Chapter 103: Deceived
A small figure fled without strength across the cold and cracked tiles. With the perspicacity and audacity of a thief, he used corners and small holes to mislead.
Behind him a shadow pursued him relentlessly. Tall and silent, ominous as death itself.
No kind of tricks served to deceive or lose him. Every second seemed to bring him closer by several meters, sealing his destiny in an inevitable conclusion.
It was the typical cat-and-mouse game. After beguiling him with grandiloquent words and an improvised speech, he had managed to slip from the hands of his fatal archenemy.
But his trail was extremely simple to follow for an agent of the darkness. Forcing him to think desperately of escape routes.
His behavior is falling into desperation, his body refuses to support the stress of his flight and his posture unravels little by little. When he falls, he will sing the secrets, he thought in silence. From the first instant it had been part of his plan.
Francis was the kind of individual who needed a beating before accepting reality. Rude, vulgar, and cowardly to a certain measure. He could not adhere to a therapeutic plan that did not add blows to the history.
Only when he understood that no exits existed and his existence was condemned, would he begin to speak freely until dictating a Shakespearean dialogue.
His prophecy soon fulfilled itself, when they turned a corner into a vacant lot. Damp and with the floor destroyed, crossed by wild grass.
Francis did not manage to balance his axis correctly upon stepping with the left foot and finally his ankle gave way, falling heavily to the ground while tumbling. His hair remained stained and soaked by the mud and the puddles of dirty water.
Vulgar curses shot out of his mouth, with his expression dominated by pain and his desperation.
"Please! Don’t do anything to me! I don’t even know who they are, I don’t even know why I’m running from you."
He approached slowly, extending light vibrations through the ground with his heavy boots, his mask covering his entire face. In his right hand his dagger began to dance with grace, with a silver shine.
"You are not ignorant and neither am I; I think I know why you flee from me," he said in a monotonous voice. In an abrupt movement, he drove the dagger centimeters from the thief’s right cheek.
"Men never manage to flee from the darkness, Francis. Why do you try to flee?"
With a strident scream, the skinny young man fainted for a few seconds. He had been dominated by fear to the point of having a nervous crisis.
At his side, Gabriel scratched his head uncomfortably. It was the first time he saw someone faint from a threat. And it was not even his main motive.
Will he wake up? I suppose so.
His expectations were fulfilled a dozen seconds later. With a brief lapse of confusion, the blond young man woke with confused eyes.
"Where is my mom...?" he murmured from the ground.
But to his bad fortune, he only found the devil in front of him. He remained squatting, with an unaltered expression, but in his eyes there existed disappointment.
"You don’t want mom to collect a cold corpse, right? To avoid it you will have to start talking." It was a crude threat that terrified Francis even more.
Despite the illogical points, it was enough to cloud the judgment of the thief. In his mind only the possibility of death existed, a slow death perpetrated by a cruel dagger.
"I don’t know what you want to hear, damn it! You’re crazy." Vociferated Francis, maintaining distance from the sharp dagger. "The ruins? What damned ruins?"
"I observed you from afar. Your frightened behavior always manages to stand out, thief. You must have a gift."
Feeling the cold of the damp and cracked tiles, he took a few seconds to process his words. His mind was incapable of processing certain words. Refusing to accept that his worst fears were being fulfilled.
"Do you mean... Those ruins?" he murmured with a broken voice.
With an insensitive expression, he spun his dagger over his left hand, in a dangerous jump and turn. Mordantly he said: "I am not a fool, Francis. Why are you so reluctant to accept it? What do you fear?"
The thief did not even raise his head. He remained with a dark expression, murmuring:
"We can only talk in a private place."
***
His condition was not frivolously ignored. Gabriel understood that when a matter had to be discussed under four hermetically closed walls, it was because the balconies listened.
They directed themselves in silence and in a pact of theatrical behavior to the center of Bérsaic. In an extravagant manner they temporarily rented a modest room in an inn.
On the way he had promised that he would give him a heavy incentive in gold coins. After hearing the proposal, the thief’s mood had been rekindled by lava that came directly from a volcano.
"Have you heard how a bunch of gold coins sound when they clash? I haven’t. I want to hear it today." Said Francis with an expressive imagination. "I’ll settle for twenty coins!"
"I’ve already told you it will be 2 coins," answered Gabriel.
"Seven!"
"Your head could cover the excess of the investment, maybe."
The possibility instantly soured Francis’s mood. Who accepted the original proposal with a chivalrous voice.
Under a shiny chandelier, he rested on the bed with linen cloth. Gabriel waited patiently from the wooden chair that the room included.
They had received strange looks upon paying for the room.
"I have granted you the privacy you sought and promised a generous payment. You can start talking."
"Make the payment first." Demanded Francis with a soft voice, fearing the repercussions.
He only received a glacial and chilling gaze, responding to his intentions. He retracted with evident fear, deciding to speak.
"I did not enter those ruins by my will. They communicated with me, a mission and a generous payment. Without thinking of the repercussions, I accepted blinded by my greed." Said Francis, choosing honesty in his words.
"Who?"
"Suspicious people. They never revealed their identities, with coats that clung to their figures. But all had an ugly smell, with that ring." He said pointing directly at Gabriel’s hand.
On his right hand the Jester’s ring shone weakly. A symbol he had obtained from the Order of the Black Raven. An organization practically extinct according to his knowledge.
"This ring? What were they like?"
"Black rings, with their own bestial forms or other figures. When I saw them for the first time I thought they were kidnappers or grave robbers. I needed to understand a little about them."
Gabriel moved restlessly on the chair. His finger constantly scraped the wood of the counter. The thief for the first time granted important information that could consolidate Edward’s ideas.
"What did they want?"
"A statue. They wanted me to steal it. They spoke about a ritual and an absurdly long speech." Murmured Francis, feeling chills upon remembering the vehemence of the group.
But his words had impacted Gabriel’s composure in a way he did not know.
The statue was the same objective of Charles. And now, apparently, also the objective of this strange organization.
Considering the fact that the statues could have a tenuous connection with the divinities of old, it only managed to deepen and confuse the event even more.
"A statue? Do you remember what kind of statue?"
"Give me my money! I fear I will keep talking like a dumb pig and you will end up decapitating me. I would also do it for 2 gold coins." He said suddenly, gathering a tenuous courage that still resided in his pride.
"Only when you finish will I do it." Answered Gabriel, still lost in his thoughts.
But his response found resistance, with a strangely resolved Francis.
"Do you really believe I don’t know that you will kill me? When you give me what you promised me, I will know that this is an authentic, just, and sacred deal."
Before the constant effusive words and resistance, Gabriel ended up yielding in a calculated movement. From its beginning to its end he had observed the changing behavior of the young man.
The five gold coins were transferred immediately in a rapid exchange. The gold came from the rewards he had obtained in the ruins.
With a soft hum that crossed the windows, slightly removing Francis’s clothes, he began to disappear. Small celestial light particles began to detach from his body.
His smile was contradictory. Expressing apologies and a light mockery that was impossible to hide. As if it were his very nature.
Gabriel walked slowly to Francis’s previous position. He observed how his figure finished disappearing, disconnecting.
In his mind he had already traced the small plan the thief had ideated. Beguile him with an incentive, attract him to a safe zone, and keep him distracted until disappearing with a disconnection.
It was the perfect plan. Or probably not.
He had understood perfectly his intentions and even so permitted them. He did not need to force him into a total surrender and his possible sacrifice.
Hope was necessary.
But to his surprise, he had obtained even more than he believed possible. The 2 gold coins had only been a small reward for his courage—which was practically nonexistent.
"Are the black rings becoming so repetitive?" He murmured to the air, with a thoughtful pose.
Definitely there existed a great conspiracy beneath those apparently uncoordinated efforts.