Chapters 17-18

Three massive impacts resounded throughout the hall before an enormous crash shook the entire estate down to its foundations. Panting, a harried looking man in servants livery burst into the dining room, moving at a full-on sprint.

“Lord Darius! Intruders! They’re in the entryway, they-!”

Unfortunately, the man never managed to get any further before he was cut off by those aforementioned intruders. Marching forward in organized step, the soldiers who bullied their way into the dining hall were decked out in the crisp uniforms of the city guard militia—more commonly referred to as the vain lord’s coterie.

With a casual kind of cruelty, the poor servant was thrown aside—his body made to tumble helplessly across the uneven floorboards. A sick feeling of dread began to well up in Jun’s chest then. A feeling which only compounded with the entrance of the vain lord himself. As if they’d practiced it, the ranks of militia parted smoothly before their lord, from which he emerged confidently, almost triumphantly, a condescending smirk playing at the corners of his lips. And in the city lords wake came two individuals. The first Jun didn’t recognize. The second he knew all too well. Ever so slowly, Jun crept backward, trying his best to blend in with the murmuring crowd.

Your mind reading technique, whatever it’s called. You’re absolutely sure it only extends to me? If you’ve been underselling your abilities, I promise I won’t be angry if you come clean right now.

“I- like I said, it’s not really a technique, per say. And yes, I’m fairly certain it doesn’t work that way. How could it, after all? And why would it, for that matter?”

Jun grimaced in self-reproach.

No. No that’s alright, I believe you. If you say it can’t be done, it can’t be done. My apologies for questioning you like that, it’s just… it’s just that we might be in a good deal of trouble here very soon, and a special heads up would’ve been lovely.

“Trouble?! What kind of trouble?! Jun?! Again, with the not knowing things…!”

Doesn’t matter. Just stay close. No matter what happens, I need you to stay close, and stay hidden. Alright?

“But-!”

Promise me.

“I… I… okay, I promise.”

The first of the newcomers was a bespectacled, balding man who clearly did not want to be there. Sweating profusely, despite the mild weather, he was short in stature and round about the middle. Hunched over with eyes downcast, he appeared utterly miserable and otherwise resigned. In his arms he cradled a large, official looking tome as if it were a newborn child. It was one that Jun recognized, though not nearly as well as he did their other surprise visitor.

He was a man of average height and unassuming features. Looked to be in his mid-twenties with black hair and hard eyes. He sported long, faded scars across his brow and cheek—likely earned during early childhood if their pinkish color was anything to go by. His name was Marrik and he was one of the first Jun had ever employed. And, as far as he knew, still employed to this day. Payed far more than he was likely worth, due in large part to the sensitive things he was privy to. He was one of a select few Jun had personally contracted all those years ago. This had been way back when the fur trade was still in its infancy. Before Jun had gotten into the rather convenient habit of always wearing a mask.

 Coming to a halt at the head of his small army the city lord scanned the clumped-up family gathering as if looking for something. Something…? Or someone. Then, with a tsk of annoyance the man gave up on his search. Jun relaxed slightly.

“Well? Is he here or not?” he directed this question at Marrik.

The young man, for his part, barely needed a cursory glance before he spotted Jun. He can’t possibly be about to…! He’s under a system enforced contract!

But, contract or no, when Marrik’s cold, flinty gaze met his, the young man unhesitatingly gestured in his direction.

Upon the breaking of a system enforced oath, no tribulation lightning struck him down, nor did he up and keel over on the spot. Which had to make you wonder, if one was free to break it whenever they pleased, what the hells was the thing even good for in the first place?! The small hint gave the city lord all that he’d needed, and it was only a few seconds more before the two of them, at last, locked eyes. The toothy grin he gave Jun wouldn’t have been out of place on a demon. It was then that Lord Darius stepped forward, clearly irate. It was a testament to how panicked Jun had become, that a surge of relief welled up at the sight of the man’s intervention.

“Finneas! What in the name of-! What in the world is the meaning of this?!”

”Oh, calm yourself Darius. This has nothing to do with you.”

Darius stepped closer until the two were inches apart. With a pointed finger he emphasized his words with a forceful jab into the city lord’s chest.

“You break down my doors, storm into my residence, and then have the gaul to tell me to be calm?!” The patriarch was practically screaming at this point; the rafters veritably shook with the force of his fury.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve so rudely interrupted? An esteemed envoy conveying word from none other than our main branch cousins. And at the behest of her grace, the Lady Duchess Cecilia, no less! Finneas, I don’t care how many friends you have in the capital, an insult of this magnitude does not go away merely because you wish it!”

The city lord visibly blanched at this tirade. It, and all its many implications. He actually looked ill. He flicked his eyes from the irate man in front of him to the out of place noble in their midst. The city lord audibly gulped. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. The confident look of only moments before now gone, to be replaced with one of pure terror. In that moment, Jun dared to hope.

“There is really no need for all that, Darius. You must believe me when I say that I had nothing but the best of intentions-“

“Oh? Must I?!”

If he’d thought the city lord’s face couldn’t get any paler, he would have been sorely mistaken. He almost wanted to cheer.

“Of course! You are free to do and believe what you will. Of course! A-and I humbly apologize for the… uhh, for the unfortunate timing, “ he flicked another glance at the envoy. “But, there is a very valid reason for me to call on you so… abruptly.”

The branch lord opened his mouth once more to speak, but was cut off, much to his growing irritation.

“And! I’m sure that once my business has been resolved, certain… recompenses, let’s say, can be arranged. It’s really the least I can do after my, ahem, less than stellar showing of decorum.”

At the mention of possible reimbursement, Jun knew that the man was lost to him. He could already see all the fight going out of Darius, to be replaced by greed and anticipation. And any hope he’d harbored of a simple and clean resolution instantly died.

“Well,” Darius said, in a decidedly subdued tone. “Get on with it then. I’ll decide afterwards what precisely all this fuss was worth.”

The city lord winced at the branch lord’s tone. Nevertheless, a bit of his previous vigor returned to his cheeks. Again, he smirked in Jun’s direction. Others were beginning to notice where his attention was primarily focused, and looks of confusion were shared throughout the dining hall. What could the city lord possibly want with the talentless son? Jun, for his part, kept his eyes locked straight ahead, ignoring the many stares and open questions being exchanged. He thought he knew where this was going. He just didn’t know what precisely to do about it.

“Digbi, if you will,” said the city lord.

The small man was shoved forward by one of the militia members, causing him to nearly trip on his own feet. When he’d at last regained his balance enough to stand, raised his head, and was subsequently met by dozens of curious stares, he immediately shrank back into himself—as if to hide from all the unwanted attention. He opened his tome quickly, as if salvation could be found within its leather-bound pages. Taking a deep breath, he began to read in a practiced cadence. And with his quiet words, came the will of the system.

“On behalf of the system and its immutable laws, this humble servant hereby finds Junwei Beckonfrost guilty on three counts—of underaged child labor, fraudulent business practices, and the impersonation of a frontier lord. The convicted is to be arrested, effective immediately, and thereby placed into the custody of the resident city lord until further notice.

“Any heretofore illegal claim upon any and all business ventures, stocks, and general holdings are to be transferred into the ownership of said city lord, in perpetuity, until and or if the true owner of said properties has sued for an appeal. Should the true owner of the confiscated holdings be in attendance, I would ask that they speak now, lest the judgement be ruled uncontested.”

You could’ve heard a pen drop in the silence that followed. Every eye in the room was fixedly trained on Jun, whereas he couldn’t, in turn, drag his gaze away from the blinking red notifications that’d eclipsed his field of view.

**WARNING**

Due to the advent of a system enforced civil decree, your holdings have been seized.

**WARNING**

Due to the advent of a system enforced civil decree, your investments have been seized.

**WARNING**

Due to the advent of a system enforced civil decree, your business shares have been seized.

Do you wish to appeal this ruling?

YES/NO

ERROR

Because you have yet to reach your cultures majority year, in accordance with the laws of your registered province, you are unable to appeal this decision.

Your holdings have been seized.

Your investments have been seized.

Your business shares have been seized.

What was…? Inexplicably, his heart began to hammer, and his body…? His body felt strangely numb. He couldn’t feel his face. Was that normal? What was happening? Then the room began to spin. Now that couldn’t be normal. His tongue tasted of sand, and of bile, and of lemons. His eyes stung. You can’t just…! Without warning it was as if his legs had turned to jelly. If it weren’t for a pair of steady arms already there to catch him, he likely would’ve fallen straight onto his face. Leaning into his mother’s embrace, he turned from the blinking screen to find that her lips were moving.

Strange…? Was she saying something? Because no matter how much he tried, he just couldn’t seem to hear her. Or anything else for that matter. Not over all that incessant ringing. It was so loud in his ears he could barely think. The jarring vibrations of heavy footsteps jolted up through his knees. Was he kneeling? Since when had that happened? Grabbed roughly about the arms, he was hoisted bodily to his feet. Large hands. Men’s hands. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his mother try to stop them, only to be casually batted aside, as if she weighed nothing at all. It was enough to bring him half out of his dazed stupor.

“You don’t touch her!” his voice came out hoarse and small.

All he received were mean chuckles in response, and the tightening of their grip. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw lord Damien come to his mother’s aid—helping her to rise and acting as support. She must’ve injured herself in the fall, he thought. And then an all-consuming rage swallowed him whole, and his mind went utterly blank.

 ————————————————————

Not particularly proud of what he did or said next, he was nevertheless so out of it, in his impotent pain and rage, that it was only after the fact that he managed to piece back together the following series of events.

In his periphery he saw his mother grasp the sleeve of Damien’s robes. She looked to be speaking with him intently, almost angrily, which should’ve come as a surprise. It was one of the very few times he’d ever seen her so openly agitated in public, after all, and it had to have been the most extreme case by far. It looked as if she expected the envoy to do something. The young lord, clearly intimidated, glanced briefly in Jun’s direction, only to turn back to his mother with a defeated look on his face.

He shook his head sadly after which his mother's features went eerily still, relaxing back into that stoic mask she normally showed the world. The very look that told him she was absolutely fuming. The last thing he saw, before he was dragged kicking and screaming from the hall, was his mother's retreating figure as she swished her way towards the servant’s entrance, clear purpose evident in her long-legged stride.

It was only then that Jun’s struggles abruptly ceased. Because all of the sudden, a pertinent question came to the fore of his mind. What was the one thing he’d so carelessly overlooked in the midst of his self-absorbed temper tantrum? The debt collector's you idiot.

In an instant the red haze that’d consumed his thoughts cleared, and he found that he could once more think rationally again. Fat lot of good that did him now. His family was in danger. This was about so much more than his personal losses. His family was in danger! And she had no idea. Without his businesses, without his holdings, without practically anything but the clothes on his back, there was no way he was going to be able to scrounge up the money in time.

And that was if they gave him the two-week extension he’d asked for, which they were by no means obligated to do. Not to mention, even if they’d planned to, what would they do when word of his arrest spread? News of a young noble being arrested on the trumped-up charges he was accused of would not go unnoticed. And when the city lord waltzed in, the majority shareholder of all of his projects, it wouldn’t be hard to put two and two together. He needed to warn her, at least. She needed to know. Before he could even structure his thoughts on how he might accomplish this, however, a snide voice broke through his concentration.

“Gag him.”

A bundle of filthy cloth was shoved into his mouth and secured behind his head with a length of twine. He struggled—trying to force words through the gag—but to no avail. At the sight of his futile resistance, the satisfaction on the city lords face only grew.

“Quite the little show you put on in there,” he said as they walked. “You know, when I pictured you brought low before me, I hadn’t been so unimaginative as to think you’d actually kneel! Or turn as feral as a cornered beast, for that matter. It seems as though, regardless of how low my opinion of you had been, I’d somehow still overestimated you.”

He chuckled to himself.

“Truly, regardless of what miraculous happenstance you managed to luck your way into, you were never really anything more than a child, were you? In hindsight, I honestly can’t understand why I had been so wary of you to begin with. I should have just taken what was rightfully mine and been done with it. Would have saved me an awful lot of planning, that’s for sure. Isn’t that right boy?”

He directed this last question at Marrik. The young man nodded. He had still yet to meet Jun’s gaze.

“You know, you really should have managed your people better. Did you really believe that, just because you made sure to pamper them, they were yours? Little upstart that you are, I’m surprised to find you ignorant of something so simple. Bribery only works so long as it's you with all the coin. Paying someone off only gives them greater incentive to betray you to the first person offering more. Blackmail or kill them I say. Mercy is a fool's currency. Always has been. Oh! And speaking of which…”

Marrik snapped his head around sharply, stark terror plain in his expression.

“Wait! But you said-!“

The knife that sunk its way to the hilt in his jugular, also had the effect of shutting him up for the very last time.

“Yes, yes. I say a lot of things. But, you see, only rarely are any of those things actually true. Is it really my fault you chose to believe them? You two! Toss the body in the woods. Give the woodland creatures a feast.”

Two of the guard saluted, before carrying the body off in the direction of the tree line—his feet still kicking and a sickening gurgling sound emerging from his mouth.

Jun mumbled through his gag.

“Hmm? What’s that?” The city lord looked down on him. “Oh right. Mathew, ungag the child. Watch your fingers, though, he might bite,” a few of the soldiers chuckled as the gag was torn from his mouth.

“A message…”

“A what?”

“Please, I need to send a message. To my mother. I can pay you. Two million spirit coins for a message, a sentence, or even just a few words. Please…?”

The city lord's expression froze for an instant, before he broke out into joyous peals of laughter. His outburst was followed by a ripple of cruel snickers from all around.

“Bring a message to his mother, he says!” the city lord exclaimed, barely able to catch his breath.

“For two million, I’ll tell her whatever the kid wants,” proclaimed one of the guards. “You want it in writing? Or, ooh, I could give you a triple pinky promise! Sound like a deal? Money up front though, aye kid? How about it?”

As the laughter redoubled, a bulky guard spoke up next.

“Heh, you see the legs on that one? Got a message for her right here, if you get me,” he tugged suggestively at his crotch. The soldiers guffawed, with the city lord’s reedy tones the loudest among them.

Jun felt nauseous. He hadn’t really expected it to work, but he’d had to try.

“Jun! I-! If you really wanted, I could-!”

No. Absolutely not. Ivory? These men? They’re bad men. Very bad. If you go out there, you’ll be killed. Doesn’t matter how fast you are. You won’t be safe if they see you.

“But Jun, your mother…!”

I know.

And he did know. Suddenly all the precautions he’d failed to consider, the many sensible measures he hadn’t taken—in his complacency, in his stupidity—sped to the fore. All of them eagerly clamoring for his attention. He’d thought he’d had more time. By all rights he should’ve had more time. And now…?

The city lord collected himself—dabbing a tear from the corner of his eye. when he turned to face Jun, however, all mirth had been drained from his face. To be replaced by a sneering mask of pure and utter disdain.

“The thing you can’t seem to wrap your silly little head around, boy, is that I do not owe you A GODS DAMNED THING! Nor do I need your coin for that matter. Well, no more than I already have, that is.”

He clutched Jun by the face with hands like a vice and yanked his head up sharply, until their noses were almost touching. His pungent breath wafted from mere inches away, so ripe it made his eyes water.

“It seems as though you’re operating under some sort of false assumption here. Perhaps you’re thinking that things will turn out well ‘so long as you hold out hope.’ Please, allow me to enlighten you on how things are actually going to proceed—to alleviate any lingering optimism you may be harboring.”

The man cleared his throat, as if preparing for a performance.

“A little ways beneath my royally appointed residence, there lies a prison. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. It’s where we keep all the bad people. The miscreants, and the thieves, and the chronically perverse. Where we let them stew. See the error of their ways and reap the consequences of their own actions. We lock them up tight. Then, after what only ever amounts to a few months at most, their time is officially considered served. And, just like that, they’re allowed straight back out into society. Free men—exonerated and with a brand-new lease on life. All in all, not too bad, as far as imprisonment goes. Enviable even.”

The city lord paused before continuing.

“Because beneath that little life of luxury, there is a dungeon. Fewer people know about this place, we use it so rarely. It’s where we send the really bad people. Your typical rapists and your two-bit murderers. The ones stupid enough to get caught, anyway. Them? Oh, they don’t get to leave. For them, we slam the door and throw away the key. Although! It’s not as if it’s all bad. They still receive two entire meals a day, and all the water they can drink. And while it’s not often the best fare, there’s always a surplus of idiots in this world, so at the very least they’ll have company while they choke down the rotting swill. It’s not great, admittedly, but it is livable.

“Below that, however. Far, far, below. Where there’s no company to be found, nor curated meals, or even light to see by, there is another place. An awful place. Tell me? Would you like to know what that place is?”

The city lord looked deeply into Jun’s eyes with a face enraptured by the prolonged mental torment. When Jun didn’t respond, the city lord dug his nails in harder and shook him violently.

“ANSWER ME!”

“…w-what?”

He tried to sound defiant, but it was impossible with the man’s hand gripping his jaw—nails digging into flesh to the point of drawing blood. The city lord smiled victoriously.

“Far, far beneath your feet, in the depths beyond even the deepest, darkest recesses—many kilometers below the domain of man—so far that even some of the gods fear to tread, there is a pit.”

 ***

“Don’t know about spring, but hope you have a nice fall!”

And, with a merry heave ho, the two junior guardsmen dumped his sorely abused body into the unsuspecting hole—the stomach flipping sensation of free fall terrifying, though brief.

There was an audible smack as his tender ribs met hard stone, and it was all that he could do to protect the tight bundle pressed up against his chest. Within seconds the echoes of raucous laughter and backslapping receded—their slightly tipsy steps taking with them the only light source he’d known for many hours now. He supposed it wasn’t the worst line they could have ended things on. It’d taken them the whole trip and four flasks of liquor to formulate. And that kind of dedication, apparently, payed dividends. It was definitely better than, “see you never dickhead!” which had been a very close second.

While the long trek through and endless series of cramped tunnels had been torture on his broken body, it had helped to keep his mind somewhat occupied. The city lord, of course, hadn’t forgone the opportunity to get a few last kicks in before Jun’s inevitable banishment to the depths. In all honesty, he wouldn’t have trusted anything less. No one could say the man wasn’t consistent.

Jun rolled over with a groan, wincing at the shifting of ribs he now suspected to be cracked, if not outright broken. Head pounding and thoughts elusive, he nevertheless tried his best to assess his situation.

First things first, his body. It hurt. Check. Next came his surroundings. Well, for one thing, he couldn’t really see, which instantly made this next step a great deal more difficult.

Without light, or the want to move, there wasn’t much he could do to scout his surroundings. He could only realistically make his best guesses and hope for the best. So, what did he know? It was a hole. Lovely. Just as advertised. Not overly large, as far as he could tell, though thankfully, not overly small either. The way the city lord had explained it, he’d been picturing a hole so narrow that his shoulders touched the sides while standing. Jun shuddered. Praise be to small miracles, he supposed. Now, if only he could see. If he could see then he could…w-well, he wasn’t sure what he could do exactly, but it had to be better than doing nothing. It was a goal at least and right now he was desperately in need of those.