It's official: Anarchy Sky is the Tom Robbins of Alnel. Her stuff is old, granted, but highly entertaining. (She makes references to Se7en and Once Upon a Time in America in the same chapter, which automatically equals awesome in my book.) The dramatic stuff isn't bad either, actually. I recommend her to all new or nostalgic Nelbel shippers, so long as they do not like Sophia.
It's also official: Adray is now the Bear-Jew. Do not dispute this.
"In him the man and the wolf did not go the same way together, but were in continual and deadly enmity. One existed simply and solely to harm the other, and when there are two in one blood and in one soul who are at deadly enmity, then life fares ill. Well, to each his lot, and none is light."
--Steppenwolf
"I believe a man lost in the mazes of his own mind may imagine that he's anything."
--Doctor Lloyd from The Wolfman (1941)
A jab to his side roused Albel from his sleep. The dark shape of a man bent over him against the morning light, bright eyes peering through cracked spectacles.
"Hey, you...sir...Wake up now. You've been making a racket all night and now it's time to get yourself outta here..."
"Shut up, maggot." Albel pushed him aside as he stood up. At his full height, his shadow engulfed the man.
"I'm just asking you politely. I could call the guards over here if you want to be that way."
Albel ignored him and stalked off. His back hurt from sleeping on the cobblestones, and he wasn't about to listen to some scum complain about his nightmares.
He made his way to the north gate where Nel was waiting in her usual clothes, beard-free. She looked up at him through her red bangs.
"That took you a while. Where did you stay the night?"
"None of your business."
"Fine." She hefted her things onto one shoulder and started along the road without another word.
Albel trailed some distance behind her as if to pretend it wasn't he who followed her. His eyes trained on her back, her feet, her light step; the dust that hardly billowed beneath her feet. He adjusted his own tread to surpass hers in silence and grace. He stalked her, body bent forward, boots padding without a sound.
"Funny, Albel. Now stop it before I make you march in front of me like a prisoner."
"I don't know what you're talking about, scum. Maybe you should have your ears fixed."
Nel sent an exasperated glare over her shoulder.
"You're such a child."
"And what do you know?"
"What do you mean by that?"
Albel smirked. "I've seen things with those maggots that would make your pathetic gods dust. Life's a joke and all things show it, Zelpher. Take it from me. I'm not the ignorant child here."
"Don't draw me into this, Albel. I have better things to worry about."
"Heh. Maybe if that maggot had invited you along you'd be thrown off your Aquarian high-horse by now."
Nel refused to acknowledge him any further, though her gait had stiffened since he had spoken. He snorted in satisfaction, but refrained from aggravating her anger. Not one ounce of him regretted antagonizing her; he had seen the looks she gave Leingod from time to time and they were nothing but fancy, an empty wish—pipe dreams, as the philosopher-merchant had called them. What made a seasoned killer like her feel anything for that young, foolish maggot was beyond him, but if Fayt was her hope, then Albel was the demon of regret that nipped at her ankles. Or so he liked to proclaim.
Pleased with himself, Albel loped along behind Nel with the air of a well-fed jackal. This annoyed her more than his stalking, for she tensed even more and the silence between them buzzed with her rage.
No monsters met them on the path; the heat had driven them into the shade of the forests. After several hours of wordless trekking, Aquios appeared over the horizon, the dark maw of the city gates stretching its white tongue of a bridge over the cliffs. The hair on Albel's neck rose at the sight of it.
"There's room for you in the barracks," Nel said to him as they drew closer to the city. "You'll have a room to yourself, but there will be recruits and subordinate officers nearby. Can you handle that?"
"Hmph. And where's this lycanthrope of yours being kept?"
"I'll show you when we get there."
She led him over the bridge and into the great mouth of the archway. Albel stepped tentatively across the threshold, sniffing at the air as if expecting to find something detestable about it. It smelled clean, fresh and holy, like the water that flowed from the Irisa river. A relief of Apris clutching his spear, beard and mane splayed wildly about his face like the rays of the sun, scrutinized him with divine severity from the inner wall of the archway. Albel bared his teeth at it, just as he had bared his teeth at the dying wolf.
He snapped to attention as Nel called his name and grudgingly trotted after her. The streets were quieter than usual. Perhaps it was a holy day and the subservient worms were at their chapel praying to that same leonine face. Damn all their pitiful souls to hell.
"Today is Sirvia's Day," Nel said, "Greeton has been making hostile gestures toward us as of late, so most of the town is praying for the soul of the blessed queen to give us strength."
"So the mutt's at the chapel?" Albel growled with distaste. "You'll never get me in there alive, scum. Try another day."
"No. It's too risky for us to let him near large groups. He has his own small shrine that the priests have set up in his cell."
"So you've caged him? How generous of you maggots."
"We didn't have a choice, Albel."
She took him down the road just past the barracks where the prison lay. The guards flanking the door pounded their fists to their chests in a salute. "Good afternoon, Lady Nel," they said in unison.
"At ease. We're here to see Conri." Nel said. Albel cracked a contemptuous smile at the sudden authoritative firmness in her voice.
"Yes ma'am!" One of the guards pulled open the door and Albel followed Nel inside.
They walked past several cells, most of them empty. A sole grizzled prisoner smirked up at Albel with glazed eyes from the dusty floor.
"They'll feed you to him, I'll bet...Those bastards chew out the heart first an' eat it while it's still pumping blood..."
The prisoner muttered something else, but it drowned in the sound of their boots against the stone.
At length they reached the end of the corridor. Nel slowed before they reached the last cell.
"He didn't have a name when he came here, but we call him Conri." She said in a low voice. "I know you're not one for politeness, Albel, but I don't recommend making him angry."
"What do you think I am? That cur's head will roll before he touches me."
"Just do as I say for once. Don't make me regret this, Nox." From the look she gave him, he could see that she already was.
"Bah."
Albel moved past her to look through the bars. The lycanthrope sat in the cell, reclined on a well-padded bed, a lit cigarette clenched between his sharp teeth. Ashes were scattered on the floor below him. A copy of the scriptures of Apris lay open in his lap from which he read vigorously, unkempt blond hair swaying as he turned a page. A small makeshift altar stood against the wall, statuettes of Apris and his lunar wives set beside lit candles. Plumes of incense mingled with the cigarette smoke in a pungent cloud that burned Albel's nostrils.
"Conri," Nel called, "I have someone for you to meet."
The lycanthrope jerked his head up. When he spotted Nel, he broke into a wide grin.
"Lady Nel! How've you been?"
He sprang off the bed and shambled to the bars as if unused to using only two legs. His amber eyes glistened, somehow reminding Albel of the man who had woken him that morning. He wore nothing but a pair of ash-stained slacks.
"Is Lady Clair with you?" he asked.
"No. She's still in Arias. There's a lot of cleaning up to be done."
"Oh." Conri's look of disappointment seemed an exaggerated version of human emotion-- an actor who didn't know the meaning of subtlety.
"Conri, this is Albel. He'll be staying here for a little while."
The lycanthrope squinted at Albel like an old man hard of sight. His nostrils flared as he took in his scent, and Albel shifted with an annoyed grunt. Conri's ears pricked at the sound.
"Well aren't we a ray of fucking sunshine," he said.
"What was that, mutt?" Albel shot him a snarl to match the yellow grin.
"You're a Glyphian, aren't you? Jayr says that all Glyphs are scumfucks only good for target practice. What's he doing here?"
He directed his last question at Nel, whose hands had begun inching toward the hilts of her daggers.
"He's an old comrade." she replied tentatively.
"If you'd seen the way our armies tore apart Arias, scum, you wouldn't be so quick to speak." Albel snapped.
"That sort of language isn't very pious of you either, Conri," Nel said, ignoring Albel. "I thought you'd learned better."
"It's easier when Lady Clair's around." Conri muttered, withdrawing slightly. "When did you say she would be back?"
"Not for a while."
He sighed, again with exaggerated emotion.
"I'll bring you more books when I can." Nel said sternly. "Have you already finished your prayers?"
Conri nodded.
"Good for you. I still need to visit the chapel myself. We'll leave you to your reading."
"Okay. G'bye Lady Nel." He shambled back to the bed, pausing to crush the smoking end of his cigarette against the floor and toss it into an tin cup.
"He likes to smoke; it makes him feel human," Nel explained to Albel as they left.
"The mutt wouldn't stop talking about that scum friend of yours," said Albel. "Maybe I should have told him how prepared I was to slice her in half on the battlefield."
"Clair has visited him a few times since he's arrived. He's very intelligent, but most of the scholars are afraid to come near him."
"Hmph. What exactly did he do to your soldiers, wench?"
Nel hesitated before answering. "He all but tore their throats out. Nobody knows what made him react that way; the man who would know is in too severe a condition to tell, and Conri doesn't remember a thing."
"You should kill him if you have any brains in that maggot skull. I'll even be willing to do it myself."
"No, Albel."
"I don't know why I bothered coming with you," he grumbled, "I'm running out of reasons to put up with this any longer."
"You haven't been to the barracks yet." Then she said, "I would like to thank you, Nox. You held your temper better than I expected back there."
Albel avoided looking at her; he didn't want to know if she was smiling at him. His monster growled with contempt behind his eyes.
"You'll be staying in the castle. I don't think you're caging me with half your army because you lack room."
"You know why. Don't make me explain it."
"Bah. You're worthless maggots, all of you."
Nel walked him to the barracks. The soldiers saluted Nel and eyed Albel with a mixture of curiosity and fear as she led him to his quarters. The room was small and sparsely furnished with a bed and a dresser the size of an end table. A wreath of Erinia adorned the wall, red yupa flowers intertwined like severed tongues in a grotesque ritual.
Albel forgot the moment when Nel left; she seemed to slip out with the breeze, her goodbyes falling on apathetic ears. He remained fixated on the wreath, his desire to tear the thing down and crush it with the hilt of the Scourge waning with each second. He soon turned away and shut the door to block out the stares the soldiers gave him as they passed.
It was still early in the evening, but the thought of walking in the streets under hundreds of wary Aquarian eyes kept him from venturing out. He thought of Nel and the lycanthrope and the carved face of Apris staring down at him—the shining eyes behind cracked spectacles staring down at him against the sun.
Albel let out a low snarl; teeth gnashing and spittle glistening in the rays of light that streamed through his window.
Closing Note: Conri/Clair = Do not want. The Bear-Jew is not amused. Thanks again to BlueTrillium for the lovely notes on the Aquarian pantheon. Though I mentioned that you don't need to have read Hesse's novel to understand the fic, there are several Easter eggs I have planted or plan to plant for those who have. Conri himself is one of them to an extent. I kinda flew through this chapter and did homework at the same time, so I hope I didn't do too crappy a job.