A grand mansion; magnificent, yet cold and empty. The corridors and
halls are made of white-washed walls, which are not covered by
paintings or pictures. All the light bulbs are dim because they do not
dare to shine. As a result, inky shadows gather in some of the corners.
The only source of colour is the carpet on the floor, which covers
every floor in the entire mansion, as a counterpart to the walls. In
this impressive tomb the servants walk with their heads low and
everyone has the tendency to walk by the walls or on one side of the
stairs. The corridors and halls are not a meeting place.
One bedroom, coloured and cosy, reveals a married couple’s
successful bliss. The only source of light is the chandelier; hanging
in the middle of the ceiling. It produces a golden glow, but shadows
remain on the sides. If one looks, one can easily see outlines of
framed pictures on the shadowed walls as well as drawn curtains, which
are illuminated at the bottom. The curtains and the carpet are the same
scarlet, just like the bed. The dressing table is within the circle of
light, however the bed is partially submerged. A woman of Eastern Asia,
who has skin of depth and white blonde hair, sits on her bed, wearing
her navy, velvet dress. She has no make-up. One must look hard to see a
man lying on the bed, dozing. He seems to be shrouded in glowing
darkness. He retains much of his youthful magnetism and form. He is
wearing black, leather trousers, with a black, sleeveless shirt. His
make-up consists of dark purple eye shadow and black lipstick. He had
never witnessed full daylight.
The woman idly stroked her husband’s hair. “You’re worried,” stated the Gothic Lord.
The woman sighed. “Scythe, if I tell
you...” She gripped her hand on her husband’s shoulder and
shivered.
He opened his eyes. “I will probably say you worry too much, but you have to spit it out.”
This particular non-Dark Citizen revealed her worry all over her face. “Kron’s bunch.”
Scythe sat up. “What about them?”
“They’re up to something!” his wife snapped.
“They’re always up to something,
that’s why that Vilkon faction is closely guarded…and
scorned.”
“That’s usually an assurance, but, every
time I’ve been looking at them-recently-I sense they plan
something…big.”
“Like what? A mass murder of everyone against
them? A take-over of Vangelion?” Scythe’s scepticism was
unmistakeable, despite the expressionless face.
“Whenever I try to decide what they’re
planning, I think up over-reactive situations just like those. It may
or may not be one of those, but they are planning something.” A
moment of silence fell on the couple. “Yes Scythe! I know
you’re thinking I worry too much again and that I
over-react and-”
“Your senses are hardly wrong, Zareen,” Scythe pointed out.
“So you’re saying something should be done?” Zareen asked her husband, hopefully.
“Not yet, we have to wait for a sign to prove
this. For now, relax and keep alert.” Scythe had explained this
in a semi-cold voice.
Zareen gripped his hand. “When morning comes,
we must say our prayers.” There was a knock on the door.
“Come in!” called Scythe.
In came a stout, plump, woman of Eastern Asia in her
late 60s. People often underestimated her ability of the Martial Arts.
She wore the black garb of the Martial Arts fighter.
“Sensei Tonshu,” Zareen greeted with the bow of her head.
“Zareen, Scythe, I have certain news,” told Tonshu simply.
“And what’s the news, Sensei?” asked Scythe.
“A body has been found, killed by
ritual,” Tonshu reported. “He was found outside
Wester’s Bar in the Klorsen Territory.”
“So it’s an illegal crime,” confirmed Scythe.
“Who issued the report?” asked Zareen, concerned.
“Dorania Kirilian. They have asked all the
major families to be alert of all magic abuse,” Tonshu continued
to report. “He had committed suicide in a trance-like state, as
confirmed by a Sorcerer. He had sliced his palms, stabbed himself, then
possibly walked off the building, falling to his death. As I am telling
you this, every other major figure is being given the same
report.”
Tonshu allowed the couple to contemplate on the information. “Is that all?” asked Scythe.
“Actually, your son happened to be
nearby-” as Tonshu was saying this, Kiyor was coming in through
the door “-and I’m glad that the guards I placed were in a
position to protect him.”
Kiyor slammed the door. “It was one of your guards that gave me away!”
“Kiyor! Do not be disrespectful to the Sensei!” Zareen ordered in shock.
“Mum you don’t understand! If everybody
knows I’m a Vilkon, I’ll be revered everywhere!” It
was only now that Kiyor reached the pool of light. Despite the
expressionless face, similar to his father’s, his eyes revealed
fury.
“Oh, what a catastrophe,” Scythe sarcastically prophesied, out of dry humour of course.
“Look Dad-”
“I have a good mind to beat some manners into
you Gakusei!” snapped Tonshu. “Stop being so disrespectful
to your parents.”
“Sensei, let him be rude,” his father
advised. “He’s a man now, he knows he must think about the
consequences of his actions. Kiyor, settle your anger.”
Zareen smiled in general humour. She looked up at her son. “So who found out?”
“Rowan Kirilian. She said she’d keep the knowledge to herself,” he coldly reported.
Scythe grinned. “And so she will. Kirilians
are rather good at promises like that; it is why they’re the best
diplomats. However…” He straightened himself. “You
follow a routine and roam the streets an awful lot.”
“Most people think I’m nobody,”
countered his son coolly. “It would have stayed that way
if-”
“Tell me the rule of survival in the Dark Kingdom.”
Kiyor looked at his father in confusion. “What?”
“You know what it is, tell me.”
The young man looked to the floor. “Stay in the shadows.”
“And what do you keep doing?” …
“Still looking at the floor? What are you doing every night?
Daring a demon to attack you?”
Zareen looked sadly at her stony husband, who coolly
watched his son, training his eyes on the floor. She got up and walked
hurriedly to her child. She linked her arm with his. “Come along
Kiyor.” He obediently followed his mother outside. The bedroom
door closed.
“It is a shame that he carries your anger,” commented Tonshu.
Scythe looked at his former teacher. “He’ll learn to suppress it.”
“It is not a question of if, but when.”
Sensei Tonshu walked nearer to him. “I still remember you being
an agitated boy; being very impatient during my Master’s
sessions. You learned to control your anger because of a harsh lesson.
Let us hope that the same experience does not happen to young
Kiyor.” For a short moment, a flicker of worry appeared in
Scythe’s eyes.
In the hallway, Zareen seemed to inspect her son.
She shook her head sadly. “I still remember those punishments you
were made to endure by your grandparents and great-grandparents,”
she told him quietly. “A public whipping or being reduced to a
slave-”
“They were as much a test as a punishment,” Kiyor reminded her mechanically.
She sighed. “They were cruel to be done on
children so young. You wouldn’t ask for my comfort until the Sun
rose.”
They walked in stony silence. Someone appeared at
the top of the stairs. A woman wearing black clothes and white make-up
descended these stairs, while being watched by the pair in the shadows.
The make-up made her pale face look ghostly.
“A follower of Kron,” relieved
Zareen, once the woman had passed. “As much as I love seeing
bright colours that bring me hope, they strike me with fear at night as
with any Dark Citizen.”
… “Would you like some tea Mother?” Kiyor sincerely asked.
“Please. Lead the way.”