Chapter 21
Arthur turned in the mirror, admiring the cut of his jacket and trousers as he viewed himself from differing angles, pleased with what he saw and fairly confident he wouldn't be making an ass of himself. He patted down his pockets, feeling for his phone, or—well, at this point, it was more a command tablet than much else, but… habits did die hard… Likewise, he felt almost naked without a wallet on him, as though his consciousness knew he was about to head to the store and should have it well and snugly tucked away in his pocket regardless of its current usefulness. It didn't matter that old-world money was meaningless here or that he hadn't had the damned thing on him for years now… An entire lifetime of training himself to never leave it behind when he was preparing for an outing, returning to the forefront of it all and causing him much-unneeded anxiety… Still, he gave himself one last once over, fixing a strand of hair that refused to abdicate its place falling from his forehead before he just gave up.
Beyond Dianna and his own chamber, Tulla was already waiting patiently in the dining room, watching a show on her own tablet while dressed in her latest finery. The dress was not too far indifferent from something to be found within his own homeland, though, with a little more—archaic flare. Appearing to be more of a combination piece of toga and sundress that hung from the shoulders but allowed for plenty of breezes and air about the legs. Delicate in its chiffon-like appearance, yet woven, or in this case, printed of a material durable as spandex.
The girl liked it well enough, sharing much in common with what a young aristocrat might wear in the warmer months, which were currently upon them. All with just a little deviation from what might be seen as the norm. This was her, thus far, favourite example of the various colours she’d been presented with, a sort of orange and fiery red that quite complimented her darker and more bronzed complexion. The fact she’d already learned that the material was somewhat elastic made it all the better.
“Mom still in the washroom?” He asked, eyeing his daughter as she shook her head.
“Outside with Bianca.”
Arthur—hesitated a moment as he slowly nodded… Sighing inwardly, he made his way outside. What he was greeted with was the decided end of a conversation. One where his wife fondly caressed the cheek of her niece before kissing her as their culture was fond of doing, though on a location that might not have been quite so normal. The demoness wore a dress of flowing skirts, fanciful in their ethereal layers yet practical enough to move in. Transitioning from a similar material to Tullas own, though with more leg exposed, to a sort of corseted top that he knew merely followed the lines of her impressive figure, stunning to behold as it was, truly stole the show. Nobility would have been the first thought in which any of higher society would have while gazing upon her, his initial design somewhat—reworked. Lace, straps and floaty sleeves gave her a gothic air given her requested choice of colour had been black. The ensemble was frankly intimidating, looking almost combative, as though the outfit's upper half could, at a moment's notice, be replaced with breastplate so she might ride off to war…
His eyes glanced between the pair, finding it difficult to stray from his wife's titillating allure, and yet, the—downward glance of the other party present, her expression clearly bashful in her apprehension, was as much an intrigue as his significant other. Doubly so as he took note of the device that was seated at her ear, display active before her left eye. Dianna beamed at him before sauntering over, her dress causing her to nearly drift upon the wind as she moved, arms wrapping him in an embrace that he returned, even as she leaned down to whisper in his ear.
“Thank you for being so trusting my love.” There was a kiss on his head before she released him, the shadow cast by her stature keeping him in momentary shade before she placed both hands on her hips and returned her attention to Bianca. "My niece won't allow anything to befall our abode while we're gone. Her word, once given, is as good as gold.”
Arthur—regarded the youngest Costis and the latest addition to his growing family, at least, that he’d met so far. The hardened officer regained her composure in record time, meeting his gaze with a steely confidence that brokered no complaint to her aunt’s claims. He—knew that the woman held intentions to clear out the possible nest nearby… A dangerous and bold goal given what he’d come to understand how violent such encounters could become. Thus, when his wife had approached him and requested a full suite of new cards of a reduced capacity to her own, he hadn't blinked an eye. Though the misunderstandings that had occurred during her initial arrival had painted the Centurion as something of a fanatic, the truth of the matter was less. Arthur’s read was that she was much simply more patriotic and young. Idealistic and eager to prove. He still wasn't privy to what happened during their time abroad; however, since then, his wife's niece, his niece, age be damned, had acted in a decidedly defferential light to her aunt. A—abrubt change from her prior beligerance that hadn't been at all lost on him. Then, following this, Dianna had taken it a step further, advocating for her niece's allowance to make use of his drone network, restricted as it was for her. A boon that hadn't even been yet offered to the woman's own parents, to whom Arthur was decidedly closer.
Beneath her command, she held no fewer than fifteen drones of a primarily scouting variety. Their chassis not as armoured or resilient as some of his creations that roamed the planes, however, they were deadly all the same, as well as equipped with the tools to best perform their primary role. The idea had been sold to him as a favour to Tavir and Cassandra, who, over the weeks, had become fast friends with him. The invaluable aid they would supply in serving as her vanguard through the potentially cavernous subterranean network, ensuring that Bianca could be as prepared as she could be when the inevitable fighting occurred, the gesture much appreciated by all parties related to her. Now, somehow, that had transitioned to Bianca standing as warden for their home as well and being bequeathed with a kind of power that was now only second to his wife… Bianca, evidently no longer interested in delivering their secrets into the hands of her precious legions, but instead, defending them from would-be thievery. Not that she was necessarily needed for such a task as Arthur had Chuck keeping an eye on things all the same. Yet, the meaning behind it all wasn't exactly subtle. Whatever Dianna had done, it had seemingly convinced her kin to her own banner.
Bianca didn't avert her gaze when their eyes met, though her head did tilt fractionally in a downward direction… which, if he had any guess of it, meant there were no longer any hard feelings harboured… “Just remember.” Arthur enthused, allowing his thoughts to recede as he smiled and took on a more jovial expression. “You're the only one of you're people who can enter the house if it's for some reason needed. Please ensure to—impart the dangers of interacting with my property for those without permission.”
The centurion stiffened, her back straightening and head lifting as though standing at attention, the curt nod all she was willing to share but… sometimes, an acknowledgement without the frills was exactly what was called for.
“She will behave, my love. Trust the confidence I have likewise placed with her. She is a good girl who understands where her loyalty truly lies and to whom her future most shines with.”
Again, there was a—look that the pair shared, entirely indecipherable to him but that existed nevertheless. All the same, Dianna gave him no reason to worry, and she knew her kin better than he did. With a shrug, he clapped his hands, a smile still upon his face as he hooked his wife's arm and spun her away, done with playing family politics for the foreseeable future and eager to leave it all behind. “Then, lets grab our little princess and be off with it. I'm excited to see what passes for a city here.”
Having never visited the Kaitrice himself, Arthur depended on the oftentimes extraordinary capabilities of his peculiar brand of soul cards to navigate the journey ahead. Teleportation had become familiar to him, almost in a fashion, routine, given how frequently he relied upon it. However, there was still an undeniable place in his hat of tricks for souls cards! Especially since they could often preform wildly in excess of his own abilities. Likewise, no amount of experience, prior life included, had prepared him for the cultural shock of suddenly transitioning from a tranquil, open field to the bustling heart of a sprawling metropolis.
The first assault upon his senses was auditory. The relatively quiet life he had grown accustomed to was shattered by a deluge of noise, overwhelming and endless. The cacophony of voices—of conversations, of laughter and shouts, it all mingled with the rhythmic clamour of countless footsteps, hammering into his mind and momentarily skewing his sense of reality. The olfactory onslaught was, unsurprisingly, no less intense. The air a decidedly revolting blend of sharp contrasts, from the fetid odour of sour sweat and unwashed bodies to the cloying, almost stinging sweetness of somewhat offensively poptent perfumes. All of it just adding another layer to the chaos, the unrepentantly vile brew that burned his nostrils, mirrored by the vivid, bustling spectrum of people surrounding them. Arthur's eyes took in a veritable sea of adventurers, all adorned in a miscellaneous mix of armour and bearing a variety of weapons from all marital walks of life. Some looked freshly polished, gleaming and ready to stand at the parade, while others bore the dubious and flaking stains of recent battles, brutal wear or simple neglect... These adventurers, who would likely look right at home in any number of the virtual worlds humanity cherished, moved in a fluid mass, their garb ranging from simple hides to ornate laminar steel and beyond.
Merchants, vying for attention, called out amidst the throng, offering their goods with promises of unbeatable prices and exceptional or covetous uncommon wares. Many called their neighbours charlatans or hacks, while others attempted to coax business from the crowds by playing music or simply wandering out to take the arm of random passersby, leading them with merry smiles and assurances towards a good deal. And, among it all, were the city's denizens themselves, moving through the pandemonium with the practiced ease of seasoned city-dwellers, of which, for whom, this insanity was like as not just another average Tuesday at the market.
Arthur stood in the middle of it all, paralyzed by the sheer intensity of the frankly astonishing change. Yet, whatever he felt, for better or worse, was magnified infinitely for poor Tulla. The girl seemed to have shut down entirely, her wide-eyed gaze reflecting the overwhelming nature of the press of bodies and sounds that hadn't ever possessed a facsimile of comparison to her young and somewhat bumkin ways. Sure, there had been people moving about in the legions: soldiers, accountants, medical practitioners and those like herself who followed along with the baggage trains. Individuals who belonged to or were a family of or simply followed along after the soldiers. Yet, the possible thousands of souls that might exist as part of such a force were rarely packed so tightly together and without decorum. Here, in this—urban nightmare of a city, thousands more were slapped together like sardines in a can, each moving so close to one another that shoulders had to bob and weave simply to get by one another!
Arthur felt Dianna's steadying presence beside them both, her arm intertwining with his own and that of their daughters, guiding them with expert ease through the throng. She placed a comforting hand on Tulla's back once the girl froze again, gaze fixated in wonder upon the colossal statue's that sat in the plaza’s far reaches, looming over the massive space as though standing sentinel to watch for any neerdowells. Gently, she shepherded her away from the central dais where they had materialized and towards the flow of traffic on the crowded arrival platform. Dianna’s calm and controlled demeanour acting as an anchor for them all, helping Arthur regain his composure, albeit in a sort of meandering manner. He looked at his daughter, saw the mix of awe and confusion in her eyes, and squeezed Dianna’s hand in silent gratitude. Knowing he might just be teased for having reacted in such a starstruck way but… it was, truly, without experiencing it for oneself, impossible to comprehend…
The matrix of living, snaking pathways stretching amidst the fluctuating crowd before them, seemed nearly as impenetrable as they were random to follow, but with Dianna leading the way, they began their integration into the city's bizarre rhythm, navigating the cultural whirlwind with cautious steps, aided by the fact that, as per usual, Dianna was among the largest people around them.
The trio moved steadily away from the central hub and eventually merged with other newcomers, likewise adapting to the city's frantic pulse, dipping away from the utter moshpit of people that were arriving from the grand portal-archway and bleeding off into the greater ocean of souls. It was a somewhat gradual thing, yet Arthur began to appreciate the frenzied energy in the metropolis, recognizing the layers of activity and interaction that made it a living, breathing entity which, in some honest ways, he’d sort of missed once leaving society back home. The bars, clubs, dancing, celebrations and parties. The ability to wander into nearly any building on the street and be served either booze, food or live music. The fun he’d had while meeting new people, the nightlife of it all where he’d chased girls, made friends and acted the goofy fool… It was all here. Different, clearly; however, he could feel it already beginning to worm its way into his veins… Sense that special—resonant animation that utterly threatened to consume you until you were a part of it!
It was a rush! And yet, after the initial wonder, though still present, it excitement of it did start to fade into the background of conscious awareness. And, in doing so, Arthur realized that this, too, was just one more part of the labyrinth’s—complexity. It wasn't just some—place. Some arbitrary land where you popped in to slay some monsters, one that existed for a sole and narrow focus. Rather, that was merely the surface. Instead, it was a vast dynamic of mingling civilizations, a massive melting pot of differing cultures and species that seemed perfectly willing to blend all who appeared in its midst. Inviting them in and shoving new ideas and concepts upon oneself, regardless of prior predilections until they not only merely looked like they belonged but had succumbed to the immense pressure from all sides.
“And here I assumed you were from a city…” The tall demoness mused, tone laughing as her voice shook Arthur from the madness of it all and returned him to his senses. The young man needed to earnestly jostle himself to clear his roiling thoughts before he glanced up at Dianna with a reticent smile…
“I am, but that doesn't mean I can’t be surprised. This is just all a good deal more ruggedly disorganized than what I'm used to.”
“More or less people?”
“Hard to say…” Arthur murmured, wondering that very same thing. It was one thing to simply wave it away and claim it in his favour through virtue of some—misplaced sense of human pride. But the earnest truth of it was that there had to be tens of thousands of bodies where he stood alone, all crammed into the same cluttered space while somehow still following an utterly nonsensical order to it all… It honestly felt like what an overpopulated third-world city looked like in the videos of such back on Earth… And, while he was tall, he was not at all the tallest around. For every head he could spy over, it felt like there was another to block his sightline… Species of all manner a variety, from the bal as he had grown accustomed to, to bipedal bestial sorts that, while humanoid in form, was not at all so in face. Madder still was when he looked to the sky, only to see that the walls and shops weren't at all limited to the ground! Winged pedestrians of all flavours fluttered about and clung to guidelines and ropes, skittering across bridge ways upon many legs or, simply—floating without clear means of propulsion. Each and every one about their individual businesses and lives that might lead them to a skewer shack selling roasted meat or a fashionable house for tea.
“Madness!” He accused, glaring at the insanity of it all.
“Kaitrice.” Dianna corrected. “Melting pot of the Lacunae.”
It took some time, but eventually, they travelled deep enough into the labyrinthian city, so the herd of bodies thinned. The trio moving through cobbled streets amidst the masses. Arthur’s defensive gadgets occasionally zapping the odd fingers that reached too near his own pockets as they walked, discouraging thieves but not evidently not wholly warding them away. Eventually, Dianna abruptly laughed, pulling them aside to a small vendor which had a few people already in line.
“Things get cleaner the deeper into the city we venture.” She assured, an eye constantly upon her daughter who, while not sticking at their side, knew how out of place she was whilst exploring and remained in general proximity.
“Any way to make sure we don't portal in where we did the next time? Honestly, the number of hands reaching for my pockets rivalled people in the village.”
“At least they went for your pockets.” His wife chortled, grinning cruelly and showing teeth. “I had to snap a few fingers for the places they dared explore in my passing.”
Arthur glanced at the woman, giving her a considering look from head to—hooves. “Right… maybe something a little less showy then? For the next time?”
“Ha! Goodness no. I only brought you this way for the experience of it all; nothing quite hits like one's first time at the city's central portal. After this, I’ll show you where other mages and those of a—shall we say, higher pedigree connect to the anchor runes in nicer neighbourhoods.”
Nodding, Arthur bobbed his head toward the vendor who was watching them whenever he thought they weren't paying attention. No doubt wondering if they were interested in his wares but clearly uncertain as compared to the vast majority of those around them, if not all those around them, their little family was dressed of an undeniably higher station than he was used to seeing.
“Perhaps for a snack…” Dianna allowed, her head cocking to the side. “However, if we are to be of a higher status, we must act as higher society would. There are many eateries of an appropriate standing that I do desire to visit. You're cooking is wonderful, dear; however, it is the adventure of it all that I crave.”
“Nothing wrong with a ritzy steakhouse. Fine dining is its own kind of fun when all dressed up.”
“I wouldn't know…” His wife murmured, almost bitterly as she turned aside, causing Arthur to immediately move to action.
He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in and shifting the demoness who allowed herself to be moved at his insistence. Staring up at her as he smiled as genuinely as he could, raising one of her hands so he could kiss its knuckles with mischievous delight. Putting on airs and acting the foppish gentleman, committed to trying to keep his wife from dwelling on aspects of her past. “Dianna, you are the most stunning date I’ve ever had. Would you do me the honour of your bewitching companionship while we explore what being filthy rich is like?”
Surprisingly, the demon flushed. Her eyes liding slightly as she stared at him before smiling again, some of her prior confidence returning. “You're beginning to mimic our way of speaking, you know, and it almost feels like we sometimes converse absent the translation limitations these days....”
“Am I?” Arthur commented, not surprised in the least to hear her say it. Though it felt a little silly to talk as they did, it was a bit of fun, if he was honest. Especially when everyone had a sort of highbrow cadence to them, well, not everyone, but certainly the demons. However, as to the language barrier, well, he’d—been practicing… cheating as well, but it was a healthy mix. “Honestly, you're magnificent, dear. Born to it or not, its not I that am turning every head that passes, but you.”
“Stop with the flattery…”
“Then lead the way. I am used to politer society than soldiers, so wherever you take us, I shall endeavour to escort you and pave the way.”
She snorted the sound of it something he could never hear enough of for how cute it bloody well was. “Says the man who hasn't ever set foot in this city all his life.”
“Well, how else would you have me cheer you up? Should we buy something utterly needless for ourselves, like a—building or… enterprise just for the absurdity of it?”
Leaning down, Dianna kissed him on the lips, returning to her usual self as she rolled her eyes at her husband's antics. They didn't buy something so useless to their designs; however, they did, shortly thereafter, embark upon a wine-sampling tour, fitting right in with the other socialites as they travelled. Nobody ever even asked them for payment once he’d expressed interest in a more—detailed look at some choicer spirits. Arthur reaching into the void to retrieve some of the currency that Dianna had exchanged on a prior visit, having explained in great detail exactly what she’d wanted him to create so as not to appear suspicious.
Money, as the wealthy so often stated, could not buy happiness. However, Arthur had always thought that was a load of bullox. He was loaded and perfectly happy to exchange a pittance of his exorbitant wealth for whatever new and curious delights at every opportunity he was offered. The owner of the current winery they were visiting was so enthused that Arthur had evidently bought one of his more prestigious vintages that Arthur and Dianna found themselves invited to peruse their rear stock.
Rows upon rows of bottles, each cradled within nests of some strange material, rose on all sides like sheer walls of a cliff. A single rolling ladder served as the lone way to reach those high above, while below, countless tags describing the most minute detail of their prospective bottles hung like decorations as far as the eye could see. Arthur found himself lost in the novelty of it all, smiling like a child at Christmas as he spoke animatedly with the proprietor over questions of parings and flavours. Several bundles of glittering cards changed hands as both parties, beyond excited, shared in the private exclusivity of rare tasting behind closed doors. Then they were shopping again, only somewhere else! Tulla fluttering about between stores of abhorrently expensive clothing and gazing upon all they had to offer. Occasionally buying things that caught her eye or turning up her nose with almost practiced snobbery before giggling like a child as she darted off to the next. In all honesty, Arthur was simply enjoying watching the two girls as they spent hours being fitted, placing orders and enthusing over a part of life they’d never indulged in.
The sheer quantity of souls they were dispensing was—staggering, to say the least. The value of what changed hands was presumably able to solve the majority of nearly all his dilemmas the weeks prior to their visit. However, rushing such matters felt pointless… while this… Watching Dianna and their daughter weave through shop after shop like women possessed. Indulging in all the aspects of life that had been denied them... All that had been absent, their ability to grasp or simply never appearing to them while offering opportunity, that was what was priceless for him. Their smiles warmed his chest in ways he’d never felt before. Their laughter and cheer, the earnest glee in their eyes… How exuberant and filled with life they were… It was—indefinable for him... something he couldn't have even written down to point it! But that, nevertheless, offered him a sort of joy that held no direct comparison in his former life… Family. Not just his childhood one, but one he’d chosen for himself… Seeing those he loved divest themselves of their hard lives and fully embrace this other half of existence was bliss for his weary soul…
Yet, as all things might, Arthur's initial excitement began to falter as an unsettling reality encroached upon his thoughts. The labyrinth’s strange city had been a queer if not fun experience, one playing upon the ever-quivering rope between curious modernity and a disquieting darkening age. Still, for the most part, it had been an almost child-like wonderland to explore, teeming with interesting and colourful strangers and personalities that had largely defined their enjoyable experience. Wealth did have a tendency to make others view one with favour, but there it was, unpleasant as it might be to hear. However, the market they now approached promised to be something far dimmer than the amusement they’d all enjoyed through the afternoon.
Long before it came into view, the sounds reached them: the relentless clink and clank of metal clashing against metal, the uproarious proclamations of auctioneers, the macabre cheer of buyers calling out their bids… And all through it, a heavy atmosphere that seemed to taint the very air they breathed, thickened as though one might taste it...
Arthur felt a shiver run down his spine as Dianna grabbed his arm, her touch firm but comforting as any could be, her attempts at a reassuring touch—appreciated, but it did little to steady the uneasy feeling Arthur got merely in their approach. "Welcome to the Black Quarter, love," she murmured. Her voice carried a weight that made Arthur steel himself for what lay ahead.
The trio stepped into the bustling promenade, and Arthur’s senses were immediately assailed by a scene of torment and suffering the likes of which he—hadn't ever experienced. His stomach churned as his gaze wandered with ever-growing sickened curiosity, and he fought the urge to retch upon more than one occasion wherein he saw something—truly vile... Rows upon rows of cages lined the pathways, each filled with desperate, emaciated and ruinous figures. Some were bal, others, beings he couldn’t even begin to identify with too many legs, arms or even heads… yet all were reduced to mere commodities in this callously evil place that brazenly showcased sentient lifeforms as things to be bartered for.
Arthur's feet moved mechanically, his mind struggling to cope with the societal horrors around him. Every glance revealed something more detestable than the last, each shift of his gaze promising something he knew he’d despise. Here, a creature with pleading eyes reached out through the bars, its fingers trembling, nails long since peeled away to reveal blackened and infected scabs... its voice quivering with a desperate plea that horrifically, thanks to his own cards, Arthur could understand... There, an auctioneer's booming voice echoing, announcing the latest bid to a howling outcry that almost sounded like—entertainment… Tulla walked beside him, her own eyes wide with a mixture of fascination and uncertainty. Clearly unsure what exactly to make of what she was seeing… He wanted to shield her from the grotesque reality, regardless of what he knew of her nature, but there was no escaping it… and, earnestly, she was holding up far better than he regardless… Looking but not reacting with open disgust. Seeing the insanity of it all but trying to parse it in her own way. The market stretched endlessly before them, a true-to-life maze of depravity genuinely deserving the name, all of it naught but cruelty masked beneath the guise of commerce.
"How can this be allowed?" Arthur found himself whispering, his voice barely audible above the din and clamour of a true abyssal pit of depravity...
Dianna’s grip on his arm tightened, her eyes filled with a surprisingly sorrowful resignation, an—expression he hadn't expected to see on her face, considering how eager she’d been to come here. "It’s just another part of life that no one really likes to talk about. But in a place like this, you're new universe, I shall remind you, where people seek power and riches by whatever means they can manage—true cruelty… often finds many a foothold to secure itself..."
Arthur nodded grimly, understanding that this was, whether he liked it or not, yet another facet of the labyrinth, no, of the Lacunae. Of his new world—a stark contrast to the almost magical experience he’d felt above. It was a sobering reminder that, in places where light might shine the brightest, shadows often grew long and dark… While his time after being—transported here could largely be attributed towards a positive and pleasant change, now Arthur was getting a first-hand look at what archaic societies, possibly forever lost within their technological stagnation, bred. Endless war, bigotry, the greed of the powerful, the disdain for those without the power to protect themselves. It always led to the same things. Slavery, monarchies and death. And, the Black Quarter was merely one more testament to that unyielding truth.
Swallowing his disgust, Arthur pressed forward, determined to leave this wretched place behind at his earliest ability to do so. If that meant he’d need to delve in and immerse himself with a dunk of the head, then he’d do it. Yet, the scenes he saw still burned into his memory as he passed them and would undoubtedly remain a haunting reminder of what a world lacking universal law and order defaulted to. Yes, his world hadn't been perfect, the global government that had emerged not without its own skeletons buried, but once all the dust had cleared, it was certainly better than this… What had started as a somewhat thrilling adventure only earlier that morning had unveiled an undercurrent of corruption and despair that ground at his nerves like live wires… challenging his perceptions and testing his resolve to the degree that had him ponder, not for the first time in recent memory—darker thoughts that percolated in the back of his mind... Notions towards if what he saw before him should be allowed to exist festering in a sort of simmering disgust that transcended mere musings...
“Why are some in chains while others are not?” Tulla inquired, gaze narrowing upon the differences in those proffered around her. Eyes never seeming to linger too long on any single individual, continuously scanning her surroundings, lost in the fanfare of it all…
“Some are bound merely by servitude,” Dianna stated, continuing to move through the thickening crowd as she led them. “They offer oath or are otherwise forced into obedience, typically through a magical means. At the same time, those who you see bound in rope or iron are of a—lesser quality that doesent warrant more expensive effort. Those individuals are more than likely bound for true misery, mines, ships, factories or slave armies… That is why they are all grouped together. Those interested are not purchasing a single life, but many, and often times doing so cheaply.”
“Armies entirely made out of slaves? Wouldn't they just—run off or revolt?” Arthur scoffed, incredulous at the concept.
“They might, though the punishment for such a thing is often harsh. Those who are willing to employ such tactics to fill their ranks usually possess the adequate—talent to instill fear within their hearts, not of death, but of reprisal for failure or disobedience. They are not always the most effective fighting forces… however, they can be efficiently easy to replace…”
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“And the rules on taking someone and forcing them into that situation?” Arthur demanded, grinding his teeth to keep from saying more.
Dianna glanced at him, gaze understanding as it was cold, answering with a detached dispassion that was much more the demon he remembered when they first met. “Murderers, rapists, thieves, and traitors.” She stated. “Though, that is merely the empire's outlook on things. The Lacunae is a large place, and our country, though mighty, is not nearly the largest of its kind. Many kingdoms do not prize laws of a—kinder nature… and those souls born to such lands could easily find themselves here for doing little more than insulting a corrupt constable. To say nothing of the countless other means one might run afoul of those in power where they live. For all I personally know, the majority of those here could be entirely innocent and simply—unlucky. However, it is not our place to try and save them, Arthur.”
He didn't agree with his wife as she turned away, allowing the conversation topic to die in the puddle they stepped over. Yet, he knew, on a certain level, she was right. He couldn't fix the universe. But did that necessarily mean he couldn't leave it slightly better? What if he just—bought them all? Used his powers and freed every single person here? Could he do it? How many cards would it take, and which ones would be the most valuable? Still, a thought, unbidden to his budding plans and standing as though to spit in his own face for all its needling irritation, rose to exist in direct conflict with Arthur’s planned generosity.
What if those in chains actually belonged there? It was a disgusting thought, but one that refused to be swept under the rug, his face scowling even as Dinna turned to notice his warring expression without comment. What if… What if there were murderers and rapists among those he would free? What if, after being liberated, they returned to whatever criminal tendencies that had landed them here in the first place? If he bought them, he’d be responsible for them, and in more ways than having to see to their needs. If he released a murderer, Arthur, in effect, abolished any form of ongoing repentance such an individual deserved to pay just because he didn't like their punishment. Would the families of those who’d lost a loved one to such a person thank him and see things his way? Or, would they scream in fury? Throw whatever they had at him, demand to know why the scum that had defiled their child was now, just like that, free to walk the world absent consequence. If such a monster were allowed into the settlement… would they try something like that again? Would Arthur be putting others at risk for his predilections on the matter?
Collared and enslaved as they might be now, Dianna had mostly explained that none would be dangerous once purchased. But did that even matter when he planned to emancipate them? Did he have the right to do so and play god with the lives of all those around him and deny justice to the others whose lives a true vermin of society had ruined? What was worse was the possibility that there were petty criminals among the very worst down here… those that had desperately taken what they’d needed just to survive and been labelled undesirable and sent away… Honestly, it was all—infuriating to try and ignore… And even if some of the very worst might find themselves free for the sake of those who didn't deserve it, wouldn't that still be worth it all?
“Dianna…” He whispered, eyes sliding to the tall demoness who watched him with pointed care. “I want to buy everyone here… how can we make that happen?”
A long and put-upon sigh released from his wife's lips, the statuesque woman turning and wrapping her mate in a single wing that dragged him into her side. Immediately, Arthur was hit with the calming reassurance of her natural scent, a curious anomaly that had, as of late, a significant effect on his decision-making skills once he’d been subjected to it. He didn't mind, really, as Dianna’s presence was—blissfully palliative, Arthur immediately pressing into her warm and inviting body as he allowed his racing thoughts to glide towards the peaceful…
“We cannot love…” She began, Arthur opening his mouth to protest when the tightness holding him in redoubled its efforts. “I understand that such a goal is less about our true purpose here and more something born of you're altruism, Arthur, but you must understand that such a dangerous road would shatter you…”
“It—couldn't… possibly…”
“It can and it will.” Dianna soothed, his wife, though he couldn't see it, wearing a cold but resolved expression that was as firm as iron. “These people will destroy you, and I do not only mean the ones you wish to save. Sure, I could help you discern which cards would allow us to buy all of those in this market with relative ease. And, should we follow through, Im sure we could even find them all a place within our plans. After all, I do keep saying that people are the resource we lack, do I not?”
Arthur—nodded his head at his wife's side, eyelids hooded in his strange, trance-like state amidst her warmth and intoxicating fragrance, his mind following along with complete clarity, despite the queer method used to calm him—yet, he knew Dianna was about to make her point, thus, kept silent and waited, expectant and ready to hear her looming explanation.
“Hm… You are such a kind individual, Arthur… despite how dangerous you can be, you really are too innocent in many ways—too corruptible…” She added, voice thick and rumbling, Dianna feeling her mate nuzzle into the side of a breast as she merely smiled at his actions. “Sadly, that is the crux of it. The largest issue with you is desires. Say we buy everyone here. No, say we go further and purchase all those in the back rooms. The sex slaves busily sucking cocks and tonguing assholes in the boutiques, the criminals, the peasants, skilled labourers who took an ill-advised debt or erred upon the wrong side of those with power whilst plying their trade. The innocents in the wrong place at the wrong time, the oathbreakers who abandoned their duties for any reason one might imagine. Say we took them all with us. Say they joined our blooming community, and you found them housing and jobs and food enough to fill their bellies each night, no matter how ragged such a goal would make you scramble! Say you pulled it all off without a hitch! What then? Would you be satisfied in knowing you've done a good dead that cost so little of yourself to accomplish, regardless of its relative impossibility for others? Would it satiate you? Make you feel ratified in your decision? Or, would it resolve you once realizing that this, all of this…” Dianna whispered, an arm moving to gesture towards the multitude of destitute souls around them, “is merely what passes through this place within the span of a single week?”
Arthur—shifted at that, his wife allowing her wing to maneuver so that he might stare upwards, meeting her glacial and emotionless eyes with those of the momentarily confused. Dianna merely smiled gently at him, her tail moving to brush softly at his cheek as she herself was affirmed in her suspicions on the matter, the demoness shaking her head as though to say it was all true, regardless of his surprise.
“A week.” She reiterated, almost—savage in her blunt affirmation. “You, of course, did not realize that Kaitrice is merely a single example of such a market amidst all those countless worlds you so often gaze so longingly at in the evenings… Interconnected as it might be with such—similar organizations, the fact of the matter is that you could never free them all… The moment anyone caught on that there was a philanthropic idealist in their midst, prices would explode! Merchandise of the flesh would flow into Kaitrician streets like it never has before! While those you so presumably despise for holding their collars would ensure they eke out any additional value they could from you by any means necessary. Maybe prices would continue to rise as you continue to willingly pay, maybe they might truly run out of more honest wares deserving of their fate and instead, turn towards more—despicable means to ensure their coffers never stop overflowing with you're money. And through all of this, you will need to keep finding those you free a place to exist or else be forced to simply release them back into the wild where they might do anything from committing what crimes they had prior to simply being captured by slavers as they had before, returning to this market where you will be forced to emancipate them time and time again. It will break you, Arthur. They will break you. Abuse you're inability to resist fighting back against what you so clearly hate, yet the only thing that will inevitably change is that you will work yourself to an early grave… All the while, causing those who fed you're ideals until they were grotesque and bulbous like an engorged leach, to become wealthy beyond compare… Then, when you finally cannot keep up, and the hope you so desperately held dear crumbles through the inevitably of you're own mortality, this place, the slaves, the market, the merchants and those who seek to buy from them, all of it shall return to a reflection of this very moment in time. Things will settle, and people will change, yet the Lacunae will continue on as it always has for time immemorial, and you, Arthur, my dear Arthur, shall be but a footnote attached to a waning legend that inspires hope amongst those who have none and, with you're passing, will receive less.”
When she was done, Arthur felt as though someone had taken his heart and squeezed it… Squeezed it as though willing to make juice of his morals... His gaze was distant and lifeless, body—loose and hardly holding itself aloft… Mind wishing so desperately to refute Dianna’s claims... Yet, lost in her embrace, he found it near impossible to reject its rationality… His mind even began finding all the ways it agreed with her…
“Mom… did you need to be so—brutal about that?” Tulla complained, one of her little hands moving to intertwine with her father’s own as he stood there, drifting as though on the breeze.
“I did. Though I'm not happy, I had to. Your father would have done exactly as I predicted he might—react. Sadly, he is not the only one who has ever had such thoughts.” She shifted, this time to meet her daughter's accusing gaze, her countenance taking on the harshness of her time whilst forcing them to the training yard, expression without remorse. “Such stories exist already Tulla, and are well documented to always end the same way. Our universe is simply too large for any one person to change! That is not an opinion on the matter but a fact. There are billions of people who live in distant kingdoms and cities that none of us shall ever so much as learn the name of! The vastness of our cosmos so great that, for all our imperium lauds itself as a grand power, there are countless of those who exist that shall never even know it was even here when time erodes it to dust. You cannot lose yourself trying to fix what is so far beyond you're reach! But… that isn't to say that there is no good to be done. It’s just that… that…” Dianna trailed, exasperated by the time she’d run out of steam that she could only sigh without finishing her own thought.
For his part, Arthur—got what she was trying to say. He didn't like it, but neither was Dianna attempting to dissuade him from being a good person. Rather, she was trying to protect him and narrow his scope of focus so his ideals didn't outpace his capabilities. He could still do it, he could still try and free as many people as he could manage, but there had to be a process to it all. Volume wasn't everything. And even if he couldn't make a difference in the grand scheme of it all, that didn't mean that those who were here, those who had been chained through no fault of their own, or that had suffered through accident or misdemeanour were beyond his help…
“How many can we take—now?” He found himself asking, surprised when his wife grinned down at him, squeezing slightly tighter with her wing in clear appreciation.
“For ourselves.” The demoness mused aloud. “We could reliably take care of a dozen servants; however, what we don't possess is the means to keep so many busy with work. For now, four will likely be the number we're looking for until,” she added somewhat slyly, “You begin clearing land around our abode for farms and housing. Then, once you see to such basic needs, Im sure we can expand towards other industries to accommodate our—potential to possess a limitlessly growing populous.”
Arthur felt love surge in his heart as his wife’s chilling demeanour softened, the much more reasonable lifeline she’d tossed his soul feeling as though it existed to do nothing more than bolster his affection. His arm tightened around the goddess he hardly believed he deserved, mind refocused and redirected in a way that actually began solving the multitude of concerns that had been dog-piling him since Dianna had first expressed interest in coming here.
“I—truly want few things more right now than to help make you're every dream come true, Dianna; I hope you realize that…” He whispered, not meeting the enormous beauty's gaze. Though, the way she purred with abject delight to his admission before her bladed tail began caressing his chest was—telling that she was pleased…
“Please don't…” Tulla whined, releasing Arthur's hand as she took a step away from her parents with an uncertain and perturbed look. “Not—in public… not while Im here…” She pleaded, a genuine growl escaping her mother’s lips as Arthur’s entire body shivered, the sound of Dianna’s serrated maw clacking with promise at his ear before blowing gently inside, causing nearly every receptor of pleasure across his flesh to prickle with expectation…
Ignoring her daughter entirely, Dianna’s voice rang cool and clear through the air as she smiled wickedly, licking the side of Arthur's face as though claiming him for all to see. “You're mine tonight, husband. But, do try and run from you're marital duties, the chase will make it all so much more—invigorating when I capture you.”
“Mom! There are people that can hear us!”
“And they will be fantasizing of you're mother as she swoops down from the darkness to take them as her personal love thrall, just as you're father currently is.” She laughed, a low and sultry ring flowing through the air and causing her daughter utter mortification as Arthur himself imagined doing his near future exactly as the demon had suggested…
“It doesn't even make sense, though!” the girl complained, wings hunching in with her shoulders as she nervously peered around at the crowd with drooping ears to see who might be paying attention. “He’s been yours every single night since you got back! Saying it out loud doesn't change anything!”
Dianna rose to her full height, allowing the air of passion she’d shared with her cutely trembling mate to—fade away as she glared at her daughter with a huff. “Truly, I do hope that one day, when you're older and with a brat of you're own at your side, you come to understand that adults like to play just as much as children do—right as you own spawn becomes as frightfully adept at ruining her parent's mood's as you are.”
Tulla just scowled at her mother with clear disgust for what she’d been doing in front of her, yet Arthur could only plan for his evenings—escapades, just as his wife had bade him. She was so much more enthused when he played to her more—predatory nature… It could be honestly quite fun to rile her up a bit, then run away and see how far he could get… He might just require medical attention the next day, which—was how all men wished to reach Valhalla in the end, regardless.
The next few hours moved as a blur to Arthur. The young man deciding that, in this specific case, he probably shouldn't involve himself more than he needed to. He still had machinations towards using his supposed vast wealth to help make the lives of some of the Lacunaes less fortunate’s better than they might otherwise be consigned to, but… as Dianna had made him realize, Arthur, simply put, wasn't ready. To just dump so many souls wholesale into what was practically a foreign wilderness without offering the means to sustain themselves was—stupid. He hadn't been thinking rationally… had let his emotions take the wheel and nearly drive them all off a cliff… They needed more if, indeed, they were to help anyone. More soldiers more food, more homes, clothes, education, animals, and pretty much everything else that revolved around a healthy society. Given that his wife wanted to be the queen of her very own kingdom, it wasn't like Arthur wouldn't be making inroads towards such requirements, to begin with; thus, time was ultimately what was needed, not irrational idealism. A queen needed subjects to rule just as those people required a figurehead to lead, a reality of all systems of governance employed, no matter which was observed. And, in all honestly, late-stage capitalism had so thoroughly gutted democracy that, in all actuality, he rather doubted their queendom would appear terribly different from Earth when he’d left it behind. It wasn't as though monarchies had to be inherently terrible, to begin with; more, it was, as it always came down to, the competency of those in charge that either made for a utopia or a slum.
Still, he didn't trust himself not to try and push his luck... Instead, allowing his wife to, in a fashion, live out her own fantasies of being a wealthy aristocrat and abusing her money to her heart's content. As part of her plan to one day be seen as the defacto authority within the settlement, Dianna hadn't been above taking full advantage of her position to put together rather generous gifts for the settlement as a whole. The primary merchant she’d had wrapped around her little finger while flaunting her assets, both physical and monetary, sealed the deal with her to provide no less than two thralls for every person in the village who was of age. It was a wildly expensive gesture, given that she hadn't settled for the dregs that had been offered. Demanding trades-people, skilled labourers, educated washouts from mage academies who had run afoul of loansharks and, more or less, anyone she considered of value to the community that she could reasonably get away with procuring. Dianna had combed through the living merchandise like a woman possessed, even going so far as to break a few of her own misgivings, buying more people than even she had initially wanted for no reason beyond that she considered their acquisition beneficial to her needs.
When all was said and done, contracts were drafted and signed; cards changed hands from the long fingers of Dianna to the greasy and scented palms of their new associates. And though nothing about the process sat exactly right with him, Arthur—had to grudgingly admit just how bureaucratically refined the whole system was. Their new property was both documented with the city officials who would act as absent witnesses to the transaction within the bounds of their authority and with their slaver's apparent guild, of which, Arthur learned, spanned entire worlds. The deeds of ownership were passed along to provide the local slavers association proof of ownership, the desired people were marked as sold, and they were told to return in just a few more short hours when everything would be prepared for—pickup… When they departed the district, Arthur felt distinctly stickier than he had when arriving… as though his mere presence upon its promenade affected him in a physical manner.
“I am proud of you, by the way.” His wife commented as the trio moved towards one of the many gates that led to the vast flowing gardens of the labyrinth's first floor.
For his part, Arthur just—shrugged, not really sure what, if anything, he could or should really say… His heart wasn't exactly in it after walking through the disturbing market and seeing just how chemically happy many of the more expensive of those on offer appeared… It had been exactly as Dianna had explained it… With those whose temporary masters appeared to be of his wife's heritage, holding the lion's share of such individuals who were, as it had been explained, magically bound to enjoy a life of servitude… He didn't like it, not in the least. Yet, Arthur would be rather hypocritical if he didn't see the irony in his sense of justice. Hadn't he killed a rather sizable quantity of people already? If not directly, then by way of supplying the overwhelming force that had done the deed. Moreover, he wasn't exactly obtuse to the fact that most of those people, while considered—lesser than his new friends and family, had merely been trying to obtain the means to feed themselves. War criminal would essentially be the title that would best fit him in the coming days if Arthur’s presumptions of the future were even remotely close to what would transpire… Yet, in truth, he was growing dull to the concept of death that saturated his new universe, which, in fact, even actively encouraged it… In all honesty, he already felt the telltale signs of himself drifting away from his prior enthusiasm to be the next Spartacus. His confrontation with the sheer magnitude of those being sold in the giant city just—tempering him in a way that simply couldn't be explained through a handful of words…
“It's not my homeland.” He eventually replied with a burst of air from his lungs, for the first time, really understanding what that short line of reasoning really meant to him. “I shouldn't be so hung-up over those that are unimportant… You,” He whispered, squeezing Dianna’s hand as he spoke. “and our daughter. Family. It is, in the end, all that can really matter in a place so—desensitized as it is enormous.”
“There are places to still do good, my love.” Dianna reiterated, though her eyes were as hard as they ever seemed when regarding the world around her. “It just—can't be all the time, or necessarily for strangers alone. The Lacunae is not a fair place. Were it, Cassandra and my I’s parents would not have abandoned us for orphans. We would not have had to scrape by upon the ill fortunes of those we wronged in the process of doing so. There would be no war, no famines or disease. Magic would be intrinsic to all without the barrier of talent or hard work, and everyone would be akin to a god in their own right.
Arthur took a deep breath of the city's rather poor air, nodding to himself and Dianna’s words as he mentally made the decision to cast away the gloom that had soured their outing mood and push through his grievances with the universe until such a time that he could do something about it. Instead, he eyed his wife with a raised brow, curious now rather than upset. “Orphans?” He inquired gently, noting how his demon’s expression deepened towards a grimace. Even Tulla seemed to perk up a bit at her mother’s comment, looking for all the world as though the topic of her possible grandparents was as much a mystery to herself as they were to her new father.
Yet, for all it clearly bothered Dianna in her past, the way she spoke alluded to the notion that she’d long since come to terms with her childhood and, while unpleasant, it wasn't something that any longer dogged her while nipping at her shins. “Cassandra took care of us after they disappeared from our apartment one day, no warning, no reason given, though, I suspect that—my particular—unwieldy nature had something to do with it… Children like myself, as I was, aren't so easy to take care of in cities…” She continued, sparing but a short glance for her daughter without revealing her thoughts towards the gesture. “Municipalities are places of society which isnt always a perfect fit for those born within it. Especially for those that more closely exemplify our people's natural tendencies. Such things can be and are moderated and softened by the presence of civilization, law and order and all the various things that help create a true community that can exist without the savagry left behind beyond the guise of society. Yet, every so often, individuals who just—don't belong still arise that, through nature's will, those who view such notions as ones that normal children might find enjoyable—lacking. I'm not saying I was the sole cause behind what happened to us, but… time and age allow one to look back on their earliest days and—understand why things might have happened as they had.”
“You weren't killing other children and taking their souls—were you?” Arthur asked, honestly—well, he didn't even know what to really say to that besides… just asking.
For her part, Dianna offered him a grim smile that would have told him regardless of if she decided to answer. Still, her voice carried through all the same, not bothering to react to her mate’s hesitant tone as she continued with casual ease. “That did happen. However, it wasn't quite such grisly business as you probably imagine. Sadly, these things in bal communities do transpire. We are combative, violent and exceedingly emotional until we discover how to regulate ourselves. Ours is not a soft species, Arthur. We're killers, nearly feral when we're young, and our instincts drive us towards desires that might otherwise seem—needlessly cruel to those beyond the understanding of my people's ways. Children fight with each other. It's a reality of life, only, due to our biology and soul cards, we can maim each other with much greater ease than others. Beastkin, for example, share many of the same pitfalls of youth that we ourselves also possess. Natural weapons and ferocious minds play havoc within our empire to the point that children too young to understand reason are isolated from each other like poorly trained hounds. I won't bore you with all the details of my childhood, love, but suffice it to say that my parents were not responsible individuals, and I managed to get a taste of what it was like to empower my soul from an early age and liked it. Cassandra was a little better, mind you, if not more discrete about it, and it was from her example that I learned, even if I wasn't as smart in my actions. Don't let my sister’s projection of serene perfection fool you; she’s as cruel as I am and frighteningly more devious.”
“So, you two—murdered other kids you're age and ate their souls?”
“Not specifically other children, but they were involved, yes. It is something of an epidemic, really, as I’ve said, bal children can be rather—problematic for civilized society. And, those that have them but fail to control such run-away problems are often severely fined if it is discovered their spawn have been up to no good… I was caught, my parents lost most of everything they had, and they blamed us, though me specifically, I suppose. Either way, they pissed off to wherever they did, and my sister took it upon herself to care for her little sibling the best way she knew how.” Dianna turned, staring pointedly at Arthur, who was coming to terms with what Dianna was opening up about, even if it did sort of paint her in an even deeper shade of slightly psychotic than she already was. Still, she wasn't quite done yet as they continued their walk towards the city's perimeter, her words flowing with a distinct lack of self-conscious shame like everything she’d thus far said were—normal. “Quite honestly, Arthur, you've no idea how surprised we all were once you brought Tulla home to us. You're very lucky, you know.” She added, Arthur feeling the small child at his side—stiffen as her mother spoke. “In her state, confused and likely scared, injured and confronted with a stranger, within a strange place. Many children her age would not be blamed for having—attacked the individual who threatened them, regardless if it was you're intent to do so. Even then, instincts are difficult things for us, and simply carrying her back with you might have, at any moment, ended with you watching as Tulla devoured your innards while still alive, it's a defence mechanism from our more—savage days that’s largely still with us. And it's not entirely uncommon to hear the odd story of a child eating their own mother or father who was too weak to resist them in a moment of extreme distress.”
Arthur thought back to that moment not so long ago when Tulla had commented upon his—scent… her eyes watching him with fixated intensity as they’d waited for Dianna to return from her search. He—eyed the girl sidelong, who quickly looked away with marked humiliation written all across her face, the young man, at that moment, realizing something equally concerning. “So, if we managed a—baby then…”
“Potentially, yes.” Dianna drawled, seemingly unconcerned. “But before that would even be a threatening concern, I'd intend for you to be strong enough not to be in such a physical state as to risk your getting devoured in such a fashion.”
Sensing the girl at his side, slowly melting away, Arthur sighed and corralled her back in, putting his arm around the mortified Tulla while leaving their potential fatal time together in the past… She fought him for the briefest of moments before, invariably tucking herself in, not saying a word and not needing to. Honestly, Arthur was just more surprised that he, much as he had when Dianna and Tavir had left his camper, had not been very far off the mark…
“So, what if we open and fund an orphanage when we are ready? Offer to take some of the children I’ve no doubt exist on these streets—away to better prospects? Since money isn't an issue, it shouldn't be hard to make sure kids don't go through that sort of desperation and hopelessness, no?”
“I think I’d enjoy that.” Dianna nodded, a slight smile forming at her lips. As she kept her gaze forwards, though, the nuzzle of her tail against his side spoke volumes more than her words.