“And he is no longer welcome inside our walls. A necessary precaution, for everyone's safety.” Grimtale added as Robin's look of confusion changed at once.
“To say I’m shocked would be the understatement of the century. I never would have taken him as a traitor, but what do I know, he was only a baker to me,” he scratched at his chin, “if I may ask, what - what was the consequence?”
Magenta and Grimtale turned to one another, then sharply back to the curious Robin.
“A forced existence without love or trust. One where each passing day you beg for it to be your last until it inevitably begins again, over and over…”
“Enough of that, Magenta. You’ll give the poor man nightmares. You can’t be doing with those, not on your first night in this creepy place,” echoed the distant voice of Silverstein as he began his journey towards them, his metallic shoes clapping sharp against the marble and his perfectly coiffed hair standing rigid like daggers as the light caught the silver tipped fibres.
“It’s morning, sir,” replied Robin, forcing a smile and raising his head in hope of deterring the oppressive ego that had begun to radiate from Silverstein’s inflated chest as he flounced by, arriving beside Magenta, who couldn't help but inhale his bitter-sweet scent as it wafted from the inners of his jacket.
“I stand corrected,” he grinned, “- but it’s been an awfully long night, we’re running on empty. So perhaps we’d all benefit from a little shut eye?” he said rhetorically, throwing up his hands and glancing over his shoulder to what he must have considered his personal audience, still waiting patiently to greet Robin.
“I’m sorry, Robin. Will you be ok if we take a quick nap?” asked Magenta, with a sincere look of concern in her eyes.
“Hey! Of course I will, I was one of the lucky ones who managed to get a little kip,” he chuckled, feeling ever so slightly bad for everyone as they stood wearily before him. He could see the exhaustion reflecting in Grimtale's eyes, they were slightly bloodshot and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he was suppressing a yawn, but he disguised it well, rustling his stubby fingers through the wiry texture of his beard.
“Professor Yuri… “ called Grimtale.
“Yes, Headmaster,” he replied, squeezing between Silverstein and Magenta, delighted to finally be a part of the gathering that had formed around Robin.
“Am I correct to recall you saying earlier that you were going to pass on bed rest this morning?”
He quickly fastened his bow tie and pressed his delicate spectacles to the bridge of his nose, “well, yes I had considered it, Headmaster. I believe I can sleep when I’m dead, and especially at a time like the present I think it’s only morally correct for me to watch over the grounds while all of you sleep -”
Yuri nervously switched his gaze between Grimtale and Robin, he had never been the most confident, always a shy boy and no matter how well he tried to hide it, it was always distinguishable through subtle mannerisms. Like the rubbing of his hands as his eyes flickered from Grimtale to Robin, and occasionally to the ground where there was no one to glare back at him. It was like a safety net - a product of the inadequate self confidence.
“- besides, I have errands that require completion. I believe you will enjoy my recent discovery, Professors.” He added, standing awkwardly in his tatty, multi coloured waistcoat and dark, hole ridden trousers that levelled just above the ankles, exhibiting his bright white socks and well worn brogues.
“Then if it’s not too much to ask, would you show Mr Occamy to his lodge and perhaps spare some time to answer any burning questions he may have? I’m sure he will feel more comfortable asking, when not overshadowed by strangers.”
Yuri nodded frantically, “most certainly, it would be an honour. Am I to take him to his lodge?”
“His lodge, Professor.”
“Very well,” he concluded.
Magenta had already been swept under Silverstein's arm as he impatiently waited for the others to finish.
“We shall be off, but we’ll congress again at midday.”
Grimtale stepped forward, “Yes, we will all gather inside the chamber. Those who are sleeping, rest well, we have troubled days to come.”
As Grimtale brought the reunion to a close, Silverstein and Magenta were the first to disperse. Robin had caught a smile and a delicate wave of her hand as she was swept away. The rest were still waiting to introduce themselves as Robin, Yuri and Grimtale slowly began coasting towards the giant chamber doors that were left ajar, following the sound of Silverstein’s shoes, clapping against the marble, then granite floor.
Lillian held out her hand, walking in synch with the group.
“Lillian Vargov, It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mr Occamy.”
Lillian was predominantly the youngest, no older than twenty five, which Robin recognised as he collected her unwrinkled hand and smiled, taking a friendly note of her elvish looking ears and elongated nose. He wasn’t accustomed to seeing such features, but he chose not to pass judgment - she seemed kind.
He shook her hand, “Lovely to meet you, Lillian.”
She had a sharp sparkle in her eye and seemed to somewhat admire him - if only he understood why, but he was certain things would fall in to place now that he had arrived where answers resided. Everything about the Institute excited him, so much so he had shamefully forgotten about the realm where he had supposedly spent his entire life. The sights, the people, the looming journey of self discovery, it had suppressed his heavy heartache and welcomed him with open arms, when all along his greatest fear was being apart from the ones he loved, but now he knew for certain, he was going to be fine.
As the five of them made their way in to the council chamber, the fifth and final professor stuck his head forward and glared intently at Robin.
“Teppi Lint, charms master…”
Teppi was short, middle aged with a obvious Asian heritage and a plaited patch of facial hair that hung from his chin.
“- I shall catch up with you later in the day, good sir.” There was a clap as he threw his hands together. He took a bow and then he was gone, before Robin had a chance to speak, but once again, he seemed nice, he thought as he witnessed everyone disappearing beyond the hidden segregated exits, behind the shining thrones that surrounded the Phoenix monument which sat as a centerpiece, a crown jewel at the heart of the council chamber.
Silence had fallen, it was then just the three of them. Robin, Yuri and Grimtale, staring up as the premature sun rained down on the sky dome, illuminating the ruby Phoenix, its streaky crimson hues cast raw across the flesh of their faces.
“I would highly encourage you to explore the grounds, but you must remember if you do, the two realms are nothing alike, you will make discoveries and cross paths with things you won’t yet understand; however, the realm you now crave was only ever temporary - this is where you belong, Robin. This is where you made your name.”
Robin continued to look up towards the sky dome, his thoughts latched tightly on to his fiancé and daughter, who were locked firmly in his heart.
“Stick with Professor Yuri, or if you’re feeling brave, take a wander. It might do you some good.”
Robin caught a trusting sparkle in Grimtales eye, then he reverted his gaze back up at the sky and the pinkish storm clouds that were revolving violently, triggering Robin with an overwhelming realisation - he was much further from home than he had ever hoped to be.
CHAPTER 11
Between The Towers
It didn’t take Robin long to realise just how loquacious Professor Yuri was, he could talk for both worlds when he was in the right frame of mind. He hadn’t stopped since they left the council chamber and by now it was clear to conclude there didn’t seem to be a bad bone in his body. By the way he so keenly chatted as if often starved of company it was all too obvious that perhaps he didn’t have many friends he could entrust, but somehow, for some reason, Robin had been on the receiving end of details of quite an array of Yuri’
s top secret experiments. He had listed them as they made their way up a long winding stairwell that led high into the Institute towers.
“It feels strange,” Robin said, “I’d be at work on a normal day, yet it still doesn’t feel right. I look out of the window and I see a sky that they cannot. It’s a little disorientating, you know?”
“Well it’s only a reflection - the sky I mean. The Morient world is like, well, imagine turning a jumper inside out. We’re just on the inside and your partner, is on the outside,” Yuri explained, stopping beside a viewing ledge.
“I’m not sure how that would make me more comfortable,” Robin chuckled, edging closer to Yuri, capturing the sight, “- just look at those clouds, I’ve never seen anything like it before. They’re beautiful, enchanting but... it’s not home.”
Yuri glanced across at Robin, his eyes glistening with the electric pink of the flossy masses as they drifted overhead.
“It’s going to be tough, the next twenty four hours. Assuming that’s all I’m required for?”
Yuri removed his spectacles and rubbed away the trapped dirt from his nose.
“I believe so, however the size of the task is somewhat ambitious, but with you now at hand, we’ll be in and out before the Reapers have a chance to respond.”
There was that curious look in his eyes again as Robin turned to Yuri.
“We’ll be in and out of where?”
He had asked the question but already had a good idea what the answer would be, but even so, it was just a hunch until Yuri confirmed with his reply.
“Shoulders Heath, the land situated beyond the black mountain.”
Its whereabouts didn’t need explaining, as Robin knew of it all too well. He was always reminded of its sinister presence on a weekly, sometimes daily basis when missing posters would materialise on the lamp posts and shop windows - missing persons as the result of curious expeditions. No one had ever returned. None had ever been found, dead or alive. The thought didn’t sit well with Robin, it churned his stomach and made him feel rather sick, but the calm in Yuri’s voice was somewhat inspiring; after all, maybe there were forms of protection for Morient kind, secrets yet to be shared that would suggest not all was doom and gloom, as they continued on their way, up towards the alchemist lodges.
* * *
The alchemist lodges were rather unusual pieces of architecture. They were round solid stone structures dotted in a zigzag pattern along a gloomy, torch lit tunnel that connected the two institute towers. Each had a heavy wooden door and was home to the professors that worked there, like a holiday home away from home; however for some, it was the only comfort they had ever known. Working there meant that a roof over their head was a given, and that kind of security was something that no sane man or woman would passed up, no person with Morient blood inhabiting their veins. Togetherness was strength, it was power in a time that was threatened with the return of the darkest of evils ever known.
Magenta loved living inside the institute, and now had finally slipped in to something less vibrant, something rather thin and delicate that complimented the curves of her body perfectly. Silverstein had noticed, admiring her from afar as she sat at the foot of their large, luxurious bed while he stood at the dresser, casting an intense expression as he brushed through his soft silver hair.
“You look nice,” he remarked.
Magenta smirked, flicking her wand at the heavy fabric curtains which suddenly drew to close, concealing the stone window and the rays of light from the sun. The room was now lit only by candle light. Thick orange candle sticks were dotted around the room in various locations: tabletops, bedside tables, the dresser and they were oozing graciously as the flame burned away at the wax. They had cast a warm, romantic glow about the bedroom as Silverstein began undressing: first removing his jacket and then his dusty shoes.
“These will need a clean. Still, it was good to meet the man,” he said, bending over to untie his laces.
“Yes, it’s good to have him back. It’s been too long,” she agreed.
Silverstein looked up at Magenta as he pulled off his first shoe.
“You’ll have to tell me more about him, so I know what to talk about when I see him again.”
“Well, there’s not much to tell, not really, nothing you don’t know already,” she explained, slumping back in to the bed and placing her wand upon her chest.
“I noticed a little tension between the two of you,” she added.
Magenta watched as Silverstein made a chuckle, still bent over, untying the second strand of laces.
“We’re men, it was merely a clash of egos. Please tell me you noticed that...”
“Noticed what?” she asked with a look of confusion.
“How self-righteous he was. Strolled in as if he owned the place!”
“Maybe it’s his way of dealing with fear. He’s a long way from the human world. It takes a lot to put on a brave face.” Magenta watched Silverstein intently as he rose from the end of the bed and made his way over, their locked gaze matched depth and equal understanding.
“I really don’t know what people see in that human realm.”
“Leonard,” Magenta said sternly with a frown of disapproval “ - just because you’ve had the privilege of darting between both, doesn’t mean you can assume you know what it’s like to live there! It’s the only place he’s known, he’s bound to be fond of it now, his family are there.”
“Privilege? But didn’t you say he’s from here? The Morient realm?”
He asked that question as he slumped on to the bed, leaning in with his silky white shirt unbuttoned, and his fist resting firmly against his jaw, looking intently into Magenta’s eyes.
“Some time ago.”
As lost as she wanted to be in his gaze, Magenta now looked away, to the deep red curtains with golden floral embroidery as her thoughts shifted to another time and place.
“It’s funny because nothing's changed, not much anyway. Just that our hearts fell heavy that day.”
Silverstein wrapped his arm around Magenta’s shoulder and pulled her close. He waved his hand over her face and her perfect skin began to quake as a charm slowly disintegrated and dispersed like a stream of fairy dust, pulling away from the frame of her face and sparkling bright as embers, glowing as warm as a candle flame.
“You need not look back on that day as one of dismay,” he gently ran his hand down the side of her cheek, then across to the long raw scar that split her eyebrow and ran thin along her forehead, “- only the beginning of great things to come. Revenge, revolution... peace. It’s purely a reminder of what you’re fighting for, Magenta.”
Her eyes briefly reflected a longed for victory as she imagined herself making the final blow to the devil. Succeeding where he had failed, gauging away the eyes from his mutated skull...
“The Count will regret ever coming to Vinemoore.”
Magenta glanced up at Silverstein as he held her in a comforting embrace.
“I can promise that much and I don’t speak empty words,” she added with buried rage, boiling deep within her.
Silverstein pulled gently on her chin, raising her head in line with his and then he pounced, locking lips with his lover, to extract the darkness from her soul and ignite a flame of love and desire that simmered, then burned in long lasting passion as the two of them held each other tightly. Only the walls of the room shared their intimacy as they stole this precious time to own in celebration of their love, nothing mattering but each other for as long as they held on together.
Damp from the heat of shared paradise as they began to cast the world outside away and lay in a lasting embrace, Magenta silently realised, no matter what was saddled to the day ahead, there was nothing better than time alone with her lover. Whatever fate had in store she knew as she ran her hand down her partner's chest, that she felt free of danger – at least for now - but all the same, she was afflicted by the fear of a future without him, sleeping alone, with the cold nipping at
her spine. She’d swiftly decided that this temporary, mortal life was cruel, but she was now the happiest she could ever be, wrapped in his slender arms that caged her like a prison, a prison that she had no hope or desire to break from.
Her lover had also been thinking, and as he kissed her again, he had drawn a conclusion of his own. For a man who enjoyed bathing in his own appreciation, Silverstein knew in her arms, he had softened, exposing his most vulnerable side as he silently accepted that even the world's greatest men and women required a spot of sleep - in good time, of course.
* * *
The sun was shining weakly, casting beautiful trails of dim pink light through the slender gap between Grimtale’s purple velvet curtains. His lodge bore similarities to Magenta and Silverstein’s. It was oval shaped but slightly larger, allowing for more furniture and decoration. But Grimtale wasn’t one for bare and bland - within hours of being promoted to Headmaster, he’d stitched a handful of metallic silver stars to the curtains. They still hung heavy across his viewpoint, now a little faded, reflecting the twenty years of sunrises.
Even the cold brick walls were hidden behind rugs and tie dyed fabrics that he had hung up himself, each with a recurring tone of luxurious purple, contrasting the rusty browns and inky blue hues that inhabited most of the designs. There was also a selection of moderately sized, rectangular mirrors dotted around the room, with a selection of different coloured scarves draped over the tops, adding a little warmth to their cold metallic frames. At the foot of his large wooden bed was a tatty brown trunk, with a pair of heavy duty padlocks restraining it closed.
Beyond that was an opening, followed by two small stone steps that descended into a smaller pocket room that none of the other lodges had. This was where he housed his tall oak cabinets, the books that sat upon the cabinet shelves and a large chest of drawers, which also doubled as a station to work at - one that was currently in use.
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