"The Red Death had long devastated the country. No pestilence had ever been so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avatar and its seal - the redness and the horror of blood. There were sharp pains, and sudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with dissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the face of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid and from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure, progress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an hour."
~'The Masque of the Red Death,' by Edgar Allan Poe.
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The air was hot and muggy. The ground and grass dry and cracked as the carts wheels rolled over them. There was no cloud in the sky to offer shade to cool the travelers and there looked to be none on the way.
The travelers were six in count; Five servants and their lord. Their destination a small town, seemingly in the middle of a wasteland; no forest or river were near by.
The hot July sun beat down on them. There was no wind much to their dismay. The one female servant in the group fanned herself. Two of her companions leaned close behind her trying to catch any stray breeze.
"Gerroff!" She said elbowing them away. "Yer suffocating me!"
"Sorry, Mey," the smaller of the two said, "It's just so hot."
"Yeh," the taller and older said, "An' Finny an' me didn't bring a fan."
Mey-Rin, held the fan close to her chest protectively. "But, it's mine. I brought it!"
"Please, May, won't you share?" Finny asked, sweetly. "Please?"
The bespectacled red-head pouted. She didn't want to share at the moment, but she didn't want to be cruel to her friends. Especially when they were giving her the sad-eyed-puppy look. The two blond men, though one more boyish, held their hands pleadingly in front of them. She sighed and relented, "You and Bard promise to give it back?"
Bardroy and Finnian simultaneously nodded and said, "we promise!"
Across from the trio sat the traveling Lord with his head butler. One might have thought this description strange for the Lord was a child. And stranger still was the eye patch he wore. It aroused questions in the mind. Questions that would have been too rude to ask the earl and whom would have gone unanswered anyway.
The boy sat cross armed and cross legged. His expression irritated, both from the heat and from the small argument his three servants had. They had solved it quickly, but still the stifling hotness remained. The earl took a small handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his brow.
The butler to his right, who was shading the Lord with an umbrella, was an old man. A man who rarely spoke, but was very knowledgeable. Though his visage was slightly red from heat and damp from sweat like his masters, he held a pleasant and patient smile on his face.
The last of the group, but not the least was a second butler who was driving the cart. While the others were feeling discomfort from the heat, the man appeared very much at ease. Though he wore a black suit and had dark hair his face remained un-flushed and there was not a bead of sweat on his brow.
"We're almost there now." The butler called over his shoulder. His voice was clear, calm, and articulate. "How are you fairing, Master Ciel?" The man turned his head to the young earl.
The blue haired boy nodded, "Fine. Thank you, Sebastian."
"And you, Mr. Tanaka?"
The elder butler also nodded.
Sebastian, pleased, returned his eyes to the road. "I can see the outline of the village ahead, sir. It shan't be long now."
