Unlike his two imaginative friends, Roland held no illusions about the nature of this little excursion he was forced to participate in. While he knew the importance of fake smiles, steadily making his way towards mastery in said art himself, any smile that lasted as long as Ayer’s had ceased its original function and turned into something twisted.
If Roland was forced to choose, he would not be able to decide whether the twin guards or their master were more nauseating.
Ayer led their mismatched ensemble further and further away from civilization. The sparse few people they met along the way quickly fled upon seeing the golden guards, until only the four of them remained.
Repurposed buildings slowly gave way to actual ruins, places so devastated you would wonder what kind of force had razed them to the ground. Faint lines, barely discernible in the gigantic field of rubble, marked the previous locations of no doubt impressive factories and workshops.
This place, destroyed beyond recognition, was the hub of the old industrial district. Stripped clean of anything with even the slightest value ages ago, and briefly turned into a savage battlefield, it had become a literal ghost town. Dangerous aftereffects of improperly disposed machinery, and untold tales of vengeful spirits or curses ensured nobody in their right mind would ever come here.
It was however quite popular as a test of courage location, which over the decades had sadly added quite a few missing and dead children to this place’s horrible reputation.
Roland noticed that, although Ayer appeared to be leading him confidently, the noble also stopped briefly every couple of minutes to find a way around various obstacles, making it clear he was not familiar with the area.
The Crescent Moon Helpers had on numerous occasions made their way here, and Roland could have found a much more efficient way forward. Not that he was in much of a hurry, more time to think about the mess he found himself in being greatly appreciated.
It looks like he wants to lead me away from people instead of heading towards a specific location. After all, there is nothing of worth here, unless the Toktuams have some secret base or something.
The thought of a prominent noble family having a well-hidden base inside some debilitated ruins seemed slightly far-fetched, but then so were many things in Roland’s life.
Obviously, this is in some way about Claire. The things which have changed since last time I saw Ayer are firstly my decision to accept her into our group. Which Claire told them in a roundabout way earlier.
Is that enough to warrant a spectacle of such a caliber? I don’t particularly need any reminders of the gap between us, and he isn’t such a bad judge of character as to not realize that.
The one other change being our plan of getting me into early admission failing. Claire knew about it, so it wouldn't be a stretch if the Toktuam’s informants found out about it too. Heck they probably knew before Stephan met those officers. No way his family doesn’t have some soldiers from the garrison on their payroll.
The problem is it should be of no consideration to him. Or did the possibility that I could enter the Academy early make him hold back? Roland shook his head, driving the self-conceited thoughts away. A multiple century old noble family considering him a future threat was about as likely as Thomas leaving a piece of food untouched.
So, it has to be about Claire after all. The only sensible explanation I can think of is he decided beforehand that, in case Claire’s involvement with our group became more substantial, he’d do whatever it is he is doing now.
Bardric is too self-absorbed to consider me a real threat. And I thought Ayer worked more along the lines of veiled threats than shows of force. Looks like my impression ended up being wrong. A shame for my time.
Roland couldn't resist rolling his eyes. Mentally.
Not like this will be the first time I have been told to mind my place. Why, I even considered myself quite proficient at it, though apparently not enough for our little friend here.
Having understood the situation, Roland got himself in the mood for a little pep talk, hoping it wouldn't take too long, as some unsolved math problems eagerly awaited him.
He highly doubted any physical harm would come to him, as Claire would be beyond furious if she found out. And no matter how high and mighty these nobles were, none of them dared to get on the City Lord’s bad side.
What happened next however poured some cold water on his relaxed mindset. The literal moment Roland finished his mental preparations Ayer turned around with an exaggerated flourish.
“Done letting the wheels rumble inside your head?” Ayer observed more than asked. The smile still remained, but his voice sounded different, like someone had taken all his emotions away and turned him into a monotonous machine. “Any longer and we would have left the city.”
Even his joke was uttered without so much as a speck of amusement.
A chill slowly climbed up Roland’s feet, gripping along his spine. Seeing the guards take position from the corner of his vision, he felt their piercing stare bore into him and, despite his better judgment, suddenly felt like his very life was on the line.
“Don’t worry, you won't see us killing people in broad daylight,” uttering words just as fear inducing as his monotone voice, Ayer stepped right in front of Roland, less than a hand’s width remaining between their faces. “We poison them in their sleep instead.”
Breath caught in his throat Roland started getting lightheaded. A sickly-sweet smell clouded his senses and fear started coursing through his veins.
It took everything he had to remain calm.
I still have a duty to fulfill. As if I could ever die in such a pathetic place. These are empty threats, nothing more. Fooling himself with hollow reassurances, Roland managed to stabilize his breathing. I have been blessed, seeing things nobody else can. And the bridge was the only vision I received yesterday. Everything is fine.
Both the fact that Roland did not actually know if his ability would show him his own death, and the possibility of Ayer simply killing him somewhere further away out of reach, were filed away under ‘not helpful in the current situation’.
Apparently satisfied by Roland’s reaction, Ayer stepped back to his original position and ceased smiling creepily. Instead, he settled into his usual trademark, the friendly salesman’s face.
Fuck. Does he really need that big of a show? Roland, completely soaked in his own sweat by this point, saw the guards stand aside idly, any previous pressure gone. The creepy nobleman too became nothing more than a flamboyantly dressed brat.
Any feelings of danger Roland had felt were nothing but a demonstration of power. Ayer seemed to prefer starting with the rough part, before giving his speech afterwards.
Even Roland’s almost fifteen years of live had not given him sufficient experience to know if that was something to be expected of psychotic nobles or not. Who knew, this may be the newest fad amongst them. After all, it must get boring threatening people the same way every single time.
“Claire seems to have fully convinced you today,” Ayer idly commented. “I hoped that she would change her mind after being stalled repeatedly. But when my headstrong angel is determined to do something, not much can stop her. Ultimately, I can’t fault you for giving in. It’s only natural.”
The nobles arrogant talk actually calmed Roland down slightly. Because it showed Ayer was simply well informed and smart, not all knowing. How they would handle Claire’s application had already been decided months ago. If Roland had received the Commander’s recommendation, he wouldn’t have let her join, no matter how determined she was.
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“Do you know why I love Claire, my dear brother?” Ayer asked, smiling brightly. The conversation’s unexpected direction made Roland curse on the inside.
All this time I thought Bardric was the arrogant one. But you have most definitely read a couple shitty novels too many. Just get to the point you conniving little fuck.
His previous fear turned into anger, before Roland tried to suppress it all under a mountain of resignation. An itchy feeling running across his skin made it harder to reign in the surging emotions.
“Marrying her will expand the influence of your family,” calmer than earlier, Roland gave what he believed to be the answer. If asked a day or as little as an hour ago it might have been a somewhat nicer answer, now however he had seen the darker face of Ayer. And it was a grotesque thing.
However, one thing Roland should have learned today, was that he knew absolutely nothing about this many-faced noble scion.
“Wrong,” Ayer retorted, shaking his head like a teacher disappointed in his student. “We Toktuams use wealth as our strength. Marrying any random merchant’s daughter would have given me more benefits than taking the hand of my beloved. For while her family has the City Lord’s strength, they have surprisingly little in terms of actual wealth. No, my love for her has nothing to do with acquiring influence.”
“And don’t even think about comparing me to that buffoon of a child soldier, only courting her so he can use the City Lord in his family’s worthless feud,” Ayer stated dismissively.
For the first time an actual sinister look appeared on his face, hatred for Bardric greatly overshadowing any feeling he had for the little pest in front of him. “I wonder how he would look if he knew the true relationship between Commander Grace and the Fainbrights.”
While the noble’s current evil grin looked truly vile, Roland could handle it a thousand times better than his emotionless smile from earlier.
“It really makes me wonder how you managed to bewitch my darling angel, seeing you have trouble answering such an easy question,” Ayer lamented with a sad sigh, continuing what should by now be considered a monologue. “The real answer is exceedingly simple. I love Claire from the bottom of my heart, because she is beautiful!”
The deafening silence that followed said more than any words of Roland’s could ever hope to. I may have given him too much credit. It looks like he is quite simply insane.
“My, could it be you are starting to question my sanity?” Ayer wondered, leaning forward, both arms behind his back.
The once again much to on point statement made Roland put up his guard for the umpteenth time. All these quick emotional changes however started taking a toll on him as the small buzzing inside his head turned into a throbbing pain.
“I love everything beautiful,” continued Roland’s headache. “And my angel is especially gorgeous, like an immaculate rose inside a sheltered greenhouse, yearning for the outside world. There burns a spirit of freedom in her heart, and I would love nothing more than to let it sweep me away into the wild blue yonder.”
An almost fanatical look on his face, Ayer gazed towards the sky, before furrowing his brows in displeasure when he looked back down at Roland. “You on the other hand are ugly!”
Roland eyes couldn’t help but twitch at the sudden insult. His vision felt a bit stilted once the twitching stopped, though he didn’t really mind it.
“I’m not talking about your appearance of course. It’s actually quite nice. A good wash and a couple of hours in the right hands could make something fairly decent out of it,” Ayer noted offhandedly, his unexpected compliment being even more sudden than the previous insult.
Starting to question his very existence, Roland felt like he was slowly sinking into the earth. Is all of this a freaking dream? No can’t be, I don’t dream anymore. Maybe I’m in coma, or does that count as dreaming?
A look revelation appeared on his exhausted face. Grandma Dorothy’s chicken! I must be hallucinating after I inhaled some weird spices.
Relieved at having found the reason for the strangeness Roland happily waited for the golden boy to continue talking.
“The ugliness I sense in you comes from the inside,” Ayer declared harshly, lowing his voice while simultaneously stepping closer and closer towards Roland.
“You pretend to be righteous and caring, but there is something deep down there. Something desperate, which frantically tries to move forward. Like a wounded animal being followed by its predator. Running and running and running, never stopping. Because once it does, the thing behind it will catch up!”
By now Ayer once again stood right in front of his prey, voice barely more than a whisper. The sickly-sweet scent returned with a vengeance as Roland’s entire body trembled like a leaf in the wind, both eyes turning unfocused, sweat endlessly pouring down his twitching face.
“That desperate, frantic, UGLY thing inside you,” Ayer whispered right into Roland’s ear, slowly enunciating every word. “What exactly is it?”
A crisp smack rang through the air, drowning out all other noise for a second.
Staring wide-eyed at the boy in front of him, Ayer’s mouth hung half open in utter shock. His two guards returned to their master’s side in a flash of light and dragged the latter back protectively. Their sharp gazes observed Roland’s every move like hawks, ready to tear apart the mouse before them if deemed necessary.
Said mouse was standing motionless, right hand on his cheek. Slowly he removed the hand to let flop down by his side powerlessly. A gigantic red palm print remained where it had previously rested, turning half of Roland’s face into a red mess.
The force he must have used for this slap was unimaginable. And not only had he slapped himself brutally, he also bit his tongue as the trickle of blood slowly flowing down his chin showed.
He would have looked truly pitiful, if not for one thing. His eyes.
Previously filled with many emotions, good and bad, they had felt like a window into the soul of a courageous orphan, trying his best to live a harsh but good life.
Said window of vitality had been shattered, and the broken glass was used to carve death into his gaze.
Like the tired eyes of a soldier wading through a devastated battlefield, piercing his spear into one wounded enemy after the other, bringing eternal rest with every move.
The sad eyes of a doctor sending off a cold body, which had been full of warmth mere moments prior, before walking towards the next corpse in the making, reaching for life while leaving behind nothingness.
They were an abyss promising desolation unto everything they beheld.
And those eyes unblinkingly stared at the noble scion who had attempted to pry into things he did not have any right to know.
“Hehehe, can’t blame a boy for trying,” Ayer stammered, trying to hide the terror he felt behind a forced smile. Even for a knowledgeable noble like himself, this situation was too much.
The chaotic feelings in Roland’s eyes receded upon hearing the scared noble. He ended up simply standing there with and empty look, like a marionette whose strings had been cut.
After a few seconds that felt like an eternity Roland abruptly bowed, spine cracking like old wood as he quietly whispered, “I will be taking my leave, Your Excellency.”
And once Roland’s head rose again his unfocused eyes seemed to glaze over, the three people in front of him not existing inside them anymore.
Stumbling forward with chaotic movements he left them behind and started his way back towards the bridge.
Goosebumps ran all over Ayer’s body. The grating movements of the boy in front of him were incredibly disturbing. They almost seemed like a grotesque counterpart to the fluid movements his guards had previously displayed.
In a last-ditch effort to push away his fear he shrilly screamed at Roland’s back, “I can’t stop Claire from spending time with your filthy group, but remember this. If that ugliness inside of you taints as much as a single strand of her hair, I’ll make you pay. You hear me!”
The words echoed in their surroundings, bouncing between the ruins. However, the way Roland showed not even the slightest reaction, and instead mechanically kept on walking his twisted path, left no doubt.
Much less hear him, in Roland’s mind the person know as Ayer Toktuam did not currently exist. Nothing did, besides a formless serenade of cries coming from his very soul, and the winding road ahead.
The road looked long, seemingly endless. But walking on it wasn’t all that hard. After all, there were only two directions Roland could go.
Backwards not being one of them.
*
Watching the maniac leave, Ayer let out a long breath. Today ended up being a tad more taxing than he expected. And a lot scarier.
“Ha ha, that was certainly intense,” the shaken boy joked, more to himself than his guards. “Going to have nightmares tonight for sure.”
“Though I am certainly relieved,” Ayer remarked. Arms stretched behind his back, he once again looked towards the sky. “For a second there I thought he might actually be a good guy. Just imagine how awkward it would have been if he started crying or something. Onlookers might have mistaken me for a villain.”
“But no,” the gilded boy continued, eyes closed as small shudder ran through him when he pictured the previous scene is his mind’s eye. “He has no righteous heart. Someone with that kind of look in his eyes can’t be anything but evil.”
“Do you think this will be enough to satisfy her?” for the first time since they appeared Ayer directly addressed his guards. The double nod he got as a reply made a smile bloom on his face.
“Ah, what we don’t do for love,” Ayer mused, shaking his head chidingly. Once again the friendly salesman, any traces of the previous encounter were gone. “I’m such a romantic, it’s almost embarrassing.”
Inexplicably content with the way things ended, Ayer started heading home. Making doubly sure he took a wide berth around a recently renovated old bridge and the orphanage. Just in case.