[BDaSS] Am I Really That Bad? [History]

[Ezrihel]

She drew close, the white haired woman’s gloved hand pulling back into a closed fist. One could even hear the whirring sound of the gauntlet powering itself up for what would be an ungodly strike to land. This had been somewhat of an unavoidable situation for the longest of times, every second of every moment of every hour, week, month and year that came before had lead up to this specific point.

One could say that the man about to get eviscerated had brought it down on himself though his various sins in the past. Whether or not he was deserving didn’t matter all too much though, for it didn’t change the how the trajectory of the fist shifted ever so slightly in its rapid motion to strike the man in the chest.

A loud and wicked sound rang out across the courtyard, the noises like that of a horrible car crash as the woman’s armored fist punched through the chestpiece he wore as protection. Her fist continued, making contact with his flesh, the force of it tearing the skin apart and splintering bones as it pushed through his chest cavity.

He stood, held up only by the support her arm gave his frame. He coughed once, spitting purple blood into her face before a grin creeped across his face. The functioning muscles in his abdomen tensed in joyous laughter as he grabbed onto her arm and pushed it further into his body.

“Do you feel that, hmm my love? I have a heart too, but why don’t you go ahead and rip it out, hmm? Wouldn’t it make for a such a fitting revenge, after all, you said that I tore your’s out~” He closed his eyes, blood continuing to drip from the corners of his mouth, filling it with a sharp and bitter taste. He opened his mouth, letting more of it run. With a pale and delicate looking gloved hand, he reached up and covered his palm and fingers in purple blood before smearing it up her gauntlet and arm.

“Oh does it feel, my dear? Is it just as warm as you remember?” He asked as he used the same hand to cup her face, leaving a bloody hand print on her right cheek.

She sneered with disgust and slapped his hand away, hissing at him to not dare touch her.

“Awwe, you don’t like playing with me anymore, do you?” He inquired to her before laughing once more. “Please, Lilith, do rough me up a bit~”

With that comment she could take no more of his annoying speech. She pushed herself further into his chest and wrapped her digits around around his pulsing heart, braced her other hand on his throat and jerked back, ripping the organ free.

She hadn’t even begun to expect how horrifying his screams were as he fell away from her, like an injured animal he glared at her as he let out a blood curdling yowl of pain. Of course, he had asked for this, but now looking at the damage and gore she had caused, Lilith began to second guess her choices.

The man gave a few short gasps before his body completely stilled, his eyes unfocused and looking up to the high vaulted ceilings of the palace they had fought in. His long blonde hair was sprawled out around his head like an halo of light. His skin, though parts of it stained purple from blood, looked soft and smooth, like that of a porcelain doll. Even in death, as the areas around his eyes grew dark and his lips turned purple, he still appeared hauntingly angelic.

Lilith stood at his feet, looking over his body. He was dead, he was finally dead. She had vanquished her foe, her captor. She was free from her quest of vengeance and reparations, and yet she felt strangely hollow. She hadn’t even expected it to ever have an ending, having never looked beyond the death of the monster before her. In an alien way, she supposed that she had became attached to the thought of forever tracking and trying to take him down.

She glanced from his face, down at her hand. It dripped with indigo colored blood and clutched a still heart. Lifting her hand, she gazed at the dark organ, looking over it before letting it fall from her hand.

He had a heart just like anyone else, it had beat just the same and it had stopped just the same. He had been no different from her in that sense, but something about it seemed to offset her.

She was done here.

Turning around she made to leave. She just wanted to shake this entire experience and wash his blood off of her. It brought much too many memories back to the forefront of her mind, memories she wanted to lay to rest now that he was vanquished from the world. With a heavy mind, she began to unbuckle the scratched up and worn down armor she was wearing.

Clank.

Clank clank.

I’m free.

She removed the armor as quickly as her tired muscles would allow. It was finished, finally completed, she would never have to wear that armor ever again. She had wrapped up this thirty year long chapter of her life and could return to normalcy. She gave a weary sigh and closed her eyes, feeling a soft breeze blow through the open door of the palace.

She simultaneously heard the swish of fabric and felt a gloved hand clamp around her neck. A gasp left her mouth as she felt warm breath fan across her neck and ear.

“You always did know that I like my love rough~” His voice whispered to her, playfully curling at the end.

How? How was he alive? She- She had ripped his heart out of his chest, watched the light fade from his eyes! There wasn’t an possible way that he should still be alive, or could return from death. ... He was a monster, something completely and totally unnatural in her world!

She let out a sharp struggling gasp as his hand tightened.

“Oh? Don’t you just love it when I ring that pretty little neck of yours?” As he mentioned her neck his voice changed from sugary sweet, now being spoken through gritted teeth with a growl.

She felt his other hand snake around her waist, pinning her into place where she stood. With panic, she started to shove against him, trying to escape his clutches, but his hold was surprisingly strong for a would-be dead man, coupled with the fact that he was still in his armor and she had decided to strip out of hers, making the mistake of thinking him dead.

“You should have taken my head off, dearest.” He cooed.

~ * * * ~

Hello. My name is Ezrihel. Now you’re probably wondering what the fuck is going on up above there. Well alright, let me start it out waayyy before the shit hits the fan. Now Lilith, my lovely wife there, who stole my heart,  figuratively and literally, was born the same day as I, and we were great childhood friends. We were in fact, arranged to be married together. Oh, I know the perfect scene to start, let’s roll up the cameras.

So, while my writer listens to a song, I’m going to explain the wonderful mechanics of eavesdropping. You see, all you need are a group of unexpecting guests, in this case a handful of young teenage girls, gossiping their little hearts out in the mid summer heat. Now, being my devious little teenage self (I promise I have grown up since then), I decided to listen in on a little bit, well more like the entirety of their conversation about that fateful day where Lilith would be mine~.  But pardon my interruption, you're not here to listen to me prattle on, you're here for the story! Quite a wonderful story it is too, happy endings all around. The knight in shining armor gets the girl, all is forgiven, and so on. Now, without further ado, enjoy the next scene I have introduced to you…

~ * * * ~

“Well you have heard the rumors, right?” One voice spoke.

“What rumors?” A younger voice sounded.

“Oh, you most certainly have had to have heard- The one about the butler’s nose.” Came the most mature voice.

“No, what happened to the Butler’s nose, Ellie?” The young voice asked again.

“Well, I heard that he used to spend all his days polishing silver, day and night rubbing away at the food utensils in some grandeur castle in England.” The middle voice, Ellie, said.

“And now he can’t smell a thing!” The oldest voice said in mock surprise.

“My my that is such a shame, how does he smell?” The youngest voice chirped empathetically

“Terrible!” The middle voice proclaimed before laughing out loud.

“Such poor taste in humour you have miss-” the most mature voice said with a sigh, “But no apparently it helps the young gentleman with his employment, after all with no sense of smell he needs not smell what he cleans."

“A real shame for such a dashing young man to be struck with an affliction, but that is what so happens in the servant's life I guess." The youngest of the voices stated solemnly.

“Oh, but Lilith, you mustn’t worry so much over the life of just one simple servant, after all, what will you ever do with yourself after you marry Mister Althaus? He has tens of servants, if not a hundred! And certainly... Certainly you wouldn’t drive yourself to worry so heavily about the slaves, either, right?”

“Ah Coraline, you worry much too much~ Of course I wouldn’t worry too much... As long as they are kept out of sight as servants are meant to be~”

“But aside from the servants, well, I’ve been to the Althaus family estate, oh Lilith, how our plantation pales in comparison to the vast swaths of land he holds! However will you find free time for yourself?” Coraline asked.

“What if he’s too busy keeping track of all his estate to care for you, Lilith~” Ellie teased.

“Oh, I’m certain that a man of god such as himself would do his god given duties as husband!” Lilith chimed up with a smile, causing all three of the girls to titter behind large ivory and silk fans.

“Well, we will have to just make certain that our youngest sister looks like a Roman Goddess on her wedding and birthday-”

“How lucky you’ll be! Imagine all the gifts you’ll receive!” Ellie interrupted.

Ugh, girls, and their gossip. The young man ran a hand back through his ashen blonde hair, pushing his bangs out of his face to some extent before sighing. Today, on the plantation at least, life had been boring, and it seemed that life at his fiancee’s estate was also a long drawn out, needlessly humid and muggy drag of an existence. With a soft scoff he righted himself from leaning against the neatly manicured row of hedges he was hiding behind. After having stood up straight, he took a few steps down the garden path.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw something, a figure in a stark black suit turning around the corner and heading away from him. Raising an eyebrow, Ezrihel couldn’t help but look in the direction he had seen the figure. Giving a short second to thought, he decided that he would investigate.

Taking several hurried steps, almost running in fact, he came to the corner, and looked down the long pathway. Much to his unsurprise but disappointment he saw no one on the trail. With a sigh and a flippant hand motion that displayed his slight annoyance at having not found anyone, he turned around.

Only to run face first into a tall thin man in a pressed black suit and a top hat. Really, all that he had gotten a face full of was a slightly unbuttoned white shirt and loose red tie as well as a small bit of chest hair.

Stumbling back, Ezrihel lost his footing on an old tree root that just barely stook up in the grass. As he fell one hand rose to his face to rub at his nose while another moved to grab a handful of blades of grass once his fall to earth was complete. His white trousers were smudged, obtaining both grass stains and dirt marks when his rear landed on the ground.

Rubbing his nose, he squinted his eyes in an attempt to see past the glare of the midday sun that casted the foreign man in front of him as a silhouette. Staring up with piercing green eyes, he noted that the man before him was pale skinned and dark eyed with middle length black hair and a devilish pointed goatee.

So, who exactly was this devilish pale ass standing in his family’s garden? With a slight sneer, Ezrihel opened his mouth, about to start to inquire.

“Well hello there my good lad, how are you this fine morning, it is certainly bound to be close to dine for lunch, is it not?” The man interrupted before Ez could even get a single word out.

The man freed his gloved right hand from his cane and offered it to the younger man and continued once more. “I am sure you are a businessman, yes? I’ll kindly inform you that I am one myself. In fact, I have a proposition for you. More so, an opportunity.”

Accepting the hand as help up, Ezrihel still gave the strange man a sharp look, felinesque eyes making certain to study every aspect he could take in. Staring over each neatly folded and pressed seamline, each slight wrinkle around the unbuttoned collar and how the red silk from the casually undone tie caught the noon sunlight, giving it a duned effect of bright highlight and deep red- nearly black- niches.

Yet for some reason Ezrihel’s attention kept getting called back to the curved and nicely finished black ebony wood cane the man held. The entirety of its length was decorated with intricate silver inlays that swirled into ancient looking runes. Both the handle and the tip were fitted in silver as well. Upon closer inspection, Ezrihel found that both silver fittings were carved in order to appear as though they were made of scales. This made little sense to the young man as he had noted that the head of the cane was the face of a roaring tiger red rubies fitted as menacing eyes.

Something was different, sinister, about the man before him. Ezrihel had been fairly certain that there was no way the man could have even possibly appeared behind him by the limits of normal human abilities. He had seen the man in front of him, going around a corner away from him just a mere moment before the man had somehow managed to get behind him, close enough for their bodies to make physical contact. All without Ezrihel having heard a single thing.

And that was just in the way the man had appeared. Ezrihel couldn’t even begin to list off all the ways the man’s very aura or dress was off putting. It was as if a cloud, or more so a mist of dark energy and negativity surrounded the man. Yet, despite all these warning signs, Ezrihel found himself increasingly more and more interested in hearing what the dark man had to say.

“This is interesting, but I’ll need to know more details, more specifics of this opportunity you’ve decided to throw my way.” Why was he agreeing to even listen to this man? What was urging him to even begin to treat this strange and absolutely uninvited guest as if he deserved anything else outside of a swift escorting off his family’s estate?

“Of course of course, no good businessman would ask another to sign upon something they knew nothing about! Now, lad, this deal is very simple. My associates and I have been on the lookout for a rather dashing young man such as yourself to aid us in our company’s pursuit in this world, and perhaps you might be that very man!”

The devilish businessman wrapped a comfortable arm around Ezrihel’s shoulder, waving out to the sky above the hedges, as if promising something beyond the clouds. “Tell me, what do you think of really adventuring, getting out there, experiencing the world for how it truly is? I’m sure you have dreamt about exploring the land, the city, everything that this world has to offer. Furthermore, I am willing to put money down that you even thought one day you might rule over some of it, yes?”

“Oh, well yes, I have given plenty of thought to the idea of one day ruling part of the world. My father is an extremely wealthy man of business, you see. He owns a very successful trading empire, actually, we own a good deal of the port out of both Charleston and Wilmington, which are the two biggest ports in the south, but certainly any man worth even half his weight in salt would know that fact, that is, unless you happen to be new to America. But yeah, on the rather extensive topic of getting out and exploring the world? Of course I’ve always wanted to do something like that.”

He paused for a second. “What person doesn’t dream of getting out and travelling the world and discovering new grandeur things? I honestly think that such a dream is woven into each of our immortal souls, a gift by god if you wish to call it that-- Are you a church going man, Mister...”

“Lucian Sennor. You may call me Master Lucian though, if you so wish-- And no, I prefer to do my worship and practice outside of the church.”

“Oh, so you’re a Pagan then.”

“No no, poor boy. I am far from a Pagan, if anything, I could easily consider myself a helper of God.”

Ezrihel stared at the strange man, trying to read what is was exactly that he had just meant by that statement. No priest, missionary, abbit or cardinal did his work outside of the church. In fact, the longer he stood near this man, the more uneasy he felt. The uneasiness crept in through the back of his skull before slowly finding it’s way down his spine and spreading through his body. He began to open his mouth to question what the man had meant further before a bell- the lunch bell- rang out.

Suddenly he found himself smiling at the man and holding a gloved hand out to him. “Oh, would you care to have lunch with me today, Master Lucian? Our chefs are some of the finest in the south, if you’d like to try some famous southern cuisine.”

“What a gracious offer my boy, I humbly accept your kind invitation to dine. I have no doubt that your chefs can prepare the most scrumptious of meals, and I look forward to seeing what they have to offer. Now, if you would be so kind to lead me to your dining hall, then I shall follow close behind.”

Ezrihel would lead the man through the winding garden trails and pathways until they came out of a beautifully landscaped courtyard, decorated with covered white furniture and perky newly blossomed flowers. In the center of the courtyard stood an elegantly carved white marble fountain featuring a lovely stone maiden and playful cherubs.

Continuing to lead Master Lucian, Ezrihel pointed out a glass table placed under a tree. “That, that is where we shall have lunch. Always was my favorite place to sit and read in the autumn months.”

With a gracefully sweeping hand, he slid a chair out for his guest before taking his own seat.

“Thank you my dear boy, it appears you have quite the establishment for yourself here, very tidy and elegant, I must say. Now, you mentioned seeing yourself owning a part, or all, of this estate, and perhaps a bit more, did you not? Did you happen to wish for a bit more than that in your future?”

“Oh, of course. Of course I’d enjoy ruling more than just this single estate, though eventually I will also own my fiancee’s lands, I do wish for more.”

“Of course, you do, as does every man, but you see, not every man has the chance to earn more than they believe to be available to them. And that, my dear boy, is where I come in. As I said before, I am a businessman, and I have enough power and wealth to turn a fortune to any man given they have the courage and charm to aid my endeavors. Can I consider you one of the interested few?”

With a slight sigh Ezrihel beckoned a servant over. This tidy young man carried a silver platter that held a tea set for two. Smiling, Ezrihel watched the man place a tea bag into each cup before pouring steaming hot water over both. Gripping a small set of tongs, the servant put three cubes of sugar into Ez’s tea, stirring it in with a small spoon.

“Care for some sugar, Master Lucian?”

“Thank you for the offer, but I have always liked my tea a little… bitter.”

Ezrihel nodded, motioning the servant away for now. Taking the spoon in his right hand, he placed the bowl of the silver spoon in his mouth and tasted the sugar, smiling at the devilish man. “I’ve always had a bit of, what I guess you could call a sweet tooth.”

He gave a soft laugh before putting the spoon down. “What else, aside from a faint promise of rule would this deal come with? A fortune means very little to someone as me, at least when it comes to material wealth. You see, Master Lucian, I can have anything in the world that I so desire. Such is one of the perks of being an aristocrat.”

“Oh, of course, but there are some things that, well, wealth can’t seem to grasp, isn’t there? Perhaps there is something in your mind that you wish to have, but it is not in your power to control such things? Tell me, what is it that you think this deal lacks? Power? Magic? Life? Surely you have your own thoughts on the matter. Please, enlighten me to them.”

“Well, I would certainly love to obtain more knowledge on the thought of an afterlife for one, but there has always been one thing that I’ve seemed to find that money could never buy. I want people to adore me, look up to me. They already envy me, but that’s hardly something I need more of, a fact I’m certain a businessman such as yourself could appreciate. People have always wanted to get close to me and my family for our money and power, but hardly ever out of actual genuine interest.”

He gave a quite scoff and rolled his emerald green eyes. “I want to be desired and I want to have absolute control and knowledge. Is that something this so called a’mazing deal’ of yours can offer me?”

“I counter your question with one of my own, Mr. Althaus, and my question is this:” the devious business spoke as he seemed to tap his fingertips together. “If my deal was able to offer you such that you desire, would you sign upon it?”

Without sparring a second, “What would you want for it in return? What would my signature cost? What would be the catch of this all? Those are what my answer depends on.”

“Such a smart young lad you are, asking all the right questions. It;s exactly why I had picked you among those I have seen. You know how to handle business and get straight to the point. Now, every so often, I will have a request for you, so long as you comply, you will continue to gain your benefits, if not, then they all vanish, and I will consider you partially in debt for breaking our agreement. How does that appeal to you?”

As he gave a moment of thought another servant carried a new silver platter to the table, this one holding two plates, each adorned with a slice of cornbread, collard greens and ham, and a good helping of chicken and dumplings topped with a savory gravy like sauce. Placing the two steamy porcelain plates on the table, the servant then deposited a salt shaker on the table, followed by two pine green cloth napkins. Holding out the pepper grinder, he ground pepper over Ezrihel’s food for a few seconds before the young man made a hand motion to stop. Turning, the servant offered the pepper to Lucian who followed in Ez’s example. Having completed his task, the servant stepped away from the table and returned to the house.

“What types of things would you be requesting of me to do? Certainly you must understand that I don’t exactly feel the dying urge to sully my family’s name. Besides, it’s just simply good business practice to fully read and understand the terms of a contract before signing into it.”

Adjusting his position, Lucian placed his black cane across his lap before crossing his ankle over his knee. He tugged the bottom hem line of his suit and after getting comfortable, took up the fork, but waited for Ezrihel to take the first bite. “I would expect no less from such an astute young man as yourself. Be assured that I wouldn’t ask anything unsavory of you, simply that you be under my employment. You’ll be able to learn all that you could ever wish, and you’d even get an answer to your afterlife questions. Though I can certainly assure you that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. You see, I don’t make an offer like this lightly.”

Taking bites out of his food while Lucian talked, Ezrihel felt a strong sudden desire to agree with the suited man. For whatever reason, he couldn’t find the logic to, but agreeing just felt like a necessity, as if the future of his life depended on this very deal being struck. With a nod of his head, he found himself agreeing with Master Lucian on the matter, and before he could even stop himself, he found his hand signing a contract printed in elegant script onto a thick piece of aged parchment paper.

Having achieved what he had set out to do this day, Lucian stood from the table and excused himself, taking a gracious bow and casting a mischievous smile at the teen. Ezrihel moved to ask the man a question, but with a blink of his eyes the man was completely removed from his sight.

A feeling a deep seated regret and confusion flooded over Ezrihel as he looked at the table set only for one person. With a voice of fright, he called over the servant who had served him tea, “You there! Yes, come here. Tell me, did you happen to see where my guest disappeared off to?”

Shaking his head, the servant gave a meek answer. “I only served you tea, my lord.”

Glaring at the servant with enough force to make the man shrink away, he spoke again. “The dark haired man. The one who said he didn’t want any sugar because he prefered his tea bitter. You’re telling me that you didn’t see him, or serve him, correct?”

“Ye-yes Young Master...”

He rested his forehead on his right and and waved his left hand flippantly in the air, shooing the servant away, “Oh rubbish. You’re absolutely useless to me. Clean up my table and go back inside the house.”

Pausing, he allowed his icy gaze to scrape along the visage of the servant once more as the poor sod attempted to clean the table up quickly and avoid his master’s wrath. “In fact, take me to the man who served me my lunch. I need to speak with him.”

“Yes, my master...” The servant nodded, turning away to lead the teen to the large pantry in the kitchen. He slinked back away from the area as Ezrihel raised a finger to point at the man who had served him lunch. He was standing up on a step stool, holding a wooden box full of several different types of jarred and preserved foods along with the spices the Althaus family had recently purchased.

“You, here, now.”

The bald headed man didn’t even bother to turn to look at him, instead he continued to put away various food and spice jars on the wrap around shelves. The servant hadn’t even put in the effort to acknowledge his master. Ezrihel, with a reddened face, spoke up once more, this time in an even more authoritative tone.

“Servant, your master has demanded your attention. Turn around and address me now or you are going to lose more than just your sense of smell.”

With an annoyed sigh, the middle-aged man sat his box of jars down on the top shelf, climbing down the step stool and gave a deadpan stare at his blonde haired master.

“Yes? Are you still hungry?” The man replied shortly. The other kitchen staff paused in their duties, looking on with a mixture of curiosity and fear at the man's audacious response.

The boy, feeling the eyes of his staff watching him, gave a sneer. “That would be ‘Yes, my Master’, to you." Ezrihel started, his tone sharp enough to draw blood. "You acknowledge me when I address you, less you wish to be lashed for disobedience. I don’t like disrespect from my workers and I certainly won't take it from you.”

The young man looked around the kitchen, glaring at the onlooking staff members. They avoided making eye contact with him, instead choosing to keep their heads down and return to their jobs.

“Yes, my Master.” Came a less than amused reply.

“Now. Now that that is all out of the way, I have a few simple questions for you.” The man gave a curt nod of acknowledgement, though Ezrihel would have proceeded either way. “When you served me lunch, how many plates did you bring out?”

“I bought out a single entree for you, my Master.”

“Only one?”

“Yes, Master. Would you like more to eat? I’m certain that the cook wouldn’t min-”

“No. I’m not hungry. Did you happen to see a dark haired man in a pressed black suit and top hat anytime today?”

“No, Master. I did not see anyone fitting that description. Perhaps you have dreamt up or imagined something."

Ezrihel cut his eyes at the man. “Are you implying that my vision or memory is flawed or faulted?”

“No, Master.”

“Are you implying that I’m a loony? That I’m crazy and I’ve just so happened to dream something up?” Ezrihel's voice rose a bit, again calling the attention of the kitchen staff to his current conversation.

“No, Master.” This time the man's voice came across as slowly becoming more shrinking.

“Well, it certainly sounded as if you were questioning your master, and wouldn’t you be the one to know the consequences of that?” Ezrihel toyed, his words increasingly more scathing.

“My Master, I was only humbly making the suggestion due to the fact that you might be experiencing stress about your soon and upcoming wedding...”

“My wedding?” He stopped, somewhat surprised that this was even a topic being brought up.

“Yes, Sire. Your wedding is fast approaching.”

“Oh, yes yes, I am heavily aware of that thought.” Ezrihel furrowed his eyebrows, deeply in thought as his eyes studied the rosewood trimming that joined the hardwood floor with the paneled wall. The man was trying to shift Ezrihel's attention away from the disrespect, but he wouldn't be fooled into forgetting so easily.

“Am I excused now, Master?” The bald man asked, jerking Ezrihel violently from his train of thought.

“What? Oh, yes, whatever. Return to whatever it was you happened to be doing before.” He batted his hand irreverently at the servant before sharply turning away.

Looking over the still unmoving kitchen staff he gave a vexed growl. "Well? What are you all standing around for, hmm? Get back to work."

Seeing them begin to shift into motion, he strode out of the kitchen, stalking through his palace of a mansion.

Who had that man been? He hadn’t even given a description of the so called business he had worked for. All Ezrihel had was a name. Lucian Sennor. That was it, that and the fact that the man had called himself a helper of God, yet was outside of the Church.

With an annoyed huff, he quickly flung open the heavy oakwood door to his room, paying little mind to any of the painstaking detail put into the lovely bit of brassworking that adorned the door. Shutting the world off from himself, he walked across his large room. Leather booted feet scratched softly against the roughly woven decorative chandelier rug on the floor as he made his way to his mahogany desk.

Pulling the heavy chair out, he couldn’t help but stop to admire how the sunlight filtered down through the diamond shaped lattice windows, hitting the motes of dust before fanning across the floor in broad sweeps. With a quiet hum, he sat down and adjusted the chair, making sure to pull it close to the desk. Nimble fingers pick up a long feathered white quill while his left hand uncorked a bottle of black ink.

Reaching into the compartment right beneath the top of the desk, he withdrew a leather bound journal. He placed the journal on the desk and in a fluid motion swept his left hand across the cover, opening the book to the next empty page. In elegant and flowing cursive he wrote:

September Twenty Third, Eighteen Twelve,

Today I stumbled across a strange man while strolling the family garden. He seemed to appear out of nowhere, but I decided to invite him to lunch. He seemed to be quite a strange man, referencing to himself as a servant of God outside of the Holy Church. He gave me an uneasy feeling, yet I found myself continuing to talk with him, asking him questions. He offered me a deal, that of which I found myself signing.

I fear for myself. No one else saw him at the table with me, even though I remember him dining with me to some extent. He called himself a man of business, yet left me nothing but his name. Lucian Sennor. While he acted as if he was of a predominate company, I have never heard such a name, nor have I been able to figure out what his business or company would have been to begin with.

With a panicked mind, I find myself fearing that this was a sort of crossroads demon, as he simply brokered a non-descript deal with me before vanishing. What if this is true and I have signed my soul over to the devil himself? No amount of confessions will expunge my soul from this contract. I have signed myself away simply for the sake of knowledge. I have to find this man, I have to prove that he is a real person.

I feel as if there is a great deal of pressure resting on my brow. My servant even suggested that I might have dreamt up the conversation with the slicked back businessman due to stress related to my upcoming marriage. While this didn’t make me feel any better, and I don’t very much believe him, it still makes me question a vast deal of things.

I have to say, even with it being six months in the future from me, I still feel a great deal of nervousness over it. Ah, but time and God will bring confidence and support into my life when I need it the most, such is the way of life and the great ever expanding universe.

Taking a black silk ribbon, he marked his place in his journal and closed the book. With gentle fingers he traced over the cover of it, running his nails along each crease in the spine of the worn leather. He gave a quiet sigh and returned his journal to the middle drawer. He pushed his chair out and stretched his arms up towards the ceiling, extending his back muscles as he stood on his toe tips.

He dropped his arms to his sides and rolled his neck and shoulders before giving a glance at his large bed. The plush cotton stuffed dull green comforter looked absolutely enticing at the current moment. He looked towards his door before casting another yearning at the bed.

Alright, one last thing before I lay down for my nap then.

Poking his head out of his room, he beckoned a servant over, this time the Butler of his estate, a tall man with a straight and pointed nose, calm hooded brown eyes and short grey hair. Glancing up at the man, Ezrihel spoke.

“I need you to find out everything you can about a man named Lucian Sennor. He said he was a distinguished businessman, and he wields a rather unique looking ebony wood cane set with silver and rubies. The head of the cane is a roaring tiger with two rubies set as its eyes.”

The man nodded.

“Also, Mister Emery, would you mind informing the staff that I do not wish to be bothered during my nap, but upon my waking I want a warm bath with rose oil and crushed lavender drawn. A cellist softly playing Canon in D Major would be a lovely addition, don’t you think?” The young man gave a playful smile.

“Of course my lord, I would be happy to make those arrangements for your personal bath.” The butler responded in a kind tone. "Is there anything else you would like done?"

"Oh, the servant you had stocking the pantry with spices today was quite a bit rude and caused a scene. I would certainly love for him to be dealt with, after all, I do think I deserve better as the son of a Duke, wouldn't you agree Mister Emery~?"

"I assure you that he will be corrected in his distasteful behavior, my Young Master." Emery gave a soft smile.

~ * * * ~

Dear Mister Micheal Buchanan,

It has recently come to my attention that while under the employment of the noble and distinguished Althaus family, your disposition has grown rather insincere and disgruntled. It has also come to light that earlier this day you caused a rather unpleasant scene with Young Master Ezrihel in the kitchen, challenging his authority in the most vile of ways with a grotesquely mocking attitude in front of other Althaus Family staff members. We of the Althaus family do not permit such ill-mannered and unbecoming behavior from any member of staff, new to the job or not.

If a problem does arise, it should be taken up the chain of command. Being so disagreeable with our most gracious Young Master is an unspeakable deviation in the expected behavior of hired staff members. One should always strive to be the most presentable for both Master Althaus and Young Master Ezrihel, especially in Master Althaus's absence.

This being said, I would like to for you to meet with me in the garden courtyard at the end of your shift. It is highly important that we speak on the subject of your infraction today.

-Mister Josef Emery, the Family Butler

This had been the note that Emery had left on the door to Mister Buchanan's quarters. It was the reason that Mister Buchanan now stood in the courtyard, waiting. He bit his bottom lip, pulling the thin pink skin between his teeth and tugging until it tore off in diaphanous sheets. He would only stop when it became too tender and sore to touch, only then moving on to the next section of his lip.

He attempted to stand as still as possible, but he was finding this once simple task more and more challenging as the seconds ticked by. He had arrived as early as he could, yet he had found the Family Butler to be no where in sight. A few moments passed, and finally Mister Buchanan saw the Butler approaching.

Mister Emery withdrew his pocket watch and pressed the spring lock at the top, allowing the cover of the time piece to pop open and reveal the face of the clock. Eleven o'clock sharp. He was right on time, as always. With a nod of his head, he gave acknowledgement to the servant before gesturing with his hand. "Care to take a walk with me, Mister Buchanan?"

Knowing better than to refuse, he agreed, walking side by side with the senior staff member.

"So, Mister Buchanan. Do you have a wife or any children who life outside of the estate grounds?"

"Oh. No. I do not have either of those. Why?" He asked cautiously.

Ignoring his question, the butler continued. "After you get done with your shift for the day, what is it that you do?"

"Uhm, on the weekends I head into town and enjoy a few drinks down at a tavern."

"Oh? Do you have a particular tavern that you favor?"

"I enjoy the atmosphere at this one tavern called The Sly Courtesan."

"Hmm. I've never really been one for drinking, but I might stop by there one day. Tell me, do you think that we, the Althaus Family, work you too hard or that we may be cruel in our practice?" Now would come a new onslaught of questioning as they walked past a large wood and marble gazebo. The servant went quiet as they walked, breaking eye contact and instead choosing to admire the well kept grass on either side of the garden walk way.

"Mister Buchanan, I simply asked you a question. Please, do humor me enough to answer me." While the words were friendly, the tone Emery spoke in betrayed a thinly veiled threat.

"N-no sir." Came the stammered response.

"Then why do you act out as such?" The tone used had become much more pointed. Still, the servant had refused to reinitialize eye contact with Emery as they rounded another corner, coming up on a small pond hidden next to a somber looking weeping willow.

"What do you mean?" Michael asked in his confusion and nervousness.

"As the note I left on your door read, I was informed of the display you made today in the kitchen." Emery paused, ducking under the low hanging willow branches before he stopped and gestured to a stone bench beneath the droopy tree. Michael sat down hastily, nervous at the prospect of losing his job. "Mister Buchanan, please, tell me what it was that happened to put you in such a rancid mood earlier today."

"Well," he started, "I recently haven't been able to get much sleep-"

"Oh? And why is that?" Emery interrupted, his voice and expression that of disinterested curiosity. He had stayed standing, choosing to observe the middle aged man before him with a stiff gaze and a straight back.

"I've been having these nightmares as of late. Horrible images and visions of the devil dressed in a gold lace business suit, his tail as sharp and wicked as his pitchfork! He just keeps giving me this evil grin before his tail wraps itself around my throat and squeezes until I wake up gasping in my bed. I just keep getting the same nightmare over and over again, and I can never get his creeping cackle out of my head. ... I've been trying to avoid sleep because of that."

"Why would The Devil be visiting a man such as yourself, Mister Buchanan? Certainly you are a Church going and God fearing man. Unless you've done something more sinister, why would The Devil harass you?" As he spoke, the Butler began walking to the trunk of the tree, his back to the back of the servant while he waited for an answer. He clasped his hands behind himself, intently listening to the man behind him.

Michael was quiet for a moment before his whispered reply came. "I've made some mistakes in my life."

Emery gave a soft hum to show he was listening before he inquired once more, "so, what else is the reason behind your scene today?"

Giving a soft sigh, the bald man crossed his ankle over his knee, trying to adjust his waist coat and cuffs before answering. "I saw how the other servants tremble before Master Ezrihel. The boy knows this, and uses it to his advantage, bullying us. It's just not right, we're just as human as he is, you know? I thought that maybe if I could stand up to him, if one of us could show that we're not afraid, maybe it would give the others more confidence to ask to be treated differently... Maybe I shouldn't have caused a scene like that..."

"Yet you feel justified in your actions."

"Of course! He's a brat; surely you know this, you are after all, one of the staff who has to tolerate his presence the most."

"Oh yes, yes. The Young Master Ezrihel is quite the brat, of course." Came the soft response from behind. "But you see," a wire passed in front of Buchanan's face before pulling tight around his neck in a quick motion. He lurched off the seat, his fingers flying up to his throat as he attempted to pull the wire loose. Emery gave a grunt of exertion and pulled tighter against the struggling man, his knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping the wooden handles.

"You see, Mister Buchanan, we- at the Althaus Family Estate- do not- Do not tolerate disrespect-argh, or dissent as such." Emery's cool and collected face showed very little sign of strain aside from furrowed brows as his victim thrashed in front of him. The servant let out several muted and warbling attempts at a cry for help against the assault, but it was a fruitless endeavor.

"It's a pity- You won't leave anyone to remember you, but I guess that'll make your clean up all the easier."

After a moment, he stopped thrashing as his eyes began to roll back into his head. With his last few remaining seconds of awareness he starred up to the sky through the willow branches, noticing each and every minuscule movement they made in a breeze he couldn't feel.

He dropped to his knees as his strength began to leave him. It was strange, how even though he could feel his heart pounding with panic, everything seemed to slow down and take on an eerie calmness, allowing him to notice things he had paid no attention to before.

The full moon cast such a beautiful glow across those pale green willow leaves, coating everything in a bewitching silver veil with its beams of light. As he let out his final breath, the stars seemed to move, spinning around him before growing into a multi-hued spectrum that danced for his dying eyes.

Then he saw him.

A man dressed in a pressed black suit and top hat stood on the other side of the pond, bathed in moonlight as he watched the struggle. He brandished an ebony cane, the ruby red eyes of a sterling silver tiger head catching the moonlight and twinkling with a seeming glee at the violence.

~ * * * ~

Josef Emery, the butler, washed his hands, donned his white gloves and adjusted the collar of his suit in order to make certain that he was as presentable as possible for his Young Master. A footman opened the door to Ezrihel's room, making sure that he closed it behind the Estate Butler.

Emery stood, patiently waiting for Ezrihel to acknowledge him before speaking, and watched as the Valet, Carter Roseburg, helped the Young Master get dressed for the long day ahead of him. The early morning sunlight peaked through the bay window on the far side of Ez's room, casting soft shadows on the walls as Roseburg hurried to and fro attempting to perfect his Master's outfit for the day. After a few moments of this Ezrihel yawned and stretched up towards the ceiling before turning to face his butler.

"Good morning Mister Emery, my most favored butler~"

"Your only butler, Young Master."

"Do you have any news about the affairs of my estate this morning, dearest Emery?"

The butler gave a soft smile and nodded. "Our animals are finely feed, the laundress has rounded up all the clothes, washed and pressed them with an iron, and the cooks are preparing you a lovely breakfast of fresh eggs, hash browns, biscuits and sausage gravy. Is there anything in particular you would like to drink with your breakfast, my Sir?"

Ezrihel gave a moment and pondered, touching his chin with the lithe fingers of his left hand. "A glass of fresh milk would be a lovely addition."

"Of course my Master."

"Oh, Mister Emery, are my staff happy and well taken care of?" Ezrihel spoke in a detached way, not seeming to be all too concerned with it really. As he asked the question, he began fiddling around with the various papers and books on his desk.

"Yes, your staff are happy and taken care of. I'd, however, like to inform you that we have a new position for servant available, so I will need to search out a suitable candidate for the job."

This piqued Ez's interested greatly, so much so that he stopped what he was doing in order to make eye contact with Mister Emery. "Oh? Who decided to quit?"

"Mister Buchanan didn't take the criticism on his attitude yesterday all too well, so I regret to inform you that we had to let him go. A travesty, really. I'm certain that he'll be missed by staff and house alike."

The young man's face curled with a devious smile. "Oh, I am quite certain as well. What a pity that he had to be relieved of his services and duties to a young Duke, but people must simply learn their place. We can not have people just  taking advantage of a job with such vast benefits and acting like filthy and untrained animals, it just won't do. I'm absolutely positive that you agree?"

"Of course I do, Young Master. I expect nothing but the best from my underlings. When it comes to the care of your household, I plan to stop at nothing to ensure quality."

"Oh Mister Emery! You truly are the best Butler in the world. You just understand the way that things are supposed to work, the natural turning cogs of society and what is to be expected from servants. Tell me: Did he leave with a fuss or just bow his head in a spineless and obedient way?"

Emery walked across the bedroom with a dignified stride, lifting his gloved hands to help adjust Ezrihel's white lace jabot and stiff collar. Looking down his nose as he perfected Ez's neck wear, he answered, "He put up a great deal of fuss. I had to personally escort him off of the property and clean up the mess he had made. I was afraid that he'd wake up half the house workers last night, but I am glad he didn't."

"Oh what a bother he must of been. Did he run home to his parents?"

"He has no parents or family to speak of."

"Pity. Too bad I won't be missing him much."

"Yes. It is quite the pity. A letter from your father arrived today."

"Oh?" Ezrihel perked up at the news of his father almost instantly.

"Yes, most of it was addressed to either me or our Lady Mistress Althaus, but he did inquire as to your status and how you and Lilith are getting along now that your wedding fast approaches." He had finished fixing up all of Ezrihel's outfit, and with a raised eyebrow, he gestured to the door. "Your breakfast should be ready shortly, my Young Master. We should make for the dining hall."

"Can you just have a servant bring me my breakfast? I wish to study."

Emery gave a shake of his head. "I'm afraid not, Young Master. Our Lady Mistress Althaus wishes to speak with you over breakfast this morning."

Ezrihel's eyes widened in surprise. "M-Mother wants to speak with me? What ever could she wish to speak with me about?"

"She wouldn't say, but it is likely about your wedding and making final arrangements." A soft smile was given as a response when the young man groaned in disdain. "Come now, Young Master. I doubt that it will be that painful of an experience."

With a sigh and a lazy shuffle, Ezrihel grumbled an agreement and followed Emery out of the room and down the hall, paying little attention to the various paintings of his grandfather, great grandfather and great great grandfathers. He wondered what ever it could be that his mother wanted to talk to him about as he stepped into the dinning hall quietly.

As if she had eyes on the back of her head, his mother turned around as soon as he entered, her gentle blue eyes zeroing in on him as she waved a hand and called out his name in a loud and obnoxious manner, "Oh Ezzyyyyyy~ My dear darling baby boy, please do come over here and have a chat with me~"

With little choice in the matter, the housemaid she had been talking to backed away, deciding that now was the time to escape back to the kitchen

Paying little attention to the disappearance of the house worker, Lady Althaus stood with a friendly smile plastered across her pale face. Her glossy dark red-brown hair had been done up in an elaborate pile of curls pinned to the top of her head, a pile that Ezrihel could have sworn threatened to come undone at any sudden movement. She waved a large dark silk and lace fan in front of her face, trying to cool herself from what she often called the 'oppressive heat' of the day.

Stepping up to the head of the table, Ezrihel pulled the head chair out for his mother, sliding back underneath her as she sat down. He gave a tug to his overcoat to adjust it as the butler allowed him the same service he had just given his mother. Ez crossed his legs and propped his elbows on the table top, an action Lady Althaus quickly corrected with a sharp pop to his left wrist from the ivory bone of her fan.

He gave an awkward smile and rubbed his ear, making sure to keep his arms away from the table. Ezrihel cast a look towards Emery, and seeing the butler's soft smile, looked at his mother, "So... Emery tells me that we received a letter from Father today. ... Would it be appropriate for me to ask what it was he wrote about?"

"Oh yes, your father's letter did arrive today. We cut it open post haste and read it with a great vigor-- Do you know that he's been traveling through Spain recently? He promised to bring us back all kinds of beautiful things~ Oh, but that reminds me, would you like to write him a letter? I was going to have our dearest Mister Emery over here mail my letter off in a few days."

"Certainly. Hopefully he'll care enough to write me a personal letter back eventually. ..." Ez's near-mockingly hopeful tone rang through the dinning hall.

"Darling boy, what's wrong?" Lady Althaus reached her hand out and graced his forearm with a motherly touch. Her brows furrowed up and she gazed over his face, attempting to understand his suddenly disconcerting words.

Ez gave a slight roll of his eyes and turned his thin face away from the loving blue ones his mother possessed, unable to stomach the eye contact as he thought. His father was flighty, hardly in most of his childhood memories. Like a shadow he had been trapped in, all he could do was look up to the Duke with wide-eyed amazement and wonder. "I just want him to care."

"Oh my sweet child, your father does care. He cares deeply."

"Then why can't I see that?"

His mom gave a soft smile and brought her hand up to cup her son's face. "Because your a young man with the entire world for the taking and your father is a very important and distracted man. You have always let your mind wander and get caught up on these little things, forgetting the bigger picture. Your father is Duke Althaus, he does an extremely imperative job that requires his absence from us much too often." She gave a slight pause as his green eyes finally became more responsive, "just remember that you are not alone my most precious and only child. You have both me and the most devoted Mister Emery. You have your beautiful bride-to-be just over there on the neighboring estate, as well as her older brothers and father to confide in--"

She stopped, raising her hand quickly. "I remembered something! I remembered exactly what it was that I wanted to speak to you about!" Ezrihel cocked an eyebrow in silent questioning, still digesting the emotional and supportive spiel his mother had just delivered. "We need to talk more on your wedding~"

He gave a deep groan and slid down in his chair, his hair becoming more and more disheveled as he sank towards the floor. "Mother, do we reeeaaallly have to?" Came his pleading voice.

"Yes, yes we do, and pull yourself up in your chair and sit correctly! You look so very inappropriate when you act out like that." Her retort was sharp and to the point as her eyes narrowed at her son.

She cast a look at Emery, "Go get a hair brush and fix my son's unbecoming appearance, please, Mister Emery."

With what bordered on a glare, she resumed talking to her son. "I just wanted- no, needed- to finalize some more details. Certainly you have picked out and made a final decision on the food and drink to be served at the reception?"

"I've already made mention of the menu to our chefs. Anything else?"

"What of the theme colors? Or flowers for that matter? Which of these have you decided on?"

He gave a sigh of relief as two servants emerged from the kitchen, each carrying a plate of delicious smelling hash browns and scrambled eggs. Soon another servant deposited a platter of fluffy biscuits on the table and a large serving dish of sausage gravy. He sat up in his chair and leaned forward, eager to grab up his fork and start on his breakfast. He took his fork in hand and stuck a piece of egg.

Before he could raise his food to his mouth the duchess spoke up, her tone extremely authoritative. "I expect an answer before you get lost in your breakfast, Ezrihel."

He gave a quiet scoff and put his fork down. "I was going to wait until later today to give you the answer to those two questions. I have plans to spend the day with Lilith and her family, and I was going to ask for her final choice on both of those matters."

His mother leaned forward and nodded. She took up her fork, and by doing so, gave Ezrihel permission to go on ahead and enjoy his breakfast.