The sun was set by the time Kint made it home. He had been the only one to exit the Tube at the 13th District station, as Elsha and the Mayor didn't actually live there. Walking home, Kint struggled putting the facts of the day behind him. Mysteries itched at the back of his skull. No matter how much he assured himself that he'd 'solved the case', those mysteries still gnawed at him.
Kint opened the door to his mage grown home, relieved to feel a familiar warmth wash over him. While the cozy house was well heated by the central stove, the warmth he felt was deeper than that. Instead of entering through his skin, it started in his chest and expanded out, melting the heaviest of thoughts from his mind. Kint drank deep of the warmth, feeling the stress sag from his shoulders with a sigh.
Hanging up his coat, he made his way down the hall and into the sitting area. He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, loosening his tie. He was heartened to see Nessa cross legged on the floor, doing her assignments. Her dark hair hung like a curtain around her face as she stared down at the papers, pencil in hand. Kint stepped around her toward the back of the room to check on the cast iron pot sitting atop the stove. He grabbed a rag from a nearby counter and lifted the lid.
"Just boiled potatoes tonight." His daughter intoned, as Kint confirmed it with his eyes. "I've had a long day." She added.
Kint let out a chuckle, thinking of his own day. "I'm sure you did." He commented, moving to sit in his leather chair.
Comfortable in his throne, he pulled out his pipe, checking inside to realize there was still some dottle left in the bowl. He stood with a groan, tapping the ash into the wood burning stove, before nestling back into his seat.
"Papa, you got ash on the floor." His daughter complained.
The Inspector smiled to himself, "It's my floor." He replied.
"Ugh." She huffed.
Kint smiled.
Humming to himself, he reached into his other pocket in search of his tinderbox. His brow furrowed. There was an unfamiliar texture there. A small flat and smooth object pressed against the silver box. Curious, he pinched around, finally grabbing the thing and pulling it out. He brought his hand in front of him and opened it. The humming stopped. The warmth fled his body. He remembered what this object was, where it had come from. He'd found it at the crime scene... in the cupboard. In that hyper focused state, he'd passed over this item as irrelevant to his goal, but his body had stowed it instead of discarding it. This small blood flecked fingernail. A little finger to be sure, maybe even smaller than that, a little finger from a small person. To the Black Sealed Summons and the Lord's goals, this finger nail was irrelevant, but some part of him had thought it was important...
"Papa?" Nessa called, voice far away as he stared at the delicate piece of evidence in his hand. "Papa, dinner's ready." She called again.
"Hmm..." Kint shook himself, looking up at his daughter. He closed his hand. "What is it, Ness?"
She gave him an irritated eyebrow. "Dinner's ready." She said, pointing at the table where two plates of quartered potatoes were laid out.
"Ah, I'll be right there." He muttered, standing from his chair. He faced away from her, pulling the tinderbox from his pocket and dropping the evidence inside. Hoping to seal away this darkness and recapture the warmth of his home. He slipped the box back into his pocket.
Taking his place opposite his daughter, he picked up his utensils and took a bite. The food wasn't particularly flavorful, but he smiled all the same, thinking of his daughter's comment about the day she'd had. The heat of the meal slowly warmed him, starting at the back of his neck and spreading down his spine.
"Papa?" His daughter called, he looked up to meet her eyes. "I was hoping that maybe tonight we co--" She continued speaking, but her words fell on deaf ears. The moment he'd met his daughter's eyes, his thoughts chilled to darkness again.
She was so small... so fragile... The bloody fingernail popped into his mind. He tried to push the thought away, but it came in like the tide.
"Papa." She groaned, frustrated. "Are you even listening?"
"I'm sorry Nessa. It's just work." He said. The excuse was weak, the soothing smile he gave, even weaker. "What were you saying?"
She gave him a long reproachful look, "I was going to ask if you could tell me another story tonight?"
"I don't know, Nessa." He hesitated. His thoughts were still churning, trying to bind his dark curiosity. He ground his teeth. There was tenacity in her eyes that made him wary.
"Come on Dad." She pleaded, making an exaggerated gesture with her fork. "I didn't tell anyone about what you told me last night, even when I really wanted to."
Kint did not digest her pleas however, the gesture she'd made had drawn his attention to the fork... and the finger nail.
"Not tonight." He trailed off. His mind far afield.
Let it go... The thought came to him unbidden. This your place of warmth, of comfort. Leave darker things outside these walls.
Kint shook his head, trying to clear it.
The nail was so small... why was it so small? It was so out of place at the crime scene.
These thoughts are so serious... leave them outside. Home is for family.
Kint ground his teeth harder. He could feel a headache coming on.
One of the witnesses today had mentioned children... and that district was full of urchins...
Stop it. The case will be there tomorrow. Focus on what's in front of you. Tell your daughter a story and---
Kint slammed his fist down on the table. Plates and cups to rattled violently. He stared daggers at his daughter, feeling blood trickle from his nose.
Nessa looked at him, fear draining the color from her face. All the warmth in the room evaporated, a flatness, a realism descending. That look was more than fear, it was terror. Like she was staring at a monster.
Her eyes began welling with tears, dissipating much of Kint's fury, but not all. There was still a bubbling frustration roiling inside. She had been so blatant this time.
"I'm sorry Papa." She pleaded, fear was replaced with contrition as tears began to flow.
He sighed deeply, trying to regain his composure. This was not something he was ready to confront. Nor did he want to. But he would not be pushed around either. It was time to do something.
A heavy knock thumped against the door.
Thunk Thunk Thunk.
Kint looked at his daughter, her face mirroring the terror in his heart.
"Go to your room." He commanded. There was no argument this time. The girl stood quickly and made a bolt to her bedroom, closing the door behind her.
Kint stood, mind racing through possibilities. In all likelyhood, rapture stood at his doorstep. In his five years living here, the Archaedis household had never once received a visitor at this hour. He was reminded of the feeling he'd had on the Tube approaching their meeting with the Lord. The nebulous fear of being seen, being discovered.
The inspector moved with purpose toward the door, hand grasping to the handle of the Stalwart Knife with white knuckled intensity.
The knock came again, loud and heavy. He flinched at the closeness of its power.
What could it be? His past? The Black Seal? His power? Nessa...
The knocking shook the door, vibrations eminating from the heavy wood.
Had she done something? Had something happened at school?
How could he have been so careless...
Another knock shook the door. Whoever was on the other side of it, had to be massive.
Kint took a deep breath, grabbing the handle tight. Resigned, He thought he might as well have a look.
The door swung wide, revealing an enormous man with dark ebony skin. It was the towering Acolyte from Lord Crecius's office. The one who'd ushered them inside. Even in the chill of the evening air, his black and purple robes remained sleeveless.
"Good evening, Inspectah." The man smiled, the depth of his voice humming through Kint's skin.
"Acolyte." Kint nodded, "To what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked, unable to keep the tension from his voice.
"I'm sorry to intrude at this hour." The man began, "I was in the District checking on a few things for our brilliant lord, and I thought I might stop by to introduce myself properly."
Kint was caught a bit off guard by this man. He spoke with such eloquence, but his accent was thick with the casual joviality of an Asheeliman. It was a like talking to a well read factory worker in the Vorvan homeland.
"I brought a gift, if that helps?" The man entreated, breaking the silence. He reached into a fold in his robe to pull out a hearty bottle of dark liquor. The glass looked small in his massive hands.
"It's an honor." Kint started, coming back to himself. "Please come in." He said, gesturing down the hall for the man to enter.
The dark man had to duck his head moving through the door, handing the bottle to Kint as he did. The Inspector closed the door behind them, pointing toward the chairs in the living space as they entered. He couldn't help flashing a glance at his daughters door, making sure it was shut fast.
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"Please, have a seat." Kint grumbled, "I'll grab some glasses."
Kint entered the kitchen, slowly sorting through the cupboards for a suitable glass, while keeping one eye trained on his uninvited guest.
The large man moved cautiously through the crowded sitting area. He gave each chair a cursory examination before lowering himself gently into the one across from Kint's own. Even with the gentle landing, Kint could hear the strained creaking from the old wooden seat across the room.
Pulling the cork from the bottle, Kint was hit with an oaky aroma. He raised an eyebrow in appreciation, as he poured. Returning to the living area, he handed the large man a glass, before moving to sit across from him.
"So..." Kint began, lowering himself into his chair. "Am I one of these interests Lord Crecius has sent you to check on?" Kint asked.
The large man did not reply immediately, instead he brought the glass to his nose, closing his eyes to enjoy the sweet aroma Kint. Then, he took a sip.
"Ahhh." The man exclaimed. "Now that's the good stuff." He said, admiring the glass before setting his hand on the armrest.
Kint did not drink of his own glass, his stony eyes locked on the Acolyte's own. There was an obvious intelligence in them, those dark hazel eyes. It was like staring into an amber pool. There was an intensity to them. However, the Joviality that Kint had spotted earlier lived there too.
"Oh, he's definitely interested in you, Inspectah Kint. Whatevah you said, it got under his skin for sure." The large man started, a smile playing at his lips.
Kint grunted in frustration. He'd known his little outburst would cause trouble, but it was still jarring to meet that trouble in the flesh.
"You're in a bit of a bind." The large man continued, shaking his head. "There's a mystery in your past, and our Lord is not one for unexplainable things."
Kint raised the glass to his mouth, deciding that he would have that drink after all. The liquor burned down his throat. Kint had to agree with the larger man, that this was 'the good stuff'. Kint grimaced when the harsh liquid didn't make him feel any better.
The Acolyte leaned forward and laughed. There was no judgement it, just earnest, compassionate laughter. Kint didn't mind it.
"That bad eh?" The man asked. Pausing, inviting Kint to respond. "You're not gonna tell me anything are you." The man continued when Kint kept silent. That natural smile remained on his face with every word, authentic... confident.
"I've got as much politics on my plate as I can handle right now, and that's already too much." Kint grumbled.
"Fair enough." The man shrugged, the motion causing the chair to squeak under his size. He took another sip from his glass, continuing, "That's how most people do it. 'The best politics is no politics at all', they say."
Kint nodded at the familiar phrase, taking a sip from his own glass. Beginning to enjoy the warmth of the drink in his belly.
"And what about you?" Kint asked, feeling oddly comfortable in the conversation. "You don't seem like the Acolyte sort? How did you end up so close to the Lord?"
The large man raised an eyebrow, but did not refuse the question. He paused, cupping his glass in both hands, gazing at the ceiling in consternation.
"Well Inspectah, I've a past of my own. Filled with history that's probably similar to yours... I suppose I just came to different conclusions." The man said.
"And..." Kint gestured with his glass for the man to continue.
"Let's just say, I'd prefer to be the one guiding the hand, as opposed to being sucker punched in the face." The Acolyte concluded.
Kint nodded in understanding, letting the words settle in the room. "At least you'll have time to brace yourself." He quipped.
There was a long pause before the large man burst out laughing. It was a sonorous laugh, filling the whole room. Hearing it, even Kint let out a few chuckles.
"Fuck..." The Acolyte exclaimed, laughter cooling. "I like you Kint."
Kint could not understand it, but he found that he liked this man as well. It was hard not to.
"Fuck." The large man said again, this time in frustration.
Kint's smile fell as the dark skinned man's tone changed. Those dark pools of eyes looked truly uncomfortable.
"Look, I'm sorry Kint, but as you've probably guessed, I'm not here for just a laugh and a drink." The Acolyte started. "I'm here to deliver a message."
"Okay..." Kint replied. He had suspected as much, but this man's nature had put him off guard. He stiffened his chin in preparation.
"It's a bit of a story, actually." The large man continued, hesitant.
Kint took a deep breath, and then released it. His expression turned to stone once again, as he placed his glass on the table beside him. The Acolyte did the same.
"Get on with it." Kint grumbled, eyebrows knitting together in consternation.
"Are you familiar with Apostle Caligore Inkhold?" The large Acolyte asked, in a studius tone.
"Hard not to be." Kint replied, "He's got a statue in every Inkhold district."
"Right." The man nodded, solemn. "And do you know what he's known for?"
"Greatest politician since Seevert, negotiated the First Great Expansion, and ushered in the Second Age of the Noveriat." Kint recited, unsure where this was going.
The Acolyte nodded, continuing. "Would it surprise you if the Apostle had another deed... a secret one?"
"No." Kint responded flatly.
The large man gave a wan smile, and a half chuckle. "Well I won't judge when you are." The man said in an uncomfortable tone. The cool joviality from earlier almost entirely gone.
"This is a bit of open secret among the Apostles, but it's kept well hidden from the Kadenites." He prefaced, giving Kint a meaningful look before saying, "The First Great Expansion was not in fact a Nogiatiated Settlement with Ingoria, but a war. With the land being won in conquest and the genocide of the natives."
The man paused, trying to judge Kint's response. The Inspector was not overly surprised that the history the Kadenites were taught was vastly different than what had actually happened. At one time he had baught all the lies and then some, but he'd been bitten by the truth many times since.
The Acolyte continued, "Caligore is not known as a great politician for his negotiation skills, but instead for his ability to build consensus among the Apostles. Getting the Noveriat to move as one. For twenty years he enacted policy like a king, achieving one goal after the next, bringing prosperity to the nation. Toward the end of his life, he wanted more, to leave his mark on this world. To grow the Prophet's reach... A war of expansion." He paused for effect. "All of the Apostles agreed with his plan, for in agreement, they had prospered... All except one... The Sixth Apostle..."
Kint's ears perked up at the mention of the Sixth Apostle. This history was new to him, even with his advanced schooling. The Deeds of any Sixth Apostle were not well known beyond the first.
"Who was the Sixth Apostle at the time?" Kint couldn't help but ask.
"We don't know..." The Acolyte replied.
This didn't surprise Kint. Ever since Kaden Ignus, no others had been announced publicly. The history of the Sixth was very vague and was said kept only by the Church of the Prophet. Most believed it did not exist at all. Their lack of deeds in recent centuries lending credence to those theories.
"And the reason we don't know." He continued, "Is because of what is considered Apostle Caligore's greatest political feat." The Acolyte paused again, giving Kint a mournful look. "After the Sixth Apostle openly stood against Caligore in the Heladon, the Inkhold Apostle was enraged. He'd tried every trick and tactic he'd learned in his years of politics to move the man, but the Sixth would not budge. His pride shaken to the roots, Caligore took drastic action. He met secretly with the other four Apostles and devised a plan to Destroy the entire Brotherhood, and Kill the Sixth Apostle." Seeing that his words were hitting the mark, the Acolyte continued, "It is said in the histories of the Apostles, that before they invaded the Sixth Branch, the other Apostles made Caligore seek the blessing of the gods... and it was granted."
Hearing these words, the Inspectors face was a stone, but inside his emotions churned. Kint had always believed more in the existence of God's than the Brotherhood of Ignus. In just the past day, he'd seen magic enough to justify God's being real. But he'd always accepted they were on the side of the Apostles, based on him being down here and them being up there. So the news of Gods was not what shook him.. It was being told that the hope of all Kadenites had in fact existed, but was destroyed in its infancy. With the blessing of the Gods no less.
Gods... Apostles... Hope fell like ash through his fingers...
What hope did they have?
"That is why we do not know the names of the Sixth Apostles... they no longer exist." The mans words reverberated through the room with sadness. There was a solidarity to them, like he'd once felt a similar loss. "To add insult to it all, after burning down the halls of the Brotherhood, they made it an administrative wing, and where their capitol once stood, they built the Horundus. A place where the Apostle families now hold duels to solve their squables with violence." He finished, punctuating the story.
The silence grew. Both men sitting very still in the heavy air. The weight of knowledge had settled poorly on Kint's mind. His thoughts were a mix of frustration and disappointment. It was like a dream he'd kept secret even from himself, had died. This new truth was not wholly different from what he'd believed before, and yet it had crushed a small chapel of hope in his heart.
Eventually, Kint resolved that he could not morne the idea of the Brotherhood any longer. He grabbed the glass and drank it down.
"So what is this story supposed to tell me?" Kint asked, the heat of the liquor and a hint of anger burning in his chest. "What's the message?"
"I'm sorry, Inspectah." The man replied. "I truly am. I am not usually brought in to do this kind of thing, but the Lord cannot afford any fuck ups on this one."
Kint gave the man a hard look. He wasn't angry with this man, the messenger, but the message itself was irritating. He did not like being made to feel so impotent.
"I'll tell it to you as it was told to me a few years ago." The younger man sighed, "There is no good and evil in the word of the Apostles. There is only cause and effect. And if you cause and Apostle pain, the effect is always the same." The put an exclamation point on his quote, the Acolyte motioned his head behind Kint in the direction of his daughters bedroom.
"Get out." Kint said, voice devoid of emotion.
The Acolyte did not hesitate. He stood smoothly, saying "I am Sorry, Kint." As he passed.
"Out." His teeth ground, lips twitching with emotion. He sat still in his seat until he heard the door close behind him. Then he continued to sit. Mind blank. Was it anger, fear, sadness? He did not know, in the end all it came to was a dull ringing in his ears.
After several minutes, he was shaken from his stupor by the sound of muffled voice.
"Daaad..." His daughter whispered from behind her door. "Papa."
With a small sigh, Kint hoisted himself from his chair. He grabbed the two glasses from beside their respective chairs and brought them up to the kitchen counter. He thought about pouring himself another one, but decided against it. Instead moving down the hall to knock on his daughters door.
"Nessa?" He said, trying and failing to push feeling into his gravely voice. "Are you ok?"
"Yeah..." She responded, as he opened the door a crack. "Can you come in?"
Kint opened the door wide. Where last night he felt he needed the respite of sleep, tonight he felt the urge to see his daughter. No matter the arguments of before.
As before, he came to sit on the edge of her bed, and as before she'd pulled the sheets up to cover everything but her face, ready to hid at any moment. Even the idea of that made him smile. Hiding from someone who was right in front of you.
"Papa..." She began, eyes shining with emotion. "Is what that man said true?" She asked.
Kint furrowed his brow, concerned and surprised. "You heard all that?" He asked.
"No." She replied, before she changed her answer to "Parts..."
Kint sighed unsure of how to reply. "I don't know sweetie... I think he might have just been trying to scare is?"
"But he works for he Lord, right?" She replied, "So why would he want to scare us?"
"Well..." Kint started, trying once again to figure out how much to tell his very inquisitive daughter. "Sometimes when people are scared, they try to make other people scared so they do their jobs better."
Her small brow furrowed under her dark hair as she thought for a moment, "That's silly." She decided.
Kint smiled, "Yes it is." He replied. "And don't you worry, the job the Lord want's me to do, it's as easy as waking up." He tried to comfort her.
He wished so badly to know what she was thinking behind those dark blue eyes, but, much like his wife, his daughter was difficult for to read.
"Papa..." She said, locking her innocent eyes with his. "Will you protect me? If they come."
He knew where this was coming from. The moment they'd had earlier. Before the Acolyte had come. There was only one right answer.
"Ye--" In that moment, the image of his daughter smiling bright with those horrific crimson eyes ripped to the forefront of his mind. His mind open to the world, as the demon with his daughters face pulled secrets from his head.
He hesitated.
His daughter, with those innocent blue eyes, she caught the hesitation immediately. The face she made... he could not describe it... it broke him. It shattered his heart.
Betrayal.
"No-- of course." He pleaded. "Of course I'll protect you sweetheart." He tried to correct that hesitation... but the damage was done. She'd seen his struggle... and she wrapped her self in the blanked to hide from him... He reached out to grab her, to hold her, to comfort her... but couldn't. He was the one who'd done this damage... He did not know what to do, what to say... So eventually... He stood up, walked out of the room and closed the door.
From there he walked into the kitchen, and poured himself a drink... and then another... and another...
After some time, he made stumbled to his room... He did not light the candles... he did not talk to his wife... What was there to say? There could be no comfort from her. No comfort for this...
He just laid down, closed his eyes... and went to sleep... There was no warmth in the Archaedis house tonight... only the cold and the void. Nightmares would be a relief.