“Storms turn brow, above, around. Three blind nights, the Dark King’s crowned.”
Silence. That was all that echoed after her words.
The sun continued to slowly turn to blood way in the western horizon, marred and gouged by the building’s steely peaks. Traffic choked through the city like veins, twisting and turning every which way.
But in the dim underground hall everything was quiet. Not a thief moved, not a crook whispered, even the cats and dogs and creatures they kept stayed silent.
What is broken, the moment it’s spoken?
At the end of the hall in the middle of the farthest possible wall was a chair, sitting on a slightly raised platform with a table set in front of it. There was nothing terribly spectacular about the chair, save that it was nondescript mildly red. And the man who sat in the chair was clothed in darker shades of gray and black.
Yet he was the one who leaned over the side of his chair, turned to the girl in the purple cloak standing at his left and uttered a single, angry word:
“What?”
She did not seem to hear at first, but then she slowly turned her head up to face him. Her eyes- the most startling shade of violet outside a fairy tale- were slightly glazed over with a strange milky luminescence. Her face was more remote than an empty sheet of paper and very nearly just as pale. She looked at him, but it would only be the efforts of a blind man looking towards a rogue sound, for she could not possibly have seen anything; the girl was Entranced.
The entire hall held its breath, all eyes locked on the pair.
“The Flower comes to find its ground- caught or captured, the Moon will be drowned”
“Damnit girl! Start making some sense or I will throw you back onto the streets you came from!”
That seemed to reach her. Her eyes darkened, her brows furrowed and her features clouded. When she continued she spoke in a voice that was separate from any time it could have possibly belonged to.
“Kill the Messenger, kill the deed. Your enemy rises if no warnings you heed. Look for your signs in metal you’ve past. Mark well destination or next fight stays your last.”
He raised a hand as if to slap her, clearly unsatisfied with his previous threat’s result. But she would not stop and her voice was gaining a measured quickness that comes only with either urgency or forgetfulness.
“The shadows will live under His command. The Rogues will be slaughtered and held for the damned. An ambush they seek, if entrance would empower, but the Cathedral stays hidden until it finds its Flower.”
The man scowled, the words tumbling akimbo in his mind. She went on, spewing out the words with increasing haste.
“Seek now and seek well, send out your spies, Dark death will come quickly and choking as vines, send word to your allies; their head’s on the line, you have what you wanted, you have Three Day’s time”
The silence that followed was deadly. The girl blinked and shook her head, reaching a hand up to rub her forehead. She groaned inwardly and her face scrunched slightly with pain.
The man, sure now that no more words were coming turned back to his court and, in a single motion stood and swept his arms to encompass the entire company.
“Well! You have it! The Seer speaks!” His voice echoed powerfully in the strangely malevolent gloom that had fallen over them.
“I did?” the girl asked in a shocked tone. Her voice was small and baffled. The closest member on the raised dais nodded his head and offered a small smile as consolation. Her eyes, no longer milky or extraordinarily violet shifted to hold something akin of absolute and total despair.
“Oh, no. What did I say?”
“Why, you said a great deal, my dear!” the man who had sat in the chair declared, turning to address her. “You gave us 5 sets of riddles to unravel and some very foreboding fortunes.” His smile was serpentine and his eyes were gloated with leadership. “And quite a few warnings about ‘Flowers’. I don’t suppose you remember anything of what you Saw, do you?” His voice was honey-smooth and sickening
“I-“ she stammered, question turned back on her. She shut her eyes and thought.
“I don’t, sir,” she said quietly. He frowned.
“Well then. I suppose we’ll just have to figure this one out on our own, hmm crooks?” He grinned turning back to the crowd, “In the meantime, I want you to get back to your business. But stay close, and be ready to be called. Evidently, we have three days.”
A ripple of laughter went through them, an odd mix of nervousness and malice. And when the man slumped back down into his chair the previous goings-on took up again and the quiet was banished.
The man sighed deeply once and rested his head in his hand with his elbow on the left arm of the chair.
“So nothing?” he asked gently, casting a sideways glance at the girl. Her eyes were set downward, slowly tracing patterns of dust on the floor. The newfound noise surrounding them prevented anyone but the closest bystanders from hearing them. She shook her head, sending a wave of blonde hair straying in front of her face.
“You think you could make sense of it if you heard it again?”
“I don’t know, sir. That only seems to work sometimes.”
“Well this time it certainly seems worth the effort.” He frowned.
“Lajra, my dear. You know your Sight is invaluable to us here, you’ve saved at least half of us countless times and helped that much more. But sometimes it gets very frustrating when your stronger Visions come and your words shake us to the core. It’s a very solemn thing hearing your future spelled out in riddles spoken by a girl who’s no more than 22, probably younger.”
She was silent.
“Well,” he said, sitting up, “Do tell me if anything comes up. I have business to attend to with one of our informants.” He stood easily and promptly proceeded to leave the room. She lost sight of him about halfway through the crowd
She sighed and slumped slightly, not quite sure what to do now except wallow in self pity, hatred, confusion and regret.
“Are you alright?” someone asked. It was the man who’d offered her the smile before. She now accepted it gratefully and returned the same.
“I’m perfectly alright, Jeeves,” she said somewhat tiredly.
“Are you sure? You seem a little tired.” She nodded once and looked up at him.
“But I would love to get some fresh air. Do you think he’d mind?”
“Who, the King?” Jeeves asked. “Nah, I don’t think he’d mind too much. Would you like me to accompany you?” His voice was slightly accented
“If you’re not to busy with your other Cryptly affairs,” she said smiling. Jeeves returned the smile and raised his elbow for her to take. She shook her head and rolled her eyes at the gesture, but reached two delicate hands to hold onto his arm all the same.
“You really must stop treating me like a child, Jeeves.” She said to him when they reached the hallway.
“Ah, but it does so make you smile. And you seem to do that so rarely these days. Besides, I first knew you when you were only this high,” he lowered his free hand so it was no more than maybe four feet off the ground, “You’ll always be that happy little kid to me,” he looked down at her with a twinkle in his eye.
She smiled in spite of herself, “Really Jeeves, people’ll think you’ve gone soft.” She told him quietly.
“Pff," he scoffed, "Let ‘em think what they will. I’ll be glad to prove them otherwise,” he said sticking his free hand in his left pants pocket where she knew he always kept his knife.
“Celcis’ll have your tongue for that,” she laughed softly.
“Who?” he asked stopping. She frowned.
“I’m not sure… The name just sort of, came into my head. Someone must be thinking about him an awful lot though, that’s usually the only way I make those slips without realizing.”
“Always keeping us on our toes, you are,” Jeeves chuckled, “Ah come on, we’re almost here anyway.”
“We are?”
“Yup. So long as you don’t mind the balcony.”
“Mm… no. I don’t mind at all.”
The balcony was relatively large for a city, actually. At least, this one was. There was room enough to stretch out lengthwise from the door to the banister and still some leftover for a small table or chair. There were small flowerboxes decorating the outside and some larger potted plants towards the door. The door itself wasn’t sliding glass as one may commonly find, but rather wood and paneled, and it opened and shut just the same as every other door its kind.
The air was cool for summer and a refreshing breeze blew by. Traffic had come to a near standstill on the streets, but the noise barely reached them. The balcony had been specifically set up in a place where sound could play such tricks, which was part of what made it so lovely.
“Mm… it’s nice out” she sighed, leaning her head on his arm.
“That it is, m’girl. You sure you don’t want to take off that cloak of yours? It looks mighty hot.”
“No, I’m good,” she muttered drowsily.
“Well alright then,” Jeeves chuckled, “Just take care not to fall asleep on me, mmm?”
“Okay.” But the word was hardly a whisper and Jeeves could feel her breathing deepen within only a minute. He smiled and shook his head. “Never could keep up with that particular request,” he mumbled. “Ah. No helping it now.”
A small wind whispered by them and breezed away, back on its journey to wherever it is winds seem so insistent on going. Jeeves stood there, always the gentlemen, with the now fast asleep Seer leaning on his right side. Were it anyone else he may have minded, but she weighed no more than a feather to him and he’d told her so on numerous occasions, often also asking if she was eating enough these days as well. She’d say she was fine, just tired and she’d had plenty to eat, the King’d made sure of that. Why, just that morning she’d had an entire stack of pancakes with syrup and it was quite possibly the best she’d tasted in a long while. He’d laughed and smiled and said well, as long as she was sure then he guessed he was fine with it and she’d tell him, oh, she was quite sure but she certainly did appreciate his concern even though she still worried that someone might get the wrong idea about the infamous Ivory James and he’d laugh and tell her that he could handle himself just fine and if anyone thought otherwise, well then he’d be glad to prove them wrong. And then they’d smile at each other and he could see just how tired she really was and his heart went out to the poor girl who’d never asked for such a gift or such a life but had it all the same then she’d be called off to some other part of this now vast domain and her smile would turn apologetic and she’d say that she was sorry, but she had to go now and she’ll see him later and really, best of luck to whatever it was he was doing today and he’d thank her and tell her much the same. He’d stand there another moment and watch her run off, that bizarrely outdated cloak of hers flapping behind her and those waves of blonde hair stirred into motion by the breeze of her running and he’d smile again and shake his head and think quietly to himself how unfortunate it was that such a gifted and pretty little thing like her got tangled up in this dark and bloody underground world of theirs.
Then maybe, sometimes he’d remember what it was like when she was younger and happier and so very clueless and thought that all her visions and all those people with their funny way of talking and not-quite-up-to-snuff-hygiene were just part of some massive and very well planned-out game.
And maybe sometimes, on even rarer occasions he’d think back and remember when he first found her, all those years ago walking aimlessly through some back alley in the city, a poor (probably) orphaned girl of no more than 7 in a ratty and tattered brown dress staring at and through nothing and everything and spouting out gibberish about ghosts and fiends and snarling silver and captured thunder and number 208.
In fact he was thinking of this very thing right now as that whispering breeze stole past them. He looked to the city streets and just thought for a little while, a pastime that was often denied to him and other members of this court of criminals.
He stood there for another 10 minutes before Lajra’s feather weight started to turn into a sleeper's dead weight and he decided that, given the late hour he should probably wake her and see her off.
He reached over and tousled her hair lightly in a very brotherly notion.
“C’mon sleepyhead, wake up. You can’t sleep standing up, especially not when you’re leaning against me,” he whispered. Her eyelids fluttered a bit before closing again, but other than that she didn’t stir. He sighed and, using his right hand to steady her he gently moved himself away. He then proceeded to lift her up and carry her bridal style through the balcony door and back into the building.
He carried her down the hall and up the stairs, onto the 4th floor, took a left followed the hallway to the end, took a right and, with a fair amount of difficulty managed to open the 3rd door down on the right, turn the light and gently lay the sleeping Lajra down on her own bed, all without banging her head or feet against anything. He exhaled and sat down on the edge of her bed, a luxiorious queen-sized ordeal with wooden framework and stylized headboard, footboard and bedposts.
It wasn’t that he was out of shape, it was just that any weight when carried for an extened amount of time began to grow heavy, no matter how light. And that cloak of hers must have added an extra 10 pounds at least.
He turned his head around to look at her after he’d caught his breath.
“Ah, you’re lucky you’re like a sister to me, girl, I wouldn’t do that for just anyone,” he said quietly, knowing full well she couldn’t hear him and not wanting to wake her after coming this far. He smiled fondly down at her.
“Someone had to be a fool to give you up,” he said. He stood and headed for the door, opening it quietly he checked one more time that she was, in fact, still asleep before turning out the lights and silently shutting the door behind him.