repeated, narrowing his eyes and turning his attention fully to Ari. "Talk? Are you not an assassin sent by that dammed Marquis?"

"I am," Ari said. "But I don't want to kill you if I can help it."

Esemae lowered herself slightly, adopting a stance. She resembled a tiger ready to pounce. "Capture me then?" Gregor said. "To be taken to your court and endlessly tortured?" he shook his head. "No, I think not. I'd sooner throw myself from the window of this tower."

"The Marquis wants your head," Ari said. "But I want something different."

Gregor's suspicious expression remained. "How is that possible…you're his servant, are you not? And he, your master?"

Instead of answering, Ari simply gave the older man a meaningful look. Esemae let out an angry cry and launched herself in a blur towards the man. On pure instinct alone, Ari disappeared in an inky cloud of smoke. The vampire sailed through him, impacting against the puppets behind the man. The smoke swirled together and formed into Ari again. He took a deep, shaky breath, then backed away. The puppets fell onto Esemae and tried to restrain her. The vampire exploded into a swarm of insects and fought back.

"Mariam!" Ari shouted.

The maiden puppet appeared beside him. Her left arm was missing, and a gash ran diagonally down her face. There was no blood however, and she did not look like she was in any pain. "My lord."

"I'm leaving those puppets fighting that insect girl with you. Keep her restrained, then retreat from here. Split up, don't let anything follow you back."

"Yes my lord," Mariam said.

"Bozo! Ronald!"

The two clown puppets joined Mariam. "Master?" Bozo said. He had several crossbolts sticking out of him, though Ronald was relatively unscathed.

"Grab the sorcerer and enough puppets to cover our escape. Let's go!"

Esemae's insects thrashed with the puppets surrounding her. She switched forms quickly, solidifying to lash out, then splitting apart again to envelope her opponents. Bozo and Ronald ran to the table and swept up Gregor. "Put me down you dammed dolls!" the older man yelled.

"Dik!" Ari yelled, heading for the door. "Can you make it with that wound until we get back?"

The hunched man's face was pale, but he gave Ari a pained smile as he rested in the arms of the large bear puppet. "The bolt has not hit anything major my lord! Just a bit of bone! Nothing to worry yourself over!"

Ari nodded, then signaled for the bear puppet to follow. The man left the tower room and headed for the stairs. Bozo and Ronald followed, carrying a struggling Gregor. The bear puppet and Dik, as well as ten other puppets, brought up the rear. The remaining wooden figures fought to restrain Esemae. The vampire sent them flying against the walls, but more and more fell on top of her and struck back.

Ari hastened down the stairs. He scooped up his mask where it had fallen when he'd transformed the first time, then continued on. The puppets descended behind him. "Unhand me!" Gregor yelled. "I won't be nabbed like some commoner off the streets!" Ronald and Bozo held him aloft like a board, despite his protests. Ari glanced out each window he passed. The stairs that wrapped around three of the tower's sides only showed the small lake and the surrounding city. However, the side that faced the bridge entrance revealed a large gathering of torches. The man could only assume it was reinforcements to secure the tower.

"We're headed for the dock!" Ari called over his shoulder. The puppets acknowledge his command by redoubling their pace. The man allowed a knight to scoop him up and carry him in his arms. Down, down, down they went, until they reached the bottom of the tower. The group emerged out on the rocky base and headed for the last staircase connecting to the dock. Ari could make out the end of the bridge from his angle. It was filled with guards bearing torches and halberds. The puppets carried him, Gregor, and Dik down to the docks, then everyone piled into the gondolas. They only needed two, though they filled them up completely. The boats were cast off and began gliding out across the water.

Ari watched over his shoulder as they entered back into the narrow canal. The Ibezian tower was quickly obscured by the tall stone buildings lining the waterway. The man's gaze shifted to Gregor, who looked furious. He then noticed Dik. The hunched man had passed out in the arms of the bear puppet, his face pale and drenched with sweat. "Shit," Ari said. "Necromancer, can you help my…" he didn't know what to call Dik. "My…companion?"

Gregor cast an irritated look at the hunched man. "Not in this boat I can't. And why would I help you?"

"Consider it a condition of sparing your life, so quickly tell me where you can help him." Ari assumed there were no medical supplies back in the mausoleum. He wasn't even sure if it was wise to bring Gregor back there.

The older man glared at Ari, as if he were about to curse at him. Instead he exhaled and rolled his eyes. He glanced to the buildings lining the left of the canal, then to the buildings on the right. Finally his attention turned to the canal itself. Gregor pointed at an intersection where the waterway branched off in two directions. "Go right, there's an apothecary's shop, and I know the owner. Though I doubt he'll be pleased for me to barge in at this hour."

"It's not a trap? I'm warning you, your life depends on this."

"Do you want me to save the hunchback or not!" Gregor shot back.

Ari regarded the older man with narrowed eyes, then gestured at the puppets steering the gondolas with their poles. "Turn right here." The wooden figures obeyed, and the gondolas angled down the new canal. People walked along the raised stone streets on either side, though they didn't seem to notice the figures in the boats. The noises of the city were as loud as ever, and the waters beneath the gondolas reeked of refuse. Gregor pointed at one of the docks that lined the raised stone sides.

"There, dock us there." The puppets shifted the gondolas to the planks, secured them, then climbed out. Gregor knocked away the hands of Bozo and Ronald as they tried to pick him back up. "I can walk myself damn you!" Ari nodded at the two clown puppets, signaling it was alright. They climbed up the wooden dock stairs and joined the crowds moving along the water's edge. "There's the shop," Gregor said, pointing. The stone buildings were all jammed together, forming a continuous wall. Each one had several entrances, and the one the older man pointed out had a sign hanging over it depicting a faded mortar and pestle. The windows were dark, and the shutters latched. Gregor went up to the door and glanced in irritation over his shoulder at Ari. He faced forward and pounded on the wood. "Phillipe! Phillipe open up you old bastard! It's Gregor! I know you're in there!" There was no reply. "Phillipe I swear by all that's holy I'll break down this door unless you open it! The old man pounded the door again. A minute passed, then movement was heard on the other side.

"Gregor?" a muffled voice said.

"Yes it's Gregor, open up!"

The other side was silent, then something pressed against the door. "How do I know you're not someone pretending to be Gregor? How do I know you're not a thief come to rob me?"

"Would a thief know you tried to fuck your cousin every chance you got when we were younger? Open up, unless you want me to go into more detail!"

Again the person on the other side was silent. Ari peered nervously up and down the street, but the groups of people passed with hardly a glance. Latches were heard unlocking, then a heavy chain dropped. The door swung open, revealing a wizened man with gaunt features. He held a candlestick and cleared his throat. "Come in…"

Back at the Ibezian tower, Esemae picked up a worktable and swung it with all her might. It impacted into a puppet and shattered it to pieces, along with the table. The vampire snarled, spinning to catch another puppet. They locked hands, each trying to overpower the other. Esemae burst into her insect form and swarmed the wooden figure, then retreated as more puppets tried to leap on her. The sound of guards shouting in the lower levels drifted up, but the girl ignored them. She reformed, grabbed an iron hammer off a shelf behind her, and swung it. It caught a puppet in the arm and sent them reeling. The remaining puppets quickly circled her, their eyes searching for an opening. Esemae's shoulders sagged as she held the hammer at her side. Her dress was in tatters, her frizzled hair clumped together, and her face smeared with dark blood.

A sound like screeching and flapping leather was heard outside the broken windows. A moment later a river of bats surged through the opening and circled the room. Puppets were caught up in the flurry of wings and torn apart. Mariam watched, then both her legs were ripped off as she was caught up by the flying animals. Another puppet caught her, though its arm was quickly torn away as well. The remaining puppets retreated through the door, though only a small number of bats followed. Esemae was left alone in the room with the swarm. She dropped her hammer, then slowly straightened up. A flock of ravens entered after the bats and transformed into Camlin, the red-haired vampire. His expression was serious, his eyes quickly searching the room.

A disembodied voice with multiple, discordant tones echoed out from the circling bats. "Esemae," it said. The jarring sound made the girl flinch. "Esemae where is the necromancer."

She bowed her head. "I…"

"Gone?" the voice said. "Dead?"

"Gone," Esemae said, her eyes fixed on the ground in shame.

"How," the voices demanded. Camlin remained where he was, his serious expression boring into Esemae.

"Puppets," the girl said, her voice growing quiet. "They…climbed up the sides of the tower and came in through the windows…"

"Puppets," the voices repeated. The bats screeched as they circled, their wings flapping harder. Several broke off and swooped dangerously close to Esemae's head. "And you are sure the necromancer is alive?"

The vampire nodded, her gaze still downcast. "Yes…the man with them…he said he didn't want to kill the necromancer if he could help it…"

"This is most disappointing Esemae. Gregor Bevaulta was an important servant of ours. His loss is unacceptable."

"Forgive me," Esemae said, closing her eyes.

The bats tightened their circle around the room, then drew back, as if taking a breath. "You will track down his abductor and kill him," the discordant voices said. "Then return Gregor to us. Both you and Camlin. Even if you have to enter the red court itself. Do not show yourself in our presence until this is done."

"Yes master," Esemae said meekly.

With that the bats changed direction and angled for the window. They exited with a flurry of wings, and then they were gone. Esemae and Camlin were left alone in the room, surrounded by broken furniture, smashed glass, and the limbs of destroyed puppets. Below echoed the voices of the guards and they made their way up the tower. Esemae dared to look up and meet Camlin's gaze. The ginger vampire's expression was cold, and devoid of mercy. "This does not bode well for you Esemae. And you have made me look like a fool. You will pay for that." The girl vampire simply nodded, then wiped the smeared blood off her face with her arm. Camlin turned to the window. "Come." He exploded into a flock of ravens and flew out. Esemae collapsed into her insect form and surged after him.

Several streets away in the apothecary, Ari watched as Gregor tended to Dik. The hunched man lay on a table, surrounded by lit candles and lanterns. The apothecary owner, Phillipe, stood by a shelf. His gaze shifted nervously from Ari, to Dik and Gregor, then to the puppets standing around the room. Next to the shop owner was a younger woman and a small boy. Both looked equally nervous, though nobody spoke. Ari only wore his cloak wrapped around him like a blanket, as well as his mask on his face. The rest of his clothing was still back at the tower.

"There," Gregor said, pulling out the bolt from the opposite side of the entry wound. "I had to push it completely through, or it would have torn up this man's leg if I pulled it out. Phillipe, get me some salve, a hot brand, needles, and thread." The shop owner nodded, then gestured at the woman and boy. They turned to the shelves and gathered the materials. Gregor glanced over his shoulder at Ari. "Your hunchback will live, at least as far as I can tell. Now I will ask if the same can be said for myself."

"Don't call him a hunchback," Ari said, adjusting the cloak he wore. "And there are several more conditions that need to be met before I can guarantee your life."

"Well?" Gregor said, accepting the items from the woman and boy. "Spit it out, what are they?" Ari didn't respond. The old man paused his work and looked over his shoulder. Ari gestured with his head at the shop owner and his family. Gregor sighed. "Phillipe, take your daughter and grandson and leave. The less you're involved with this, the better." The shop owner swallowed, then ushered the woman and boy to the next room. A puppet slammed the door shut behind them. Gregor nodded at Ari. "Alright, they're gone. Speak your terms."

The man took a moment to collect his thoughts. There was a lot he wanted to say, but he still wasn't sure of the crotchety necromancer before him. "I've become a part of the Marquis's family recently, and killing you was supposed to be the final test. But I don't want to serve the Marquis. In fact, I hate him, and every member of his family."

Gregor dabbed Dik's wounds with a salve, eliciting a groan from the hunched man. He spoke without taking his eyes of his work. "That's quite unusual. That devil's servants are quite fanatical, and loyal."

"Well I'm not. I want to stop the Marquis and put an end to all his evil bullshit."

The older man snorted. "Good God, I've never heard of such a ridiculous thing."

"The problem," Ari continued. "Is that my superpowers were given to me by the Marquis, and he decides when I can use them. If I want to stop him, I have to figure out a way to change that."

Gregor didn't respond for a few moments. He began sowing the top wound shut. "Well good luck with that I suppose…"

"You're a sorcerer or whatever, shouldn't you know something about it?"

"And why would I? I don't know anything about the Marquis or his power, nor do I know anything about you."

"I was told I can give life to the lifeless."

Gregor arched an eyebrow, though he continued sewing. Finishing and cutting the thread, he gestured at a nearby puppet. "Help me turn him over." The puppet glanced at Ari, who nodded. Dik was carefully turned onto his stomach. Gregor selected a new needle and threaded it. "Would that not make you a necromancer then? It certainly sounds similar to what I do."

"I don't know," Ari said. "When I use my powers, black smoke comes out of my body and goes into the puppets."

Gregor frowned. "Black smoke…well, isn't that interesting."

"Have you heard of it?"

"Of course not," the older man said, squinting at the wound he was sewing. "My art involves invocations and glyphs. Not smoke."

Ari fought against the impatience building inside him. "Let me just remind you, your life depends on you helping me out here."

Gregor finished sewing, cut the string, then set down his tools. He turned on Ari and threw up his hands. "Well what do you want from me then! I told you I've never heard of black smoke magic. Necromancy is my trade, nothing more!"

"You can't tell me anything? Give me just ONE reason to spare your life."

Gregor crossed his arms. "Then show me your dammed smoke magic, I won't know anything until you do."

Ari looked around. He spotted a discarded cloth doll by the door. It clearly belonged to the grandson of the shop-owner. The man closed his eyes, then clenched his muscles. A small bit of liquid stirred inside him. It seeped up his throat, then out of his mouth. Ari opened his eyes and watched the thin trail snake through the air and coil around the doll. He was thankful the Marquis had allowed him to use a bit of power, though he wondered if the giant monster was aware he was being betrayed. Gregor watched with narrowed eyes as the smoke entered the doll. A moment later it sat up, then glanced curiously around the room. The older man rubbed his chin. "Hmm. How did you…obtain these powers. You said the Marquis gave them to you?"

"From what I understand I spent a year in a stone coffin. That somehow gave me my powers."

"From what you understand?" Gregor repeated, his tone spiteful. "You guess? Fat lot of nothing you know…you'll never last if you try and fight the Marquis" he ambled over to the doll and picked it up. The cloth figure kicked its legs, but didn't seem to mind. Gregor turned it over in his hand.

"Well?" Ari said.

"This is only a guess," Gregor said, holding up the doll in front of his face by its arm. The cloth figure waved at the older man. "But if it's not necromancy, then it's some sort of alchemical art. You can't just make non-living things come to life, there either has to be a lingering bit of soul still attached to the body, a spiritual possession, or a transference."

"Transference?"

Gregor nodded, then let go of the doll. It fell harmlessly to its feet and gazed back up at the older man. "That's right, transference. Or transmutation, I don't know the proper term. Your master is probably harvesting souls and somehow enabling you to put them into these puppets. If it's alchemy, that would also explain why I saw you turn into a cloud of smoke. That art is all about the transformation of matter."

Ari glanced around the room full of puppets. They stared back, seemingly nonplussed. "You mean…all these puppets have people's souls in them?"

"I told you it's just a guess, but yes, that's what I'd wager. Not that they're the people themselves, trapped in new bodies. No, that wouldn't quite work. The Marquis probably mashed and molded the souls into something new. Like a blacksmith. Iron and a sword are two completely different things, though they're both made of the same substance."

Ari felt sick to his stomach. Had he been stealing people's mangled souls each time he used his power? The man walked to a nearby chair and steadied himself. "Shit…"

"What, already regretting this?" Gregor said, his tone mocking. "You couldn't stop the Marquis if you wanted to. It would take a monster to stop a monster, and a monster you clearly are not. A little mouse, scrambling about, I would think."

Ari gripped the back of the chair, then looked up and met the older man's gaze. "I will stop the Marquis. And I will do it my way. I don't care what you think."

Gregor snorted. "We'll see about that, just leave me out of it."

"Tell me…how can I use my power without the Marquis's permission?"

The old man approached a wash basin in the corner and submerged his hands. "I don't know anything about how you got them, that coffin bit sounds like what the shades do. Though if you want the same powers, separate from the Marquis, I'd imagine you'd have to learn alchemy yourself."

Ari dwelled on the necromancer's words. Could he really do such a thing? Learn alchemy? It was more fantasy nonsense, but Ari was quickly getting over his aversion to it. It takes a monster to stop a monster. That's what Gregor had said, but Ari didn't agree. Everything the Marquis did, he was determined to do the opposite. Where the was torture, Ari would heal. Where there was murder, Ari would spare. Where there was suffering, Ari would comfort. He had to act this way, or he would be lost in a hell even worse than the one he was already in. The man knew that much instinctively. The only problem was that his powers apparently stole souls and put them in puppets. Ari would have to figure out a way to circumvent that.

"I've decided you're coming back with me to my crypt. You're going to help me take down the Marquis."

"The hell I am!" Gregor yelled, turning from the wash basin. "You're a fool, I can already tell, and I will have no business with fools! And I already serve one monster, I don't need to rush into the clutches of another!"

"It's that, or death." Ari said, his voice and gaze firm. He was lying of course, or at least he hoped he was. But he needed Gregor to believe his bluff, or he had already lost. The older man narrowed his eyes, his expression growing furious.

"Fool. Idiot. Ass!" He stomped his foot on the ground. "From one prison to another! Will I never be able to pursue my art in peace!"

"Perhaps someday soon, if you help me. There's one more matter. The Marquis expects your head, but if I let you live, I won't have any proof of my mission's success…"

Gregor glared at Ari for a long, tense moment. The puppets continued to watch against the walls. The older man's features softened, and then he let out a weary sigh. "Well that part's easy at least. Only a handful of people know what I look like, and I guarantee it's not the Marquis or his family. My shade masters have ensured that much. You just need to find another old man's head and deliver it. I don't imagine the Marquis will do anything but mount it like a trophy."

Ari nodded. "Alright. Where do I find an old man's head?"

Gregor made an angry gesture. "Do I have to think of everything! This city is full of dead old men! Pick one up off the street!"

Ari arched an eyebrow. "We'll have to work on that attitude problem of yours."

"Bah," Gregor said, then grumbled to himself.

With Dik's wounds sewed, Ari and the puppets left the apothecary. Gregor accompanied them, though his angry expression remained. Dik was carried by the bear puppet. The hunched man was still unconscious, but at least the color had returned to his cheeks. They found a dead elderly man surprisingly quickly. He lay in the gutter alongside one of the streets, half submerged in watery waste. The puppets tore off his head, then dunked it in the canal to clean off the refuse. Once back at the crypt, the puppets unrolled the stone, and the group entered. Gregor glanced around at the mausoleum's interior.

"You live here? It's nothing but a tomb, and it reeks."

"Well it's home," Ari said. He had the puppets lay Dik inside his tent in the corner.

Gregor glanced up at the puppets hanging from the ceiling. "Good God, how morbid. I can't stay here."

"Too bad," Ari said. "There's food in those crates over there. Help yourself."

The older man ambled over to them, grumbling to himself. Ari slowly sat down on the floor. He was tired, and his only clothing was the cloak he had wrapped around himself and the mask on his face. He took off the disguise and rubbed his eyes. As Gregor ate and drank spiced brandy, Ari considered his options. He had lost quite a few puppets in the assault on the tower, and he had no idea what had happened to Mariam and the others he had left behind. He hoped they were okay, especially considering they might harbor people's souls. After an hour had passed, Ari's thoughts and worries were interrupted by a knock on the mausoleum door. The man quickly got to his feet.

"Hide in that coffin," he said, pointing at Gregor.

"What!" the old man yelled.

"Now."

Gregor obeyed, albeit angrily. When he had been sealed inside by a puppet, Ari nodded at the others to open the door. The wheel shuddered as it was rolled out of the way. Stella was revealed behind it. The young woman wore a black and gold dress, and her hair was done up in an elaborate style with gold pins. She still wore the black domino mask over her eyes. "Ari," Stella said, a warm smile on her face. She entered and made to hug the man, but stopped and recoiled as she got close. "Oh my Ari. You smell dreadful! When was the last time you took a bath? And where on earth are your clothes?"

"Haven't bathed in a while," Ari admitted. "And my clothes were lost." He studied the young woman, his expression guarded even under his mask. "Why are you here?"

Stella's warm smile returned. "The Marquis was of course aware that you invoked his powers frequently this evening. May I assume you were successful in your mission?"

Ari nodded and gestured at one of the puppets. The wooden figure brought over the wrapped head they had taken from the corpse in the gutter. "Yes, the necromancer is dead."

Stella stared at Ari for a few moments, her smile remaining. Her eyes however pierced through the slits in his mask with a strange intensity. The man felt greatly uncomfortable, but did his best to hide it. "Hmm," Stella said, looking him up and down. "Very well Ari. I'm so pleased to hear it, and so too, will the Marquis. Come, we will go to the red court, wash you up, clothe you, and then it is time for your welcome feast."

"Welcome feast?" Ari said.

Stella nodded, her smile growing coy. "Oh yes Ari. And I promise it will be oh so enjoyable for all involved. Especially you."

​

 

[Lop]

Ari was uncomfortable.

He stood in the middle of a pool in what he could only assume was a cavern. The pool itself was tiled with marble and surrounded by grotesque statues that replenished the water through various spouts. Stalactites hung down from the rocky ceiling, and the walls were just as roughly hewn and uneven. The only light came from somewhere under the water. It colored the pool in a bluish-green tint, and cast the statues lining the edge in shimmering movement. Ari wasn't alone in the pool either. He was surrounded by naked women wearing strange masks. They had attempted to scrub his body, but the man had kept them away. Ari hadn't exactly been celibate in his old life, but he was also somewhere in the depths of the red court, and everything about the place put him on edge. He was in no mood to be washed by naked women, beautiful or otherwise.

A woman tried to approach him again with a brush. Ari already had a brush, and waved her away for what seemed the umpteenth time. He finished knocking the dirt from his forearm, then glanced below the water. A sigh escaped his lips and echoed around the cavernous room. "Is something the matter my lord?" a woman asked.

Ari wasn't about to admit that his manhood was smaller in this world than it had been in the other. He didn't read fiction, but he was vaguely familiar with its cliches, and none of them had ever touched on that subject. "It's nothing," Ari said. He turned and waded towards the staircase on the far end of the pool. The masked women tried to approach him as he passed, but he shooed them away and climbed the stairs. Stella waited at the top with an amused smile. She was flanked by two other women, thankfully clothed in what Ari could only assume were renaissance servant uniforms. They both held towels and waited for him to reach the top.

"Why Ari," Stella said, covering her smile with a gloved hand. "It's quite unusual for you not to enjoy the company of women. Have your tastes perhaps changed since leaving the crypt? We have servants of all kinds, young and old, men and women, and of course everything in between. We even have those from distant lands, if you've grown bored of the complexation of Baccilae's stock."

Ari stopped the servants from approaching and took their towels. He dried himself with his back to Stella, though his voice echoed off the surrounding marble and rock. "My tastes are whatever I feel at any given moment, and in this moment, I would have preferred to bathe alone," he gave her a pointed look over his shoulder.

Stella laughed. "Why Ari, what a curious answer. You were never so opinionated before…"

"May I ask what you're doing here?" Ari said. He took the towel to his head and vigorously dried himself. His muffled voice came out underneath the cloth. "Wasn't bringing me here in the carriage enough?"

"Hmm," Stella said, looking him up and down. "Perhaps I am like you, and prefer what I prefer in any given moment. Perhaps right now, I prefer watching you…"

"Right," Ari said, finishing drying himself. He tossed one of the towels back to a servant, and wrapped the other around his waist. "Didn't you promise me new clothes?"

"Careful with that tone Ari," Stella said. Despite her words, she still wore a smile, though her eyes showed she was serious.

"Apologies, but there's a draft in the room and I'm cold."

"Well then," Stella said, holding out her hand. "Let us go get you those new clothes I promised…" Ari took her hand, using the other to hold up his towel. They left the cavernous room and entered into a tall hallway lined with arches and columns. The only other people Ari had seen since entering were masked servants, which he was grateful for. He had no wish to encounter the white-haired Diago again, or any other members of the Marquis' family. The man certainly wasn't looking forward to whatever passed for a feast in the red court. "Tell me Ari," Stella said, interrupting his thoughts. "Have your memories returned yet?"

"Not yet," Ari said. "But hopefully soon."

A coy smile appeared on Stella's face. "Hm, perhaps your libido will return as well."

The man decided not to comment. Instead he mulled over several questions he wanted to ask the young woman. The foremost of those was whether the Marquis really used alchemy, as the necromancer Gregor had suggested. He thought better of it however, and instead asked the other question on his mind. "Stella, do I have any money?"

Ari didn't have much in the way of plans for taking on the Marquis, but he knew from his old world that one of the most necessary components would be capital. Stella let out a seemingly innocuous laugh. "I don't know Ari, do you?"

"I certainly don't in the crypt, I've already checked."

"Your family perhaps?"

"I wasn't aware I had any," he said, remembering the old Ari's words. None to speak of the spirit had said, which he did admit implied the possibility of family.

"Well then perhaps you should make sure of that. Regardless, whatever could you need money for? Everything you could possibly desire is provided by the master. Food, a home, pleasure, entertainment, what else is there?"

Ari couldn't think of anything on the spot, and he certainly didn't want to share his true intentions. "Perhaps my idea of pleasure is simply to accumulate wealth. There's something to be said about staring at a pile of gold after all."

Stella let out another laugh. It was pleasing to the ears, or it would have been, if Ari hadn't witnessed Stella casually navigating a hall full of tortured people the night before. "Oh Ari, there you go again surprising me with your replies. Wherever did the old Ari go, I wonder?"

The man suppressed a shudder. She doesn't know he reassured himself. There's no way she could possibly know. I've got my memory loss excuse, after all. Stella led him to a doorway, which two servants opened. Beyond was a room with dark red walls and dark brown wardrobes. A large mirror rested against one end, and masked servants waited with arms laden with clothing before it.

"I took the liberty of picking your outfit," Stella said, moving to one of the servants. She selected a black and gold doublet and held it up for Ari to see. "You never were good with fashion, and look!" she pressed the garment to her dress. "We match!"

"Looks good," Ari said.

"Mistress," one of the servants said, bowing her head.

Stella gave her an irritated look, as if a dog has just defecated in front of her. "What."

The servant held up a cloth doll. It struggled and fought against her grip, then paused to wave at Ari. "We found this is in Lord Ariedissus's old clothing, and we weren't sure what to do with it."

Ari had forgotten about the doll he'd brought to life back at the apothecary. He'd only meant to show his powers to Gregor, and wasn't even aware that the small toy had followed them back to the crypt. Nor that it had snuck along to the red court in his clothing. Stella snorted. "One of yours, Ari? Rather small to be of any use, isn't it?"

"I was just experimenting," Ari said, approaching the servant. He accepted the doll and let it down to the ground. The toy peered up at everyone in the room, then ambled off.

"I would strongly suggest not experimenting with the master's power. It is a gift, Ari, not something to be used on little dolls."

"Noted," Ari said. "I won't do it again."

Ari was dressed in new undergarments, a doublet jacket, tights, silk shoes, a floppy hat with a feather, and a new black mask. It was the same long-nosed variety as his previous mask, just a different color. Stella looked him up and down, then gave a noise of approval. The last item was a black and gold cloak the servants draped around his shoulders. "Excellent," Stella said. "Let us go and join the others for the feast."

The pair navigated the various hallways, chambers, and halls of the red court. Ari had only ever seen the three rooms he had entered on his first visit, but now he realized the court was a labyrinth of columns, archways, and rocky caverns. There was still no sign of the other family members, just servants. Finally they arrived before a massive red door. It split down the middle and slowly swung inward, revealing inky darkness beyond. Ari and Stella entered, and as always, the man lost his sight and hearing. He walked in a straight line, then emerged in an entirely new space.

To say it was massive would be an understatement. Ari couldn't see the ceiling, it was too high and obscured by swirling shadow. Nor could he see the walls. They too were distant and hidden in shifting darkness. It reminded him of the chamber he had first met the Marquis of Pain in, though there was one key difference. A stone bridge lined with candlesticks and their candles led across a gaping chasm to an island in what was presumably the center of the room. A giant rocky column bore the island, though most of it was lost below in the darkness. At the top however, and connected by the bridge, was a square structure lined with arched openings like a Roman arcade wall. Ari could hear voices and laughter echoing from it. Stella took his hand with a smile and led him across the bridge. The deep discomfort that had lurked inside Ari since he arrived grew even more.

The pair passed through one of the arched openings and were greeted with a boisterous scene. A long table spread down the middle of a square courtyard. The walls were all arcades with arched openings, and every side looked out at the yawning darkness of the massive cavern beyond. There was no roof, just distant, swirling shadows. The table itself was draped in red velvet, and bore all manner of food, drink, elegant plates, and utensils. Servants stood in the arched openings with decanters and platters, and at the table sat the family of the Marquis. Men, women, and children, all dressed in luxurious clothing. None of them wore their masks, instead hanging them off the back of their high-backed chairs. They were laughing, eating, drinking, and arguing. Stella gave Ari another smile as she led him towards the table, then let go of his hand and raised her palm.

"Everyone!" she called. Those at the table paused and turned to her. She met their gazes with a warm expression. "The guest of honor has arrived!" Everyone applauded, though to Ari's ears it was barely polite. The gazes of those sitting at the table made it clear they were less than impressed with him. Two servants left a wall. One took his mask, while the other scooted back Ari's seat. It was at the very head of the table. The twins Luca and Flora were seated immediately to his right, and Stella had been given the seat to his left. It wasn't until Ari sat down that he saw Diago on the opposite end of the long table. The young man with white hair stared at him, his expression the same as it always was; perfectly inscrutable. Ari did his best to ignore him, instead leaning back as servant delivered a plateful of food and filled his glass with wine.

"Hello Ari," Flora said, her expression plain. "Congratulations on completing your task."

"Yes congratulations," Luca said. He picked up his glass and sipped from it. Ari furrowed his brow, wondering why the young twins were drinking wine. The thought left him as he remembered Stella's words: the pair were one of the few who actually liked him.

"Hello Luca, hello Flora, it's good to see you again."

Flora tilted her head slightly as she regarded him. For the life of Ari, he couldn't tell what she was thinking behind her impassive eyes. "Have you gotten your memories back?"

The man gave her an apologetic smile. "Fraid' not."

"A shame," Luca said. "But no matter. When you receive your new room at court we can play whenever we wish."

"Yes it will be so much fun," Flora said, though her voice, like her brother's, was almost monotone.

"New room at court?" Ari said.

"Yes Ari," Stella said. She hid her smile as she sipped from her glass. "You didn't think you'd have to stay in that crypt, did you? That's only for the year-long initiation. Now that you're an official member of the family, you'll live here at court."

Ari despaired at hearing this. He didn't want to live at court. The crypt wasn't perfect, but it was far, far away from the Marquis of Pain and his family. "What's that?" Luca said, pointing a fork at Ari's chest. The man glanced down. Peeking out of his doublet jacket was the cloth doll. It had managed to snag a steak knife, and now waved it playfully in the air.

"Oh," Ari said. He pushed the doll back into his jacket. "Just something I was messing around with." The man hadn't noticed it had snuck into his clothing. Ari quickly forgot about it as he felt the eyes of the rest of the table on him. The family continued eating and conversing with each other, but the glances they cast his way were not kind. Rather, Ari sensed contempt. A lot of it. He briefly met Diago's gaze at the end of the table. He wondered if the seating arrangement had anything to do with the hierarchy of the family, but couldn't tell. The man averted his eyes from the white-haired man. It was better not to draw his attention.

But Ari quickly realized it was too late. He felt pressure around his throat and coughed. The pressure increased, choking him. Everyone at the table turned in his direction. Ari continued coughing as the pressure tightened. No one seemed to care, not even Stella, Luca, and Flora. Diago simply watched without a hint of expression. He almost looked bored. Some further down the table laughed. Ari gasped, clawing at his throat. The pressure squeezed to the point of almost crushing his windpipe. Suddenly Ari was dragged from his chair onto the table. The invisible force pulled him along the length, scattering plates and glasses. People cried out in delight as the man shot past them. He finally came to a stop in front of Diago. The white-haired man stared at him, his expression unreadable.

"What's the matter," Diago said calmly. "Why are you choking?" Ari clawed at his throat, but there was nothing to grab hold of. The young man continued to stare at him. "I asked you a question, why are you choking?" Spittle escaped Ari's lips. He couldn't take much more. "Why aren't you answering me?" Diago said. "You should answer when someone is talking to you." Ari closed his eyes and used the last of his strength to summon his power. He exploded into a cloud of smoke, then instantly reformed and landed in a heap on the table. Ari gasped for breath, but the inviable force gripped him by the throat once more. Ari shifted to smoke, but he couldn't maintain the form for long. When he changed back, the pressure grabbed him, lifted him up, then slammed him onto the table. Silverware and glass rattled. "Well?" Diago said. "Why are you choking?"

Ari could only manage a single phrase. And if he was going to die, he didn't care what the consequences were. "Little bitch," he gasped, doing his best to crack a smile.

Diago tilted his head slightly. "What did you say?" he didn't appear angry, but the invisible force dragged Ari so they were face to face. "Repeat what you just said," Diago said calmly. "I couldn't hear you."

A tiny voice answered him. "He said you're a little bitch!"

The cloth doll launched itself from inside Ari's doublet jacket. It drove the steak knife into Diago's eye, then dangled from the handle. The toy giggled as is kicked its legs in the air. "Bitch bitch BITCH!"

Ari was released by the pressure. He collapsed on the table. Everyone grew deathly quiet. Diago didn't react for a few moments. There was no hint he was in pain, despite the knife in his eye and the blood trailing down his cheek. He slowly reached up and gripped the doll, then looked at it with his good eye. The toy giggled. A moment later it exploded in a cloud of cloth, stuffing, and string. Diago watched its remains fall before him on the table. Ari slowly got to his feet, backing away. His stumbling movements knocked aside plates and platters, but he kept his eyes on Diago. Those seated around the table watched him pass. Their expressions were solemn, or else carefully guarded. Diago reached for the knife, gripped it, and yanked it out. His eye came with it. There was no change in expression on his face. Instead he inspected the eye on the end of the knife, then set it down. His remaining eye slowly turned to Ari.

A powerful voice, accompanied by an equally powerful gust of wind, swept through the room. "Hello my children…" Everyone turned in the direction of it. Looking through one of the arched entries, like a child peering into a dollhouse, was the Marquis of Pain. His giant red comedy mask was too big to be seen in its entirety. Instead only the portion around one of his eyes was visible. "Enjoying yourselves…are we…?" The giant figure chuckled, then rose to his full height. The Marquis towered over the walled courtyard. "Yes…yes…fun and games…how I enjoy them…but Ariedissus…why are you on the table…? You are the guest of honor tonight…no need to entertain…"

Ari swallowed. Fear gripped him, but he forced himself to nod. "Forgive me master, I'll return to my seat."

"Yes…very good…"

Ari quickly hastened down the table. Servants rushed to replace the food and drink that had been scattered in the struggle. Every family member watched the man as he went back to his seat. Though Ari didn't look at their expressions, he could sense it well enough in the air: barely-disguised hatred. He saw it clearly on Stella's face as he sat down, though he couldn't guess why. Ari had been the victim, after all. The only exceptions were Luca and Flora. The twins simply regarded him with blank expressions, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened at any point during the dinner. Ari placed his napkin in his lap and did his best to look calm.

"Now my children…" the Marquis began. He loomed over the open roof, his layers of cloaks billowing on either side of him. "Let us begin…the feast to celebrate the arrival…of your newest brother…Ariedissus Bordo…and look…" The Marquis's giant hand lowered towards the table. Pinched between his massive fingers was a silver dish and covering. He placed it delicately in the center, then lifted the lid. On the plate was the severed head Ari had passed off as Gregor's. "Your brother Ariedissus…has brought us a gift…the head of my most hated enemy's servant…thank him children…"

"Thank you Ariedissus," everyone said in unison. Their tones did not imply gratitude however. Ari nodded to them, then drank from his wine glass to hide his unease.

"Now…" the Marquis said. "Let us begin this feast…in earnest…"

Outside of the red court, among the spires of the city of Baccilae, two figures stood atop a slanted roof. They were the vampires Camlin and Esemae. The red-haired vampire wore a long black coat with gold buckles, and the one with frizzy black hair wore a heavy brown cloak and a hood. The pair stared down at the front plaza of the court. The clouds raced overhead in the nighttime sky, bathing them in alternating moonlight and shadow. Camlin narrowed his eyes, then turned to Esemae.

"Are you sure this is it."

Esemae nodded. "I saw the carriage leave their breeding ground with the puppet man inside. He's in the court now," she cast a sidelong glance at Camlin. "Though I didn't see the necromancer. He might still be back at the hill."

"He might also be dead." Camlin said, his tone angered.

"We should go back and search the hill. Especially if the puppet man isn't there."

"No. There's something powerful in the canal that guards it. We've lost a good number of soldiers to it in the past. We'll strike here."

"But the court is filled with the Marquis's servants," Esemae said. She turned her attention back to the courtyard. "We can't possibly get inside."

"It doesn't matter. Our master said we should do anything to get the necromancer, even if it means entering the red court. But the necromancer is probably dead. So we'll enter the court and kill the puppeteer. If we do that much at least, our master might be pleased enough to let us come back."

"But the puppet man said he didn't want to kill the necroma-"

Camlin turned on the girl. "Shut your whore mouth Esemae. The Marquis's servants are liars, and just as spiteful as their leader. Don't trust a word they say. He's dead, so we kill the puppeteer."

Esemae didn't respond, her expression blank. She slowly turned her gaze back down to the plaza. "Okay…"

"Good. Go get our soldiers. We attack immediately."

The feast continued inside the red court, but the Marquis of Pain didn't stay long. "Eat…" he boomed overhead. "Drink…but I shall retire…there are other matters I must attend to…"

Everyone at the table raised their glasses. "Thank you master!" they shouted in unison. Save Ari, who didn't know the cue.

The Marquis chuckled. "Yes…yes…Ariedissus…your home is now at the court…I shall have the servants…show you the way to it…later…"

With that his robes billowed, then the Marquis sank down past the courtyard. He quickly disappeared into the shadows of the chasm below. There was silence after he left. Ari cleared his throat, then stood. "Well then," he said, giving everyone a polite smile. He ignored Diago's intense gaze at the end of the table. "I think I'll excuse myself. Thanks for…" he gestured vaguely. "Ah fuck it, let's not pretend here." He turned and left. The man could feel everyone's eyes boring into his back as he went.

A sigh of relief escaped him as he walked across the bridge. Ari was glad no one had stopped him from leaving, and he wanted nothing more than to go back to the crypt and lock himself inside. He had a lot to plan for as well. Rapid footsteps echoed behind him. The man slowed, then glanced over his shoulder. Stella strode at a brisk pace towards him. Her expression was cold as she came to a stop.

"You shouldn't have provoked him."

"Who," Ari said, furrowing his brow. "Diago?"

"Yes Diago! Who else!"

"You saw him back there," Ari said. "The guy has it out for me. And besides, I didn't tell the doll to do that."

Stella's face trembled, as if she was keeping down anger. "You don't understand. You're still too weak Ari. He'll kill you if you're not careful."

"What are you, my fucking mother? And I didn't see you leaping to my defense."

Stella slapped him across the face. Ari blinked in surprise, then put a hand to his cheek. "You idiot!" the young woman yelled, shoving him. "Do you not understand anything! Do you know how HARD I've been trying to protect you! I am the ONLY one who truly cares for you! And THIS is how you repay me!"

Ari stared at her, shocked. "You have a funny way of showing you care…"

"You know nothing. Nothing! I should have never stuck my neck out for you! Now Diago will go after ME, just to get to you! Do you think I need that right now??"

"Well…" Ari said, rubbing his cheek. "I'm sorry…I wouldn't want him going after you, not on my account."

"It's too late for that you fool! And if he'll come after me, he'll go after Luca and Flora as well! And on top of all that, you snub your new family and leave your welcome feast early!" she shoved him again. "To hell with you Ari! Be a man and come sit back down!"

"I need to go to the crypt. I'm moving, remember? I have lots of stuff I need to grab. My puppets…and other things…"

Stella threw up a hand. "That's what servants are for! Why do YOU need to go! You're just a coward! You always have been!"

Ari fell silent. The young woman was fuming, her expression murderous. Ari scratched at his neck. He wasn't sure what to make of Stella. Was she a friend? Or simply as unpredictable as the rest of the family? "I'm sorry…" he said. "But I'm going to collect my things myself. I need some air…"

"Coward!" Stella yelled. "Fool!" She slapped him again, then turned on her heel and stormed back towards the courtyard. Ari watched her go.

"This entire place is insane," he murmured. And the sooner I tear it down, the better.

With that thought Ari turned and headed across the bridge. It took some time, but he managed to navigate through the maze of halls and chambers until he reached the front entrance to the read court. He was forced to ask several servants, but they indicated the direction he needed to go with bowed heads and demurred tones. Ari rubbed his cheek, then his throat, as he waited for the giant red doors to open. He'd taken several beatings since arriving, and he had to admit he was impressed at how well he'd handled them. That wasn't to say he enjoyed getting hurt. But a lesser man would have certainly broken down already. Ari once again found himself sympathizing with the old Ari. Could he really blame him for wanting to flee?

The man stepped outside into the plaza and gathered his cloak about him. He looked for a carriage, but didn't find one. Instead he saw a massive gathering. The figures stood with odd postures, as if uncomfortable. They were dressed in rusted armor and helms, and held an array of weapons. At the front of the gathering were two figures. The first was a man with orange hair and a long black cloak. The second Ari recognized as the vampire girl he'd seen fighting in the Ibezian tower. Esemae's arm extended from her cloak and pointed at him.

"There he is," she said quietly. "The puppet man that took the necromancer."

"Amazing," Camlin said. The red-headed man drew a long sword from underneath his coat. "That makes things much easier."

Ari stood there for a moment, then closed his eyes. "Fuck…today is not my day…"

Camlin raised his sword and pointed at Ari. In response, the horde of soldiers charged across the plaza.

​

 

[Lop]

The ground shook from the movement of a thousand soldiers. Ari could see they were undead as they grew closer, or at least, that's what he guessed. Their skin was rotting, many lacked eyes in their sockets, and the stench borne on the wind was unbearable. They were all armed with halberds, swords, warhammers, and flails. Their armor seemed rusted and dented, as if looted from a battlefield. But their movement was quick, despite their strange, unnatural gaits. Ari was rooted in place by the sheer intensity of their charge. They did not make a sound, save for the rattling and clanking of their armor. The man closed his eyes, preparing to summon the Marquis's power and disappear in a cloud of smoke. If he could do that, perhaps he could retreat back inside without being overrun.

But Ari did not need to use his power. A great roar echoed behind him. It was so loud the man felt the force of it pressing against his back. Two massive blurs exploded out from the front door of the red court. They landed in the courtyard with tremors and spun around. Fire poured from their mouths onto the surrounding soldiers. Undead bodies crackled and armor melted. Ari stared in shock at the two creatures. They were like giant lions, though their tails were several serpents that moved with minds of their own. Large leathery wings protruded from the lions' backs, and their rear legs were scaley right down to their curved talons. The strange beasts batted aside more soldiers with their claws. The serpents forming their tails lunged down and grabbed the undead, then tossed them in the air like playthings. The lions unleashed another torrent of fire. The flames swept across the plaza in straight lines, consuming anything caught in their path. Ari shielded his mask as the heat from the fire washed over him.

"What the actual fuck…" Ari said. He lowered his arm and removed his mask. He had to make sure he was seeing correctly. The lions were truly monstrous, and their movements were powerful and unrelenting. The beasts made short work of the undead soldiers. But more were pouring in from the long, arched tunnel that led out from the plaza. For every group of skeletal warriors that was destroyed, another mass filled in to take their place. Ari rubbed his eyes, then looked again. Never in his multiple lives did Ari think he would witness such ferocity. It was almost mesmerizing. The lions reared up and slammed their paws back down, shaking the ground and throwing up undead soldiers. Their snake tails whipped about and cleared the space behind them.

Ari sensed movement over his shoulder and turned. Emerging from the swirling darkness of the front entrance were several figures. Among them were Stella and Diago. The others were members of the family that he recognized from the welcome feast. There was a woman in a black lace dress that resembled intricate spiderwebs. Eight spindly legs extended out from her carnival mask. Another was a tall, thin man with long arms and long legs. He wore a simple doublet jacket and tights, and a mask that was nothing more than a white oval. The last was a figure completely draped in a long red robe and hood, with a golden carnival mask covering their face.

"What is this," the woman with the spider mask said. Her tone was haughty, and she flicked her wrist to open a folding fan under her nose. "Surely no one could be foolish enough to attack us here…"

"And yet they have," Stella said. Her expression was serious, her eyes narrowed beneath her domino mask. Diago stood next to her, his empty eye-socket still seeping blood. He glanced briefly at Ari with an unreadable expression, then turned his attention back to the battle in the courtyard.

The tall, thin man pressed his fingers together. A nasally voice echoed out from his plain white mask. "It would seem we are hardly needed. The chimera will take care of this, so we should close and seal the doors until this business is over."

"No," Stella said. She lifted the hem of her dress and carefully descended the front steps. "I want to know why this is happening, as will the master. The dead have never attacked us before like this." The young woman paused as several explosions rocked the plaza. One of the lions reared up, then collapsed backwards. Ari winced as his ears rang. He searched for the source of the sound, quickly finding it. A multitude of cannons had been wheeled in by undead soldiers. They were already in the process of reloading them. The remaining lion monster roared and thundered towards them. It only took a swipe of its claws to knock the artillery pieces aside. The cannons impacted against one of the plaza walls, shattering the windows above it. The undead soldiers swarmed the lion like ants. It let out another roar as its serpent tails lashed out at the assailants.

A flock of ravens congregated above the corpse of the slain lion, then materialized into the body of a man wearing a long black coat. A swarm of insects flowed onto the beast next to him, then transformed into a girl. Camlin and Esemae gazed down at Ari and the others. The red-haired vampire had his sword drawn, but Esemae simply kneeled down as if she were atop a cliff.

"Name yourselves!" Stella yelled up at them. There was fury in her voice. "How dare you intrude on our master's estate! Do you have any IDEA whose wrath your invoking??"

"Our names aren't important," Camlin said. "Nor are any of the other words that came out of your mouth." He pointed his sword at Ari. "Give us the puppeteer, we're taking his head back to our own master."

The woman with the spider mask fanned herself. "That's what this is about?" she tilted her head back and laughed. "We've inflicted numerous blows against the dead, but a single sorcerer has brought you to our gates? His death was no more than an initiation for the newest family members my dears, no need to act so vulgar over it."

The giant lion behind the vampires roared. More and more undead soldiers were climbing onto it, and the beast's body was nearly invisible under their numbers. "That necromancer was too valuable to be wasted on one of your pointless ceremonies," Camlin said. He tone was low, and edged with anger. "So we're here to show you what happens when you forget your place in this city."

"Is he dead." Esemae said. Her tone was soft, but was somehow still heard over the din of battle. The vampire girl straightened up from kneeling. "Is he really dead?"

"He is," a new voice said. A fierce wind blew through the plaza. The undead soldiers slowed their movements, seemingly struggling against an invisible force. In a sweeping wave they were incased in white, uneven pillars. The few limbs that poked out from the formations were laden with glittering crystals. Ari's eyes watered, and he tasted a strong, salt-like sensation in his mouth. A moment later he realized it was because the white pillars were in fact salt. A figure emerged from the shifting shadows of the front door. It was an older man in fine clothes and a stylish, pointed silver beard. His posture was perfect, and he wore no mask. In his hands he bore a platter with the severed head Ari had brought to the red court. The man strode past the other family members, who quickly parted for him and bowed their heads. Even Diago showed him respect. The newcomer gave the vampires a polite smile, then slightly lifted the platter for them to see. "Here is your necromancer's head. If you do not wish for the same to happen to you, I suggest you leave and tell your master that the next time he displays such ostentation in front of our doors, the honorable Marquis will have no choice but escalate our war in this city. Do I make myself clear, my little corpse ghosts?"

Ari's stomach clenched. A feeling of dread spread through him like ice. With the head for all to see, he knew his deception would be discovered. The Marquis and his family would know Ari had spared Gregor and used the head of someone else to complete his mission. The punishment was sure to be severe, and likely end in his death. Camlin and Esemae stared down at the head on the platter, neither speaking. The girl vampire glanced behind her at the forest of salt pillars. Even the remaining lion had been encased. Esemae turned back to the family members in front of the door.

"Alright," she said, her voice still quiet. "We'll leave."

Ari's eyes widened in surprise. Esemae exploded into a swarm of insects and crawled down the lion's corpse. Camlin narrowed his eyes directly at Ari. "Know that this business between us is not over." He disappeared in a swirl of black feathers. A flock of ravens followed the insects, and soon Ari and the others were left alone in the plaza. The salt pillars stood silently before them, glittering in the moonlight.

"Very good," the older man said. Without looking at or addressing anyone, he turned and entered the red court's entrance. He was quickly enveloped by the shifting shadows.

"Hmph," the woman with the spider mask said. She closed her folding fan with a flick of her wrist and followed after him. The thin man and the figure wearing the red robes and hood followed. Only Ari, Diago, and Stella remained. The young woman climbed the stairs and passed between the two men without a word. She too disappeared into the swirling darkness. Diago turned his attention to Ari, who quickly realized he was not out of danger yet. Ari met the young man's one-eyed gaze. He had no puppets, and he knew from experience his smoke-cloud trick would not be effective.

"Is there a problem?" Diago said, his expression calm and his voice even. "You look worried."

"Not at all," Ari said. He turned, doing his best to hide his trembling, and started walking down the stairs. He only made it a few steps before he felt a pressure squeeze his arm. A moment later it was ripped off. Ari stopped, gasping in pain. A burning sensation jolted through his body. The blood that spewed from his wound almost made him pass out. The invisible force knocked the man on his stomach and pushed him roughly down the stairs. It then held him in place at the bottom.

"It seems you've been wounded," Diago said calmly. He slowly walked down the steps towards Ari. "That's not good. You should be more careful." The young man placed his boot on Ari's back. "But don't worry, I'll help you." One of the windows in the plaza shattered. The candles behind the broken pane slowly floated out. Ari felt a piece of his cloak rip off, then the pieces of the garment underneath it were torn away as well. He could feel a part of his skin exposed to the salty air. The invisible force pressed down on it, then slowly peeled several layers of skin off. The pain was nothing compared to his throbbing arm stump, but it still hurt. Ari felt like he might pass out at any moment. "With a wound like this, you need to put new skin over it and cauterize it." Diago said. The layers of skin wrapped around his stump. The candles arrived as well. All four of their flames were held by the invisible force against the makeshift skin graft. Ari cried out in pain. The candles pressed harder into his burning skin, then clattered to the ground. "There," Diago said, lifting his boot from the man's back. "Now thank me for saving your life."

Ari had had quite enough of the white-haired man's behavior. Especially now that his arm stump was overwhelming his mind with pain. Gritting his teeth, he looked over his shoulder at Diago. "Your face looked better when you had both your eyes."

Though he might have imagined it, Ari thought he saw a vein in Diago's brow twitch. If it did, it was the first emotion he had seen from the young man. Several pieces of salt broke away from the formations and shot towards Ari. The man closed his eyes, preparing to be impaled.

"Diago," a voice said. The salt stopped midair, then fell to the ground. Both the young man and Ari looked up at the door. The older man with the stylish silver beard stood in front of it. He wore a small smile, but his eyes hinted at a intense intolerance for what he was seeing. Diago bowed towards the man, then left Ari and climbed the stairs. He passed the stranger without a word and entered into the swirling shadow. The older man turned his attention to Ari. "I understand you are returning to the crypts to gather your things."

Ari tried to get up, but found it difficult with only one arm. He staggered, caught himself, then slowly straightened up. "I am…"

"I have also heard you suffer from some malady that affects your memories." Ari nodded, unsure of what to make of the man. It was clear he held some position of importance in the court, but he hadn't been present during the welcome feast. "Return before sunrise," the man said, turning back to the door. He entered, and the doors slammed shut behind him. Ari closed his eyes and gripped the stump of his arm. Far, far too much had happened that night for him to process it all. The raid on the Iberian tower, Gregor's kidnapping, the welcome feast, wounding Diago, being wounded in return, and the vampires. Ari opened his eyes and furrowed his brow in confusion.

Why didn't the vampires say anything when they saw the replacement head? They could have fucked me over right then and there, but instead they stayed silent and left…

With these thoughts swirling in his head, and his throbbing arm at his side, Ari hobbled across the plaza. He passed the tall spires of salt. Small white crystals sifted off in the wind, stinging his eyes. Ari ignored it. He was becoming numb to pain. He passed more remains of the undead army, then the corpses of the giant lions. He glanced up at their strange bodies, still in disbelief that such things could exist. Fantasy may not have been interesting to him in his former life, but now that he was seeing something that was actually fantastical, he was starting to reconsider his position.

The gate at the end of the arched tunnel was smashed to pieces. Ari carefully picked his way over the twisted metal. He tried to use his left arm, only to remember it was now gone. The man steeled himself for the time it would take to get used to the wound. He wasn't as angry as he thought he would be, or perhaps the loss just hadn't hit him yet. What did strike him was that the walk back to the crypt would take an hour, and he didn't know the way without Dik. Just as he considered returning back to the court to ask for directions, a black carriage entered the boulevard and approached. It was accompanied by four horsemen wearing long black garments and wide-brimmed hats, as well as masks. Their shoulders were so wide as to almost be comical, and they rode with swords resting on their shoulders. The carriage swung around in front of Ari, and the door opened on its own. There was no one inside, but the masked driver nodded at the man. Ari assumed someone inside the red court had summoned it for him, as well as the mounted guards.

The man gazed out of the window as the carriage made its way through the streets of Baccilea. The usual crowds were streaming past, as well as the destitute sleeping and begging on the sides of the streets. There were also the corpses in the gutters, and the gut-wrenching displays of child prostitution, as well as every other kind of prostitution that one could imagine. Ari didn't even have the energy to summon his anger. His numbness gave way to feeling of hopelessness. The scope of his task, to tear down the Marquis and change the ugly heart of the city, seemed so impossible. All Ari had managed to do so far was kidnap a sorcerer and piss off his adoptive, murderous family, and then on top of that lose his left arm. His odd superpowers were conditional, and Ari knew so little about the world he felt like a caveman trying to change corporate policy in a tech company. The man closed his eyes and leaned his head against the window. Deep breaths Ari, deep breaths. He frowned, his eyes still closed. His real name wasn't even Ari. He couldn't remember his real name. "Fuck," he said, knocking his head gently against the window.

The carriage arrived in front of the gate that led across the bridge to the crypt hill. One of the riders dismounted and unlocked it, then the others helped open it. Ari gave them a nod of thanks and passed through. The sounds of the city followed him as he crossed the bridge over the canal. The waters below reeked, forcing Ari to press his mask to his face. Once inside the hill, he walked along the dark tunnel. The man had to pause whenever his stump throbbed. The reality of him losing an arm was starting to hit him. Ari reached the stone door and performed the secret knock. A few moments passed, then the door was opened. He heard Dik's voice echoing inside the mausoleum.

"-you cannot! This belongs to my Lord Bordo!"

"I don't care WHO it belongs to!" Gregor shouted back. "If you're going to keep me in this blasted tomb, I'm going to be drunk you dammed hunchback!"

Ari entered. His puppets were gathered at the entrance, and bowed their heads in greeting. Dik and Gregor were in the corner, next to the hunched man's tent. Dik stood in front of the crates, his arms outstretched as if to protect them. Gregor stood in front of him with his fist raised. "The brandy is my lord's favorite! You cannot drink anymore!"

"You think I can't take you!" Gregor yelled. "I'll put you in the coffin and close the lid, see how YOU like it!"

Dik turned his attention to Ari as the man approached. His eyes grew wide. "My LORD!" he cried out. "Your arm! What has happened??" he left the crates, the argument forgotten, and hastened to Ari. "We need to get you to a barber immediately!"

Gregor arched an eyebrow. "Well, I take it the head you substituted for mine didn't go over well with your master. Shame, though I would have figured they'd have killed you."

"No, the head was alright," Ari said, taking off his mask with his good hand. Dik hovered around him anxiously. "I just made someone angry I shouldn't have."

"I'd say so," Gregor said. He reached in the unguarded crates and took out a decanter of brandy. "Well then, are you going to let me go? I don't see any reason why I should have to remain here."

Ari put his hand to his face and rubbed his eyes. It was the first time all night he could properly relax. Despite this, his thoughts turned to his impossible task, and all the things he needed to do. "Tell me something Gregor…"

"Hm?" the older man said. He was in the process of taking a generous drink of brandy.

"How do you change a heart?"

Gregor scowled, then took the brandy from his lips and turned to the man. "Change a heart? You mean how do you change a person?" he snorted. "You don't, people don't change."

Ari grimaced. That wasn't what he wanted to hear. "My lord please!" Dik said. "Let us get you to a barber or doctor to look at your wound!"

Ari turned to the hunched man. "Dik, do you know how to change people's hearts?"

"Such a thing…" Dik began, staring distractedly at Ari's stump.

"Dik, please, I want to hear your opinion." The hunched man stared at the stump, then slowly looked up at meet Ari's gaze. His expression was hesitant. "It's okay Dik," Ari said. "Answering this will help me more than any doctor."

Dik wrung his hands, though slower than he usually did. "I…if I had to say my lord…then little by little…"

"What do you mean?"

"A person's heart will change little by little…every day…you beat them…speak harshly to them…wear them down…they will crumble…"

Ari realized the hunched man assumed he had asked about how to break someone. "And is the opposite true? Can you lift them and speak kindly, and thus change them?"

"I…I wouldn't know my lord…"

Gregor snorted, then took another drink of brandy. "A ridiculous question anyway."

Ari sighed. Dik's reply might work on an individual, but he wanted to change all of Baccilae. It seemed Ari was still at a loss for how to fix things. "Did anything happen while I was gone?"

Dik pointed at Gregor. "This one is a thief my lord, and I beg for you to throw him out!"

"Oh be quiet you eyesore," Gregor said, scowling.

"I'm not sure what to do with him yet," Ari said. "The vampires came for you at the red court by the way. Apparently that was unusual…"

"Of course they did," Gregor said. He almost sounded pleased, though his tone quickly soured. "I'm the best artisan they have, and my master treats me like a prized bird."

"The vampires could have exposed my betrayal, but didn't…"

Gregor frowned, then peered in the opening of the brandy to see how much was left. "Well that is strange, though don't ask me to explain it. I don't understand the shades anymore than you do. It's not like they're human."

"Hm…" Ari said, rubbing his chin with his good hand.

"My lord," Dik said. "The puppets that were separated from us at the tower returned as well while you were away."

Ari turned to the gathering of wooden figures. They all stared back at him. Many were missing arms, or legs, or had deep gashes in their bodies. Some where even missing heads, and cradled them in their arms. Among them was Mariam. The maiden puppet had all four limbs torn away, as well as several other wounds. "Thank you everyone," Ari said. "You did well tonight, and I appreciate your efforts. I'm sorry you got hurt for me."

The puppets nodded. "We are yours to command," Mariam said. She was held up by a knight.

Ari turned back to Gregor and Dik. "I've got to leave this place before sunrise, I'll now be living in the red court. I'm not looking forward to it, but what's done is done. Gregor, I guess that means you're a free man, but I want to ask you a few more questions first."

The older man shrugged, then finished off the brandy. "Ask away I suppose, I'm proper drunk now…"

"I need money. Lots of it. How do I get it."

An amused smile appeared on Gregor's face. "Steal it? Start a business? Or borrow it from the lending houses. It shouldn't be hard, aren't you a noble? You dress like them at least."

"I think I'm a noble," Ari said, looking to Dik for confirmation. The hunched man nodded.

"Well then if you need it quickly and don't have any in your noble coffers, borrow it. Though the lenders are worse than the shades when it comes to sucking blood."

Ari nodded, more to himself than anyone, and dwelled on the older man's words. "And alchemy? How do I learn that?"

"Find an alchemist of course, and get an apprenticeship with him. Or if that dammed Marquis is one, I'm sure he's got some books lying around."

"Final question…"

Gregor shrugged. "I'm still drunk, ask."

"I need more puppets, and I need to fix the ones that were wounded. Any ideas?"

Gregor rolled his eyes. "I don't know, find a craftsman? I don't know anything about your strange toys, but that would be my guess."

"Thank you," Ari said. "I'm going to leave now, but I'll leave Dik with you. Wait until I've gone before sneaking out. Dik will unlock everything." He turned to the hunched man. "Is that alright with you?"

Dik didn't seem happy, but nodded. "I…yes my lord, that is fine."

"Just meet me at the red court, I'll need your help there. Do you think they'll let you in?"

"They should my lord," Dik said. "They know me as your servant."

"Alright," Ari said, turning to the puppets. He pointed at the wooden figures hanging from the ceiling. "Take these down, we're bringing them with us." The puppets hurried to comply. When the rest of the puppets were separated from their strings, Ari took one more look around the mausoleum, then glanced at Gregor. "Thanks, for everything."

"Don't mention it," the old man said dryly.

"Dik, I'll see you at court."

"Yes my lord…"

With that, Ari left. The puppets followed, carrying their unliving brethren. The carriage and mounted guards waited outside beyond the bridge. Another wagon had joined them, clearly intended for the puppets. The wooden figures loaded their brethren, then themselves, onto it. Ari prepared to get inside the carriage, then paused when he noticed something. Across the busy street, past the crowds and animal carts, was a figure standing on a lantern pole. They wore a long brown cloak, as well as a hood. Ari recognized them as Esemae, the vampire girl. It seemed no one else noticed her. She nodded with her head at an alley behind her, then hopped down and entered it. It was clear she wanted him to follow. Ari hesitated, biting his lip under his mask.

It was a bad idea to follow. There was no doubt they could kill him in the alley if they wanted to. On the other hand, the vampires hadn't revealed his treachery against the Marquis of Pain. Curiosity won out. Ari glanced at one of the mounted guards. "I'll be right back…" he began. Again he was bad at lying, but luckily an excuse came to mind. "There's a prostitute I need to pay for her service earlier."

The guards exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable under their masks. "Let us pay her for you sir," one wheezed. "It's not safe this close to dawn." His voice was strange, almost sickly.

"It's fine," Ari said, heading for the street. "I won't be long." He weaved through the crowds and crossed the street, then paused. The alley was dark, and only two people stood within; Esemae and Camlin. The vampires met his gaze, their expressions unreadable. Ari quietly accepted whatever fate had in store for him and entered the alley.

​

 

[Lop]

This story is already written, I've just been editing and throwing it up during lulls in work, but I've decided to switch over to Ao3 since I think it may be more at home there. If you've been following along, thank you, and you can find the story under the same name on Ao3. (There's a couple extra chapters there, and upload pace will completely depend on my workload at any given moment, but for now it's looking like I can keep quick-editing and chucking em in the upload bin at a fairly rapid pace this week). If you need a direct link just message me, but it should be fairly easy to find otherwise.