-Chapter II: A Delicate Appraisal-
Flynn Rathbone
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She sat across from me. Kneading; twitching; searching. Her eyes bounced around, purposely avoiding mine, but her body was rigid, back straight against the chair. Blood pooled in the palm of her left hand. The metallic scent lingered in the space between us, beckoning the hungry. I had a sudden urge to run my tongue across my top teeth, but I resisted it. Just.
Her gaze and mine eventually met, stopping whatever thoughts rolled around in that head of hers. She was small, barely over five feet, and pretty in a plain and inoffensive way. Her make-up was expertly applied and the corset cinched her waist, giving her the hourglass figure she needed to have a fighting chance in this place. Otherwise, she didn’t belong. There were a few girls like that here. She, more than others. And yet, her strikingly beautiful eyes were in stark contrast to her unremarkable features; the left was blue, and the right was brown. An uncommon trait among Humans; common as muck among Diabellas, though.
I searched her, analysing what I could at a surface level glance. She flinched, clearly uncomfortable with my scrutiny, and looked away, tucking her hair behind her ears. The scars encircling the shell of her ears hinted at cropping, a practice not associated with Humans but quite common among the Diabellas. They could have easily docked her tail and disbudded her horns, particularly if she had been bought during the Monster Mania; her age seemed to align with that period. It was a pity. The only vestige of her true heritage that remained was the striking duality of her eyes.
“Tha-thank you,” she suddenly said, eyes still averted.
I tilted my head, but never spoke.
“For sto-stopping Lord Chamberlain.” She touched her jaw, her fingertips tracing the spot where his grip had been.
“Don’t mistake my actions as kindness. I thought you were one of my master’s girls. Had I known you were not, I would’ve been less inclined to interfere,” I said, outstretching my hand to her.
She looked at me, uncertain how to react.
“Your hand. You’re bleeding.” I gestured again for her to give me her hand. “It reeks, and unless you want a nasty infection, I suggest you give it here.”
She did as I asked, placing her tiny hand in mine. Carefully, I pulled out the pieces of glass. She winced, but never made a sound. When my gloves proved to be too much of a hindrance, I removed them. She gasped at the sight of my uncovered hand, with its blackened purple colour and long, claw-like nails that made the delicate process of removing the shards seem effortless.
“You’re not Human?” she asked, mouth hanging slightly agape.
I glanced between her and the wound, my response tinged with a hint of sarcasm. “What was your first clue? Was it my long, blade-shaped ears? Or perhaps my hand adorned with these charming claws?” I extended my clawed hand for emphasis. “Or maybe it was the mask that obscures my, ahem, monstrous visage?”
My words seemed to have unsettled her, her gaze once again averted, her lips pressed into a firm line. Nevertheless, I carried on with the task at hand, extracting the remaining shards. Preparedness was key in my line of work, so I always carried an assortment of supplies, including bandages, antiseptic, and sutures. You never knew what His Highness might demand, and it was better to be over-prepared than caught unawares.
With the last shard removed, I carefully wrapped her hand in a clean bandage, securing it in place to prevent infection.
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Fayth raised the curtain, an innocent smile on her face. Beside her appeared my elusive friend, Sebastian Archer. As our eyes met, his soft and jovial features dissipated, replaced by wide eyes and a trembling lip. He hesitated and stepped back, as if contemplating a retreat, but I gestured to the chair, inviting him to sit. With my arm around Ophelia’s shoulder, I leant back and folded my legs.
“Greetings, Sebastian,” I said. “How’s the wrist?”
Fayth noted the change in Sebastian’s demeanour, her smile fading. “Is everything okay, m’lord?”
Sebastian cleared his throat. “Yes, yes. Of course. Just unexpected company,” he said, taking his seat as far from me as possible. “Could I have a Blue Whistle, easy on the ice?”
“No,” I interjected. “No drinks until you and I have a little chat.”
Fayth’s eyes shot between me and Sebastian, her hand tightening around the curtain. He nodded and waved her off. She gave us a small curtsy, then left us to do our business.
Sebastian licked his dry lips. He fidgeted with his tie, looping it around his fingers. Apprehension was written across his face, especially in the way his brown eyes danced around mine, refusing to meet my gaze.
“So, Sebastian,” I began, my voice causing him to jolt and our eyes to meet. “You weren’t at your workplace. I seem to remember us having a meeting scheduled, did we not?”
He choked down the lump in his throat. “Uh, yes, it seems I must’ve forgotten to put it in my diary. I’ve, eh, been busy lately.”
I could feel my face flush with anger as he lied, but I knew I wouldn’t gain anything by outing him. “An oversight then, it seems,” I said. “You work too hard. You should rest more, let that wrist of yours heal. Aggravating it would be bad for business.”
He nodded, his voice a touch unsteady. “Yes, yes, a mere oversight. Must’ve slipped my mind is all,” he tried to laugh, but his throat was too dry. “So, eh, yo-you were sent on an errand by His Highness? How can I help?”
“You are his personal Crystalline Appraiser, are you not?”
“Well, yes.”
“Including… off the book appraisals?” I asked, my eyes narrowing.
Sebastian’s eyes flickered to Ophelia and then back to me.
“Pay her no heed,” I assured. “She's playing chess with checkers moves; it's cute, really.”
She looked at me from under her lashes, right hand tightening over the fingers of her left hand. I stroked her arm with my fingers, her muscles tensing.
“Play along–” I pushed my voice into her mind, “–and I’ll give you a 5,000 Bijoux tip.”
There was a slight quiver and a moment of hesitation, but she then giggled and perched herself on my knee, hand on my chest and fingers playing with the tassels of my scarf. Oh, money; everyone has a price.
Sebastian bit his bottom lip. “I am?” It sounded like a question. His eyes were glued to Ophelia. She teased out a strand of my silvery blue hair, coiling it around her finger playfully. Sebastian let out a long sigh. “Yes, I am,” he repeated, this time with more affirmation.
“Good,” I said, and shifted in my seat, arm around Ophelia’s waist.
With my hand in front of me, I beckoned the ribbons of Magicka in the Aether, weaving together a spell. The ribbons snaked between my fingers, tracing the invisible symbol I drew in the air, stitching themselves into the fabric of reality. The air around the spell grew hot, the Magicka taking effect, and then grew cold as the ribbons unravelled.
I expected my Eternal - ALTHENYA - to call to me, but today SHE was silent, merely watching.
In my hand appeared a silver necklace, an heirloom-quality crystal wrapped in iron wire shaped like leaves. The purple and blue colours divided and encircled one another within the crystal, so slowly one could be forgiven for believing it to be a mere pattern on the glass.
Sebastian took the necklace and examined it. His eyes focused on things that meant nought to me. He tried to open the iron wire that contained the crystal, to no avail, and then searched for a clasp. Like myself, he found none.
“It’s pretty. Somewhat plain, but I can appreciate the delicacy of the craftsmanship. However, there’s nothing remarkable about it. Why does His Highness wish for me to appraise this, especially off the books?” he asked, leaning back and opening a packet of cigarettes.
I gave him the only answer I knew; a shrug. “It is not my place to question His Highness or his motives. All I know is that he wishes for it to be appraised, and for any Magicka within the crystal to be unlocked.” I knew better than to question his Highness, my scarred flesh a testament to the price of curiosity.
Sebastian eyed over the necklace again. “If there is any Magicka inside this thing, it’s negligible.”
“At a cursory glance, perhaps. Hence why he wishes it to be appraised.”
“There may not be much to unlock.”
“A chance he is willing to take.” He insisted on it.
Sebastian took a long drag of his cigarette. His eyes focused on something in the mind’s eyes, the chain sliding between his fingers. “Can’t this wait until Aerasday? It’s Astrapiday evening, and it’s been a rather rough week for me.”
A half-smile rode up on my lips. “You expect His Highness to wait over the weekend because you’ve had a rough week?” The singular laugh punctuated my disbelief. “Get to work, otherwise come Aerasday they’ll be searching for your replacement and your body.”
More inane questions, and this time I’d break more than his wrist.
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“I can’t concentrate,” Sebastian said, exasperated.
A lord in the booth beside us popped a bottle of champagne. Apparently, he had received a promotion and a hefty bonus, so he was celebrating. Six girls were tending to his every need. Giggling; squealing; screeching. One of them stood on the table and undid her corset - I could see why he couldn’t concentrate; even my own eyes bounced along as she danced.
“It’s been two hours,” I said. “Have you been able to discern anything of any value?”
“This is a very delicate task that would ordinarily take place in my office with all my tools and in complete silence. Not in a club with the bare essentials—” he gestured to the paltry selection of tools he carried on him in case of emergencies, “—and tits flailing about the place!”
“I thought the tits were a delightful addition,” I said. Our eyes met; he was scowling. “Fine,” I sighed. “Might I suggest a room?”
“I’m flattered, but I don’t sleep with men,” he snapped. The slight tilt of my head made him sweat, his brow twitching. “Apologies. I forgot for a moment whose company I was in.”
I didn’t react to his quip, instead gesturing to Fayth from across the room. She came over, a bounce in her step. It was good to see this place hadn’t completely broken her spirits yet. I know you more than others.Calming; soothing; lulling. I know her; I know you.
“Is everything okay, m’lords?” she asked, knowing full well I wasn’t a lord.
“We’re going to need a room,” I said. “Lord Archer is struggling to concentrate, so he needs some quiet time.”
Fayth nodded. “Very well, I can sort that. Although you’re going to need to take a girl with you. No girl, no room.”
“Can’t you make an exception?” I asked. She shook her head, and I sighed. “Very well.”
Ophelia had been quietly sitting beside me, platting my hair, playing the role of the airhead quite convincingly. I tapped her shoulder, and she awoke from her trance. Her eyes jolted from side to side, and then widened as she saw Fayth. Clearly, she had been in a world of her own.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“It would appear I require your assistance,” I said, and gestured to Sebastian. “He needs a room so he may concentrate. Would you do the honours of keeping him company?”
She knew it wasn’t a request she could turn down, so she nodded and smiled. Sebastian stood, collecting all his tools, and gestured for Ophelia to lead the way. He cursed under his breath. Fayth escorted them both to the black spiral staircase, and handed over a set of keys that Ophelia took. My eyes followed them as they ascended, counting how many floors up they went. Six in total.
I people watched for a while. Enough of the evening had passed that most of the men had become intoxicated, or at least tipsy. Boisterous laughter and jolly singing had replaced the sound of the violin, no one sitting centre stage. Fayth returned to the front desk, sitting alone, waiting to be needed. And off to the side of the room, I saw Gregory and Gardenia. They were jittery, eyes flickering between their clients and me; they took it in turns to watch.
I stood from the booth, both of them snapping their gazes to meet mine, and made my way to the bar.
“Dead Man’s Kiss, extra ice,” I said to the bartender. “And I’m gonna need a straw.”
He was quick to bring me my order, patterns carved into the ice cubes. I leant against the bar, nursing my drink. Neither Gregory nor Gardenia came to play twenty questions, which was surprising. They instead hid behind the curtains and away from my peripheral vision. A girl with fake pink hair jumped onto the centre stage and sang a rowdy song, the men knowing the lyrics and joining in.
“Hey,” a voice whispered; It was Fayth. Her hand gently touched my shoulder.
“My lady,” I replied. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
She gave me the once over, biting on her lower lip. A faint light shimmered in her eyes; surely her Eternal speaking to her.
“What you got there?” she eventually asked, avoiding my question.
“Dead Man’s Kiss,” I said, snaking the straw under my mask and taking a sip. It was incredibly bitter and had an aftertaste that burned. The flavour brought to mind dark chocolate and coffee. You hate coffee.
“Oh. I’ve not had it before. Is it nice?” she asked, pulling it towards herself so she could sniff it. Her nose wrinkled.
“Yes.” No. “It’s my favourite.” It’s vile. It reeks. Put it down. Why did you order this crap?
“I think you might enjoy something a bit more floral,” she said, taking the menu and looking at it. “Maybe try… a Glittery Moon?”
Despite my attempt to maintain a stoic facade, my lips pressed into a half-smile. Luckily, no one could see anything beneath the mask.
“It’s fine. This one is my favourite. I’ll leave the Glittery Whatevers to someone else.” I took another sip. My nose wrinkled. You really hate coffee. Why are you still drinking it? Just try the Glittery Moon; you know you wanna.
Fayth pursed her lips. “Oh, maybe another time then.” She put the menu down, but still looked at me expectantly. “So, how have you been? I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“I’ve been busy.” I said, but try as I may, I couldn’t quite remember what exactly I had been busy with. “At His Highness' beck and call, as always,” I added, the only thing I knew for certain.
She nodded along. “Is… His Highness planning a visit anytime soon?”
I shook my head. “Not as far as I’m aware, no.” Another sip of my drink; I didn’t shudder this time, but the little voice in my head wailed.
“That’s good,” Fayth said. “I last saw him about two weeks ago. I was hoping I had a little longer before his next visit.”
“You’ve got time,” I said.
She gave me the once over again, holding herself. Despite the fake blond hair and brown eyes, her sharp features and defined jawline were not so easily hidden. She could cycle through a dozen variations of eye and hair colour and style, and I would always know it was her. I had memorised every flaw and strength; studied every expression and mannerism; treasured the very timber in which she spoke my name. My memories could be broken and erased, and she would be the foundation upon which my identity would be rebuilt upon. It had been done a hundred times over.
An inexplicable sadness washed over me as I looked at her, as though I were on the precipice of remembering something profoundly important. Fayth inched closer, her body pressing against mine, and she softly kissed my cheek. The gesture was a welcome comfort, a fleeting moment of solace I hadn't realised I needed.
Why when I’m with you do I feel like I’ve forgotten something?
BECAUSE YOU HAVE FORGOTTEN, MY CHILD… I felt ALTHENYA’S words etch themselves on the walls of my mind.
What have I forgotten, exactly? I asked.
EVERYTHING.
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