Axel returned a
short time later, a young man with him; he was young and dressed as a
performer from the circus, in one hand he held a lyre, in the other a
small bag, on his face a wide smile of paint and a happy smile of
lips and teeth.
"This is Demyx" Axel said, patting the
boy's back, "I found him out of a job and on the road, so I
asked if he wanted to work for a count. What do you say?" Count
Marluxia looked at the boy intensely and then asked,
"What
can you do?"
The boy bowed very deeply, looking awkward and
rushed, saying,
"So please your lordship, I sing, play,
juggle, and I was an acrobat in the circus."
"Show
me."
Demyx removed seven or eight brightly colored balls
from his bag and maneuvered them expertly through the air, I was
already impressed by this feat, even more so when he began catching
them behind his back and on his nose or bounced them on his elbows
and knees, all a perfect performance done with complete focus,
without fear of failure.
Next, he performed a series of complex
physical acts that involved rapid aerial stunts in quick succession
and displays of flexibility in ways I did not know a human was
supposed to bend.
"And what song would your lordship like
to hear?" Demyx asked as he picked up the lyre.
"Any
song that will convince me to keep you," he responded dryly,
"don't hesitate to impress me."
The poor boy squeaked
and nearly dropped his instrument. Against the wall Axel was laughing
at him, and I alone took pity on him to give him a nod of
encouragement, whispering to him,
"Go on."
At
that, Demyx played a few notes and broke out into song. He used the
lyre expertly and sang us a story about a foolish young girl who
wanted to marry the Spirit of Winter. When this spirit refused her
love, she flung herself into a pond and was encased under a layer of
ice, so when the Spirit realized his true feelings, she was already
dead. It's odd, but all the saddest stories have winter in them, I
think, and I myself pitied the maiden, if only because young Demyx's
singing was so enchanting.
As the last note faded into the air,
Count Marluxia's applause echoed throughout the room.
"What
a charming little musician. Vexen, was that not a lovely song?"
"Indeed it was." Demyx smiled brightly and bowed.
"Thank you milord. Thank you, thank you!"
The
count flicked his wrist at Axel and said,
"Take my new fool
up to the countess, would you? She's in her study." Then as they
were leaving he added, "Are the flowers in the garden?"
Axel's smile reached the marks on his face when he said,
"Come
on, you trust me more than that, don't you my liege?"
"I
trust you enough to find me the most beautiful flowers," the
count poured himself another cup of tea, "but I want assurance
you got the job done right."
The guard crossed his arms and
clicked his tongue impatiently.
"The flowers are in the
garden, arranged just as you like them. Everything's been taken care
of, all they need now is to pass your inspection, which I don't doubt
they will."
"You have a habit of disappointing me
though, Axel. Are they tender young buds like I requested, or did you
forget that detail? The whole point to my gardening is that I wish to
raise them to maturity myself."
"Then be at ease,
they're all as young and healthy as I could find, green down to the
last one. Now excuse me as I run this delivery, Countess Larxene
would appreciate the company of a fool..."
"I hope
this delivery is better than the last, I detest disappointment and I
find your taste somewhat lacking."
Axel's eyes drifted
curiously towards me and back again.
"Well, I'm beginning
to think you've got no taste at all."
Count Marluxia choked
on his tea and laughed out,
"Nicely put, Axel. You're right
in that we must not keep my dear Larxene waiting, she'd enjoy the
company of a...talented young bard."
Axel and Demyx left the
room and I was about to leave as well when I had the urge to ask,
"Is the countess always alone?"
He responded with
faint surprise, covering his bewilderment that I even thought to ask
that.
"My lovely Larxene? Of course not, she usually spends
mornings in her study and has afternoon tea with me. You see, she
prefers solitude to dull company and she's even more selective than I
am about who she spends her time with."
"So you
don't," I hesitantly stated, "have bad relations with her?"
He chuckled and looked at me with a mischievous glimmer in his
eye as he said to me, "We get along splendidly, no doubt about
that. We drink the best tea in the late afternoons, followed by
dinner and wine, and then we entertain each other until the early
morning hours."
Zexion entered to clear the table. "Good
day, Dr. Vexen."
I remember that I didn't get much done
that night for being so sore about the captain's accusations. I also
remember I slept without dreams.
Axel only came to breakfast
that once, after that I dined with the count alone. I never knew what
he did after morning tea, and I wasn't curious enough to ask. I found
out from Zexion, one day in the library, that the count spent most of
his hours in the labyrinth garden he was so fond of. I did meet with
the little jester again, however, he came down with a cold and was
sent straightaway to my workplace.
"This always happens,
every winter." he said as I made a syrup to stop the hacking
that broke into his every few words.
"Stay out of the
cold," I advised, "and try to keep yourself warm at night."
Demyx chirped, "Will do sir, not that I have much else to
look after apart from my health."
"Take care of
yourself. After all, who else would be able to entertain the
countess?"
He smiled sheepishly and wrung his hands, having
no juggling balls to hold.
"The countess stopped calling me
a few days ago," he sadly declared, "I think she's grown
bored with me."
I didn't think much of his down-hearted
tone, I found I couldn't relate to it, I just handed him the flask
and ordered him to drink it all down and not complain about the
taste.
"Do you like Count Marluxia?" Demyx asked after
handing me the empty cup.
"He's an interesting man," I
said after some thought, "who comes from nobility and has
embodied all their graces. He is educated, courtly, and has a fine
taste in tea, though he devotion to flowers concerns me from time to
time..."
"No," he interrupted, "I
meant...oh, never mind."
I was having trouble balancing the
tasks of working on my research and listening to the jester prattle
so I exclaimed,
"Out with it boy! I don't have all day,
just say what it is and leave!"
"Is Count Marluxia your friend?"
Demyx regretted saying those words; his
face pulled in like he was expecting a blow and his hands were
nervous fists at his sides. What came from me was not an attack but a
strangled response,
"That is preposterous! He just uses me
as morning company for a lack of courtiers, we don't have the
emotional ties you are referring to. He is a lord after all, and
I'm..."
"A peasant?" His expression was so timid
and saintly I mistook it as condescending.
"I am not a
peasant! I was going to say that I hold the equivalent position of a
minor church official, which is more than I can say about you in any
case." Demyx took a step back and nodded his head in a single
slow motion.
"I see. Forgive me doctor, I was out of line."
Then he dropped to his knees and pleaded, "Please don't tell the
count! I'll never, ever be insubordinate again!"
I dropped
my pen mid sentence and didn't bother to pick it up.
"What
on Earth are you wailing for? Why would I say such a thing to Count
Marluxia?"
He knelt there on the ground, sobbing and
trembling, saying to me,
"Axel told me that I should never
ever get out of line in this place, and that if milord was ever
displeased with me, I'd be killed and replaced without a second
thought!"
The very idea, I thought, was completely absurd; I
couldn't see the amiable Count Marluxia, who was so against the
hierarchy of society, to order execution for something so trivial.
"Don't pay Axel any mind, he's the scourge of humanity."
"Oh," Demyx said as he dried his eyes, "well, he
did have the heart to take me in though, right? He could have left me
to die on the streets where he found me, so in a way he saved my
life."
"Where did he find you?"
He assumed a
sitting position, realizing that the danger had passed and said,
"I
was kicked out of the circus a few days prior and I only had enough
money to get myself drunk. So there I was, out on the dark roads of
the village of Hollow Bastion with my juggling balls and lyre; too
drunk to stand but too sober to cry, and then Axel came along in a
riding coat, pulling a cart with the Count's delivery. He asked why a
circus man was out on the street and then proposed the court jester
position.
"It got a little hazy after that, because the
next thing he did was bring me to a bar to get me some more drinks
and talk. He said he would take me to Lacoste as long as I followed
all of his conditions: I would do as I was told without questions, I
would never go outside, I would never enter any door that was closed
without being bidden, I would never enter the Western Wing without
and order from Axel, milord, or milady. I would drop any subject that
was refused to be spoken of, and I would not look inside of the
cart."
Axel was most certainly insane, I thought, to impose
so many groundless restrictions on the young man...perhaps he was
just that cruel.
"He's obviously trying to scare you, the
count isn't anyone to be afraid of."
Demyx's expression
softened until it was his naturally cheerful disposition.
"You're
right doctor, I'm being frightened about gossip and nothing more. I
shall just put these worries aside and practice my act, maybe write a
new song!"
"That's wonderful," I said, finally
reaching down to retrieve my pen, "but I have research to attend
to and I've put it off long enough, so if you could just..."
"Right, say no more, I'll just go now." To my
amusement and annoyance he did back-handsprings to the door and with
a friendly wave said, "Thanks for everything!" before
bounding down the hall.
The night's efforts turned out to be, as
usual, hardly the success I'd been expecting, and I returned to my
room to get some sleep. As I looked outside, I found myself alert and
restless, because I was remembering my nightmare about the black
ghoul. It was foolish and unfounded, yes, but it was only to be
expected when my upbringing before my studies were filled with
superstitions and tales of poltergeists and vampires and other
creatures of imagination. My mother and father, both stricken down
respectively by disease and broken heart in my youth, found it vital
to relay these stories to me, as they believed that those monsters
walked among us and were a danger to us. In the monastery, I learned
about creatures created by the forces of evil, demons of greed and
pride. Though I never believed in any of those creatures, my mind did
not, could not, draw a more sensible conclusion, so I decided that
the specter was merely a nightmare, a ghoul in it's own respect, a
beast that rode through the world of sleep, not the world of men.
That night I dreamed of Hell, and the shrieks and screams of the
condemned souls were outside my window and around my ears.
