Fable - Ask Time to Feed

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Akiza Sonshal

Akiza Sonshal

Gildan Devil
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The oppressive sun's light weighed down on her more heavily when she was thirsty.

Akiza walked in the light of the day and pretended like all was well. She pretended like she was but a "Penitent", as those with magic were called here in Gild, and not something more...dangerous. But the thirst gnawed at her. It gnawed at her and she was reluctant to do what she had always done when taking shelter in cities across the world.

It was part of the deal, wasn't it? The deal she had willingly accepted. Shortly after arriving in Gild, she had been caught; she, admittedly, underestimated the Gildans, and knew nothing of the "Regulators" of their Church. But the man who caught her, Boesarius Terral, did not kill her. Instead, he had made her an offer, one that was hard to refuse when she was hanging from chains and completely at his mercy. If she joined and swore allegiance to this secretive group of "Devils" of which he was a part, then she would be spared. Of course she took the deal. She was a survivor.

Three catches came with the deal. One, no one outside the Devils could know that she was a vampire, or she would be disowned and killed. Two, she had to become a Penitent, and that would be her cover. Three, she could not feed on any Gildan citizen.

Akiza was not opposed to traveling outside the bounds of Gildan territory to feed. That part was trivial, and it required not a whit of magic to do surreptitiously. She needed to feed. Soon. Yet she felt this reluctance. Ever since accepting the deal, she had felt said reluctance, and she had yet to feed.

And, tacitly, she knew why.

So now came the late afternoon of the day, the sun firmly on its downward arc toward the west. She waited in the shade of a tree in the courtyard of the Temple of the Everburning Flame.

She waited for the chance to spot Boesarius Terral himself.
 
A pity. Boesarius had no new hunts. His last had been a werewolf stalking the foothills of the Spine across Campania. It benefited not Gild alone for the beast to be slain, and Boesarius needed no gratitude from the other peoples of Campania nor, truthfully, from anyone who walked upon Arethil. To plunge Gildan silver into the wretched heart of the jin was all the reward he would ever want. Yet as always the conclusion of the hunt was bittersweet.

But the next hunt would come. It always did.

Presently, Boesarius was returning to the Temple, and further on to the Sanctum, walking with two fellow Regulators from a late lunch. The greensward in the Temple's courtyard was plentiful, and a few trees neatly arranged dotted the whole. It was not uncommon to see Gildans taking shade under them.

Yet Boesarius's eye caught sight of someone whom he was displeased to see.

"Go on to the Sanctum," he said to his Regulator comrades. "I will come shortly."

They each nodded in agreement and went on, and Boesarius departed from the paved pathway and onto the green and approached the tree under which Akiza stood. She had been eyeing him even before he had spotted her. She wanted something.

He stood before her in the shade, dark eyes only just visible under the brim of his hat as he looked down upon her.

"Speak."
 
The prestigious Regulator certainly had a way with words, didn't he. Most times Akiza would appreciate the brevity. But, despite her delicate position and given to her sardonic nature as she was, she decided that two could play that game.

"I'm thirsty."

And she just looked at him. Expectantly. It was on some level amusing, yes, if not entirely in her best interest to act as such with Boesarius.
 
Boesarius reacted not with unbridled anger nor force to Akiza's impertinence. He merely stretched out an arm and placed his palm against the tree by which they both stood, and now he had her enclosed on three sides. He loomed over her, greater than her in size and stature and station, and the shadow of him which fell upon her was terrible. The menace he posed to her life was absolute, and at any time, if he should so deem, he could take it.

She might be on Vaiz Onder Elissal's little team of devils, but she was nothing to him. Nothing more than a jin. If one that he had on a leash.

"I could relieve you of that shyness. And all things."

He leaned his face a bit closer to hers. The brim of his hat rose high over her head now.

"Come to it," he said, bidding her to state plainly her intentions.
 
Akiza could at times be given to willful provocation, but ever did she know when it was best to stop. And this was one such time. The deal she had made with Nemeska and Boesarius granted her a reprieve from death, and only so much room to be a playful nuisance.

And she did, indeed, have a genuine concern to come to.

"Can you come with me? So that you can see? I want to earn your trust."

Akiza had the infinite capacity to complain, facetiously or not, about rules, but nevertheless she could follow them, especially if doing so was necessary for her survival. Plainly put, she wanted Boesarius to see that, whether he thought her a "jin" or—perhaps—something a bit more than merely that.
 
"I can settle for being tolerated."

Maybe tolerated would be a more palatable word than trust for him. In fairness to the Regulator, Akiza wouldn't trust herself, if she were, say, presented with a person whose character was identical to her own. Sometimes you had to do some unlovely things to get by. Such was life. Or unlife.

"And you could even point me at some people you don't particularly like."
 
Boesarius with his free hand now languidly brought it up, the deliberate slowness of the motion suggestive that he knew he had all the time and power in the world to act as he pleased here. His hand came to wrap itself around Akiza's neck, yet he applied no pressure. He didn't need to. Almost was it a kind of gentle touch, for all the strength he put into it.

He did not care if any wandering eyes might see them in the shade of that courtyard tree.

"Do you like it?" he said. "The chain around your neck?"
 
"Better a chain around my neck," she said, "than a stone marking my grave."

Survive.

Ever her mantra. And vampirism came with its own perks. She should have been dead a long time ago, and now, at least, she need not worry of the mortality of age. And here with Gild, and more specifically with Regulator Boesarius, she need only play the game well—as she had in other places.

Pay no attention to the misfortunes which ousted her from said places. She still survived, hadn't she?
 
Boesarius smiled. What an obedient jin. There was something that tickled his fancy about that—a certain novelty to it.

He let slide his hand from her neck, stood back from the tree, and said, "Stay here."

He turned to walk away, but before parting added this:

"We'll find you some kujars to slake that abhorrent thirst. And you'll enjoy it more than you usually do. I know you will."

Then Boesarius stepped from the greenery and back onto the courtyard paths and headed toward the Regulators' Sanctum.
 
So Akiza waited in the shade of that one particular tree in the grand courtyard of the Temple. Boesarius was gone long enough for her mind to wander, and said wandering started with a regard for her simple clothes. She did miss the finery of her more bygone days. She did. But, naturally, it was easier to hide in the various cities of Arethil by being forgettable. As forgettable as she could be, anyway, but for her damnable eyes—more than once had they been the scent by which her pursuers found her, more than fine clothes had ever been, it ought to be mentioned.

But here in Gild she had taken a risk, and, beyond all reckoning, it had paid off. So far as she appeased Regulator Boesarius, and that mysterious Nemeska woman who was his—superior? associate? she didn't quite know—then she could hide in perhaps the one place of all Arethil no one would ever think to look for her.

Like her other hiding places, however, that meant adopting a new life. Living a falsehood and making it a truth. Not to gloat, but Akiza would say she was quite good at it by now—even if pretense could be tiring. Yet there was something to this whole "Devil" charade, pitched so well by Boesarius and Nemeska in that lovely dungeon. Now, despite the circumstances of her accepting, Akiza found her fondness growing of the idea of being some sort of innocent Penitent by day and a terror by night. Once it began in its true fullness, perhaps her stay in Gild need not be so dreary after all.

Presently, though, came Boesarius, returning at last.
 
"Follow me," he said, walking past Akiza without stopping. Dutifully, the good little jin, she fell in the line behind him.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"To Vestia." And he slid a glance suggestive of encouraged malice toward her. "I detest the Vestians. And you will too, once you come to know them."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

They continued along the path of the Temple's grand courtyard, passing by a couple of Priests and fellow Gildans going the opposite way. Akiza wisely kept quiet until they were out of intelligible earshot.

"What makes the Vestians so special? They can't be worse than the Obanese."

This actually made Boesarius stop. Rarely did he ever laugh, and perhaps this innocence from Akiza might have prompted such from him if the day were different. Still, her comment amused him enough for him to bare teeth in a grin.

"I will enlighten you. And when I have, you will beg me for swiftness in this venture of ours."
 
Entirely by accident did Akiza mention the Obanese. Of course her brief stay in Oban had been unpleasant, and it served as something of a marker by which to judge other places. But she didn't know that the comparison between Oban and Vestia would be so apropos.

As they left behind the courtyard of the Temple of the Everburning Flame and made their way in the direction of the Eastern Gate, Boesarius took the time to explain some of the history of Vestia and its...customs. They practiced slavery (even if they didn't call it that), but only on their women, keeping mothers and daughters and wives and sisters all as property for the associated men in their lives. The whole idea shocked Akiza, even more so than it might otherwise, what for the customs of her own motherland. Add onto that some bloody politics and the occasional child sacrifice, and the Vestians, to Akiza, hardly seemed qualified of the adjective "civilized" to describe...however it was they truly got along in the world. Utter barbarians.

"You weren't kidding."

"I never do."

Akiza continued, "I think I've found my new favorite hunting ground." She wasn't afraid to say such a thing aloud as they walked and passed by some others on the street. Such a statement could have plenty of meanings, especially being in the presence of the Regulator.

"Kill as many as you like. You have my permission."

"Oh. Your permission. It just wouldn't have felt as good without it."

Boesarius, undaunted, elaborated, "Death is the rightful reward for many men. There are those who preach leniency, tolerance, and mercy for such men guilty of grievous crimes against the spirit. Naive fools. Leniency only brings you in league with the wicked. Mercy to the guilty is cruelty to the innocent. It cannot be abided. And so even you, Akiza, have your part to play, and can fashion some good out of your..." he eyed her up and down, "...predicament."

"No. Stop. You might get a girl all riled up," Akiza said, her delivery deadpan and playful. Hell, she hardly needed the encouragement.
 
They continued through the streets with the Eastern Gate as their object. And they passed by the branching lane which ran north and to the Templar Barracks, the Barracks itself available to be seen in fleeting glimpses beyond the homes of the Insan near it. Presently they passed by a stable on their left on the main thoroughfare.

"We will be going on foot," said Boesarius. "And we will go off of the road once we draw close to Vestia."

"Aw. I was looking forward to riding behind you. Holding onto your waist. Snuggling you," Akiza said, again with her flippant humor.

"You would never ride behind me."

"Oh. Then you could have your arms around me. What a joy."

"Jest all you like. It won't make a difference."

"I grow on people over time."

"Not all people," he said. They walked on, and Boesarius said now, "Do you have everything you need?" He himself had a travel pack, stocked with supplies, onto which his crossbow was attached. Though Akiza, he reckoned, likely did not need anything of the sort.

"Only something to," she groaned theatrically, "take this weight off of my ankle."

Yes. She would want access to her magic, wouldn't she? But it was no matter. And against the Vestians, this was the purpose of the Vaiz Onder's Devils, wasn't it? "I have your key," he said.

"Then that will do." She rolled her shoulders and, on a whim, started to muse aloud, "Maybe I ought to wear a mask. For the fun of it. Let some stories run wild in Vestia. I still have one. A sentimental trinket from Valenntenia. It's a good one. And it wasn't cheap. I—"

Boesarius stopped. And Akiza, puzzled, stopped alongside him.
 
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