Lucius

“Another one!” The robed man slammed his fists against the solid wood desk again and again. The gold pin on his chest flickered in the dim light as it bounced up and down. “Useless. All of you are f*cking useless!”

The three other robed figures kept their heads lowered and remained silent. No one wanted to become the next target of his anger. The slimmest figure flinched each time the table creaked and rattled in protest from the beat down. Even she knew not to push her luck during this time.

Nobody moved from their knelt position, their bodies taut with tension that only increased when the sound finally stopped.

The leading figure’s body shook as he covered his face with his palms. His broad shoulders jerked up and down as a low, guttural sound fought its way up his throat and burst out of his mouth, “Ahahahahahahaha…”

“You’re embarrassing yourself, Lucius.” A melodic voice interrupted the laughing man. A woman made her way out of the shadows and glided across the room. She ignored the bloodshot green eyes that locked onto her figure as soon as she appeared. Instead, she dismissed the rest of the cloaked members from the room with a slight wave of her hand.

“Are you here to laugh at my failure as well?” Lucius asked as the door closed behind the last member. He leaned back in his chair and tilted his head back, but he kept his hooded eyes trained on her as she settled down on the desk in front of him.

His sudden calmness made her pause before her shoulders relaxed as she sighed. Her heterochromatic eyes narrowed slightly as she said, “And here I thought you’ve finally lost it. I’ve heard what happened. What are you planning to do next?”

He snorted. “What else can I do? If I want something done the right way, I can only do it myself.”

“Are you sure?”

Lucius leaned closer to the woman and breathed in deeply, enjoying the way her pupils dilated despite her act of nonchalance. With a lazy smile on his face, he asked, “What? Are you volunteering yourself?”

-

Donovan

I’m alive.

Donovan raised his hand and slapped himself across the cheek. It hurts. I’m not dreaming.

Donovan touched the cover of the tome. Leathery. It had been a much easier retrieval than he anticipated. His fingers toyed with the edges of the gift from that Being before his other hand slapped down on the curious digits. No, this was not for him.

He took a sip from his now cold tea. The dark liquid spilled from the trembling cup and splattered onto the table. His mind buzzed with noise, but he struggled to form a single coherent train of thought. He cleared his throat.

“My Lord…” the once familiar words shunned him, yet he refused to face the truth. “...provide your…open my eyes…clear…”

My faith…

The icy hands of rejection unlocked and fanned the growing fears in his mind. They closed around his throat, strangling the air out of his lungs. He was that little boy again, his feet numb as he trudged through the snow.

Donovan shook his head, breathing deeply in through his nose and out his mouth. When he raised his head, his eyes had regained their usual clarity, his mouth meticulously curved into a pleasant smile.

The bakery was surprisingly busy for its location, but it hadn’t taken him long to notice the absence. “Excuse me, Miss.” He lightly tapped the arm of a passing server. “Do you know what happened to the boy who used to work here?”

“Oh, are you asking about David? He quit a while back to go work for his family. Would you like another cup of tea?”

Donovan nodded his thanks and finished the rest of his order, not letting a single drop go to waste. Perhaps it was for the better if the boy had distanced himself from the situation. The organization is like shark-infested waters for low-level members like him with a high casualty rate. Donovan saw a familiar innocence in him and had done his best to preserve it, but it was now in the hands of fate.

Stepping outside, the chilly air assaulted his lungs and cleared his mind for a few passing seconds. He was in the moment, and nothing mattered. Reopening his eyes, his gaze locked onto a small building with a mundane appearance further down the street.

Bookstore…

He had seen the reports in passing, but he regretted his lack of interest back when he had access. However, he seriously doubted they had much information. Beings at the bookstore owner’s level aren’t easy to investigate. Whatever pitiful amount of information obtained were crumbs fed to them by the giant when he was bored and sought some temporary amusement.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

It didn’t take long for him to reach the glass windows. A black-haired young man sat behind the front counter, head lowered, eyes locked on to the book before him. A black cat wandered between the bookstore owner and the book, breaking his focus. He smiled as he stroked the attention-seeking feline.

That cat…Donovan’s brows furrowed in contemplation before he brushed the thoughts aside. He pushed open the vintage door, triggering the bells attached.

The young man’s eyes sparkled in the dim lighting as they landed on him. Had he been expecting him? Donovan scoffed at his precautionary fears. How egotistical of him to think an omniscient being would even need to go to such lengths to harm him.

He returned the storekeeper’s smile and greeted him. “Hello.”

-

Allen

“Midnight, don’t you ever become bored of the store? Why not follow me out more often?” Allen booped the cat’s nose. “Oh how nice it would be to be like a cat, staring at nothing all day without experiencing an ounce of boredom.”

Allen flipped a page back in the book he was reading, an action he recently found himself doing more and more. Sometimes his eyes read at his normal speed, but his brain struggled to focus. This time, his mind wandered towards his newest discovery, the phone.

He sighed. Another disappointment. The phone didn’t contain anything besides the ability to receive calls. He didn’t know what else he was expecting, but a part of him knew there should have been something more. But what? He didn’t know and it frustrated him to no end.

He sighed once more, flipping the cover closed with more force than necessary. The dull thump was loud in the quiet store. Allen glanced up at the only customer in the store, glad he didn’t appear disturbed by his frustration.

Allen picked up his trusty pen, absentmindedly twirling it a few times before setting it back down. He had transcribed his recent progress to a new sheet of paper devoid of coffee stains but struggled to continue the scene. The inspiration ran almost as dry as his pockets.

Speaking of which, Allen grabbed the letter he found in front of the door this morning. The letter thanked him for contributing to society as a small business owner and contained an invitation to an event. A free stall to promote my products to a broader audience…

It sounded interesting. It appears reading was not a popular pastime here. Perhaps he could make it one of his missions to promote reading to the younger generation. He’d never experienced having a mission or goal to fight for before. It lit something deep within him, an eagerness that peeked through the numbness of boredom.

Having made up his mind, his eyes searched for Midnight. The feline had wandered towards the bookshelves and made herself comfortable in one of the small gaps between the books. Her eyes blinked slowly at the man not too far from her.

The brunette man was not short, not tall, not fat, not thin, not young, and not old. His features belonged to the type that easily blended into a crowd; however, the way he held himself was the exact opposite. The man was dressed quite nicely compared to the average working man, but even if he was dressed in rags, it wouldn’t be able to hide his natural aura.

The man had not moved from his position for a while. Allen instantly noted the way he seemed to be staring past the book in his hands. It appears he wasn’t the only one feeling distracted lately. He wasn’t usually the type to interrupt another’s reading time, but he felt a connection to this person and it wasn’t like they were complete strangers.

He tapped the man on the shoulders and asked, “Are you alright, Mr. Donovan? We’d recently installed a couple of seats if you would like to enjoy your reading more comfortably.”

The man flinched at the contact before shooting Allen a grateful look. He replied, “Thank you very much, Mr. Allen. I should probably go soon, but I would like to purchase this book.”

Allen was a little surprised by the intense gratitude but took it as the man being the overly polite type. He smiled and said, “No problem. It’s my duty to help the customer in the bookstore.” His smile only increased as he felt the weight of the coins in the palm of his hands. In a good mood, he gave the man a friendly reminder.

“Mr. Donovan, I understand the stress of running a business, but one needs to remember to pay attention to one’s body. Don’t forget your most important responsibility to yourself, others can always wait.”

The customer took the book from him and stood for a few moments in silence before his eyes lit up. “Indeed. Thank you for the reminder. I will take it to heart.”

Allen closed his eyes as the chilly wind blew in through the open door. Refreshing. He liked the cold because it gave his mind unprecedented clarity.

/Meow./

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Allen stroked the soft fur of the cat before picking up his pen with a newfound determination.

The chilly breeze promised winter was just around the corner…

-

Donovan

He barely felt the cold as he moved down the street. Left foot. Right foot. Left foot again. A battle raged in his mind, neither side willing to back down despite the outcome being already set in stone. Like puppets on strings, without their own will.

There was a surprising amount of people on the streets, ignorant of the trouble brewing in the shadows. There was something addicting about their carefree innocence. Families with their worn-out clothes, fraying in many places, smiled and laughed as they strolled down the street, finding enjoyment in the presence of their loved ones.

Donovan stood out in his casual suit and long men’s coat. Acting as if he didn’t feel the eyes that lingered, he settled down onto a bench not too far from the bookstore. He pulled out the daily newspaper from inside his coat. It didn’t take long before he felt the gazes disappear.

He is the perfect portrayal of the average man with a faint connection to high society whether it be through his work or a distant relative, not exactly a rare specimen these days. He turned the page for his newspaper as a pair of tattered leather shoes exited his peripheral vision followed by the sound of children’s laughter, laughter that rang too brightly and too perfectly with few variations.

‘They’ hadn’t recognized him. Donovan’s knuckle brushed lightly against his cheek, smooth like thin porcelain, a stark contrast to its physical appearance. Yet, He recognized him at first glance and welcomed him in with no prejudice. Donovan patted his pocket, the corner of the book pressed back against his hand.

He remembered the look on His face as he told him to focus on himself, both a warning and a reminder. Donovan tilted the paper forward and glanced at the family of four that was standing in front of the bookstore. He carefully folded his paper and rose from his bench as ‘they’ opened the door.

He turned and left without looking back.