Chapter Eleven: Alexei's Protege

At the age of eighteen, Flynn stood in the main room of the commandant's suite. After five years of living here, though, he was able to think of it as home. Out the window, crowds of young knights milled about in the central plaza, nervously awaiting the initiation ceremony. Flynn would be heading down to join them shortly. After a few months of training, it felt good to know that in an hour, he would officially be a proper knight.

"Are you ready?" Alexei crossed the room to stand beside him. He was dressed in his full commandant uniform in preparation for giving a speech, but Flynn had long ago stopped being intimidated by it.

"Yes, sir." He stood up a little straighter, never more proud to be wearing the uniform of the Knights.

"You look good." Alexei looked down at him. "I'm very proud of you, Flynn."

Flynn swallowed heavily. "Thank you, sir." After today, he supposed, he'd be leaving the castle to join a brigade stationed elsewhere in the Empire. He didn't know if he would ever be able to properly repay Alexei for the guidance and opportunities he'd provided Flynn. Because of him, Flynn had grown to adulthood in luxury and comfort. He'd received a top-notch education, even if the first few months had been rough as his new private tutor had to adjust his lessons for a student who'd never attended proper classes before. Every Knight in the castle knew him as the commandant's ward, and never hesitated to spar with him or offer advice when they saw him training. When he was old enough to sign up for the Knights, it quickly became apparent that his years of living with the commandant gave him a leg-up compared to his fellow recruits.

In general, life was good. He barely remembered what it felt like to go to bed hungry, and he'd never expected to have a guardian looking out for and mentoring him after his parents died - let alone a man as prestigious as the commandant. From an objective perspective, his life had significantly improved since he moved into the castle. But from a subjective one… he could never forget the circumstances that had landed him here. Sometimes it even felt like a higher power had sacrificed Yuri in exchange for a dream life. Flynn tried not to think of it that way, and instead framed it as the universe trying to right its wrongs and give him this unprecedented opportunity in some attempt to make it up to him. At the very least, Flynn knew that the training he'd received throughout his adolescence had uniquely prepared him to rise through the Knights, until he was high enough ranked to personally help Alexei turn the Empire around and put an end to the corruption in the Council. By doing that, he could seek justice for Yuri while simultaneously repaying Alexei.

Flynn fidgeted his hands while his mind fumbled for words. "Sir, I also… I just wanted to say… I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for me these last five years. When Yuri was killed, I thought my life was over, too. I don't know where I would have ended up if you hadn't taken me in."

"There is no need to thank me, Flynn." He gave Flynn a fond smile. "When I see the knight you are becoming, it is clear that the resources I put into raising you were a sound investment."

"Th-thank you, sir. I will never forget everything you've taught me."

Alexei folded his arms. "You speak as if this is a farewell."

"Uh… is it not? I'm going to be leaving after today to join a brigade, after all."

"Did I not tell you? You're being assigned to the Royal Guard. You'll stay in Zaphias. Of course, now that you have a become a man, I think you should begin living in your own quarters, but I'm sure I'll still see you on a regular basis. I wouldn't be opposed to sharing dinner, for example."

Flynn barely heard the second half of that. "I'm - I beg your pardon!? The Royal Guard? But sir, the Royal Guard doesn't take new recruits directly out of training. You have to be promoted there based on a solid record of exemplary service."

"Don't worry. I believe the commandant will make an exception for you."

"But…" Flynn looked to his feet and shook his head. "I can't accept this. It is my dream to be part of the Royal Guard, but I want to earn it properly. I don't want to be a beneficiary of nepotism."

Alexei's firm hand gripped his shoulder. "I am not giving you this position because I like you. You have earned it, Flynn. I'm assigning you to my personal brigade because I have watched you grow into a strong, resourceful, intelligent knight, whom I believe would be quite useful to me. This is not a gift for you; I am selfishly keeping your talents with me because I know you will be useful."

Flynn didn't dare raise his head because he didn't want Alexei to see him blush. "Even still, the other knights in the unit will think you're just favouring me."

"Then prove yourself to them." Alexei pulled his hand away. "If you're too afraid to seize an opportunity because of what your peers might think, perhaps I made a poor decision."

Flynn straightened up at that and met Alexei's eyes. "No. You're right, sir. I won't let their jealousy get in the way of my career."

"Good. There's the knight I want in my brigade."

"I really am honoured that you'd appoint me here, sir."

"Truth be told, it is in part because I know I can trust you. I have a great deal of plans for the upcoming years, and I need knights I can trust to follow my orders."

Flynn frowned. "Sir? What sort of plans do you mean?"

Alexei turned away from him and faced the window with his hands folded behind his back. "The Empire is a bastion of corruption. You know this. Nothing has changed since the man who murdered your friend all those years ago escaped without punishment."

Flynn's heart flickered at the mention of Yuri, as it always did.

"I've watched the Council squabble and indulge themselves, apparently oblivious to the growing threats from monsters and the Union. It seems they've already forgotten the Great War."

Flynn nodded. He had never been a fan of the government growing up in the lower quarter, and he might have thought that being elevated to the higher classes would change his opinion of them. Instead, he now knew the depth of their incompetence better than before. He wasn't sure if Alexei's pessimism had actually expanded over the years or if he'd just been more open about it as Flynn aged, but it was no secret that Alexei had no faith in the Imperial government to get anything accomplished.

"The Empire is spiralling out of control. It needs a firm hand to take the reins and put things to right."

"And you have a plan to fix these things, sir?"

Alexei looked back at Flynn. "I do. We cannot trust a Council comprised of spoiled noble civilians to protect and guide the Empire. It needs to be placed in the hands of the Imperial Knighthood, or I predict that it will collapse within a few generations."

Flynn raised his eyebrows. "But… how would you accomplish that? The Council would never diplomatically agree to cede power to the Knighthood. You'd have to lead an outright coup." When Alexei didn't immediately scoff at his words, Flynn's worry grew. "Sir? That sounds like treason."

"Yes… it does, doesn't it? But if the Council's incompetence is working against the interests of the Empire as a whole, are they not the traitors in this case?"

"I… suppose…." He didn't know what to think.

"Yes, a military takeover of the government sounds extreme, but consider the benefits the Empire will experience after the dust have settled. What have I always said about cases like this?"

Flynn answered promptly. "That leadership means making difficult decisions unblinded by childish ideas of moral purity. That a true hero doesn't restrain himself for fear of being called a villain."

"Exactly. Many will call what I plan to do villainous, but it is necessary for the preservation and renewed strength of the Empire. Can I count on your support?"

It wasn't a difficult decision for Flynn. Doing things by the book is what got Yuri's murderer exonerated, and besides, Alexei had never given him a reason not to trust his judgement before. He nodded firmly. "I'll follow you no matter what, sir."

When Yuri reached the lower quarter, his first stop was the Comet. It was probably risky to approach his home when the knights were surely looking for him, but he trusted they would be preoccupied with Michael and focus their search around the castle this early after finding him missing. The dark clouds threatened to dump buckets on the city later today, so no one thought his coat with a collar pulled up round his face and hat with a wide brim were unusual. His clothes were baggy on him, since he'd borrowed them from Leblanc, but they further helped him blend in.

Repede looked up when Yuri opened the door to his room. He growled and then put his head down again.

"Hey, Repede." Yuri crouched in front of him. "Did you miss me?" Repede was resourceful and he knew the dog would have managed to feed himself in the past few days, but he still felt guilty about abandoning him. "I didn't mean to disappear like that. I was in jail."

Repede kept his head down, but small twitches in his tail told Yuri that he wasn't completely unwelcome.

"I've got a lot to explain. Flynn's being held captive and a doppelgänger from an alternate universe is running around causing problems. He threw me in jail and tried to have me killed. Leblanc got me out, but now I need your help to find Flynn. Can you forgive me?"

Repede lay still for a few seconds, and then pushed himself to his feet and licked Yuri's face.

"Thanks." Yuri rubbed the side of his neck. "Now, let's get out of here. I don't want to be here when the knights come investigate my house."

Repede followed him down the steps and to the street. In front of the Comet, the weeks of rainfall had brought the level of the river nearly to street level. Yuri intended on making his way to the warehouse district where he and Flynn used to play. There were lots of empty buildings down there that someone with Flynn's memories might think to use as a prison. He had only gone a few blocks when a cluster of people down a side street caught his attention. With a sick feeling that he knew what the commotion was, Yuri took a detour to check it out.

Yuri smelled the blood before seeing anything. A handful of lower quarter residents clustered in a ring around the entrance to an alley, speaking in hushed voices. Yuri spotted Captain Chapman rubbing the arm of Mrs. Reaney as she sobbed against his chest. Yuri tried to imagine Captain Cumore showing up first thing in the morning for a murder in the lower quarter. He bitterly wondered if the new-and-not-improved-at-all-Flynn would have promoted a sufficient replacement for Cumore. The idea that more knights might be promoted and appointed while that bastard was sitting in Flynn's office, potentially resulting in long-term effects that counteracted everything Flynn had done so far, made him more determined than ever to put things right.

Repede growled so softly he only felt it as vibration against his leg. His nose was to the ground, ears pricked and tail raised.

"What is it?" Yuri murmured. "What do you smell?"

All Yuri could smell was the copper of blood mingling with the sweetness of a corpse beginning to rot, and he had no interest in getting closer to see the source. It was bad enough to imagine Michael's face in his memories of Mary's last moments.

Repede looked toward the entrance to the alley, and then his attention fixed back the way they had come.

Yuri crouched to Repede's level. So far, everyone's attention was on the tragedy in the alley, and they hadn't noticed him lurking in the back yet. He'd prefer to keep it that way. "You smell his trail, don't you?" Repede's growl was enough of a confirmation.

Yuri frowned and looked over his shoulder at the route they'd been taking. He was supposed to concentrate on finding Flynn and leave the Butcher to the Knights, but if Repede could pick up his trail… but Flynn was being help captive right now and needed to be found…. What would it be? Flynn, or Butcher?

A sob from Mrs. Reaney reached his ears and he sighed. Flynn would have to hold out a little bit longer.

Repede led Yuri away from the alley. Based on how strong the scent of blood had been, anyone walking away from that scene would reek of it. Luckily, the Butcher had taken back streets to leave the crime scene which meant Yuri could continue keeping a low profile. They took narrow alleys behind shops and hurried past tenement houses. After a few more twists and turns, they reached a narrow staircase that led up to the public quarter with a fabric shop on one side and a grocer's on the other. The worn stairs collected rainwater in the centre and Yuri could tell Repede struggled to keep track of the scent. Luckily, there was only one way to go.

At the top, they stepped onto a street perpendicular to the stairs. Water stagnated in the central gutter and rotten fruits and vegetables from the bin behind the grocer made Yuri's nose curl. He wondered if Repede could still follow the scent, but then Repede's ears shot forward and he growled at the metal bin. He approached slowly, sniffing the air.

"Something there?" All Yuri could smell was the discarded produce, but he knew better than to doubt Repede's nose. Cautiously, in case there was something dangerous in there, he approached the bin and pulled off the lid. More odour escaped, but nothing jumped out at them. Repede as still fixated on the bin, so Yuri sighed and tipped the whole thing over. Mouldering produce spilled onto the cobbles, but something grey caught his eye. He pushed a rotting lettuce leaf out of the way and picked up a pair of handcuffs. Red liquid dripped from them, but that was just strawberry juice. The reddish-brown stain on the edge of one of the loops, however…. Yuri closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

When Michael was seven, he'd been one of the kids in Yuri's neighbourhood that seemed to think he and Flynn were walking jungle gyms. He'd never met Mary before, but he knew more than enough lower quarter women who took up the world's oldest profession who could have been her. He didn't even know who the third victim had been, because she was just another riffraff off these streets whose name hadn't been deemed important. They were all innocent, and they were all his people. Multiple people had told him to leave the Butcher to the Knights, but a strong part of him was desperate to catch the guy first so he could punish him the way he didn't trust the Knights to do. After all, even if Flynn was back in charge, all he'd face was a hanging. He'd tortured three people to death and the beast inside roared for vengeance.

He had to take another deep breath. Fight the rage back; it would be there when he needed it. For now, he stood up. Daydreaming about crushing this bastard's face into the concrete could come later. He inspected the cuffs he'd found and pieced together a likely chain of events.

The Butcher cuffed his victims. That was a distinguishing part of his MO. Cuff 'em so they can't fight back when he cut them open. The cuffs had still been on Mary, but that was because Yuri interrupted him. Presumably, he didn't usually leave them behind, since they were a valuable clue. When he'd finished with Michael, he took the handcuffs off and ran away. He fled up these stairs, out of the lower quarter. He wasn't a lower quarter resident, then, because surely he'd be heading back to the safety of his home. Honestly, Yuri had never thought it was someone from the lower quarter. The Butcher chopped his people up for enjoyment and he'd bet anything it was some wealthy fuck who saw poor people as disposable as cattle.

So, he'd dropped these cuffs here hoping they'd get thrown in the dump with the rest of the trash and never be found. Couldn't have bloodied handcuffs lying around the house, right? Suppose he'd done the same to the ones he'd used on the second victim. He'd gone through three pairs, now, and these things weren't exactly easy to get hold of. This exact type was produced exclusively for the official judicial system. Some of them fell out of their hands, yes, but enough for the Butcher to toss them so easily? Raven said he'd killed eight people last time with the same MO, so it didn't seem like this guy had any trouble getting his hands on these things.

Yuri recalled the false-Flynn's interrogation of Pherick, demanding to know what he'd done with the supply of handcuffs he'd stolen. The impostor must have suspected Pherick had sold the cuffs to the Butcher, but that had turned out to be a false lead. That box of missing cuffs went to a bondage shop, so unless the Butcher did his shopping there… which might actually be the case, so Yuri made a note to send Leblanc over there. At the very least, imagining Leblanc's face in a store full of the most imaginative toys made by man would be worth it.

Assuming that was a bunk lead, where else could someone get their hands on a large supply of Knight equipment? Or, perhaps the question was, who had access to a large supply of Knight equipment?

Repede nudged Yuri's leg and he looked down. The dog was sniffing the ground again and started walking. Of course, the trail hadn't gone dead yet. Stopping to dispose the evidence had just been a pit-stop. Yuri was getting his hopes up of following the trail right to the Butcher's door when their path took them out on a major street. Repede whined and paced in circles, before turning to Yuri and sitting with a huff.

Yuri rubbed Repede's head. "It's ok. With all these people, horses, and carts going by, it's no wonder the trail went cold. You did a good job. I guess we should head back down to the lower quarter and see about finding Flynn, huh?"

Repede barked, and the pair turned around to begin looking for a new trail.

Flynn leaned against a wall in the lower quarter, arms folded. Rain drizzled beyond the overhanging roof. So far, today had not been a good day. He'd woken up in good spirits, planning to start the day right with the execution of the Yuri substitute, but that had all gone wrong. As soon as he arrived at the castle and found knights scrambling all over the place, he'd known something went wrong.

And then he'd heard that the Butcher had struck again last night. A young boy from the lower quarter. Flynn had told himself he left the castle to begin some field work of his own, but he couldn't deny that at least part of it was that the fresh breeze and air that reeked of dead worms and damp soil helped drive away thoughts of gore-slicked streets and blood soaked knees. At the very least, he couldn't risk letting any of his subordinates see him cry.

The Flynn of this world spoke of morality and justice, but Flynn questioned what purpose a concept like morality had in a world so full of violence and tragedy. Right and wrong? The world hardly cared about that. Just look at life beyond the barriers: monsters tore each other apart for survival, and it was human arrogance to think they were more than a single step above that. It wasn't that Flynn thought humans were inherently evil; he just didn't think they were inherently good, either. What humans were was inherently a creature spat out into the amoral chaos of nature, that had carved a place for itself at the top of the ladder through cunning and strength, and then had the gall to turn around and claim there was some greater ideal of right and wrong. Ethics were just an idea invented by the weak to convince the strong not to hurt them, and the only justice in the world was what you carved out for yourself. If there was an ounce of morality inherent to the structure of the world, it would never have allowed men like the Butcher to exist.

The Butcher could not be allowed to live, and it wasn't because of some hoity-toity idea about him deserving to die as punishment for hurting people. It was simple: Flynn did not want to live in a world alongside men like him. The best any man could do in the world was decide what he wanted it to look like and then do whatever it took to achieve that. Alexei had taught him that, before he, too, was snuffed out. Flynn couldn't bring him back, and he couldn't bring Yuri back, but he could do whatever it took to make a tomorrow they might be proud of. He was going to drag this world into a less-awful tomorrow, kicking and screaming if he had to.

Tracking down the Butcher was proving to be difficult. He had a leg up over the other Knights investigating, because he already knew some key information. He knew the man was a noble, for one. He also knew exactly what he looked like, so once Flynn saw his face, he wouldn't bother finding evidence. Flynn wasn't going to deal with the process of a trial; it would be more satisfying to kill him personally. He also knew the Butcher used handcuffs to subdue his victims, but so far he hadn't had any luck pursuing that thread. He'd visited the shop Pherick had sold his stolen goods to yesterday, but the majority of those cuffs were still in the shop. The few pairs that had been sold went to residents of the lower and public quarters, and a visit to the buyers proved they had nothing to do with this. None of them had the Butcher's face, none of them had connections to a noble, none of them had sold the pair they bought. The little rat Pherick had been a dead end.

"Flynn?" A small voice interrupted his thoughts.

When he looked up, he saw a boy standing a few feet away, rain pressing his brown hair to his head. "Shouldn't you be inside?"

The boy scuffed his foot in a puddle. "I guess. I just… I needed to get out. What are you doing here?"

The kid was speaking to him rather familiarly, considering he was the commandant. Flynn quickly put together that he was supposed to know this boy.

"It's just…" The boy approached Flynn's impromptu shelter. He mumbled to the ground, "I can't stop thinking about Michael."

Ah. He'd met this kid before on a walk through the lower quarter, and then interrogated the other Flynn on how he was supposed to know him. It was Ted, some child who was fond of the Yuri and Flynn of this world.

"Why'd someone have to kill him? He never hurt nobody. He was playing at my house late, and then he said he was going home, but I guess he - he didn't make it." Ted rubbed his eyes again and quickly turned away.

Flynn closed his eyes for a second and tried to fight back the past. "It was bad luck, Ted. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time." In his pocket, he felt the weight of the one gald coin. The course of the world could change by a decision as arbitrary as the flip of a coin.

"I know, but… but… why did it have to be him?! It isn't fair!"

Flynn let out a long breath and then wrapped an arm around Ted's shoulders. He pulled Ted against his side, but Ted quickly gave up pretences of being tough and twisted to press his face into Flynn's chest.

"I m-m-miss him. And my mom told me not to, but I went close to the alley even though the knights w-were there to block it. And I s-s-saw…."

The body of his best friend, looking so small and broken. Flynn wrapped both arms around Ted's shoulders and squeezed as he sobbed. "I know, Ted. I know."

"I w-wish Yuri was here. Did… did he really kill that lady? Th-the one M-M-Michael and I found?"

Flynn looked down at the top of the boy's head with a frown. "As far as I know, yes."

Ted sobbed again and balled his fists around Flynn's uniform. "I c-can't believe Yuri would… she musta been a bad p-person, right?"

"I don't know." He wanted to say that Lenore had been totally innocent and Yuri must be a madman, because convincing other people that Yuri must be stopped would make him feel better. But, he knew exactly how Ted was feeling right now and couldn't bring himself to make it worse. "When we catch him again, you can ask him."

"I don't want Yuri to die. E-even if he did kill her. I don't want anyone else to die."

Flynn just rubbed Ted's back and let him cry himself out. "It's going to be ok, Ted."

"H-how do you know? Everything is a-a-all messed up."

Flynn pulled away from Ted so he could crouch and rest his hands on Ted's shoulders. "Because life goes on. Life is full of tragedies, and you just have to get used to it." He could tell by Ted's face that this was not reassuring. "It's like getting a cut. It hurts, and it stings, and every time you move it twinges again and you can't stop thinking about how much it hurts. But you can live with it, Ted. No one has ever died from pain alone. Eventually it will scar over, and it won't hurt so constantly anymore - only when you think about it, only when you let it. This world we live in is going to leave you with lots of scars. No one makes it out of this place unscathed. That's why we have to be tough, and that's why we have to look after the people we care about, because you can be sure nothing else in the world will."

"I… I don't think I am tough. Not like you or Yuri."

"I wasn't tough when I was your age, either, but you're going to grow from this. Now that you've felt this pain, anything milder will be child's play."

"R-really?"

Flynn nodded. "Yes. You'll live through this, and you'll be stronger for it. Your friend will always be with you in your memories."

Ted rubbed his face again. "Y-yeah… I guess you're right…."

"I think you should go home. Your mother is probably worried about you."

"O-ok…." He sniffled again. "Thanks, Flynn."

Flynn gave Ted one more quick hug. "You'll be all right."