2
Questions immediately formed in Lynn’s mind. They were each handed a scroll marking their new acceptance and containing a detailed description of the departure before being moved off the stage. As they were stepping off he caught a smug grin on Vivian’s face before she walked over to Harrison Ivory and embraced him in a hug. When they finished embracing the older man began speaking to her with a harder look on his face, his white mustache twitching with every word. Lynn couldn’t hear the words spoken but he watched as Vivian’s smile faded into a look of dutiful sternness.
Quickly, Lynn’s thoughts went to Lord Ivory to better theorize a connection with Vivian. Harrison Ivory happened to be one of the most influential nobles in Neo Regnum. He took control of his house at the early age of twenty and had governed it for the last three decades. Despite his young age at the time, Ivory not only stabilized his house, he actually managed to elevate its status and had consumed several other lesser houses in the process of less than a decade. Rumors circulated that he never lost a duel and that he never went anywhere without his rapier strapped to his hip. He was also said to be academically brilliant, one of the keenest minds of the century. More modernly, if his age was slowing him down, his looks certainly showed no signs. Woman still swooned when he walked past but he never gave them a second glance, appearing to still be smitten with his wife.
Lynn doubted Vivian was any sort of lover, otherwise Ivory wouldn’t send her away, but she couldn’t be a daughter either, public knowledge decreed that his wife was either unwilling or unable to conceive children. A bastard? No, not only would she lack a surname if so, Ivory would never risk losing face by bringing her to a court event, let alone bring her into the spotlight by allowing her to apply to study at Silvian Island.
Lynn approached her. Better to directly confront her with questions than to theorize. He would have to spend at least a year alongside this girl and understanding Vivian might become vital in the near future.
“Congratulations Vivian...Topaz. It would seem that you have won our little bet.”
Vivian turned toward him after he spoke. He saw a new expression in her eyes, not one of worry when he first encountered her, nor the one of excitement when she had mentioned a bet, not even the one of irritation from when they last spoke. Only pity. Lynn’s insides twisted. Blood pumped in his ears and his phantom hand twitched as she curtsied before him with her head bowed.
“Lord Jet. I humbly apologize for earlier. I wasn’t clearly aware of your status. Please excuse my inappropriate behavior from before. I meant no insult to you or your house. I still am incredibly ignorant to many of the faces and names in the court. Naturally, any silly promises you made me no longer need to be fulfilled. Is there anything I can do for you?”
Lay down and let the Silts consume you. “No. That will be all.” He turned and stalked away stiffly, his right hand clenched into a fist and his missing left longing to do the same.
He made his way to the bar and ordered another wine. Maybe there was some merit in alcoholism after all. He reached into his inner pocket and pulled out his copy of Vester’s Collection. He skimmed through the many pages until he came to one with a dog eared corner. A page that would normally be left blank but that young Lynn had taken advantage of it long ago to scrawl his own message in childish handwriting. Not the most poetic of his pieces. Really more of a dark juvenile rant than anything half related to the art Vester once wrote. But it remained a reminder of the time when he wrote it out in a passion that had faded every year since.
The ball began to come to a close as Lord Opal announced the last dance. Lynn glanced at the crowd and duly noted that he was the only guest not on the floor. He swallowed the rest of his drink, stood up, and hobbled away to find somewhere less populated.
Lynn had just found a dark hallway corner to slump down into when he first heard the screaming. Terrible screams harmonizing among men and women, noble and servant, the ones in pain and those afraid of it. He shot up so fast that he had to grab the wall to keep himself from spilling back onto the floor. Pushing off the wall, he lurched forward toward the ballroom. As a one legged cripple, running wasn’t his forte but he managed to lunge himself forward cursing himself for foolishly leaving his cane at home.
It took longer than he would have liked but he reached the entrance. Locked from the inside naturally. The court couldn’t allow the risk of an uncouth servant or common villager to slip in and the guard who usually held the key to open it was nowhere to be found. Lynn threw his weight into the door, hoping frantically to burst it open with his weight. However, his only result was ending sprawled across the ground, jolts of pain echoing from his stump of a left arm. He lay there for a moment, gathering the strength to stand once again. The screaming continued. The door burst open from inside the ballroom.
Nobles flooded out like a burst dam, several of them tripping on his pathetic body that lay in their path. One unlucky blow took him in the nose, resulting in blood streaming across his face and his vision to narrow to a slit. Using his right hand, he attempted to grab a hold of the now ajar entrance. His efforts were in vain though, the door now open wide enough to be out of arm’s reach. He shifted his arm’s position to cover his face as his body curled into an awkward ball. Fleeing feet continued to stumble over his crumpled form, the owners of said feet oblivious to the pain each step caused.
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Once the nobles finished vacating, he painfully lifted himself back to his foot. His vision remained hazy as it still reeled from the blows to his temple. But, still, he managed to stumble into the ballroom. Glass from the above skylight lay scattered on the ground, allowing a dank drizzle to enter the room from the outside night air. The fresh night air’s scent mingled with a crisp reek.
Only a few figures still remained in the broken ballroom. And four of them lay unmoving on the ground. He immediately recognized the two nearest to him by their uniforms as guards. Knives now jutted out from their once marginally handsome faces a pool of blood staining the once pristine uniforms the guards Lord Opal kept. Another of the downed figures was the Lord Opal himself, the man in charge of directing the ball. The owner of the lavish mansion he currently stood in. His head stuck out in an unnatural angle from the rest of his body, his neck cleanly snapped. The forth collapsed figure clothed in black.
As he approached, the stench of burned meat strengthened, overpowering any other scents. Lynn realized that the person wasn’t clothed in a black cloak, as he had first assumed, but rather an outfit which had been charred black along with his body. The figure still sizzled and popped quietly as the heat of the corpse met with the cold wet air. Lynn felt a momentarily jolt of ecstasy at the sight of the dead man as he approached but almost immediately realized, even burnt, the man’s hair still retained an auburn tint. Not the platinum blond he sought. Disappointment quickly replaced the moment of excitement.
In front of the man’s body cooking on the floor, sat a woman in a silver dress weeping into her hands.
Theories and thoughts clicked into place in Lynn’s head like the gears in a clock. Vivian was a Natural. The girl could already control the abilities of a full-fledged Mystic. She hadn’t seemed like a noble when he met her simply because she had only just been elevated to one recently. She must have been a peasant in Lord Ivory’s dominion before he discovered her and brought her here. Rumor stated that any Natural found automatically had his or her stature lifted nobility, thus explaining her unique noble name that had never been heard before. She had been given the new surname Topaz after being discovered. After all, who had ever heard of a peasant or serf with control over one of the Mystic abilities? Also, all Naturals are not only guaranteed acceptance to Silvian Island, but they were required by the laws of Neo Regnum to attend. She never even had to apply to be accepted. The concept hadn’t even occurred to him earlier when attempting to figure out Vivian, the last time a Natural had been found had been almost seventy years ago. His questions about the mysterious Vivian Topaz began vanishing as answers presented themselves in his mind one after another.
The ball’s chaos was an entire different study. An assassin had most likely been sent here tonight as a power maneuver. The broken skylight most likely the result of the assassin descending from above to kill Lord Opal. If the head of the Opal family was dispatched at his own function with the entire court as witness, not only rid the court of a political rival, but also made a statement against the entire house. No one would wish to be associated with its successor, not when doing so could result in their own gruesome public death. However, after achieving his objective the assassin must have encountered Vivian who unleashed her abilities on him, letting fire consume him. A Fire Mystic, of all things.
Lynn considered approaching Vivian and attempting to comfort her but he decided against the idea. His social talents lay outside the realm of comforting. Besides, she already had Lord Ivory by her side soothing her. Instead, he hobbled over and awkwardly knelt next to the corpse.
The body must have been so spontaneously hot as to have skin boiled off the assassin’s bones melt into the marble tiles.
Lynn licked his cracked lips. The metallic taste of blood tainted his mouth. His beard was caked in already solidifying blood from his nose. This girl in front of him was able to take down a trained assassin without a scratch while he got thrashed while attempting to open a door. Pathetic.
“Boy, I would like to speak with you.” Lord Ivory towered over him. He offered a hand which Lynn took. The man assisted Lynn to his foot and helped him over to the edge of the ballroom.
“What would you like to speak about?”
The lord gave a tranquilizing smile, as if to soothe any worries. “I simply am curious as to why you are here.”
Lynn cocked his head. “I should think that obvious. I heard screaming and so I came. It’s what half-decent people do.”
“I’m asking the broader question.”
Lynn’s heart frosted, hatred leaked out of his eye as he glared at the man. “I will become a Mystic and this ball is simply a stepping stone on the way.”
If Lord Ivory noticed Lynn’s tone shift, he showed no indication of caring. “You can’t possibly believe that you’ll be one of those chosen to remain once you make it to the island. Only half of the applicants, a maximum of six of the original twelve people, sent to the island are actually permitted to study in the library to become a Mystic. You’re a cripple. A detriment to everyone attempting acceptance to the knowledge. Why would you waste a spot for another, far more likely, candidate? Does your spite take you so far? Or perhaps you are delusional about your circumstances? You were not even in the room with the assassins and somehow you managed to become more hurt than anyone in the ballroom save the dead. Are you set on receiving vengeance for your family? So much that you’re willing to hurt others pursuing knowledge? I can see your vengeance drew you out of your drunken stupor in the hall to attempt to see if the yelling related to your personal grudges but see that you don’t let it cause you to overreach.”
Lynn gave him a grin. Pain flared from his nose. “I am not going to pull out, Ivory. My reasons are my own and I see no reason to explain them to you. Now, if you would please excuse me. I need to prepare for my trip across the damned silt covered ocean.” Lynn proceeded to do his best to saunter out of the room.
Lord Ivory followed him. “Stay away from Vivian boy,” the man hissed, defensively grabbing the hilt of his rapier. “She is destined for greatness, you’re destined to continue to live as a parasite. She has a heart that only strives for goodness whereas you’re driven by petty greed.” With that, the man’s cape whipped Lynn’s ankle as he turned and slipped back to the girl. Oblivious to the world around her, Vivian had spent the conversation staring blankly at the charred corpse before her and seemingly welcomed the arm Lord Ivory wrapped around her once again.
Petty greed? Lynn supposed that the statement rang true enough; however, he felt none of guilt from the conversation that he assumed Lord Ivory had intended. The only reason people get out of bed in the morning was due to greed. Whether for better or worse, everyone wanted something they didn’t have and only greed caused them to go out and get it. He very much doubted Vivian Topaz was motivated by any less greed than anyone else, himself included.