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

[One Thread in a Tapestry]

It had only been minutes, but it felt like hours. They had lead Lyric to a private room, dimly lit, where he was to sit down and wait for word on what was next for him. Quietly, Lyric found himself pondering what his options might be. Staying in the quiet dark will invite rouge thoughts to enter anyone's mind. There was a mirror in this room too, the candle by him making one side of his face stand out in his reflection.

Whatever the dress up was for, it must not be for anything good. These clothes were the most expensive things he'd ever worn, but the fact that his pale skin was on display meant that his vampirism must not be something he needed to hide here. Or at least they must have thought so. Was Godroy out looking for someone with vampirism and could just tell at a glance? The women who lined the street, they were hoping to be picked over him. He had mentioned something about his looks when he picked him up... And Zekiel, too, said something about him just being something Lord Belfry liked.

But... The vampirism was clearly not expected. This must have thrown a spanner into their plans. But, did that mean he was doomed? Why have him get dressed? Realistically, these lands were so hostile to people like him, he should expect an execution...

The door opened, shattering his quiet contemplation as he looked to see the familiar sight of the two guards emerging and beckoning him to follow. It was time. Remembering what Zekiel told him, not to speak unless addressed, he remained silent as he nervously stood up to follow them out where he was immediately met with the same heightened pace, challenging himself not to trip over the damn dress yet again, all the way to yet another beautiful set of giant, ornate wooded doors. Why was everything here so damn big? The guards opened the door for him, and what was within looked as glorious as the entry way he had got to admire so briefly.

It looked like a ballroom, but in truth, ballrooms were smaller. What Lyric was looking at was a throne room. Polished floors, open and glorious, and awaiting at the end opposite to where they had emerged was a raised floor, stepping up and up, until it flattened out where a throne rested. There was even a second floor offering viewing angles from on high. Tonight, though, it was vast... And empty. Every step, no matter how quiet he tried to be, echoed slightly into the vastness, room lit by countless lanterns, and light refracted and spread over glimmering crystals from a hanging ornament that looked expensive enough to buy the entire room's value all over again.

Trying not to be star struck again, and luckily too nervous to want to slow down, Lyric treaded out across the large room, heading closer to the foot of the throne where he could meet the man responsible... Zekiel, and, Lyric assumed, Lord Belfry himself.

The throne itself was fashioned like a recliner, wide and cushioned, to allow it's owner to lounge. Though, as Lyric could see, it might have less to do with leisure and more to do with necessity. The man laying across the throne was... Well... Very large. Not large in frame, or large in build, no. Large in a very grotesque, profoundly disturbing way. His stomach was truly enormous, and his arms and legs folded upon themselves in a way Lyric had both never seen before and didn't know was possible. There was a human skeleton somewhere in there? The closer he got, the more unnerved he was. This was... Lord Belfry?

Behind the throne, dark outline unmistakable, was Zekiel. He was staring Lyric down as he approached, but, he also wasn't alone. Godroy, too, standing nearby... Off to the side, stood upon one of the steps leading up to the throne with his arms crossed and looking at Lyric with those sharp hawk-like eyes of his. All attention, Lyric could feel, was squarely upon him... And he couldn't of spoke if he had to. What could he do? Run? No, not now...

The massive man on the throne, draped loosly in what looked like an entire curtain, shifted up in his seat with apparent interest. He had the most striking blue eyes, had they not been covered up by folds of fat partially causing his brows to cover them, and a 'crown' that looked layered with red cloth and gold trimmings. All of it was so lavish it seemed this 'Lord' was going for more of a 'King' in truth.

Lyric came to a stop at the bottom of the steps, folding his hands in front of him as he looked up the steps at them all. All these eyes, and no make up to cover his skin tone, it was burdening him with anxiety. Should he announce himself? Apologize? As he stood now, he looked more like a scared faun.

"What is your name, my dear?" Finally, came a voice. A loud, commanding voice. Perhaps that was the acoustics in this empty place, but at least for Lyric, that is how it came off. Lord Belfry himself, despite his jowls looking like it would prevent such a man from opening his jaw wide enough, managed to sound rather intimidating. Or, soft, in a strange way. Despite the situation, Lyric didn't immediately feel any malice in his question...

"Lyric, my lord." My lord? That came out naturally, without prompting. He was a quick learner when he had to be, and despite not being instructed to do or prepared, he was alert and sharp witted enough to make the correct assumption of who he was, and his title. Not that it would have taken a genius...

"Lyric..." He echoed, like trying out the name on his lips to see how it fit. "What a pretty name." A smile, or at least what Lyric thought was one, stretched across his face and parted the chasm of extra skin to reveal he did indeed have a face somewhere in there. "My advisor has told me you are a vampire..." Lyric could feel his heart sinking, even before Belfry could finish. "Is this true?"

There was that familiar ringing in Lyric's ears. A sense of profound fear that told him to run away. Nervously, he squeezed at his own hand and fingers, eyes darting to Godroy and Zekiel; Must he say it in front of them? Was this a test? Should he be honest? His throat felt so tight, he wasn't sure he could speak if he wanted to. The frightened look must have shown clearly on Lyric's face as, after perhaps a rude pause in giving an answer, he caught sight of Zekiel from behind the throne giving Lyric a knowing nod. Say it, it practically screamed. Admit it.

"I... I..." Lyric was trying, but the moment he opened his mouth and tried to speak, he would lose heart just before it could happen. This damning ringing in his ears, it was drowning his own senses out again. Without realizing it, he had been clutching his own hands all the tighter, climbing closer to his own chest. "I... Am... My lord..."

Somehow, despite everything, he got it out. Realistically, there was no point in denying it. Clearly, Zekiel knew... But, actually speaking it out loud, in front of all of them, with nothing to cover his face... It made his knees weak. Oh, he wanted to just fade away so badly. This was a nightmare.

Within Lyric's hardly contained composure, Zekiel and Belfry suddenly shared some words. Hushed whispers, spoken to one another, as if some things they had conferred with each other had been confirmed. Then, naturally, they looked back to Lyric. "These are dangerous lands for those such as you. Outside of these walls, you would be hunted... "

Wait, 'Outside these walls'? Lyric froze, hands stopping, as he stared up at Lord Belfry.

"You... Should count yourself lucky Godroy found you and brought you to me." The fat lord continued. "And what a specimen you are. Truly, Godroy, you've outdone yourself." To that, Godroy took a bow. But, notably, did not speak. Seemed like a universal rule here not to talk unless otherwise made clear, at least in front of this apparently powerful man. "Come here, my Lyric, approach me."

'My' Lyric? Lyric, still stunned, hesitated but... Not for long. What was this turn of events? He didn't care that he was a vampire? Nervously, Lyric took his time at each step, climbing ever higher and closer to Belfry, seeing the huge hanging curtains that were opened on this occasion. As he reached it's final steps, passing Godroy, and getting a far better look at Lord Belfry than ever... Lyric could smell him...

He smelled fowl. His nose and senses that had him swooning over people like the bard nearly had him flinching with repulsion in the face of this man. He could tell, without even needing a taste, he would taste of grease and inbreeding. Only slightly better than drinking from a beast, which gave him nothing.

"Come closer." He said, a chubby hand lift up to invite him over.

Lyric hadn't even realized he slowed to a stop after getting to the top. He didn't want to get closer. Yet, he did, of course. As the distance between them closed and Lyric found himself looking down at the man, he clammed back up, not wanting to open his mouth and that bothersome smell laboring his breathing. He was... Gross.

Without prompting, Belfry's hand reached up and rested squarely on Lyric's cheek. Then, almost immediately, came off. "Oh, you are so cold!" He said, then chuckled in amusement. "Godroy, bring us wine, that should warm him up. You like wine, do you not?"

Lyric realized the question was meant for him, to which, he wasn't sure what to say. The power imbalance here was so askew, he didn't want to say 'No' to anything this man asked, but... They made him admit to what he was, so... "I... I'm sorry sir, I can't eat food."

"No?" Belfry sounded confused, then made a look back at Zekiel full of questioning.

Apparently taking that as his queue, Zekiel finally spoke. "Not all vampire bloodlines can eat regular food or drink, my lord. Lyric likely can only drink blood."

"Oh? Is that so?" Belfry seemed intrigued and curious more than annoyed, something Lyric was thankful for. It didn't make him any less uncomfortable to be around this man, but at least he didn't seem to upset him so far. "Well, that's quite alright. More for me then." He gave out a labored chuckle again, and Lyric just couldn't make heads or tails of what he should be doing, if anything at all.
"Well my dear, in any case, I want you to feel welcome here at my estate. Thank goodness you've found yourself to me before a hunter found you. Pretty little things like you are already so rare here, but when Zekiel told me of what you were and what it meant, I was elated!"

Pretty? Could boys be pretty? It felt somehow worse coming from someone so ugly on the inside and out. And what did he mean by 'What it meant'? Did his arrival mean anything?

Before Lyric could dare inquire though, Belfry wasn't done. "You've nothing to fear anymore. Lord Belfry himself has you now. Your every need will be met. How do you feel?"

How did he feel? Lyric wasn't sure about that himself. Confused, mostly. This... This seemed both fortunate, and not. Shouldn't they be far more hostile to the likes of him? To what end was this exactly? "I... I'm-"

"No need to feel afraid of me my dear." Belfry interrupted him. "I know it must of been an arduous journey until now. You don't need to thank me quite yet, I know that will come in time." A laugh emerged from his chest. "Poor thing." He looked to Godroy, "See to it this one finds their room. It is so late into the night, I'm sure they wish to settle."

"Yes, Lord Belfry." Godroy answered, moving to Lyric immediately and sounding far more proper than he was when they last talked in the carriage.

"My own sleep calls me..." As if on purpose, a yawn caught Belfry in the moment to punctuate the moment. "But I do look forward to learning more about you in the morrow, my dear." Lyric felt a tug; Godroy had grasped him by his arm again. Looking up at him, Lyric realized it was to keep him from actually saying anything. Once more, this was a hurried process, where he apparently didn't get to speak much at all.

"My servants will tend to you. I will see to it that whatever accommodations you need you will have. Tomorrow, after a wink of sleep, we will become well acquainted I assure you." That seemed directed at Lyric, though what followed was for Godroy. "Take them away."

Oh, how quickly the welcoming tone turned to indignance. Just as quickly as he seemed so pleased to have a vampire in his abode, he ordered him away like he was turning down another slice of food. Not that this man seemed one to turn down food. In a moment, Godroy was pulling him down the steps, and Lyric was harshly reminded to both keep up and stay quiet by the sheer force with which Godroy tugged him along. In his difficult stumbling, Lyric looked back once more at the throne to see Zekiel whispering once again with Belfry...

Whatever this was, there was no way this all had to do with some kind of good hearted nature on Lord Belfry's part. This stunk of conspiracy, and Lyric was somehow going to be a part of it, like it or not. Fate had once again set Lyric to an unusual circumstance, and as he was pulled along outside the bounds of the throne room, Lyric could only wonder what this place possibly had in store for him.