THE NIGHTMARE - FACET II
Maxwell sat in a bed, with a lap-tray over his thighs. On it was a simple bowl of basil and lentil soup. The bed was nice, a bit firmer than he liked, but he wasn't about to complain. The soft cotton sheets were light, and the brownish-red duvet was nice and warm.
He was wear a pair of tan pyjamas. They didn't itch and they had that quality of freshness you come to expect with an inn. Which he supposed was an expectation of royalty.
…It was honestly more than what he had been expecting.
Maxwell had been set up in one of the guest rooms of the palace. There, he had a view of the bailey courtyard and and battlements. The grass was mowed, the paths were gravel, and several hedges lined both the walls and walkways. Beyond the battlements was the sea. Creamy Mist Castle was apparently an island to itself, connected by drawbridges to the main land.
A shame he couldn't appreciate the view though. It was well past sunset, and the courtyard was lit by torchlight.
His room was spacious enough, considering he had been sharing a room with 8 guys. The room had cabinet wardrobe, containing sheets for the curtained bed. A wash basin with a mirror hung on the wall, with pitcher of water. Then there was the privy behind another door in the corner. Maxwell hadn't looked at it yet, but he half expected a glittering washroom with white fosets, a tub, and toilet.
…He honestly wasn't sure what to make of all this.
Here he was, sitting in the lap of luxury, while his friends were all who-knows-where.
Maxwell had recently undergone surgery for his left arm, and he was thankful for it. That was partially why he was in this bed. The king had personally instructed his physician to set up for the operation, and the doctor was quirky enough to get it done right away.
He had been asleep for most of it. They had drugged Maxwell with a sedative as they tied rubber tubes to constrict his arteries. Maxwell barely remembered falling asleep. Next thing he knew, he was lying in bed with bandages wrapped around his left arm, and the crystal cap was gone.
Maxwell, after working through his grogginess, had immediately started performing a healing spell. It wasn't that he didn't trust the surgeon…
Actually, scratch that, he didn't trust the surgeon. He wasn't ungrateful, but a royal suddenly offering him medical care and a room was still suspicious. They had taken his armor, his foci, and his severed hand while he was under. It was only a miracle he managed to have his fist clenched around Rayleigh's vivre card, and not let it go.
Anyways, the magic penetrated the bandages. He could feel the prickly sensation of his flesh melding together, but it was slower then he would have liked.
Afterwards, he took of the bandages revealing a handspan length of forearm. A smooth stump with a patchy white line around the base. They must have shaved away a few grams of flesh, removed some bone, then stitched the "v" shaped incision together to create the seam. He wrapped the bandages back on him afterward. Maxwell may be healed but the wound was still fresh, and he remembered Chopper's lessons enough to know how to keep things sanitized.
The maid had soon found him awake soon after that, and brought him the soup. It wasn't too bad… but that just made him miss Sanji's cooking. Bastard though he was… Max slurped up another spoonful of lentil soup.
There was a knock on the door.
"Come in!" Maxwell replied, and King Cello then entered the room, followed by a maid and butler.
The butler was a hunchback, surprisingly enough, dressed in a black and white tuxedo, and holding a chair. He set it down beside the bed, while the maid took away his empty bowl and tray. They then immediately left the room, leaving Maxwell alone with the king.
"…Good morning," the king greeted him. "Apologies, we didn't introduce ourselves earlier. I am King Aedan Duran Cello the IV, ruler of the Creamy Mist Archipelago. You have our condolences about your hand."
"…Thank you," Maxwell nodded towards the king, appreciating the sympathy, if a little forced. "You're very generous to treat me a well as you have. I am most grateful."
Cello smiled, leaning back in his chair, "So you do know some of the subtleties of being a noble. Good, we can speak plainly then. I expect you have questions."
Three questions came to mind. But Maxwell decided to ask this one first, "…Where in the world am I, exactly?" You'd think that would be a simple question, but there are no land marks when you're flying over the ocean.
"You are, again, in the Creamy Mist Archipelago. We're situated approximately halfway through the Grand Line, in Paradise," Cello replied. "We ARE affiliated with The World Government, but you won't have to worry about any marines, for now."
Maxwell stiffened, suddenly remembering Ace's execution deadline. "Are they not patrolling the archipelago right now?" They were much more preoccupied with Aces execution.
"Only a handful are still at the marine base. Low ranking officers and chore-boys mostly."
"Okay…" Maxwell nodded, briefly thinking about navigation and how to get back to Sabaodey. "What exactly did I interrupt when I landed? It looked like you guys were in the middle of a festival."
King Cello huffed in amusement, "No harm done, Mr. Maxwell. It was just the opening ceremonies to our nation's Treasure Wars Festival. Your arrival did interrupt my speech, but the festivities will continue regardless. I already have a herald continue in my stead."
Maxwell grimaced. Was disrupting the festival intentional on Kuma's part? …Who knew what was going through that Warlord's head.
However, saying that the king didn't go back, brought up another question, "…Who was that woman? In the square—"
"Ah yes… Her." The king sighed as if thinking back on better time. "Once upon a time, her name was Solona Elessia von Helsing. But now it's just Helsing, or how she prefers to be referred to now a days. She was my niece, but due to circumstances she is no longer in line for the throne."
"Was your brother the heir?" Maxwell asked. Most nobles he knew didn't exactly care about relatives unless there was some sort of business transaction going on… However, to be fair, Maxwell may have been colouring his perceptions based of his birth family.
"No. But as I am currently without any children, Solona was expected to be the next in line. Unfortunately, my sister and her husband were both killed in an accident, many years ago, so many of my subjects believe Solona to be the one to have caused it."
"Since then, she has turned to a life of…" Cello mashed his lips as if trying to find the right word, "…delinquency. Solona fancies herself a pirate, sailing around the archipelago and bullying our citizens. However, she has only been little more than just a nuisance, till late. The marines and I had tried several methods to bring her back in line, but she has been amazingly adept at avoiding capture."
"Sounds like a rebel," Maxwell commented.
"Yes, she is…" Cello's face slowly turned into a frown, "And I suppose that brings up why we saw her in the square."
"…The assassination attempt," Maxwell replied carefully. "The one meant on your life."
"Yes…" Cello sighed. "My guards have successfully identified the assailants as members to the Children of Nightmare cult. They have been a plague on our island for a while now. Nobles and commoners alike have been harassed by their fanatics, and we have evidence to implicate them behind several robberies, and 4 different kidnappings. However, whenever these cultists are confronted, multiple reports state how they used smoke to escape, even when they were surrounded and escape should have been impossible."
"So this cult is acting like some out of control thieves guild," the mage guessed. Maxwell, admittedly, didn't know a lot about cults. The Chantry did exactly allow much in terms of religious diversity. There was the Chantry, the Qun, the Daleish Elvhen gods, and the Stone. Anything else was considered barbaric or beneath academic study at the Circle.
The only time Maxwell ever heard of a cult of prevalence was when the Temple of Sacred Ashes was discovered. A dragon worshipping cult had settled into the temple, trying to reach the funeral urn containing the ashes of Andraste herself. The cult was foiled by the Hero of Feraldin when she, and her party, went in search of the sacred ashes, during the Fifth Blight. There was only one reported use of that reliquary. When they were used to restore Arl Eamon to health. However the urn has been missing ever since.
"Oh no, I'm afraid it's worse than that," Cello shook his head. "In the very few cases where there were reports combat, multiple assailants have been described to have been using their own blood to fight." Maxwell stiffed at that description. "And we have identified that it was not just a single fighter using this ability. Men and women have both been reported to use it, and the Children of Nightmare have used their blood to kill."
"Crap," Maxwell mumbled. Maleficar.
"This, added with the mysterious powder at their disposal, we can only conclude they are using magic of some sort. As far as I know, no one Devil Fruit can be shared amongst multiple people. And now, with young Solona mixed up in these events, I'm afraid I must resort to desperate measures. My current solution… Is to employ you."
Maxwell blinked and pointed to himself, "Me?"
"You are a sorcerer are you of some renown are you not? With multiple demons at your command? One of them was reported to have sunken seven marine battleships with your conflict at Enies Lobby."
Right. The king only knew Maxwell by reputation. Even if the charges on his wanted poster were exaggerated… Okay, maybe not the gunships, but everything else was—King Cello only knew of him as a heretical pirate, subordinate to a infamous pirate,
"You see, I want this cult to be taken care of quickly and quietly, you understand. If I begin a series of raids among my islands, I risk the cult going underground. Never to be seen again, until they reemerge and begin more trouble. I figure, the best way to fight a group of sorcerers, is to have a sorcerer yourself."
"I…" Maxwell was stunned. He was being asked for help, by a king no less, to hunt down Maleficarum! It was a flattering prospect. However…
"…Under normal circumstances, I would more than love to help you with this cult. My culture has a particular stigma against blood magic. But…"
"You wish to reunite with your captain and crew," The king stated.
"…Yes."
Maxwell wouldn't deny it, not now. He much rather be with the rest of the crew, having adventures. They had made it so far now…
"…Very well. Then I will present to you this ultimatum." Cello sat up straight in his chair, addressing the mage formally.
"Find the Children of Nightmare, before the end of the Treasure Wars. You will have all my resources at your disposal. Food, money, information. Should you succeed, I will arrange a ship for you to travel to the point of your destination. Fail, or refuse, then I will turn you in to the marines myself."
A chill went up Maxwell's spine. "What!? But—"
"I only have so much patience, Mr. Trevelyan." Cello's face was as expressionless as a statue. "I need you as much as you need me right now, so make your choice. Help us, or go into the dungeon."
Maxwell's lips turned into a thin line under his moustache. "…Very well. I'll accept."
"Splendid," King Cello then rose from his seat. "A maid will be by later, to return your weapons and possessions. However, a new set of clothes will be laid out for you. I'm afraid your old attire was deemed unusable, by both my armour and my tailor."
Maxwell remembered. The gambeson had been filled with holes from their encounter with Sentomaru and the Pacifistas. He knew for a fact he needed a new gauntlet, and that his chainmail had been torn. Weren't the pants and boots still good tough?
Cello then opened a window. It turned like a seesaw, allowing a gap to open. A bird then flew in, landing on the windowsill. It was a massive frigate bird, with white feathers, black trimming, and black crest upon its chest. A red and gold collar hung around its neck, with a little pendant that Maxwell assumed was the kingdom's coat of arms. The bird's eyes held an scary amount of intelligence.
"This is Karasu," Cello gestured to the bird. "He will be your handler during your time here. Any reports you have will be written and handed to him. Karasu will also be reporting your movements to me, so if you attempt to flee the country I WILL know about it."
Great. He had a Templar escort again… And this one wasn't even human!
"I'll leave you two to get acquainted." King Cello then began to walk out of the room, but stopped just as he opened the door. "Oh, and the matter about your severed hand. My physician asked what you would like done with it."
Maxwell thought about it for a moment. He never really had to deal with a severed limb before.
"…Keep it on ice for now. I'l make a decision what to do with it after this 'Childern of Nightmare,' business is done."
Cello smiled, "Good man. Until later, Mr. Maxwell."
The king closed the door behind him.
…It as times like these, he wished people would refer to him by his last name. The most common spelling here had surnames written first. Maxwell looked at the bird, Karasu, in the window. "I don't suppose you can talk, can you?"
*SQAWK.*
"Yeah, I thought not…" The mage sighed. He had his work cut out for him.
O O O
"OPEN THE GATE!" a guardsman called out to the barbican. "THE KING'S GUEST IS LEAVING!"
Chains an mechanical gears began to churn inside the bastion. The portcullis rose and the drawbridge began to lower. It connected to another drawbridge. Both sides descended until they were both connected, and the road to the rest of Maruchi Island was open.
Maxwell waited for the gates to open. He was now in a long green over-jacket, with a white collared shirt, black pants, and a pair of brown dress shoes. Maxwell wasn't sure what the king's tailor was thing when he got this, but it was NOT meant for combat! There no layers! No plating! He felt naked! There hasn't been a day gone by when Maxwell wasn't wearing some sort of armor on his person. Even his old robes had more protection then this monkey suit!
Then, he had to carry all his foci in a bag! There was no holster for his weapon. And all the rings and clasps he had for his foci were gone! Thrown out, he was told. Thank the Maker they hadn't found the vivre card! He would have been pissed if that had been lost!
But, speaking of pissed…
THEY SHAVED HIS BEARD!
IT WAS MORE THAN JUST THE F****** MAID! THOSE C*** S****** M***** F****** BASTARDS RUSHED INTO HIS ROOM, STRAPPED HIM IN A CHAIR, THEN STARTED TO GROOM HIM! YOU COULD SEE HIS F****** CHIN! HE WORKED 3 YEARS TO CULTIVATE THAT BEARD AND MOUSTACHE! AND HE KEPT THEM TRIMMED AND GROOMED THE ENTIRE TIME!
WHY!?
(Maxwell did in act have high cheek bones, a perfect jawline, and jutting chin. With his prolific nose and long chin, it made him look more and more like a titular warlock. His cheeks and jaw were paler then the rest of his skin. An obvious tan line around his face, from having his beard moustache for so long.)
AT LEAST THEY LEFT HIS F****** HAIR ALONE! IF HE KNEW THAT BOWL WAS THERE FOR A F****** BARBER SESSION, HE WOULD HAVE CHUCKED IT OUT THE WINDOW!
…It rankled his nerves, being so exposed. BUT, he had to put up with it. The king required subtlety for this mission and Maxwell had approximately 9 days to find the Children of Nightmare.
"…They could have left my f****** beard alone though," Maxwell stomped through the gate. At least the clothes fit. He's been given a temporary prosthetic so people wouldn't stare at his sleeve. Better for going unnoticed into a crowd, he was told. "What a load of pigshit…!"
"Halt!" Maxwel stopped and groaned as he heard a voice behind him. It was pretentious guard captain again, Commander Bellos. Maxwell turned around and watched as the soldier strut up towards him.
"Can I help you, ser?" Maxwell asked behind gritted teeth.
"Hmph," Bellos scowled. If Maxwell have seen his face, he'd have imagined Bellos sticking his nose in the air. "I just wanted to see the results for myself. How the mighty have fallen…"
Maxwell's eye twitched. He did not have time to trade insults with some Orlesian peacock! "I take it you've been informed of my task…?"
"Yes, yes… You are to route out the Children of Nightmare. A simple task. One much more suited to those of higher authority."
Maxwell thinned his lips, "Mhm… And tell me, how long has this 'simple task' been a thorn in your side?" The guard captain immediately froze when he heard that question. "If it has been so simple, then it will be miraculous for a foreigner like me to foil them."
"You are not just some mere foreigner, pirate!" Bellos stomped up to Maxwell and pointed a finger in the mage's face.
"I've dealt with scum like you for years! You have no interest in this island, and do not pretend you do otherwise! Your kind only take, and take—! His majesty will be made a fool for trusting you!"
"Then it is a good thing I do not have the king's full trust," Maxwell responded coolly, not like this man's attitude. "Otherwise he would not have a watcher on me…!"
The mage nodded his head towards one of the battlements. There on a parapets sat Karasu, watching them intently. "…Hmph. Just as it should be."
Bellos turned back to look at the mage, "Watch yourself, Magister. When you see something that catches your eye—something you should never have; Mark my words, I WILL be the one to arrest you!"
"Then it's a good thing your island offers me nothing. Beyond a boat I can sail away on. Good day, ser." Maxwell then turned around and walked off towards the mainland.
"I'm watching you, Trevelyan!" Bellos shouted behind him. "You and every lowlife that dares pollute our islands! Watch you back!"