A Trail of Blood

The sun rises.

Raum finds Aquila at court and pulls him aside for a chat.

He starts by questioning this heir business, just to hear Aquila’s spin. It’s nothing exciting. Essentially a word-for-word recap of the Barons’ thoughts on the matter, as if Aquila had been eavesdropping the whole time. Aquila doesn’t confirm Raum as the heir, though, and it’s unclear whether this evasion is political or just plain coy. Actually the more Raum presses — noting it’s the only thing that makes sense, outright asking ‘why me?’ — the more Aquila evades. Heir or not, nobility is an amazing gift horse. Picking at its teeth is uncouth.

Raum swallows the sudden lump in his throat, and drops the subject, ashamed. Aquila wants him to stay docile. If he wishes to communicate trust to Aquila, he should abide that until Aquila’s satisfied. Seeing Raum’s guilt, Aquila forgives the nosiness easily as just natural curiosity.

With that squared away, Raum switches topics to Reyl. Aquila’s mood hardens into seriousness as he confesses that, for two weeks of progress, all he’s found is places she isn’t.

She’s still missing. But she’s still in the country. With only these light guidelines to contaminate his thought process, Aquila requests Raum’s insight on what she would want, how she would think, and where she would move.

What does she want? Raum. Whether to protect him from perceived dangers, or from simple affection, Reyl will want to reclaim Raum before she skips the country. Whatever actions she’s taken these past weeks carry the ultimate intention of claiming, kidnapping, or manipulating Raum.

How does she think? Mercenary. Despite appearances, and despite her temper, she’s a level-headed problem solver who snatches advantages anywhere she can get them. She neither invests into uncertainties without an escape, or misses opportunities from playing too cautious. Her mindset focuses on achieving goals, with constant cost/benefit factoring. Wherever benefit outweighs cost, she goes.

Aquila interjects that Raum has painted a picture of someone with extremely high drive, and extremely low compunctions about their methods.

Raum uneasily confirms this is true.

Aquila then asks, since this needs establishing, what he actually wants done with Reyl once she’s found.

Though pleasant fantasies of conciliation again float through his mind, Raum ultimately concedes no. She needs to be locked up. In the basement of the Whitewood Manor, maybe. Though Raum recognises what a deranged solution this is, the thought of having her again makes him genuinely too happy to care. Aquila comments that this is insanity but doesn’t discourage it, not really concerned. Aquila’s apathetic support of questionable behaviours in this case leaves Raum outrageously relieved and grateful.

So, final question.

Where would she go? With no elaboration, riding purely on intuition, Raum says: Sebilles.

Aquila closes his eyes and puts his fingertips to his brow, a tic to suppress strong emotion. Aquila has clearly considered, dismissed, and purposefully ignored this possibility. Raum’s confirmation means he cannot do so anymore. Aquila’s gears spin as the seconds stretch on, one, two…

Raum wrestles back the urge to call: are you alright? Aquila composes himself on his own, though an unreadable blankness lingers in his stare.

Sebilles is Raum’s intuitive guess. What are are the actual leads? Raum questions, eager for any tidbits on Reyl.

Aquila purses his mouth as if pricked. An uncharacteristic flash of guilt, and hesitation, shades his expression as he deliberates on what to say. This unease dispels the strange blankness, and for the ominousness of Aquila being uncertain, it makes him look far more human.

Carefully, Aquila asks Raum to prepare himself for rather poor news…

Raum’s heart clenches, horrified.

The room’s frigid air wafts between shelves packed full of rectangular stone boxes. It prickles Raum’s skin, like needles of ice, though he neither shudders nor shivers. His thoughts churn in circles, like a thick mass of sludge, unconcerned with the physical chill.

He sits upon a stool, in an isolated space, where he stares into a particular casket.

It finally happened, he thinks.

This didn’t need to happen!, his mind wails.

The body laying in the stone casket before him is that of his mother, Desiree Blackthorne.

Her pristine skin is spattered with deep, violent stab wounds. Whoever attacked her did so with incredible anger. Despite that, she smiles peacefully — no, blissfully, as if she’s having a wonderful dream. Like everything involving his mother, even that happiness is wrong.

He doesn’t feel like crying. She was truly a horrible person.

But…

“Can you resurrect her?" Raum glances over his shoulder to Aquila.

Aquila sets his fist to his chin like a judge, before sagging his shoulders in surrender.

—They are in a mortuary on the palace grounds, where Desiree’s corpse has been stored for the past two weeks. Aquila’s bad news was, naturally, that of her murder.

Though the stab wounds alone verify it as Reyl’s handiwork, Aquila has confirmed it as thus:

She was found dead in an abandoned shack in Indris’ slums, after a recent discharge from the hospital. Severe blunt force trauma to the back of the head had kept her admitted for days, under round-the-clock care. But when the situation exploded in Joliet, and the surge of wounded overwhelmed the hospitals there, surplus patients flooded into Indris.

While medics were struggling to triage this inflow, a distinctive girl with only one eye appeared at the clinic. She demanded Desiree discharged, claiming to be her daughter. With the pressure growing, and with Desiree already treated as much as the hospital could manage, this was permitted without much thought. They were grateful for a free bed.

This all happened about two weeks ago. Aquila’s known the whole time.

Aquila answers Raum’s question. Regrettably, he can’t resurrect her; he would need her soul for that. Given that it was absent, Aquila suspects it was destroyed shortly after her death as per Ordish custom… and if not, enough time’s passed that it would be too late to do anything anyway.

Understanding, Raum lapses back into silence.

Two goddamn weeks. He knew things weren’t resolved, that he still needed to act. But what did he do? Sat in bed giggling over what a wonderful new life he’d have with Aquila coddling him as his special wee pawn. Raum was a comfort-drunk idiot who pushed what mattered aside all because some cute stranger told him to.

And what was Aquila doing! How did he mess up this bad… unless, did he mess up?

Aquila’s failure to confirm Sebilles during those two weeks means he simply doesn’t think finding Reyl is important. At least, less important than controlling Raum. But then if he really wanted to keep Raum leashed he shouldn’t have told him Desiree died! Catch Reyl first and let her break the news! Then Raum would blame Reyl! It would be perfect!

Aren’t you some chessmaster? Don’t you plan everything? Then what plan is this? The plan to make me stop trusting you?

What fucking half-measures.

“I’ve hurt you, haven’t I," Aquila mutters with contemplation and regret.

Raum’s shoulders sag. How can he even respond to that.

Raum presses his palms to his eyes, but still can’t shed any tears. His emotions are tangled, numb.

He wishes he could convince himself, as he would naturally assume when dealing with most people, that Aquila has no ulterior motive to this.

“Yeah," Raum finally replies. “I’m thinking more about you than her."

Actually, reaching down, hugging her, and crying into her chest feels like a more attractive option than trying to comprehend an inch of what goes on in Aquila’s brain. Reyl and Desiree — fuck, they were mean, but at least they were open.

“I don’t want to compromise my position with you any further. I recognise you may not forgive me, but please take that much as truth," Aquila says. Raum can’t laugh at the insensitivity of these words. It’s just snake language for ‘sorry’.

Raum raises his hand to his shoulder, hovering just over his skin. Taking the cue, Aquila slips his hand beneath Raum’s, leans against the back of his neck, drapes over him in an embrace. No vital warmth radiates from him, only the material warmth of his feathers, as if someone’s propped Raum’s head with a blanket. But it’s soft, and not unpleasant, so Raum accepts it as enough.

After some time in silence, Raum goes to slide the lid of the casket closed. Aquila advises him to say farewell to Desiree, while he waits outside, giving Raum privacy. The sliding door to the room clicks closed.

Wonder if he’s going to lock me in here or something. It’s stupid how that feels possible, Raum thinks to himself and snorts. Maybe he’s just an optimistic over-sentimental over-emotional gullible fuck affection whore, but that stupid apology hug has reassured him Aquila truly does not mean to misuse him.

Raum refocuses on Desiree. His mouth eddies between a stern frown and a wince, his emotions too muddled to express.

He reaches into the casket, tilts her head sideways. Despite treatment and embalming, the entire back of her skull is a mush, flexing from convex to concave at the lightest pressure.

Raum’s eyes widen. Holy hell. How’d you live through that? Thank you, though, that you did… and he sets her back to her original position. Her rapturous smile feels like some proud reply. Oh Jackie, I love you, of course I wouldn’t hurt you like that.

Yeah, raise hell, you old bitch.

You were awful, but I did love you.

As he slides up the lid, he says, “Night mom. I’ll get them to put you somewhere nice, with flowers…"

That same joyful smile glows up at him in reply.

He feels a sad smile rise on his own face.

Yeah. That’s a good ending.

She would’ve liked that.

Raum exits the morgue to the hall where Aquila is waiting. The persistent glow that has been hanging around him, ever since the incident with Toreas on the bridge, is gone. For the first time, Raum feels he is observing Aquila as someone very fallible and average.

“I truly am sorry," he says.

It’s not really fine, but the only option is to pretend that it is.

I hope my failings haven’t made you regret your decision, Aquila continues. Though his tone is light and somehow jesting, the question behind it is not. Raum so answers seriously, and affirms that they haven’t. His investment in this country is more than just Aquila.

Raum wants Desiree frozen and installed in a meadow, as per Ordish funerary rites. Aquila explains that Asphodel is too warm for that to work with normal ice, but he can compensate with similar substitutes. Raum accepts this, and they agree to tackle the details – locations, chemicals – later.

For now, Raum wants to talk about Reyl.

Properly, this time.