Chapter 23- Dumas Erequix

Chapter 23- Dumas Erequix

A Chapter by Cynical_Art

Chapter 23

 

Dumas Erequix

 

           

            Dumas dipped his brush into the dark brown ink. Stroke after stroke he laid out each lock of hair, above her eyes, beside her cheeks, around her slender neck, unto where it split at her smooth round shoulders. He washed his brush in the water and then dipped it inside the blue ink and blended it with the white ink. In circular strokes he began to give life to her crystal eyes. Next was her angelic smile. Innocent, untouched, divine. With extra care he carefully captured its essence.

            Six hours after he initially started painting the angelic image, he finally leaned back to look at his latest masterpiece. I’ve really outdone myself this time. It was truly an image worthy for God’s eyes. He turned the easel so Ismailia Loucelles could see her beauty, hardly able to contain his own excitement.

            “I look fat,” she complained.

            “I assure you,” said Dumas. “That is only your stress from sitting there so long, speaking. This is a masterpiece worthy of your beauty. Enough to make even God gaze upon it for the entirety of a day.”

            “You flatter yourself, Dumas. God is above such measly art.”

            Dumas did all he could to restrain his frustration. “I misspoke. I only meant to emphasize the immensity of your beauty. The painting is only as beautiful as the image it replicates.”

            She stood up from her chair in her scarlet dress. “You torture me with your flattery. In fact, you torture me whenever you speak. Perhaps next time it would be better if you just painted yourself. We have plenty of mirrors.”

            Dumas moved the easel near the window so the painting could dry, ignoring her insults. “I’ll have it delivered to your father as soon as it dries…” he said, glumly.

            “Do that. I think I’ll be heading to my room for a bath. All this sitting has made me sweat twice my weight off.”

            Ismailia left the room like she’d been being held in a prison. Ungrateful b***h. She has no eyes for art. Dumas gathered his things and placed them in a closet. He removed the curtain from behind the chair where Ismailia was sitting, folded it, and placed it on the side. He then walked back to the painting to gaze upon its beauty once more. Remove the witch from the angel and all that remains is heavenly perfection.

            The Azure Palace had been home to Dumas from the moment Alistair first noticed his talents. The Azure Prince may not have had the talents of an artist but he definitely had an eye for it, and gave opportunity where he saw it. There, was a man with a true appreciation for art. Dumas owed his entire fame to the Prince. Before his work was hung upon every wall in every room of the Azure Palace, he was just another poor Illumian beggar praying for a better life. God answered his prayers though, and brought Alistair Loucelles into his life.

            Dumas decided he would roam the Azure Palace in favor of some more likable company. Ismailia had left a bitter taste in his mouth needing of some purifying. As he crossed by different people the taste soon left. They all greeted him politely, some complimenting his latest pieces, and he received their praise with wide smiles and flattery for their own egos. Lovable people. Appreciating people. Why can’t everyone be like this?

            The second floor where the liquor pub was located was Dumas’s favorite hangout spot. Ironic to his line of business, Dumas did not consume drugs. Having lived in the slums of Eden before, he knew the fate of those who fell victim to its seductive power. It was a horrifyingly still beauty, to become a crystal. A beautiful death, but not one I’m ready for.

            Dumas celebrated the completion of his latest piece amongst the intoxicated appreciating audience. Though they had not seen it yet, they knew it would be a marvel nonetheless, for Dumas never produced anything less. He was surprised to see even Gravure Ilianos amongst the crowd, but soon realized it was not for his praise. Gravure was a man of business who only made room in his busy schedule for things relating to business.

            Gravure was wearing a bright blue vest, black linen shirt underneath, and matching trousers. Age had dropped every hair on his head leaving only a decayed mustache and beard below. His cheekbones were high and sharp and his eyes hidden beneath a heavy brow.

            Dumas excused himself from his audience to greet Gravure. “What business does the Azure Prince’s right hand have with an artist?” Dumas asked with a smirk.

            Gravure smiled. “It’s not to praise your latest piece, I assure you.” Gravure pulled Dumas to the side where no one could hear. “The Prince needs you to examine something for him.”

            “Examine? What cryst do we have that he doesn’t already know inside and out?”

            Gravure reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a tiny bag with a vibrant white powder. “White magic.”

            Dumas grabbed the tiny bag and gazed at its mesmerizing glow. “This is real, isn’t it?”

            “It is. I’ve dealt white magic before and know its kind. This is without a doubt the very same brand the Mother of Cryst used to sell. Some low profile dealer named Simon Gladius claims to still have the means to produce the stuff. This here is one of his samples. I want you to examine it and see how old it is. If it’s recent then there might actually be some truth to this man’s story.”

            Dumas continued examine the tiny bag. “It’ll take days. First I have to get the right chemicals to make a deteriorating acid and let it sit there for a couple days. Then I’ll need some old white magic to compare it to this one, since I’ve never tested the age of white magic before.”

            “That won’t be a problem,” assured Gravure. “The Prince still keeps some old white magic bought directly from the Mother of Cryst. Even though it’ll cost us a potential high value sale, this takes priority.”

            “Well then, once I make the deteriorating acid I’ll just need to see which white magic takes longer to deteriorate. If this Simon’s last longer, it means he’s really been making his own.”

            Gravure chuckled proudly and patted Dumas on the back. “How’d you ever discover this s**t? If the Mother was still alive and knew we had someone who could track the age of cryst, she’d give half her fortune to have you on her side.”

            Dumas grinned with conceit. “It is but one of the many talents God gifted me with.”

            “Indeed it is. I don’t think you need me to tell you that no one can know of this.”

            “Unless the Prince himself commands it, my lips shall remain forever sealed on the subject. Now, allow me to resume my celebration.”

            As Dumas was turning to leave Gravure grabbed his arm. “Do try to remain coherent, you still have another job to do.”

            “Yes, yes. The girl. I remember. That coin is coming out of your pocket though.”

            “I’ll pay you double what she costs. Just get the job done.”

            Dumas rejoined the company of his loving audience. He spent the better of the night drinking and joking amongst them. Life here was bliss. It was as if there wasn’t even a war. A fact not easy to forget for any True Believer and one of the many reasons Dumas loved it here inside the Azure Palace. Here, it wasn’t the Fuhrer’s injustice that ruled. It made it easy to forget how truly hideous the world really was. And it was all thanks to the Azure Prince.

            The Azure Prince ruled with God’s conscience. He gave opportunity where none could be found. He took care of those he loved and helped them take care of the ones they loved. In his palace there was order with compassion. Protection without fear. And the only price for it all was doing what you loved. What more could Dumas ask for?

            After a couple drinks Dumas stood up and felt the room move and decided he should stop. Gravure was a kind and levelheaded man, but he wasn’t a patient man, and when business was delayed, he could turn into a bloodcurdling harsh man. Dumas had seen the outcomes of many unsatisfactory results in the azure throne room before. Those that couldn’t afford the price of kindness and opportunity were soon removed of it.

            On the third floor of the Azure Palace was the brothel. The most beautiful women from all the corners of the world could be found here, and Dumas had tasted and painted almost every single one. Around the end of every night he would always pass by this floor, search for the girl that fit his mood the most, and took her to his room. He had his favorites of course, but today was a special day. The woman he would have today would not be one of his own choice.

            Once on the floor, it was easy finding her. He knew her from the first time she started working in the Azure Palace a couple days back. Blonde curly hair. Green eyes. Pink lips. White teeth. Pale skin. Thin elegant eyebrows. Smooth round cheeks. Small neck. Tiny shoulders. Flat chest. Long legs.

            All the prostitutes were doing what would be expected of them. Clinging on to men, sitting on their laps, whispering promising words in their ears, doing what had to be done to pay for their happiness. Many flocked towards Dumas as he entered but he had to break their hearts in favor of the new girl. After kindly excusing himself he walked passed them towards his target, who was currently attempting to seduce a client.

            Dumas stepped behind her, without her noticing, placed his arm around her thin waist and excused himself to the client, “I apologize, but I have been waiting to have this doll in my arms all day. If you’re looking for a girl with a bit of experience I would recommend that one over there with the giant tits.”

            The client didn’t look at all too happy but knew better than to argue with Dumas Erequix over a w***e. “Your doll was the one who came to me anyways. Hope she’s worth your coin.”

            “As do I.” Dumas guided her towards the side and said, “Well, it seems I’ve spared you of a fat man for a far richer and more beautiful client.” He grinned proudly, the intoxication clear in his squinting eyes.

            She looked at him with caution in her big green eyes. “So it seems. Might I ask why? You’ve come here many times before and you’ve done little more than glance at me. I thought for sure you took no interest in me. The other girls speak highly of you, Dumas Erequix.”

            “So you’ve heard of me,” he said, even more proudly. “I’m ashamed I can’t say the same. I don’t even know your name.”

            “It’s Farah. Funny, you don’t know my name, you hardly look at me, and I’m suddenly first on your list tonight. I doubt it’s due to all the experience I have here, considering I’m new.”

            Dumas frowned, perplexed. “Most w****s are satisfied with just the fact a rich client wants them for the night. Better if they’re handsome. Why do you care why I’m suddenly interested in you? I’m interested, what else f*****g matters?”

            She broke eye contact nervously. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “It’s just…you’re the Dumas Erequix. All the girls say you have your favorites. For you to pick me, it’s an honor.”

            She stroked every bit of his drunk and sober ego. “It seems you’re not completely without sense. Let’s stop wasting time and head up stairs to my room. As appealing as the rooms down here are, I find mine more…erotic.”

            She blushed and showed her perfect white teeth. “Lead the way, Dumas Erequix.” Dumas Erequix. I love the way she says my name. I may need to start telling all the other prostitutes to do the same.

            He led her up to the fifth floor where all of the Azure Prince’s most trusted followers had a room. Upon entering his own, Dumas saw his shimmering reflection bounce from mirror to mirror. In front, left, right, and above his bed, were large mirrors gazing towards the bed.

            “That’s…a lot of mirrors,” said Farah, uncomfortably.

            “Beauty is meant to be seen,” explained Dumas.

            He stepped inside and stood in front of one of the mirrors as he undressed himself. He gazed into his turquoise eyes, short dark hair, scruffy beard, and carved creases of his muscular chest, abs, arms, and legs. Slowly he started to stroke himself into excitement. Has there ever been anything half so beautiful?

            He turned around to the undressed Farah on his bed, slender with smooth delicate skin. Her eyes shifted to his manhood. “Hard already? I haven’t even touched you.”

            “True beauty excites me.”

            She blushed. “Thank you.”

            “I wasn’t talking about you.”

            She turned red with embarrassment. Dumas didn’t bother to apologize or wait for a reply from her as he climbed on the bed, spread her legs, and entered the wetness between her thighs. Farah released a moan sounding half like pleasure and half like pain. He was pleasantly surprised to find it unbelievably tight inside. How very unlike most w****s.

            Dumas thrust in and out of her softly, adjusting to her tightness as she adjusted to his size. “So where are you from?”

            She moaned. “Isn’t it obvious?”

            He went deep and held it in there. “It’s obvious you’re a Judician. But where do you come from? How did you end up here in the Azure Palace?” He pulled back returning to his constant space.

            “I came from Lumina. Left after the whole issue with the Cruorians.” She wrapped her legs around Dumas’s back and starting pulling him in, quickening his pace. “I found my way here thinking it’d be the last place with trouble…aungh…harder.” Dumas picked up pace. “Never thought there’d be a quarantine a couple months later,” she continued. “Luckily, Amur Esquiar…aunnngh…found me in the brothel I was working at in the slums. Promised me better pay for my beauty in a better…aunngh…place.”

            “That man has quite the talent for finding talent in low places.” Dumas stood on his knees, grabbing her legs and taking full control, going much faster. “It was he who found me back when I had to steal a piece of bread to survive, as well. It appears we have similar fortune, you and I.”

            “So it seems.” She hooked one of her arms around his neck and raised herself to kiss him. She then threw her weight to flip him on his back so she had control on top, waving her hips forward and back. “Maybe one day I might even be more than just a w***e, as you became more than just a thief.”

            Her smile said she wanted things beyond her worth. “It’s no easy thing rising up in this world. It takes a special type of talent to be seen by those who have reached the heavens.”

            She tightened herself around him, causing him to release his first gasp of uncontrollable pleasure. “Talent like what?”

            “Talent like…mine.” Wait. When did she take over the conversation?

            “So if I become a painter, I can join the Azure Prince by his side? Or is the reason you stand by him so close because of your other talents?”

            Dumas flipped her over and turned her around so she was on all fours and both of them were looking at the mirror directly in front of them. “You know a lot for a w***e whose only been here a couple days.”

            Her moans became louder at his thrusts became more aggressive. “Aunngh! Like I said, the girls talk a lot about you.”

            This is my opportunity. “Did they mention anything about how I meet with Angels?”

            “Angels?” she said, shocked. “No. I haven’t heard anything of that nature. The only talk of angels I’ve heard…auuunngh! Were in the city. But these days there are miracles in every corner. You mean to tell me the Archangels are real?”

            For some reason her doubt angered him. His thrusts became brutally aggressive and he wrapped his hand around her slender neck and whispered in her ear, “I mean to tell you I’ve met them. In fact, I’m meeting one soon. Two days from now, in the abandoned manor by Mary’s Fountain.”

            Farah gasped for air as he released her neck. Then she smiled, looking at him through the mirror. “You truly are a man of high talents…to be meeting an Archangel.”

            With business done, Dumas decided to bring their time together to a quick end. He fucked her like a dog in heat the rest of the way and ejaculated on her back when he was done. He collapsed beside her on the comfort of his bed. “Did you expect any less from the great Dumas Erequix?”

            She smiled. “No. You do not disappoint. Not one bit.”



© 2013 Cynical_Art


Author's Note

Cynical_Art
What are your thoughts on the new major character entering the story?

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Well Dumas is a little full of himself, isn't he? XD But I'm starting to see everything relating together already, and I can't wait to see who the Archangels are. Like always, I loved it, and can't wait for more. :)

Posted 8 Years Ago


Dark Rider

8 Years Ago

XD It's fine. And I can't wait to see what has happened to Venir.
And talk about bad luck. Ho.. read more
Cynical_Art

8 Years Ago

Well Imma make chapter 25 into 24 and move it from there. Since I tell my story through perspective .. read more
Dark Rider

8 Years Ago

YAY!! I can't wait to see what happens! ^^

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Added on March 4, 2013
Last Updated on March 4, 2013
Tags: fantasy, Religion, science-fiction, family, death, betrayal, sex, war, conspiracies, characters, love, psychological, development, God, hierarchy, order, cynical, victorian

God's Requiem


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Cynical_Art
Cynical_Art

New York, NY



About
I am 21 years old, I got my Bachelors in Science Degree when I was 19. My career profession is computer animation (I am an Environment Modeler, for those that follow the profession) but I love to writ.. more..

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