THE VELNIAS GRAND FAMILIES: FROM BLOODSPORTS TO ESSENCE
By Jim Harven
Velnias, our city of lights, was shaken by tragedy last night as an artificially created Essence beast was unleashed upon the Rust Walk in the city’s eastern quarter. The destruction was senseless, as casualties are still being accounted for. Thankfully, a patrol of Wardens was in the area and braved the beast, containing it before it could run rampant. In times of uncertainty, when fear spreads like wildfires, we are not defined by the calamities that befall us, but by how we rise from them. I was unsure of how we would rise from this one, so soon after Spearhead's untimely demise. Last night, the Velnias Wardens gave me an answer that I hope we will all follow in the footsteps of: together.
To honor this viewpoint, spoken many times by Spearhead Captain Atlas, The Velnias Gazette will donate all proceeds from this and any issue published over the next month to the cleanup efforts and to aid those who lost loved ones in this senseless tragedy. Our city has weathered many storms, and together, we will weather this one too.
But as we pick up the pieces, we must ask ourselves: how did this happen, and who bears responsibility? These questions weigh heavy, and while the full truth remains uncertain, one family in particular, has come under direct scrutiny – The Volkov family.
For decades, the Volkov family has been one of the five Grand Velnias Families who have worked as enforcers for the city when the police were stretched thin or riots became dangerous, but underneath this philanthropy the Volkov family appears to have developed a taste of blood which has long stained its underbelly.
This article was originally intended to discuss their strike-breaking behavior and their ownership of every steel mill in the industrial slums through various smoke-and mirror-tactics, and how their behaviors were not only hurting the ward working factory men, but also driving some of them into a life of crime. While all of these actions are worthy of criticism that would have been the extent of this article, instead I found myself first hand at Penny’s Club where the Volkov’s had an underground fighting ring where their essence beast broke loose.
I was not in the fighting pit when it happened. I was above, in the club proper, when the ground trembled, and men surged upstairs in terror. Among them was Callum Hollow, a university student in his second year of mathematics, who barely escaped with his life. We caught each other while running from the chaos, breathless and bloodied, but clearly disturbed by what he had seen. Once we reached a safer location he confided in me that “it wasn’t a man anymore. It was something else. He lost the fight and then changed.”
According to Callum what was previously an ordinary brawl had gone sour when the Volkov’s prized fighter, one Pavel Cross, lost – and, in a fit of anger sought to kill his opponent at all costs. Once again, we see the truth of Essence. It does not corrupt the body first, but the mind. Pavel Cross, previously an upstanding citizen, resorted to twisting himself into a monster, deciding a loss was worse than death. The mind twists before the body follows.
It is apparently an open secret that many of the Volkov enforcer captains and important ranking members are Harbingers, individuals with essence, but yet again we see why the presence of essence must be limited to The Wardens and The Churches as unsuited individuals may gain access to the substance who are wholly unprepared for the consequences that come with it, making it dangerous for everyone.
This article is an open letter to The Wardens, The Churches, and the other Velnias Grand Families. We urge you. Do not let this stand.
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The newspaper crinkled in Bellamy's grip as he re-read its contents for the third time that morning – committing every detail he could to memory. The whole thing reeked of a plot with its many falsehoods and veiled truths.
After looking into the author, Bellamy had found them to be an older gentleman from Coutama. Specifically, a veteran of The War of Blood Veins, in which The Eternal Family had attempted to cut out a portion of land for themselves with the help of The King of The Dead City. Everyone who fought in that war either lost their minds or found an outlet for their newfound hatred for undead in The Congregation – though Bellamy saw little distinction between the two.
Bellamy was staring at a puzzle, and as much as he racked his brain for how all the pieces fit, he couldn't separate coincidence from planning.
Jim Harven arrives in Velnias at the same time as The Congregation. Viracio hires the man to write a story on the steel mill and the Volkov family. That same night, part of Viracio's mismanaged gang decides to move against the Deaureaxs and Volkovs at Penny's where they somehow knew Pavel would turn into The Jackal. Jim claims he was at Penny's when The Jackal rampaged but made no mention of Viracio's gang starting a shootout, which the man would've surely seen if he were there.
Were Jim and Viracio part of The Congregation, or was Viracio just feeding Jim information on what to write, and they both had their own goals disconnected from the church? And why include Callum specifically in the article if not to get his attention?
His brother hadn't been home for the three days since that night. He hadn't been to school in those three days, and none of Callum's friends had heard anything.
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He could've gotten his answers by storming The Last Dance or this new Velnias Gazette, but The Last Dance hadn't opened since that night, and The Velnias Gazette didn't have an official headquarters. They didn't even print through a single company, paying some truly exorbitant fees for a rush job on prints.
Frustration mounting, Bellamy balled the newspaper up and chucked it at a nearby wall.
It didn't matter. None of it did. Bellamy had leads. He had resources. As long as he found his brother, no one else's plans mattered.
Which is why he was heading to meet Kye. The day after his fight with The Jackal, he called the butcher from a pay phone and told her what he found and how Viracio was likely connected.
He had intended for that to be the last time he talked to her until The Congregation left town, but she had other ideas, and those other ideas involved her helping him track down Callum.
An opportunity that he jumped at immediately as he navigated the streets of Velnias.
He dipped into an alleyway as icy sheets of rain fell. The streets were practically empty, with only a couple people walking to and fro. Policemen were out in force, patrolling the area heavily for any signs of suspicious activity. For the first time since moving to Velnias, it seemed as if the city of lights truly dimmed as fear ratcheted higher and higher.
The warehouse – the location for their meeting point – wasn't far now. Bellamy followed the directions he was given until he ended up at a dead end, an alleyway that randomly ended into a brick wall. Even though his eyes saw space, and his hands felt the resistant pressure as he pushed against it, he knew it wasn't actually there. Closing his eyes, he took a few random steps and half-turns before striding through the wall.
A perception trick. If you didn't know when you passed the threshold, your brain couldn't trick you into stopping.
He opened his eyes only once he was sure he was through the barrier and was met face-to-face with a small warehouse in the center of a series of buildings. It was made of well-kept sheet metal, with no windows. It sat eerily quiet in a space it should not exist.
Wary of exposing any part of himself to danger, Bellamy chose to pull at the Essence in his core instead. Everyone perceived their Essence differently – some as elements like water, others as abstract or concepts like a wall. It was a subjective and unique interpretation for everyone; for Bellamy, he felt it like a scaffolding reaching high into the sky. Like the workers who had originally built it had gotten tired of waiting for the rest of the construction crew and decided to keep building up longer after they needed to. It swayed aggressively, creaking and groaning, but never broke.
He pulled at that scaffolding, bending it impossibly further with each extra foot of warped space.
A step, and he was in front of one of the side doorways. A window separated him from the warehouse's internals. He stepped again and found himself inside.
The space smelled of damp wood and chemicals. The air was thick with the remnants of old shipments, whose only proof was their lingering smell. The lights buzzed so softly as to be considered part of the silence. A spotlight hung from the ceiling, illuminating four seats in a circle, a coffee table in their center.
Voices came from a backroom, but before Bellamy could investigate, he became aware of another presence that wasn't there before. He turned to match gazes with a shorter man in dark garb. The man was a half head shorter than Bellamy, 5'9" if he had to guess, or at least they would've been if his head was not wreathed in shadow like whips of flame. The shadows licked and curled, leeching light from the air rather than shedding it. Two glowing blue slits – eyes, or at least something like them – stared back. Then a nod.
The second most distinct thing about the man was his voice, it sounded far away and tiny, as if he was speaking through a radio rather than the space between the two. "I am not an enemy."
As far as introductions went, Bellamy appreciated that one.
He gave a nod back, "My name is Bellamy."
"Johan. I was supposed to keep a look out for you. You were fast. Or I was slow. I am unclear on the specifics. We have," they paused, and their voice seemed to fast forward through the next few syllables as if the sound was catching up to itself. "Similar abilities, I believe. "
Bellamy raised an eyebrow -- usually, people weren't so forthcoming about their manifestations. He glanced towards where the voices were still talking before gesturing to the two seats.
"Might as well talk a little before Kye joins us."
"That would be a pleasure. Hollow." the shade opened a rift, one end in front of itself and the other by the chair as the man crawled through into a sitting position.
Walking over and taking a seat, Bellamy began their conversation, "Wild guess, but you're one of Kye's men. She call you out here once things heated up a little?"
The shade shook their head, "No."
There was no silence with the creature -- even in the empty space of conversation, the sound of a radio calibrating could be heard.
"A request was made by the Veythar." it continued, "My master accepted."
Bellamy tried to keep his movements natural. Tried to show no sign of how bone-chilling the man spoke such terrifying words. The Veythar were leaders of sects for the Cult of Bone: The Eternal Family. And the words the shade chose. Requested. Not demanded or forced.
The Veythar didn't make requests. Not unless they were speaking to something far worse. Bellamy fought the urge to vanish that instant, even as his mind, muscles, and Essence screamed for him to teleport away.
"Must be nervous," Bellamy tried instead, forcing calm through his veins by cycling Essence. "How did Kye get them to do that? Didn't think she had the pull."
"The Butcher?" the shade offered, glancing to the back room. "No. She does not. Tasked –" the radio burst into static before calming down "vibrations. She let them travel back, and the Veythar took interest. The Essence Beast. You believe it was stable?"
Bellamy nodded in turn, "No signs of Essence leakage. I don't know how Titans form. But could it have been one?"
"Based on the reports. Unlikely. The corpse remained intact. No core.
"The reports?"
"I was able to get access to Warden reports from that night. They used to be vigilant."
There was little time to process the information before Kye and another woman stepped out of the back room with paper binders in both hands. The woman besides Kye had long brown hair, lily-white skin with sharp Coutaman features, and a curious expression that flittered between the Shade and Bellamy.
"Johan," she spoke, voice even and of a lower pitch than Bellamy expected, "I see you've made a new friend."
The shade, Johan, let out a string of static that sounded like a chuckle, "Ah. You with the jokes. Always present."
Kye interjected, placing the binders of paper on the coffee table, "Bellamy this is Cassandra and Johan. They are both on loan."
"Did The Eternal Family not have anyone in the area?" Bellamy didn't hide the surprise that crept into his voice. One loaner could be explained away, but two didn't make sense.
Kye's face twisted into a scowl. "Even with the information you gave. No Veythar wished to risk their children with The Congregation of Purity in town."
As far as Bellamy knew, each Veythar was a head of a sect. They acted as the presiding leader, their name a translation from an old tongue before Kumere rose 1920 years ago that literally meant eternal guide. They acted as the shepherds, referring to anyone in their flock as their children.
Kye glanced from Cassandra to Johan and then back to Kye. Alright, so you brought us here for a reason. Let's hear it."
Kye nodded, pulling out a map of Velnias as she began spreading out correspondences and pictures.
"Thanks to your information we are aware that Viracio and his gang are involved in the creation of Essence beasts, but we don't know how. All known partners of his have gone into hiding, but before they did we were able to get word of one of their members' habits. There's a place he goes every Friday night without fail. If you three can nab him there, we may be able to get some information out of him."
Alright kidnapping. Bellamy didn't hate the plan.
"Where?" Johan tilted their head, gesturing to the map.
Kye smiled, tapping on Mainstreet, "The Grand Proscenium. You ay friends, are going to see an Opera."