Joe woke up with a start, sweat clinging to his body drenching his clothes. He breathed hard and his mind was dizzy. Heart thumping and roaring demanding to be let out from his chest. He sat there for a while, took deep breaths clutching the edge of his bed he tried to calmed himself. He looked around the rectangular bedroom with thick books organised in an articulate manner. Same for his coordinated wooden and metal furniture. Wooden floor dotting an ancient rug, walls painted with a wallpapered dado. Murky colors dotted the entire room, giving the feeling of living in a castle; An organized castle. This confirmed him, his heart was still beating, he was still here, alive.
The door was ajar; implying his roommates had heard the commotion and still hadn’t come rushing. He raised his eyebrows at that, huh I guess yesterday’s words did had some effect… and then he truly thought about it and dismissed the notion… Nah they should have just passed out from yesterday’s celebration. He sighed and got up, unsteady on his feet he tumbled and clung to the wall for support. Anger boiled within him, He hated it; hated having alcohol, hated having no control of his own body; hated having to embarrass himself in front of others in this state; hated…. Okay, calm down. Deep breaths. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths. He shouldn't be angry, it was his fault afterall. Now steady and in control of his thoughts he strode out of the room.
Outside was chaos. Things were scattered, alcohol bottles everywhere; broken bottles. The air had a stench of vomit and alcohol leftover from yesterday, food littered around, all congregated in a circle therein which lied a man. Blondie messy hair clumsily hung over a haggard face which only accentuated his handsome appearance. A scar under the right eye stretching towards his cheekbone, reminding of the spoken horror of a confession he shared yesterday. Asleep peacefully, not a single care for the world.
Joe stood there reeling in from the sight of the room, he remembered little before the confession, bits and pieces of hazy memory only instigated his irritation for the state of the room. Yesterday’s celebration would have been quiet an affair if not for Matt’s liquor, which who knows where he got from, and Marcus’s presence.
Joe called him out ”Marcus wake up!”
He stirred and mumbled incoherently under his breath, but still laid on the red carpet refusing to leave to it’s warm embrace. Shuffling of footsteps was heard and the door across the room opened. Matt came from his room. His Chestnut coily hair tight in a ponytail revealed a chiseled, warm face. He wore a black embroidered full sleeved overcoat with a crimson undershirt beneath. His dark brown pants and leather boots that came up to his thighs emphasized a regal look. His strides showcased the elegance in his steps. Still something was missing. Joe raised an eyebrow in confusion. Matt was under dressed; it was odd for him not to wear formals, especially today. Today was the day he was waiting for and was of utmost importance.
“Leave him be, I will wake him up. You can go ahead of us.” He said.
Joe simply nodded and went to my washroom, he would confront him afterwords. The lecture was important to him, just as it was to Matt and Matt knew it. He finished his morning routine coming through the door back to the hall and heard a shouting match going on. Well, less of a shouting match and more of Marcus throwing a fit and ranting about something.
“Dammit Matt you manipulative bitch, every goddamnit time you use my father as an excuse” Marcus accused holding his head. He was still lying down, but it seemed like his hangover was catching up. He had the worst of it’s effects it seemed. But it was only his fault, nobody really told him to chug a third of the bottle, especially since Matt had already told him to be careful. And Matt never; ever, refrains Marcus from his usual antics. Except for jibes and occasional teasing.
“It’s not my fault you become a bitch every time someone mentions your father.” Matt said, holding a smirk. He loved teasing Marcus, and it was the only time I saw him curse, or behave “undignified” as he describes himself.
“Oh yeah, you have your father beat your ass every day in the name of training when he is upset and have that as your everyday routine you will also cower like a bitch when his name comes asshole.”
We both froze, There was a deafening silence in the room. His father was a sore topic for Marcus and their relationship was complicated. He didn’t like to talk about his father, or as a matter of fact his entire family. We didn’t know the whole story, although he would let bits and pieces escape from time to time. Last night being the instance, while drunk, we got a full confession out of him. Still, that was him being drunk, and we still didn’t know how to react to it. It seemed like forever but Marcus broke the tension
“Fuck! What the hell was that alcohol? I feel like someone used a sledgehammer on me” he exclaimed.
Thankfully it was an accidental outburst of the hangover. We both were relieved for the distraction and Matt hurriedly used it to change the topic. “You wanted strong alcohol, remember?”
“Where was it from, Matt? I haven’t tasted it.” Joe said. He really didn’t know the alcohol, it was strong and tasted good. An alcohol this good shouldn’t be unknown, but he didn’t recognize the bottle from yesterday. And that was peculiar; An expensive bottle of liquor is not just alcohol but a luxury product. And he had no information on it. Information which might have benefited him yesterday in not consuming such exorbitant amount of alcohol, leaving him drunk. He ought to know it. Insufficient knowledge only leads to the recipient’s harm and he would always want an upper hand regarding information.
Matt’s smirk widened, ”You wouldn’t know, it’s a specialty of Kruiddisal Empire. I had a hard time getting hold of it.”So that’s it. He procured it from the barbarians. It must have been difficult, they are known to be tenacious with their alcohol and…. violent. It looks like Matt’s family has gained yet another luxury product to deal in.
“Did you get the exclusive rights?” Joe prodded.
Matt looked at him his eyebrows twitching, he grinned ”Are you really asking me that?”
Joe just shook his head and smiled. He knew it was a forgone conclusion bit he still had to prod; many things have been off today about Matt, his attire and mannerism were one of the many other small things that made him seem… open, and he wouldn’t have Matt losing his edge.
“Damn, the barbarians make… um… strong stuff.” faltered Marcus and flashed us his trademark smile. He was tipsy and still hadn’t found his bearing. As he rose from the pile of vomit and alcohol bottles he faltered, plunging into the floor before he caught himself. Waving off Matt who was upon him in an instant, he stood shaking his head. He was in some control now, smiling and acting like a fool, probably had forgotten what he said earlier moments ago.
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Joe turned and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast when he heard Marcus slur ”hey… um.. Joe.. uh can you make me..” And he was promptly shut by Matt ”shut up your drunkard let him have his breakfast, he has a lecture to attend.”
That woke him up from his slurring fit, ”lecture?.. What lecture? I thought we graduated” he exclaimed. Marcus was always serious about lectures; a habit no doubt inculcated by his father. For the Quentin’s have a long history of producing officers for the justice department of the royal court, a tradition that they take pride in. And they can’t have their heir as a dumb bloke, they wouldn’t want anything less than a dumb law-abiding and uptight bloke who only sees things in either as absolutely wrong or absolutely right and passes that to his children.
”It’s his department’s alumni lecture. You have one too, if I’m not mistaken” Matt said, with a glint in his eyes, ”You do remember don’t you?”
“Oh Yeah the alumni lecture, I totally remember that” he said chuckling nervously.
“You sure about that?” Matt asked smiling widely.
“Shut up Matt! This isn’t about me”. Marcus huffed changing the topic.
As they bickered about trivial things. Joe ignored them to prepare his breakfast. He better not be late today, as only the first lecture is the important one. He went into the room to fetch the pamphlet given by the institute. It had all the lecture timings of his department with the names of the guest lecturers and their position across the royal departments in which they worked. He had two lectures to attend in total and was already lamenting it as a waste of his time. He hoped that at least the first lecture could entertain him and also to reaffirm himself if this whole debacle was worth it.
He also fetched his ornate black long sleeved furred jacket and a scarf which he had ordered for this very occasion. Looking into the mirror he could see his lean frame, well-toned muscles, a clean shaved face and deep black sharp eyes, with a calculative glint. A perfect jawline marred his handsome face. His short black hair perfectly gelled behind; giving him a dignified look. He closed his eyes and focused on himself, reminding himself who he was and what was he doing all this for.
Opening his eyes he looked on to the same piercing half lidded emotionless gaze and the relaxed face that has always comforted him. The youth in the mirror dropped his shoulders, relaxed his pose and gave a soft disarming smile.
Joe shuffled through the door just before he heard Matt call him ”I will meet you at the cafeteria.” He said. Joe nodded at him and went out through the door.
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The outside was a different world from the inside, no stench of vomit or alcohol, no mess of things. Just the morning fog that permeated and obscured the cobblestone road that connected the narrow alleyways to the main street. He draped his scarf as a gust of wind send a cold shiver to his body reminding him winter’s chill. He could only imagine what the rest of the month would be like if only start of winter is like this. He trudged along, traveling from the narrow and bendy streets of Bullmar, it reminded him of a snake swallowing its prey. It certainly was ingenious of the city planner to build the streets this way, which not only serve to hinder any army which might breach the capital by the narrow and sharp corners of the streets. But also act as a deterrent for any commoner riots or uprisings. Not that it would matter, any sort of rebellion will be quashed by the empowered mercilessly. Though to be fair the city was as exquisite as conveyed. It had separated the districts for nobility, commoners, military personnel, administrative personnel, a central district for trade purposes and the luxurious palace for the royal proceedings which was a district in and of itself.
He reached the main street and saw the first signs of the various tradesmen setting up their shops hurriedly. Even in the fog ridden morning where sun hasn’t shown, wasn’t enough to curb their meticulousness. Traders setting up of shops, huddling various goods alongside each other. Fruits and vegetables vendors sprinkling water on their goods and discarding the rotten parts to justify their overpriced product, farmers being duped in selling their crop produce at marginal rates. The big players though were still asleep, tired of counting their hard earned money all night, snatched from poor farmers and small traders who can’t stand up against the mighty Merchant’s Association which controls and manipulates the market. Wouldn’t that be an irony, Joe smiled, to be thinking you are in control and can manipulate people when someone else is pulling your own strings. He trudged along the cobblestone pathway past the rickety-looking wood and plaster buildings and set sight on the lone, humongous structure still visible from the distance. He arrived just as the sun came up, showering him with the majestic glory of the building.
Royal Educational Institute of Arts, a fitting name for such an institution. Two gigantic pillars rose from the ground to support the famous domed structure that the institute prided itself in. The uniformity of pillars, the monotone colors, the vibrant texture, the contradictions perfectly summarizes the institute; a place where knowledge and might thrives. A concept so conflicting in nature that they thought it was wise to inculcate them under the same roof.
Though not compared to royal palace or even the royal chamber of justice, it was a feat of architectural ingenuity that even majesty had nothing but praises for. Wide paved squares, decorated with plants and statues, a large fountain full of fish built in the center of the cobblestone pathway, luxurious patch of grass surrounded by various hedges, flower bushes and shrubs. The environment as a whole painted a serene picture where the future generations of the Vraetia Kingdom flourishes. As he stood before the towering obsidian gates of the institute he couldn’t help but scoff, what bullshit.
A look at the stone faced hulking guards standing at the fringes of the gate was enough to ruin his day. Ahead of him packs of students scuttled around, some fidgeted darting their eyes from one place to another, others having excited conversations at the prospect of sitting at the lecture for some reason. You don’t get to see a lot of emotions from administers, but today was a special day. Today one of our alumni Gregory Shellford, an active member of the open council and one of the few financial advisor's, who also coincidentally holds a seat in the chamber of commerce was here; And also giving a lecture. It was an honor for us to receive his guidance on the internal matters and the practical experience on how the chamber of commerce operates. It was also a chance to make connections with important figures who had the king’s ear on financial matters. His was the first lecturer and Joe was looking forward to it; not the actual lecture but the prospect of meeting with him. If he got the chance that is.
Joe went past through lush lawns, trimmed grass filled with rare flowers and the delightful fruity smell that waft through the winter air, into the echoing corridors of the dull and barren department of finance and finally spotted his professor. He stood at the edge of the classroom, a tall man, slightly dorky with the glasses. He was directing a group of students to arrange the necessary furniture and to set up the stage. He caught a glimpse of Joe and beckoned him over.
“Joeseph, come to my room after the lecture, I want you to meet someone.” He said.
Joe raised his eyebrow, confusion written on his face, but he nodded nonetheless “understood”.
The professor nodded and went away ushering everyone who was listening in to focus on their own work. A smiled crept up Joe’s face; this was good, his investments are paying off. Finding about professor’s political connections wasn’t hard, it was genuinely a fortuitous discovery. But keeping it hidden from others and creating a facade to be helping out of his own accord was tiresome. He would not have worked for the department head if not for his administrative and political connections. It was a fair trade off; a bit of his time to help the professor with his work and writing academic papers in exchange for the department head’s favor. Which might have been payed off massively in the future. Like now.