LUXUS

Wednesday — 6 days after the death of king Elkin, Year 805 AAD (after Angel's Death)

Orris, Illya

Luxus Lucroy sometimes wondered what would become of his life had he stayed in his hometown and worked for this father. Perhaps he could’ve inherited the family estate, found a wife and had a kid or two. After all, he was now approaching twenty. He saw that old life now as a fading shadow— with each year it seemed to dim further until it became clear as crystal that he would never lead a normal life again. His hands were too filthy. He’d seen too much.

Luxus was completely content to keep fighting, partying, and of course, to never step foot on the soils of Tráola Glainé again, but now as he contemplated his dire situation, regret filled his soul deep and true. Who had he become? Luxus Lucroy no longer existed. He left that name behind the moment he ran from his ancestral home and cast aside his family and fortune. He freed himself from his father’s shadow to live in another’s, clinging onto some foolish hope of freedom.

Luxus had followed Dillon in his bloody wake. He never admitted—not even to himself— that he was afraid of many things, including war and death. Mercenary work wasn’t fit for a coward. They’d all laugh at him if they knew. But Dillon would not, he knew it deep down. Still, he daren’t tell a soul. He would pretend to be brave a little longer.

But now Dillon is dead. Beheaded for poisoning a king. He’d nothing left. He never even got to say goodbye.

So he sat in the dark, knees pushed up against his caved-in stomach–hunched and uncomfortable– and wept. His comrades, himself included, had all been captured and thrown into the dungeons to rot, all for knowing an alleged traitor. Luxus didn’t believe a single word that spewed from their mouths. Refused to. He’d dealt with pompous nobles all his life, after all, he used to be one of them. He knew their tells.

Dillon was a difficult bastard– selfish, stony, reckless and extremely stubborn– but he would never assassinate a king, much less use poison. He’d no reason to. But none of the palace guards listened. They’d made Luxus out to be some sort of babbling madman, so much so that their words sowed the seeds of doubt into the minds of even his own comrades. The men he’d fought and bled beside for many years. They kept their mouths shut but Luxus knew— behind those downcast eyes, they believed the guards. And if they didn’t, well, at least it wasn't their necks the noose was tied around.

As if the guards were listening to his thoughts, footfalls echoed from the corridor. Then, the heavy door of his cell screeched open to reveal three men. His eyes stung from the brightness, but he leaned toward it anyway. Luxus couldn’t see their faces with their backs to the sconce, couldn’t see their expressions. Were they here to kill him? Set him free? But they said nothing as they stood like tall, looming shadows.

“W-why are you doing this to me-”

“Shut your Godsdamned mouth, filth.” A splash of icy water came over him suddenly and the cold felt like knives stabbing into him. He thought himself cold before, but this was the kind of cold that burnt. He folded in on himself further and backed away from the freezing puddle that surrounded him.

“Today’s your lucky day, dog,” One of them sniggered and padded closer until Luxus could feel his presence towering over him. “Today, you can decide if you want to live or die.”

If he were half as brave as Dillon, he’d laugh in their faces and spit at their feet. If he were as strong as Dillon, he’d slit their throats with their own swords. But he wasn’t. He was Luxus and he was scared shitless. He felt like he might piss himself— felt hot tears flowing over his cold, wet cheeks and shivered. So he did what any sane man would; he begged.

“Please let me live,” Luxus sobbed. He tried to shift into a bow but his skin was taut as a bowstring, hard and stiff from the cold. “I’ll do anything.” They erupted into hysterical laughter. He didn’t need to see their faces to know their eyes were full of mocking. It hurt his pride. But better a moment of shame in a long life than to die.

“Come here and beg a little more,” Luxus stilled and didn’t continue to ponder what he’d meant before crawling over the ice-cold water toward their feet.

“Enough.” The men startled and turned sharply at the sound of that voice. Luxus heard the authoritative lilt so he bowed his head and stayed submissive.

“We’re sorry to treat you this way, you must know it is for the safety of Illya.”

Luxus nodded and didn’t dare to look up.

“We will let you go, so listen carefully. ” There was a loud shifting of fabric and Luxus knew the man had knelt down beside him. “King Elkin perished due to old age. Your mercenary dog died from his injuries sustained in battle. And you— you were kept here for attempted theft of silverware. King Vasilis set you free because he is kind. You saw nothing, know nothing and will say nothing other than what I told you. Do you understand?”

Luxus swallowed hard and wondered why they had gone to such lengths to keep Dillon’s death quiet and to brand him a thief. Perhaps there was more to it. But he couldn’t think right. He’d been weak, hungry and tired and with freedom dangling above him and within his reach, he couldn’t focus on anything else.

“One more thing— I will slaughter every single person in your family, babes included, and fuck their corpses if I find out you as much speak the late king’s name.”

Luxus nodded, scared out of his wits not because he cared for his family but because he knew that he would now have to live the rest of his life peaking over one shoulder. Was that a life worth living? He didn’t know. But, he nodded again and bowed and said nothing more as the guards dragged him out of the dungeons and threw him out onto the side roads.

He took a deep breath, thanked the Angels and let the night air pass over him before he staggered to his feet. Orris, the City of Dreams, was not a place that Luxus had ever imagined he would visit, much less be imprisoned in. Though he often dreamed of travelling, mercenary work often took him to hostile corners of the world, fighting some lord’s battles. Never to a city. He was bone-tired when he first entered Orris alongside his company and never had the time to marvel at the sheer enormity of it all.

Built on a gradual incline, the palace sat at its peak, overlooking the city below. Luxus felt as though he was standing at the bottom of a mountain as he peered at the opulent palace. The buildings around him were blocky, with square windows, rising high as a few stories. He’d only ever seen buildings like that in the wealthier district of his hometown. But every building here was tall and clean, with flower pots on window sills and colourful tapestries and banners.

The sky was a beautiful shade of navy as Luxus made his way down the main road. How many people lived in a place like this? Thousands? Tens of thousands? He shivered again, overwhelmed, and headed toward a bright light emanating from the bottom of the road. He heard the music and laughter and drifted toward it as if it beckoned him.

Luxus staggered over the mud-trodden threshold and into the bright, airy tavern. The establishment was small. It was the only building in the area with a single storey, and its windows were lined with shoddy brown curtains that soaked up the stench of sweat, piss and stale ale. The roof was a patchwork of splintered wood, damp from something– it couldn’t be rainwater as Illya was a dry country– and looked as if it might come crashing down at any given moment. Shabby it may be, the tavern was to his surprise, homely.

“What can I get ya?” A pretty barmaid smiled toothily at him as he sauntered to the bar.

“Something strong.”

“A bad night?”

Luxus shrugged, “Something like that.”

“Alright, that'll be two kells.” Luxus snapped his neck to the price of the drink. He’d no money on him and by the look on the barmaid’s face, she knew it, too.

“Don’t tell my da then,” The barmaid bent low and brought out a dusty bottle of wine and plopped it in front of him. “It’s an old thing, probably sour now but that's the only thing I got that’s free.”

Luxus smiled at her, said his thanks and devoured the drink. The wine was thick and sour and worst than he could ever imagine, but Luxus didn’t care. He was now free. So he drank and drank until the music and laughter around him warped and blurred. Until his stomach coiled and bubbled. And the world kept spinning and spinning.

He didn’t know why the bar had suddenly gotten so dark and the air so cold and quiet when it felt like everyone was singing and dancing only moments ago but Luxus needed to badly relieve himself so he staggered over to a tree– or at least he hoped it was a tree– and pulled down his trousers and pissed.

“Son, are you lost?” Luxus heard a voice from the darkness that startled him. He pulled at his trousers too quickly and felt the last drops of piss soak his trousers. He grunted and spun on his heel. Even in darkness, he saw a blurred shadow of a man clad in white.

“Ain’t got nowhere to go, sir.”

“Do you realise that you have defiled the statue of our great Angel, Vrétiel?”

“I-I’d never do such a thing!” Luxus sputtered and walked closer until he bumped straight into the man. “Sorry!” The man sighed long and hard and grabbed Luxus by the shoulder. His grip was a tight and reassuring pressure, holding him in place.

“Tell me your worries, son.”

He didn't know what had come over him but he told his story and kept talking deep into the night until the sky turned a shade of orange. Until the streets were filled with people as they began their day. Luxus didn’t remember anything after that. When he woke, his head felt like it was splitting in half. His stomach was churning and his limbs were stiff as a stick.

He was in a room with dozens of cots, all empty. The bright morning sun shone through beautiful stained-glass windows. “You’re awake. Come with me.” Luxus recognised that voice. He got up and rubbed his eyes and looked up at the man at last. He felt like he was looking at an Angel himself; the priest’s smooth ebony skin, friendly smile and calm aura made Luxus feel safe. Comfortable.

“F-father, I am terribly sorry for last night, I-”

“It’s alright, son. The Gods are not angry.” The priest had a gentle smile as he led Luxus through the long, cold corridors of the temple until they stopped at a room identical to the one he had woken from. Dozens of cots lined either walls and on them, the old, sickly and less fortunate.

“We take those who do not have homes, those who are sick and poor and we let them stay here. We feed them and bathe them and guide them.”

Luxus followed the priest as they made way through the room, and he took in every face he saw. An old man with crooked legs, a child without sight, a girl that was as thin as a wraith; all of them in more dire condition than Luxus. He swallowed and thanked the Angels that he was born healthy and strong and felt a pang of guilt rise in him.

“We do not judge. The Faith is in us all. We must help one another.” The priest held out his hand and Luxus took it willingly. “To take care of those who cannot care for themselves, to guide those who are lost. Perhaps, you too will find your path.”

Luxus couldn’t understand why but as he looked into the eyes of those people and the priest, he felt like his vision had cleared. It was like he had been frozen and now his body was thawing. Perhaps he could atone for his sins. He’d taken many lives and now his path led him to this temple, to help others. Perhaps he could now forge a new path for himself.

“Will you help us?”

Luxus nodded, more sure now than a moment ago– more sure than he’d ever felt in his life. “What should I do, Father?”

The priest turned to him and smiled. “First, tell me your name, son.” There was kindness in his brown eyes and for once, Luxus was not afraid.

“Luxus, Father.” The priest nodded. When he bowed, his clean-shaven head shined in the sunlight. So Luxus bowed beside him in front of a stone altar with swirling black patterns.

“You may call me Father Phillippe,” He raised his chin high and pressed his palms together and Luxus followed. He closed his eyes and breathed deep and felt a thrumming in his blood as he listened and waited for Father Phillippe and the Angels to guide him at last. “Now, we pray.”