Who Would Do Such Reprehensible Acts? The Aristocrats! - How Evil Spreads

[One Thread in a Tapestry]

The ride went on, and so did the quiet. Lyric had never been in a carriage before, but it was far more bumpy than he was expecting. Being so uncomfortably close to Godroy wasn't helping either. Suppose it would have been a good time to ask more questions, and he definitely had many, but... Not for Godroy. His words made it pretty clear how he looked at him. Yet, there was nothing else to look at, not even windows. It was like a strange little private space where the rest of the world could not see in, and those inside could not see out. All he could do was look towards their feet, and listen to all the noises as they travelled...

What was going to happen to him, he wondered?

Just as suddenly as it lurched to life, it came to a stop. They had arrived. The first to move was Godroy, wordlessly standing, needing to lower his head so as not to hit it's ceiling as he pushed open the door. Immediately, the cold air rushed in and the warmth rushed out, the look on the man's face telling Lyric all he needed to be told: You first. Lyric didn't question it, quick to his feet as he made his first steps out of the cabin... And was immediately amazed.

Vineyards, covered in snow, stretched out before him as far as he could see. Oil lamp posts lit the now dark night sky, dimming the stars, and making the gigantic estate building seem to glow from every window and door. It stole his attention, and his breath, staring open mouthed up at the sheer enormity of the wealth on display. He had never been anywhere so... High class. It was incredible to him.

He didn't even hear the carriage door shut behind him, Godroy pushing him with his palm and breaking Lyric's stupor. "Come on." He urged, stepping past him but keeping his glare finely fixed. There would be no time to admire, apparently. Lyric nodded quickly, still a little too nervous to even apologize yet quickly falling in step with the much taller man. Perhaps there would be more time to gawk once inside...

He was ushered in, past two of the biggest doors Lyric had ever seen, and was further greeted by awe inspiring sights. It was so well lit! A giant hanging candelabra hung from the high ceilings, where hand painted art decorated the domed roof. Beautiful red carpet covered the floor, splitting into paths that travelled up two huge curved sets of stairs. And the doors... So many doors! Where did they all go?

Godroy groaned in annoyance, gripping Lyric by the arm and pulling him along down a side path from this gigantic hall. It was hard to keep step now, Lyric's center of gravity thrown off balance with the man-handling, but tried his best. This was making him feel like some strange merchandise, getting moved about like this so callously. They were quickly greeted by a handful of others; Maids, from what Lyric could tell.

"Take this one to Fitz and get him ready for Lord Belfry." With that, he practically threw Lyric forward, the two maids literally catching him from stumbling. Wordlessly, they both simply bowed in unison. "Welcome to Belfry Estate." Godroy practically spat, words like venom, as Lyric collected his wits quick enough to see the scary man turn heel and make his way out the opposite direction. Almost immediately, the two girls started to tug him along, apparently his new holders.

"W-Wait," Lyric tried to say, "Where are we going?"

"Shhhhh..." One immediately hissed; "You need to be presentable before coming before Lord Belfry." Said another, in hushed whisper.

"Who is Lord Belfry?" Lyric asked, keeping up, but now minding his volume. They were really hustling, like his very presence was too offensive to behold. Indeed, he did look like he just came off the streets, but that was literally because he had. Briefly, the two maids shared confused glances, but... An answer came from neither for a long time, rushing Lyric down yet another hallway.

"Are you not from here?" One asked; "You'd do well not to ask questions right now. We need to get you out of those clothes before someone sees you." Seemingly at random, at least to Lyric, they made a hard stop and turn at one of the doors, hustling him inside. Immediately, the smell of perfume and powder assaulted the senses, an array of clothing, mirrors and uniforms dotting the walls. This seemed like a changing room. This had all been moving so quickly, it took only until now, as one of them took his backpack from him, that he realized this was danger.

"W-Wait! Wait a moment!" Lyric said, the maids already pulling his hood back. Finally, he showed some resistance. "Just hold on a second! I can change myself!"

"SHHH! Don't be fussy!!" One quickly shot back, full of annoyance, and holding Lyric by the shoulder as the other one seemed to be taking very fast measurements with a string. They moved with such practiced quickness, it gave the impression he was far from the first they did this too. But, for Lyric, the prospect of them undressing him was horrifying! They'd see his disguise immediately!

"No, no! Please, just wait a moment would you!?" He protested, shrugging her off of him, but not a moment later... A warm, wet rag covered his whole face, hands holding his head as they aggressively scrubbed all over his visage, muting him. Alarms went off in Lyric's head; This was IMMEDIATELY unacceptable! Without thought, he started to swing, trying to grab at them, trying to struggle, but with his face still covered these two women literally wrestled him to the ground. Why were they being so aggressive!? Why did they hurry so much!? Why was this melting down so fucking quickly!?

As he landed a kick on one of their stomachs, finally, it caused her to relent, the rag coming off his face as she reeled back. She was shocked, shocked, that he would use such violence! The woman clutched her stomach, the other withdrawing her own arms after witnessing Lyric so savagely (In their eyes) strike her. Lyric scrambled to sit up; they had brought him all the way to the floor, and when he did, he could feel his hooded cloak fall off his shoulders where the women had apparently managed to undo it's bindings.

Lyric panted, the unexpected struggle and the sudden lack of air irritating his senses, as he quickly saw both what he had managed to do to get them to finally stop, and also what they had managed to get off of him...

His top partially undone, and face assaulted by the scrubbing, his unnaturally pale, deathly skin was on display to see. It had been all but five minutes since he arrived, and already, they remove this disguise. The women, seeing this, paused at the sight. Lyric could see it on their faces, and it made him freeze in turn. Not this again... So soon!?

"Wait, please..." Lyric spoke, tone calm, but pleading. What could he really say? Yet, not awaiting any explanation, between finding he was duisguised and the fact that he had kicked them, the woman closest to the door suddenly bolted.

"Guards!" He heard her scream, running from the room. "Guards...!" Her voice trailed into the distance beyond the confines of this room, and Lyric turned to the other. This was bad, this was so bad...

"I can explain..." Lyric said, once more, trying to plead. But, as he made a move to get up, she took a dramatic step back from him, looking at him like she was trying to figure out if she should run or not. Coming to his feet, Lyric clutched the fabric of his top, trying to keep it from falling down his shoulders. "It's... It's not what it appears to be. I promise." What did it appear to be, exactly, he wasn't even sure. He was talking from his ass, not sure what to say to her. What could he? "I'm... I-"

The doors burst wide open again. The guards, they worked fast. Hardly a moment after Lyric could look back, he saw the shimmer of halberds metal-heads pointed squarely at him, plunging his heart into cold fear, thinking they would strike him. But, they did not. The guards, like everything here, looked very decorated... With tin hats sporting funny blue plumage, and some kind of crest worn over their front. Wordlessly, fearlessly, Lyric tried to find any sign of their eyes through the visors of their helmets, some kind of humanity, yet could spot none.

For a moment, a quiet came over the room. Lyric, exposed, with weapons pointed at him, wouldn't dare move. The guards made no move to apprehend him, and for a while, he feared they were contemplating killing him. But, no. Instead, it appeared they were just waiting for someone else to arrive...

Calming striding into the room, with the maid that had set the alarm close behind, was another man Lyric had not seen. He was a grim looking man, a hunched man... A menacing one. So much like Godroy, just looking at him gave Lyric a strange sense of dread, like he could see from the very onset that he was the bringer of bad omens. His gaunt face, and thin, spindly hair left an impression of a crypt keeper, and the contrastingly dark clothes he had compared to the colorful and vibrantly rich surroundings made him look like a reaper of death in a garden of roses. Grey eyes, similar to his own, glared at Lyric with intense scrutiny... And anger.

"You would deceive us to grant entry to the manor?" He asked openly, voice a low tremble. Lyric instinctively shook his head; He didn't mean to deceive anyone! Well, okay, he did, but not to come here! He didn't even know what he got wrapped up in. The hunched man stepped between the guards, who kept their weapons trained on Lyric. "What ails you? What disease is this? You thought you could get to Lord Belfry with your evil illness?"

Lyric shook his head all the harder. "No sir! I promise! I didn't-"

To Lyric's own shock, he felt his wrist get grabbed, the man gripping him as his eyes were clearly scanning his form. It shut Lyric up again; This was all too much. If this man discovered he was a vampire, he was surely dead. The people of this land, who well and truly hated all enemies of the church, would never allow even the slightest evidence of a vampire in their ranks, much less here. But, he thought he was diseased... Perhaps, at the best possible scenario, Lyric could be removed from this place and keep his life.

But, the visual observation was quickly turning into a probing, feeling his boney fingers start to press against his wrist. "You're cold..." Lyric's heart jumped into his throat. "I feel no pulse." Fuck. The man's scrutinous gaze turned steely. His grip tightened hard. This suspicions were being elevated, and Lyric felt the panic reach his knees, threatening to have him crumble. "... What ails you, boy?" He asked again, more threatening this time.

Lyric's mind raced. It raced to his books, those precious windows to the world he was so rarely afforded at the inn. "L... Leprocy..." He uttered, one of the few things he could think of. A disease that, surely, would make anyone want to unhand him. But, instead, the man's grip tightened further.

"You do not have leprosy." He hissed, anger in his voice. He said it with such confidence, such vile bitterness, Lyric felt his insides freeze. What could say? What could he do? As suddenly as it was snatched, the man let go of his wrist, immediately grabbing Lyric by his face. Lyric's breaths were short and fast, unable to break eye contact, and just waiting for him to spot something that would further add nails to his coffin. It wouldn't take long.

Turning Lyric's head side to side, the grey eyes held quiet calculation behind them. What this man knew, and what he could not, was Lyric's biggest source of fear in the moment. After some turning, he paused and, without a word, hooked his thumb into Lyric's cheek and pulled it back. Fangs. Lyric audibly gasped and, instinctively, threw his head back and away, but of course it was far too late now. The look of revelation in the man's grey eyes said it all.

Lyric was fucked.

"... Leave." He muttered, a sudden calm in his voice. The two guards, having held their position all this time, finally lifted their weapons. As they turned for the door and began to walk, Lyric was speechless. Why? What did that mean? What did this man know? After they were gone, the hunched man peered backward, making sure they were well and truly gone, he returned to his intense staring at Lyric. "You..."

Lyric was all ears. And, prepared for the worst, or at least anticipating it.

"Allow these women to help you dress. You understand?"

Lyric did, but, he was confused. So confused. Why dress him? What... Exactly was going to happen? Did he know? He must know. Through hardly contained tears, Lyric's lips held tight from sheer nerves, and he nodded. Not a moment sooner, the man gave a lazy gesture to the same maids that had tried before, and they now reapproached Lyric with slightly more caution, but... no less speed. Still as a scarecrow, Lyric allowed them to do their work... Solemn silence and dread for what the future might hold let loose within his brain as they completely stripped him naked, then, began to collect clothing from the racks.

The hunched man never turned his gaze. He seemed to continue his peering, looking at Lyric as if he could see straight through him to his very soul. Even as the panic within Lyric naturally subsided and gave way to simple fear, he never looked away from this strange man. It was the closest thing to bravery he had in the face of his biggest nightmare.

The outfit they had picked out for him... It was not quite what Lyric was expecting. Instead of billowy sleeves, or a nice tunic, they put in in... A lacy dark green dress, with a tight collar that sported the biggest ruby he had ever seen. It was only adding to the sheer oddity that was this entire scenario for him, able to break his gaze from the man and looking to a mirror...

His unbelievably white skin nearly looked blue it was so dead... And it contrasted so heavily with this... Dress? The collar reached up so high, it looked like his head was perched precariously atop, rather than attached to anything. Even his hair, they pulled back and secured with a golden pin. Why... Dress him like a woman? What was the purpose of this?

"... Come on. Let's go."

The man hadn't spoken the entire time he was dressed. Lyric turned his gaze to him, eyes wide with surprise yet again. "But... What of my makeup?"

"You want make up?" He raised a brow, looking annoyed. Lyric was worried; His skin was exposed. Wouldn't anybody who saw him like this be able to immediately tell...? The man gestured to the maids again. "Give him make up."

And, they did. Lipstick, and a little eye shadow. Not exactly... What he meant. Seeing himself in the mirror, expecting more yet not receiving any, Lyric felt a knot in his stomach. What... What the fuck was this!? Why emasculate him in such a way? This just seemed bizarre and perverted, and did nothing to hide his true nature. What was the deal here?

As if sensing the question as Lyric looked into the mirror across the room, the man offered explanation. "You'll look how Lord Belfry likes."

That... Was alarming. Strange; Did this Lord Belfry like to make all men dress like ladies? For what purpose? "But... What of my... Skin condition?"

The man's gaze narrowed, sharpening as Lyric could see him briefly grind his teeth at the question. Beady eyes went to the maids, then back to Lyric again. Decisions were made behind that look. "... Come with me."

Lyric felt a jolt, stepping forward to follow. The dress he wore went rather low... Low enough to cover his feet. It took more attention than he'd like to avoid tripping over it as the man lead him out into the hallway. Just past the doors, the same two guards who had only earlier been pointing heavy halberds at him escorted the two of them as they walked. Something told Lyric this 'armed escort' might not be something he'd find new for long.

"The women tell me you are new here."

"I am..."

"Then listen well, for I'm not telling you again: Lord Belfry owns this estate. Owns the entire township. He has a majority stake in every last business here, and landlord of every abode. Everything you see here belongs to him. Every person who lives here works for him. You understand?" Lyric nodded, remaining quietly, intently listening. Despite this unprecedented state of affairs, this was the closest thing he had to 'civil' conversation he'd had since he got here, one sided as it was. "What Lord Belfry wants, he will receive. Sir Godroy picked you up; You must fit the description of the Lord's request."

"Request for... What?" Lyric hoped asking a question would be okay.

"... Anything." The man didn't even turn to face him. And, no doubt, wouldn't elaborate. Though the answer felt ominous to Lyric, as if this was secretly a lion's den this entire time. "You'd do well not to question him. Or me, for that matter. I speak plainly to you now, but I am not your ally here." He shifted, coming to a stop in the middle of the hallway, the escorts halting in turn. Lyric, too tried to come to a stop, only to catch the end of his dress and nearly fall onto his face, arms shooting out to counter balance as he spent a rather inelegant moment correcting himself to be fully present for what this man had to say so importantly it warrented stopping.

"I am Zekiel. Apothecary, Surgeon, Alchemist... In direct service to Lord Belfry. I serve his every medical need and want. Nothing he asks of me is beyond my doing, so long as I am provided the means. And you will do exactly as I say if you value your life. Do you understand?"

What now? He was threatening to kill him? This seemed very extreme, though, after being told the kind of hold this Lord Belfry had on this entire place... Perhaps it was simply the most honest thing he could have said. Coming to terms with this, it wouldn't be immediate, but... Lyric's answer would have to be swift to let him know he was lsitening. "Yes sir..."

"Good." He turned fully to Lyric now, an action that made his hair feel like they were standing on-end. "You will not address Lord Belfry until he has told you to. You will not speak of you're 'condition' either... To anyone." Lyric nodded at that. Of course not. But, did that mean his secret was safe for now...? "I will be speaking to Lord Belfry before I allow him to see you. You will wait quietly until you are told, and cause no further trouble. Got it?"

"Yes sir."

"Good..." With that, he turned and continued his walking, Lyric following in tow automatically. "Welcome to Belfry Estate."




A lion's den would have been kinder...