Intrare Lupus
"There's someone searching for you,"
The man in the fisherman's hat smirks. "Well, Lord, what do you plan to do?"
The throne in the shadows trembles. A hand extends from the darkness. On the ring finger is a thick gold band with a brilliant, and incredibly rare, red diamond. The figure seated on the august black marble throne shooes away the messenger. Those present fall into two lines and walk out in perfect unison with military precision. The gargantuan stone doors are pulled shut behind them.
"Let it be known that the games begin,"
Zakuro rounds a close-knit number of tents. The refugees from the crisis have gathered in the area. When the entire city had shaken the centre dipped in the middle to form a perfect safe haven. Despite its large size not everyone has taken refuge there. Zakuro, for one, isn't interested in staying longer than necessary. The term 'safe haven' is grossly misleading as the land could fall further at any moment. She raises her head proudly and averts her gaze from the people. She isn't in her supermodel-with-money-to-throw-at-any-cause mode and assisting them would cost her time that she can't afford to waste.
She pauses at the sight of an extravagant orange-red tent with blue, white and green stripes along it. She sighs in exasperation and shakes her head in disbelief. She had always known him as an eccentric who took his idiosyncrasy to new heights. She grasps her hood and pulls it down low over her head to conceal her face. Slowly she makes her way to the eccentric's abode. The people run from her presence in fear and it almost makes her smile.
She pushes those cued outside of the tent from her path. An angry man jostles her and mutters that she should feel guilty. Zakuro's hand moves to rest on the hilt of her newly acquired militia Kyu-gunto. She glances along the line of angry people questioningly. She then lifts the flap and enters. Her free hand grasps the collar of the client's shirt and she hauls him out roughly. She kneels to pull the flap down and seal it shut. An angered grunt draws her attention to the eccentric.
He is fairly overweight with two double chins and a Hawaiian shirt that is close to bursting. His legs, despite his efforts, are unable to cross. His arms struggle to meet for him to clasp his hands. His attempts to look professional fall pitifully short of their mark. Zakuro smirks in amusement and makes her way over. She pulls her hood down and delights in the shock flashing across his face. She stops a few feet in front of him and crouches.
"Fujiwara-sama," he stammers. "I hadn't thought you would be here…. How is your search?"
She smiles and a spark lights in her cunning eyes. "Is that why you sold me out? Tell me, Nabua, why did you think you could do such a thing?"
He huffs, sweat beading on his brow fearfully. "I didn't want to, my lady, they… they made me! They tore out my toe nails and then my finger nails and they had those Tasers with them!"
She nods in understanding. "I know. You were very brave, but I'm sure you know that I didn't come for the sake of praising you. Tell me what I want to know,"
Arcadius shrugs off the dirt of his shoulders. The dust from the few buildings that have remained upright is causing him no end of grief. All of his wounds have had at least one sprinkling of filth and they burn. He growls and stares out at the huge hole in the city. The entire place has been overtaken by the Nigra Mors sect. They were the ones who tried to brainwash the confused and frightened citizens. To an extent they have succeeded but Arcadius managed to stop most of their efforts.
The section of the city would forever be in their control. Arcadius knows of the police speaking about intervening and taking the city back but it will never work. Even though Arcadius dislikes war he won't surrender his stolen area of the city. He draws a gun and fires it into the settlement. Chaos erupts almost immediately and the area descends into anarchy. The brainwashing hasn't been going on for long enough for the new recruits to lose their sense of self-preservation.
Arcadius leaps back into the shadows. He turns around and finds his saviour waiting for him. In respect Arcadius bows and returns the gun to him. The seemingly elderly man turns it over in his hands. He nods at the condition and places it back in its holster.
He enquires pleasantly. "Have you decided what you want to do yet?"
"Zakuro likes to take things and give very little in return. I understand her goals and why she reaches for them with all she has but her lack of generosity is growing wearisome," Arcadius sighs. "I don't like to think of what would happen if I were to cross her."
The man smiles warmly. "Then I believe we can come to a mutual arrangement. You can gain her trust and lure her to the depths of that place. I can destroy two sects in one attack and you can rise to a higher position. Remember, this is a different world; we don't have to hide in the shadows anymore. Those who do will be the first to fall… I'll let you think over it."
Arcadius stares at the ground in deliberation. He has spent years of his life searching for a way to bring peace to her heart and mind. He has received nothing in exchange for his efforts. She hadn't even aided him in times where he needed an ally. His eyes narrow. Arcadius looks up and peers through the smoke. The Mews are wandering through the destroyed city with nothing more than a sense of loss. He sneers and sinks in the shadows.
Author's Note: Ah, well, it is a shame to see it at this place already. What can I do? This is merely a mini-series and could never have spanned many, many chapters.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I apologise if this was not to your satisfaction. Thank you for reading.
Nabua - An early Chaldean astronomer.
