6.

Preparations for a one man war

The viscount wore the same smile he always had when he greeted Dominic the next morning—sunlight filtering in beautifully through the high window, a smile which fit his image of a frail, harmless old man perfectly, a smile Dominic could hardly even see through the impenetrable stench of his mana. It had been bad when they’d first met, but every time he was healed, it only got stronger. At this point, it was like the thick folds of a mudslide.

“Ah…” The viscount sighed in relief as he felt healing power surging through his body. “You really are a wonder, Dominic.”

Dominic smiled graciously as he let go.

“I am simply performing my duty to the lord.”

“Silas, come check me.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Silas moved over, closing his eyes as he held the viscount’s hand in his.

“The treatment has finished,” he said after he finished his inspection. “You are fully healed now, my lord.”

“Amazing.”

He lifted his hand and flicked it towards the door, signaling for Silas to go.

“Leave us for a moment,” he said. “I’d like to talk to the healer.”

The demon nodded and stood. He sent one glance over his shoulder at Dominic on his way out, then closed the door behind him.

“Come closer,” the viscount requested, motioning for Dominic to take a seat beside him. Dominic quietly obeyed.

“Say, Dominic,” he said, taking his hand, “can you tell me more about yourself?”

Dominic’s expression stiffened at the contact. Just being in close proximity to the viscount was hardly bearable.

“I heard that you came out of the fog one day,” he continued. “It is such a peculiar story that I can’t help but be curious.”

Dominic considered his options for a moment, then put on a slightly embarrassed look.

“To be honest,” he said, “my memories are jumbled. I can’t seem to recall anything from before I came here. Perhaps it is side effects from the fog. I’m not sure.”

“Nothing at all?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s strange…”

The viscount tilted his head as if innocently confused.

“I could have sworn that when you first arrived, Silas reported to me that you’d confirmed you weren’t from any of the surrounding territories.”

Dominic froze for a moment before relaxing again.

“Since I couldn’t remember anything, I didn’t recognize the names,” he reasoned. “I apologize if my words were misunderstood.”

“So that’s how it was,” the viscount replied, nodding. “But, you see, I looked into it further. I’m a lord after all; I just wanted to be safe, but I couldn’t find any record of somebody like you anywhere on the continent.”

“Are you sure you’ve checked everywhere? It has only been a few days.”

“I am sure.”

He smiled softly, but his eyes were viscous.

“On the other hand, are you sure you’re truly from here, Dominic?”

The viscount slipped his bony hand out of his grip. Dominic had to hold himself back from scratching the residual, slimy mana off his own skin.

“Nothing can be done about your memories being gone,” he said, playing along with the lie. “But I cannot just let you go like this.”

“What will you do?”

The viscount smiled wide.

“I will do what is best for the territory,” he replied.

“I am unfamiliar with what that might be.”

“I am going to have you clear a path into the fog.”

There it was. Thelo had warned him about this inevitability. Once his use as a healer had disappeared, the lord would send him to what they all believed was a deathtrap.

“From what I’ve heard, isn’t that dangerous?” he said.

“Pioneers will always face danger,” the viscount answered.

Dominic had to hold himself back from shooting him an obvious glare. The viscount was clearly referring to himself as the trailblazing pioneer, despite being at no risk himself. Instead, he put on a doubtful expression, hoping it was convincing. Although he had confirmed once that the fog wouldn't kill him, he needed the viscount to think that it would.

“Still, Lord, I’m unwilling,” he replied. “To do something so reckless when my memories are still muddled…”

“Dominic.”

He took his hand with a smile, then pulled Dominic closer.

“You don’t have to be willing.”

His voice had changed, taking on a low, threatening tone. His true colors were beginning to shine through. It was as Thelo had said. He couldn’t stand people who didn't obey him.

“If you aren’t willing, then I’ll just give you a different reason to go.”

The viscount lifted his hand. Dominic looked down. In his palm was a single, crumpled black feather. A crow’s feather. His jaw tensed.

“…What have you done?” he asked, voice low.

He had been keeping tabs on Aster the past few days, heeding Thelo’s warning just in case. He hadn’t felt anything of note.

“Don’t worry,” the viscount replied calmly. “I haven't even touched a hair on his head yet. I am just…keeping a watchful eye out for him.”

They must have picked up a feather he’d shed. Dominic’s fist closed around it.

“He’s so young and hopeful,” he continued. “It would be such a shame if that were cut short.”

Dominic bit his lip and stayed silent. The viscount glanced at him and smiled. He leaned in close, the stench of his mana overtaking his senses.

“Did you know this, Dominic?” he said, voice ringing beside his ear. “The second vertebrae is the easiest one to cut.”

For a moment, Dominic almost forgot that he was only pretending to be reluctant to go. His hand clenched so hard his knuckles turned white. The thought of just reaching over and squeezing the viscount’s neck right then and there flashed through his mind. He forcibly erased it. He had to remind himself that Aster was safe, Aster would be safe, the lord would not get his way, and he would not fall for his provocations.

“…Tell me what you want me to do,” Dominic finally responded.

The viscount smiled in satisfaction, taking it as agreement.

“I will call for you when all the preparations are finished,” he said. “Be good and wait for your turn.”

Dominic nodded, trying not to let his lingering anger show. He stood and moved away from the bed.

“I will be taking my leave now.”

He turned and made his way out of the room, waiting for the door to close softly behind him before looking down at his hands. The black feather had been completely crushed in his grip. He let it fall to the ground and headed down the hall.

The viscount had outwardly agreed not to touch Aster if Dominic did what he asked, but he was not going to count on it. He needed to return to his room and prepare, but before he could go far, a tall, broad figure blocked his path. He glanced up. Chalky white horns and dark blue robes. A look of disdain. It was Silas, the viscount’s most loyal servant and personal physician.

Dominic tried ignoring him and going around. No luck. He stuck out an arm to block him again.

“Your execution has been set, hasn’t it?” Silas said.

“…Yes,” Dominic replied, unsure of why he was asking.

The demon’s expression worsened the longer he stared at him.

“There’s something wrong with you,” he said. “I know it. There’s something horribly wrong with you.”

His opinion of Dominic hadn’t been this bad to begin with, as the person most concerned about the viscount’s health. But it seemed that it had gone exponentially downhill. Perhaps he had started to realize something.

Silas ground his teeth.

“You’re doing something,” he said. “What is it? What are you planning?”

“Wouldn’t you have known already if there was anything?” Dominic replied bluntly. “Besides, I’m going to be dead soon.”

Silas glared down at him intensely, but didn’t argue back. If there really had been any dangers to the viscount’s health, then he would’ve been the first to know, after all.

“I know you’re doing something,” he finally replied, seething through his teeth, “I know it.”

Despite his rash demeanor, he was pretty sharp.

“Dammit…” he mumbled to himself, clicking his tongue. “Forget this. Talking to you is useless.”

He pushed Dominic away and passed him, continuing down the hall without looking back.

Dominic watched Silas’s receding figure for a second, then turned and continued back towards his room. One interruption was not going to change his plans. He had a lot to do.

The door softly shut behind him, leaving him finally alone. It was fortunate that Aster was good at hiding. It wouldn’t be hard for a bird to lay low.

Dominic closed the windows and shut the curtains. He spread out a thin layer of his mana and sealed the room from the inside. He knew somebody had to be watching him during his entire stay at the castle, and they weren’t allowed to see this.

He took a veil he’d asked a maid to get him from the table. He’d actually wanted a mask, but she’d left a piece of cloth that would cover the lower half of his face instead. Maybe that was just how it had translated.

Dominic sat on the floor and spread it out flat. He put his fingertip to the cloth and started drawing.

Symbols and formations emerged, glowing with his mana, and darkened like ink. This was what he didn’t want anyone to see. He’d been observing the workings of the castle and the city quietly for the past week, and he’d realized that there was very little in the way of magic engineering. In Vaine it was in every part of life, from machines to medicine to magic spells, but he’d hardly seen any devices on the estate that operated similarly.

If they didn’t have a great knowledge of the subject, then it would be way too suspicious if Dominic started programming spells in broad daylight. In the worst case, they’d make him extend his stay and postpone his ‘execution’ to investigate it. He couldn’t have that. He wanted to get out.

He wasn’t a magic engineer, but he knew a few useful designs. The mana at the tip of his finger burned glyphs and characters into the veil, forming several linked circular structures. When he finished the design and picked up his finger, nothing glowed or flashed. There was no dramatic reveal. The letters remained an inky black. But it was done.

He folded it and tucked it into his sleeve, unsealing the room—welcoming back in whichever eyes were watching him. A scent that resembled the stale, damp air of a basement room seeped slowly back in—a specific mana signature he’d started to recognize in the past few days.

The veil would come into use once night fell. Dominic threw open the curtains, and waited.

∞

The sky was a deep black by the time he decided to move. In the distance, outside the estate, the lights of the entertainment district burned yellow and white. It hummed with energy even in the depth of night. The tail stuck to Dominic was still with him, the scent and location of their mana having never changed.

He took out the mask he’d made. He put a finger to the center of the design on the cloth and concentrated a bit of mana into it. It lit up golden instantly, the letters almost seeming to click into place like gears. The spell was active.

He put the veil on, looping it around his ears so it hung over the bottom half of his face, leaving only his eyes visible. The magic design was hidden, facing the inside, but it still glowed softly.

Dominic undid the latch on the window and pushed it open, pausing to give the spy just enough time to rouse from their idle state.

There was a pulse of mana that came from the direction of the city, heavy and alive. There had to be swathes of people out there, dancing and shouting and holding each other. He wondered how many of their paths he’d cross today and never again. He wondered if he’d be remembered by those unlucky strangers. He wondered if Aster would still follow him there, circling above, watching from afar. He wondered where he’d be at the end of the night.

Dominic glanced over at the lights of the city one more time, then jumped down.