Into the Dawn - Chapter Three

Miles woke alone the following morning.

He roused slowly, in no hurry as it was a Saturday and he had no excess work to do. Sunlight fell across his face, and thus he had to shield his eyes when he opened them until they adjusted. As the memories of the previous night returned to him, he felt his heart sink a little when he looked to the empty spot on the bed beside him. He was - of course - accustomed to waking up alone, but this morning he wished that could be different.

Oh well, he had chosen this path; he would learn to accept what it meant. Maybe, somewhere down the line, he could come up with a way to change things.

Wait...

A wry smile played at his lips as he realized what he was thinking, what it meant. It didn't really surprise him: he'd pined over Phoenix Wright for years. He wasn't about to settle for a one-night-stand or a fling. Still a bit groggy, he turned onto his side to look at the alarm clock on his nightstand: Eight-thirty - a reasonable time.

He then noticed something else. Beside the clock lay a scrap of paper, and the smile tugged at his lips again as he reached over to pick it up. He had learned to recognize Phoenix's handwriting. It wasn't exactly the neatest, but it was legible and had a certain... charm to it, if that made any sense at all.

"Miles,

I'm sorry I can't be there when you wake up, but last night was wonderful. I'll see you tonight when the sun goes down, and we can talk about it then, if you want to.

Phoenix

P.S. I set the timer on the coffee pot. Thought you might need it."

Miles set the note down and flopped back against his pillows, closing his eyes as he thought about Phoenix, about last night. He'd had so many reservations, so many reasons to be hesitant and even afraid, but all had eventually been banished. He had believed in Wright, in his ability to control himself, and that faith had been rewarded. Yes, that encounter had been much rougher than he would have expected back when Phoenix was a living man, but he had to admit to himself that he had enjoyed that, too.

He always had to be in control of every aspect of his life, from investigations to everything he said or did. It was... refreshing to give control over to someone else for a change and not have to worry about the consequences. He trusted Phoenix, as shown by putting his very life in the other man's hands only hours before.

After lazing around for another half hour, Miles dragged himself out of bed and into the shower. He had expected some bruises or marks left over from their activities, but he supposed the drops of blood he'd been given had healed those. After washing, he shaved, combed out his hair, and put on a fluffy red bathrobe. He could dress later if he had cause.

It was as he sat in the living room with a mug of hot coffee and scrolling through the latest news on his laptop that his phone began to ring. He frowned in irritation, wondering who could be calling him this early on a Saturday. However, irritation melted away when he saw the identity of the caller. His heart sank.

"Good morning, Ms. Fey."

"Hey, Mr. Edgeworth!" On the surface, the young Master of Kurain sounded as chipper as ever, but he knew better. He knew why she was calling, and it was nothing to be cheery about. "Sorry to bug you so early in the morning, but-"

"My apologies, Ms. Fey, but I have nothing new for you. I would call you if I did." He was doing his best not to get frustrated with her. She was sick with worry, even after nearly a year, and hated merely waiting around in desperate hope for some news. What was worse? He was lying to her and had been for six months now. It was fortunate she had yet to ask him face-to-face; he clearly recalled that... strange gemstone she possessed that detected lies: psycho-locks, right?

"O-oh..." The disappointment in her voice was tangible, and he wondered how she kept getting her hopes up each and every time she called him. "A-are you sure? Nothing at all? Nick couldn't have just... disappeared into thin air."

Miles drew his lower lip in through his teeth. "Believe me, i have been dong everything in my power, using every resource at my disposal to find Wright, but no leads have surfaced. It... does seem as though he simply vanished, though I know that cannot be the case. Nevertheless, I... do not expect there will be any evidence left after this much time has passed..."

"W-what!?" Miles winced, mentally kicking himself. "How can you say that?! Mr. Edgeworth, everyone else has given up! You can't give up, too! When you were in trouble, Nick believed in you 'til the very end! You have to do the same for him, okay? You and I are the only ones he has left, and I can't do anything up here!"

"Please, forgive me," he muttered, shaking his head though she could not see it. "I did not mean to sound as if I have given up. It is simply difficult to hold onto hope in such a situation, but I will keep trying. I gave my word, did I not?"

There was a brief silence from the other end of the line, then a sigh. "Yeah, sorry... I know you won't break your promise. I'm just... I'm so worried about Nick. What could have happened to him?"

You wouldn't believe me if I told you... "I don't know, Ms. Fey, but I still intend to find out. Should I find even the smallest sign of his whereabouts or his fate, you will be the first to know."

"Thanks... Guess I'll let you go."

"Goodbye, Ms. Fey." Miles took his phone away from his ear and tapped the screen to end the call before setting it aside. He leaned his head back against the armrest with a heavy sigh, letting his eyes fall shut and rubbing his temples. Everyone else in the district had given up the search, and while this had annoyed him at first, it had become a source of relief after what he had learned. It meant he didn't have to keep up pretense so often, but there was one person who absolutely refused to quit. Maya Fey was a true friend to Wright, and thus, he had to constantly lie to her, pretend he was still searching with no results. A selfish part of him wanted to be irate with her, to tell her to just give it up and move on, but he had more compassion than that. The poor girl had lost so many people in recent years, and so he understood why she absolutely refused to accept losing another.

Sometimes hope, even false hope, was all that kept a person going. He'd gotten a taste of what that felt like half a year ago.

As the day wore on, Miles realized he didn't know what to do with himself. It wasn't a problem he was used to having. There was always something to do: cleaning, organizing, casework, or just a bit of reading. Today, he didn't feel like doing any of it. After a brief bit of self-analysis, he concluded that all he really wanted to do was spend more time with Phoenix. He momentarily considered going down into the basement to just sit with him, but he shook off the idea; he didn't want to disturb the undead man's rest.

He forced himself against his lethargy to get dressed and go do a bit of grocery shopping, but that only took about an hour. Being that it was summer, Wright wouldn't be awake until the time Miles normally retired for the evening. That was a discouraging thought: they had really only just begun to get close, and it happened to be when they would be able to spend the least amount of time together.

That night found him lying on the couch once more, watching an unsettling news story about some recent disappearances. Knowing what he knew now, he began to wonder if these incidents could have anything to do with vampires, and then began to muse about past ambiguous kidnapping or murder cases. How many incidents had actually been caused by vampires, made to look like accidents or pinned on someone else? As a prosecuting attorney, it made him extremely uneasy to think about, and he was in the process of reaching for the remote to change the channel when the doorbell rang.

Miles had always hated receiving visitors at night. It was usually just some kids from the neighborhood having gone to the wrong house or having lost something of theirs over his backyard fence, but it had always made him anxious. That news report he'd been watching certainly wasn't helping, and so he was extremely tense as he made his way to the front door. It was too dark to see anything through the peep hole, so he just unlocked the bolt and pulled the door open halfway.

He was met with an unexpected sight: a professional-looking man in a three-piece suit. He appeared to be in his late thirties, with neatly-combed brown hair, a clean-shaven face, and a nice leather briefcase hanging at his side.

His skin was deathly pale, and his brown eyes seemed alight with inhuman awareness.

"Ah, you must be Miles Edgeworth. I am sorry to bother you this evening, but I have actually come to speak with your Master. Is he in?"

Miles was certain he had gone as pale as the walking corpse that stood before him, his right hand clutching the collar of his shirt just at his throat. Panic was rushing him, and he felt an overwhelming urge to scream. He began to take a step back, but collided with something solid just behind him, making him freeze for an instant.

"Councilor Mason, what an... unexpected surprise." Miles felt a rush of relief that nearly made his knees buckle at hearing Phoenix's voice. A protective arm encircled his waist, keeping him upright while he worked to regain his composure. "I... didn't think anyone knew to find me here."

The man on the front porch gave Phoenix the smile of a politician: practiced yet false. "I admit, it took some time. You just seemed to vanish after Alastair's death. We had to do some digging to find any leads."

Carefully, Phoenix shifted Miles off to the side, moving him to stand back a few paces, out from in between himself and the other vampire. Miles gladly followed this direction, wanting none of this stranger's attention. "And why on earth would you care so much about finding me? You don't think I... killed Alastair, do you?" He sounded nervous, and this made Miles anxious as well.

The well-dressed visitor sighed and shook his head. "No, no, we figured out what happened there. It took some persuading on my part to keep the rest of the Council from pursuing you for the deaths of the other three. I knew Alastair for centuries. He never started trouble, only finished it. I convinced them he would've taught you the same."

Miles couldn't see Phoenix's face, but he could hear the suspicion and mistrust in his voice. "Okay, so why are you here?"

The councilman hesitated, then cleared his throat. "I'd rather not discuss it out in the open like this. May I come in so we might sit and talk properly?"

Phoenix didn't answer immediately, and after a pause, he turned to look back at Miles. The prosecutor expected him to ask permission for the other vampire to enter the house, but that wasn't what happened. "Go upstairs."

Indignation surged, and Miles could feel a glare forming. He was about to add a biting remark and stern refusal to that expression, but Phoenix spoke first.

"Go... upstairs." The look on Phoenix's face sapped the fire right out of him, and Miles took a step back. That look brokered no argument, no questions. He was being expected to obey that order and nothing more. Miles bit his lip, but nodded and turned to leave the foyer, headed for the stairs that would take him up to his bedroom. He wanted to be angry with Phoenix for having the gall to order him around like that, in his own home no less, but logic told him there had been a good reason for it. That visitor was clearly someone important, and according to what he'd said, a much older vampire than Phoenix. This was probably for his own safety; after all, he had less than no desire to be anywhere near more of those creatures.

Miles stepped into the master bedroom and closed the door softly behind him, sighing with resignation. Well, so much for getting to spend time with Phoenix...

Phoenix watched Miles retreat up the stairs and listened for the sound of the bedroom door being shut before he turned back to face the councilman. "Won't you come in, Councilor?" he then offered in a forced tone of politeness, stepping aside to allow the man entry. He decided the dining room would be good enough to sit and chat; the living room just seemed... too intimate.

"It wasn't necessary to send your human away," Councilor Mason remarked as he took a seat at the dining table, setting his briefcase beside the chair. "What i have to tell you might end up concerning him as well."

Phoenix took the seat opposite the councilor, placing his elbows on the table and resting his chin in his hand. "If it does concern him, I'll tell him later myself," he stated, knowing he had to keep up a bit of a facade; he was very glad he'd been able to keep Miles from arguing with him. "Besides, he doesn't do well around others of our kind. The incident with Alastair and the others... nearly cost him his life."

The councilor frowned slightly, then nodded. "I see. Well, let me get down to business, then. I am here at the behest of the Humanist party. Your Maker was quite a powerful voice for our cause, and I've come to offer you a chance to follow in his footsteps."

It was Phoenix's turn to frown. "I've... never really been a fan of politics, Councilman. Sorry to disappoint you."

Mason raised an eyebrow. "You were an attorney in life, were you not?"

"A defense attorney," Phoenix clarified. "I didn't work for the state. I avoided that bureaucratic nonsense as much as possible. Never had a head for it."

The councilor folded his hands atop the table. "Mr. Wright, I'm not here to offer you a seat in government. You've been away from our society for a while now, not that you were too familiar with it in the first place, but things are heating up. The Imperialists are starting to take some... drastic actions, and they look like they are on the verge of revealing our existence to the world in some of the most heinous and despicable ways. Thus, our side must react. We need supporters, strong voices and known faces to represent us when the time comes. As I understand it, you were once well-known and well-loved in this area."

Phoenix reached up to rub the back of his neck. "Uh... 'Well-loved' might be more of a case-by-case description, but, yeah, I guess I was sort of known for a while there."

"You had a certain... charisma, according to what I have seen," Councilor Mason continued. "A way of turning around a bad situation, and a true passion for protecting the weak. If I may speak frankly, Mr. Wright, you are exactly what the Humanist movement needs to counter the damage the Imperialists are bound to cause."

Phoenix lowered his arm, now staring at the man across from him with a sober expression. "Wait... So, you're asking me to be... a figurehead for the entire Humanist movement?" Now that was an unexpected surprise and a very frightening thought. He was barely a year old, and already he was a candidate for such a prominent role in vampire society. He was being given a chance to play a huge part in a world-shattering revelation that would bring vampires out of the shadows, so to speak.

This didn't seem possible...

"Not the sole figurehead," Mason corrected. "We are seeking many personalities, some young and some old, that would be recognizable and trustworthy in the eyes of humans. You would be one of many, but it is looking like the Imperialists in this region might strike first. Your role would be crucial right from the start, if that happens."

So many things were racing through his mind by this point, many of them worries and fears. "Look, I'm just a fledgling. If I speak out for the Humanist movement, I'll be a target. By proxy, so will Miles, and chances are I'm not going to be able to fight whoever they send to shut me up."

Mason gave him an intense look. "We protect our own, Mr. Wright. We are small in number compared to human kind, so we understand that every vampire on our side is an asset, a weapon. We'll make sure you have protection. Besides, do you think that the Imperialists will forget who your Maker was and how many blows he dealt to their cause? It's likely you and your human will be targetted again anyhow. This way, you'll be safer, and you'll have a way to fight against them."

Phoenix grunted in irritation; he knew the man was probably right. Kore, Nina, and Gerald weren't just an isolated trio, and he was certain their deaths would not merely be forgotten. Kore in particular had been a very old, powerful vampire whose support and strength would be sorely missed. Killing him had been Alastair's final blow against those of their kind that embraced their bestial nature.

Slowly, Phoenix leaned back in his chair, staring past the politician while sifting through his thoughts.

"I understand that this isn't a decision you can make so lightly," Mason continued. "I will give you a few days to consider, but I ask that you make your decision before the first of July."

Phoenix returned his gaze to the older vampire's face. "Why? What happens on the first?"

Instead of answering, Mason leaned down to retrieve his briefcase. He unlocked it and plucked a piece of paper from within, sliding it across the smooth tabletop for Phoenix to read. It was an invitation and itinerary for some sort of event. As he scanned the paper, Mason spoke. "We will be holding a... convention, of sorts. There, we will be discussing the very future of our kind and making decisions that could shape the world forever. We will also be discussing how to best crush the Imperialist movement before it can destroy everything we work toward. If they are the first vampires humanity as a whole gets a look at, we could lose any hope we ever had of co-existing. As a potential public face for our movement, I would like you to attend, with your human, if you please."

Phoenix's gaze snapped up from the invitation. "Why does Miles have to be there?"

Mason met his suspicious gaze calmly. "We are supposed to be promoting peace and cohabitation with humans, Mr. Wright. Having a human at your side that appears to trust you reinforces that ideal, wouldn't you say?"

Phoenix sighed, placing a hand against his forehead. "Yeah, I guess you've got a point." He paused for another few seconds, then leaned back in his chair. "All right, I'll think about it. I'm not making any promises, though. This is... kind of a lot to ask of someone, you know?"

Mason nodded. "Of course. I am aware, and I thank you for giving this your consideration. I do hope to see you and your human next weekend. Just... make sure to read the information about the dress code. I don't think you've ever been to this type of gathering before; we have to portray a certain appearance to avoid suspicion, given the way we all look."

With a wry grin, Phoenix nodded. "Yeah, I know. Alastair told me about that."

Giving a curt nod of his own, Councilor Mason stood up, latched his briefcase, and began to move toward the door. "I will leave you to your thoughts and the rest of your night. Good evening, Mr. Wright."

"Councilor."

There was no need to escort the man out, as he was gone in a blink, closing the door behind himself. Phoenix went after him only to flip the deadbolt, and then turned to face the stairs.

He hoped Miles wouldn't be too upset with him for earlier, but he was certain this new development would not please the prosecutor in the slightest. Still... it was an important event, and they could be a part of it. It could also mean the end of all these lies and charades that had been leaving the poor man so stressed and on-edge the past six months.