I DO NOT OWN ANY CHARACTERS CREATED BY THE AUTHOR OF BLACK BUTLER NOR THE ORIGINAL STORYLINE.
It was only half past noon by the time Wolfram had reached downtown Canebrook. Canebrook was the closest town to the mansion and if he wanted information on the neighbors, he would have to begin interrogating here. Covering a large yawn, he stopped at the mouth of Main Street to survey his surroundings. Today, Main Street was bustling with heaps of commoners due to the fact that it was the long awaited Sunday Market. Petite tents were lined up along the cobblestone walkway and entertainers were tripping head over heels causing hoots and giggles to bubble up in the crowd. One performer was a juggler, and as Wolfram saw it, was only making a fool out of himself. Brilliant colors were painted across his snowy skin and a yellow peasant top draped itself across his body. His trousers were baggy, but they were a gentle blue that complimented the yellow to a T.
Wolfram grunted distastefully and removed his gaze from the silly old man. Commoners would become anyone's dog or do anything just to get a shilling or two. He didn't want to spend his afternoon wasting his time with muttonheads like them.
"Now then, where should I begin?" Wolfram questioned himself, trying to spot someone or something that he could squeeze information out of. That's when he spied an innocent young woman standing near an antique vender, drooling over a minute elephant figurine. Judging by her clothes she was a commoner, and a plain one at that. However, the antique seller was trying to con her into purchasing the elephant figurine and he suddenly formed a plan.
Striding over to the olive green tent, Wolfram stopped a few feet short from the vender to try and eavesdrop on all of the nonsense he was spewing at the gullible woman. Apparently, the figurine was originally from Africa over 100 years ago, and belonged to a famous shaman who had used its "great powers" to heal all ailments from the village. After the shaman died, it was used by many others, but none could summon its internal power. So it had finally ended in the vender's hands so he could see if anyone here could "summon its great power". Then the sly vender began to spout stuff to her about maybe she could summon the power. Wolfram tapped his foot in impatience and finally gave into his better half.
Slowly, he approached the woman and nodded at her respectfully. She raised her head and her eyes glittered in amazement at Wolfram's elegant attire and cleanliness. Wolfram regarded her and frowned; she seemed just like a kid in a sweets shop, gazing at him all starry eyed.
"May I borrow this for a second?" he asked, referring to the elephant figurine. She seemed honored that he had even addressed her and her cheeks warmed to a bright peach pink.
"Of c-course," she stammered, bowing her head and presenting the trinket to him. Wolfram plucked it from her shaking hands and brought it up to his face. It seemed fine on the top, but when he turned it over he found what he was looking for. On the base, etched in wood were the manufacturer and a date that couldn't be further away from the vender's lies. He recognized the manufacturer to be an old Chinese firm that was well known for making cheap items and the date marked wasn't even 100 years old; it was only from 1876, 8 years ago. From there, he proceeded to drop the trinket on the ground and place his foot on it.
"Oi! What do you think you're doing?" the vender yelled, leaning over his stand to glare at Wolfram. The woman let out a horrified gasp and took a step back, which seemed like overkill to Wolfram. He turned to the woman and gazed at her directly in the eye.
"At most, this thing is worth 5 shillings," was all Wolfram said before crushing it under his shined black boot. The vender hopped over his stand and rushed toward Wolfram, his right fist raised as a declaration of war. However, the perturbed glare Wolfram gave him stopped him in his tracks and made him put his tail between his legs and scamper back behind his counter. That had taken longer than he had thought.
Hesitantly, the woman advanced in Wolfram's direction and halted behind him. Hearing her feet shuffling against the ground, Wolfram turned around and waited for her to choke her words out. Twiddling her thumbs, she began to speak in an unstable voice that seemed nervous and embarrassed.
"Thank you…," she rasped then trailed off, trying to find what else she could say to the handsome gentlemen that stood in front of her. Wolfram placed his gloved hand on her shoulder- he would have to wash it later because it was touching commoner clothes –and gave her a weak smile that seemed fake and forced.
"Actually, I have a question to ask you," Wolfram said, crouching down a bit so he could see her eye to eye. Her body tensed under the warmth of his hand and she slid her eyes up from the ground to meet his. It was like she was bracing herself for the impact of his question.
"Do you know who lives in the elaborate mansion about 17 kilometers from here?" he pressed her, squeezing her shoulder for dramatic effect. She seemed to ponder the question and then nodded her head vigorously.
"In fact I do! I believe the last name is Phantomhive," she said with such confidence that Wolfram couldn't help but grin with approval. Maybe they weren't so useless after all. Taking his hand off her shoulder, he grunted and stood back up to his original height. That was all he needed to know and he could piece the rest together on his own. Turning his back on her, he winked and strolled down the street toward home.
…
Lycloris was bored. She lay on her bed, observing the ceiling and tracing the intricate patterns with her eyes. Her pomegranate red hair was fanned out around her and her legs were swinging like metronomes off the side of the bed. It was already half past two and she hadn't moved an inch since Rin had decided to use her sleeping gown as a scratching post when she was still fast asleep. The day seemed to drag on forever and it had become even worse when Lorelei had notified her of Wolfram's absence from the household. She stuck out her lip and pouted, wondering why he hadn't taken her with him. It was just like him to leave her out of important matters since he still considered her as a child.
The sound of a chair skidding against wooden floor panels came from above her. Following that was the continuous sound of dress shoes clicking on the floor, fading as the person made their way out of the vicinity. It was probably her father, Master Balthazar, moving around the study. Her father was an inventor and he had made lots of money for his ideas. It was rare from him to come out of the study nowadays due to the growing demand of new technology. Hardly anything interrupted him so it must be important that he would go as far as leaving his sagging red leather chair.
As she thought harder and harder about it, she became curious as to what had occurred. Curling her toes, she lifted herself up from her fluffy bed sheets and leaped off of the mattress. Her feet made a muted thump and she pattered up to the door. Grasping the knob, she turned it until it clicked and opened the door with caution. Peering into the hall, she came to the conclusion that it was desolate of people and she stepped onto the cold wood flooring in the hall. She left her door slightly cracked as she didn't want to close it because it would just make more noise. Before she could tip toe her way to the main hall, she picked up a hushed conversation in a room about two doors down from her bedroom.
She scowled and then she remembered that the room where the voices resounded from was reserved for meetings with guests. Her curiosity grew and she made her way down the hall so she stood in front of the door. She couldn't make out what the voices were saying, but she could tell that the deeper one was most definitely her father's. The other one was quite distinctive as well, but not recognizable. Lowering herself to the ground, she pressed her eye against the peephole in the door. When she looked through she only saw her father's ebony black hair and liquid gold eyes. Today he seemed to be wearing his black leather eye patch, but that's not what concerned her. A stern look of loathing painted his face as he was glowering at someone across from him. The man across from him was mostly hidden by the door frame due to the fact that the peephole only allowed her so much viewing space.
That's when she saw it. On the stranger's finger was something she thought she would never lay her eyes on again. As soon as she spied the object, she knew exactly who the other person in the room was. Her heartbeat sped up and she crumpled up on the floor in grief.
"Why?" she asked herself before she completely blacked out from the shock.