Chapter 27- Dumas Erequix

Chapter 27

 

Dumas Erequix

 

           

            Dumas scooped up another spoonful of food. Slowly and steadily he brought it towards her mouth. She resisted, like always, but with enough force he was able to force it down her throat, like always. As he was going for another spoonful she regurgitated everything she had eaten so far, all over him and the rest of the food.

            He stood up calmly. “Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up and get some more.”

            She glared at him, her lips bathed in vomit. “I don’t want your f*****g food! How many times do I have to tell you?”

            Dumas gazed sadly at her. “You have to eat, Saphira. If you don’t you’ll die.”

            “Who gives a f**k?!”

            “I do…” he said solemnly.

            He left to the kitchen and picked up a rag and bucket of water. He washed the floor and his sister’s lips, then left and returned with more food. The instant Saphira saw him with a new plate on his hand she started acting hysterical again, fighting against the ropes. Dumas placed the plate on the table beside her and hugged her to calm her down. “Easy, easy. No one is going to hurt you.”

            “Get off me! Get off me, I hate you!”

            His heart shriveled every time that word crossed her mouth. Dumas still remembered the days when he didn’t need to tie her down to a chair. The days when she still loved him. Love or hate him though, his feelings for her would always remain unchanged. She was family, and for that he would never allow her to die. “I know you don’t mean that,” he whispered, more to himself than to her. “Relax. Just relax.”

            It took a while to calm her, but she always stopped fighting eventually. Whenever she did she also stopped talking and had this dead look in her eyes. But at least she ate. After she finished her food, Dumas washed her face, combed her hair, and put makeup on her. Even if only for my eyes, you shall always remain beautiful.

            Saphira was everything but beautiful. Dumas knew that, but he wouldn’t let his sister know that. Saphira was half crystallized. Shards spread across her forehead, down the left side of her face, into her chin. Her left eye never moved, frozen in place, half covered in crystal. She also had an entirely still crystallized hand and smaller shards scattered across her body. Her hair had fallen out but for a couple locks of hair. Her body starved to the point her bones appeared to be masked only by skin. About the only beautiful thing remaining of his sister was her one good turquoise eye. Thank God he knew how to make even the most hideous atrocities in the world feel beautiful.

            Dumas brought his easel and painting materials. Stroke by stroke he began painting his older sister into something angelic. First he drew her to her likeness, as she once gazed upon her own reflection. He knew she would only be offended by such a natural image however, so he added a crystal shell around half her face and arm, only more graceful and divine. Dumas would not stop there. He would paint Saphira’s very soul in the image before he was done. Arching from her back, crystal feathers formed an angel wing, a heavenly light descending upon each shimmering shard. Now that is beauty.

            He turned the easel so she could see it. “You look divine,” he said.

            She turned her head to see it, emotionless. “You got my eyes wrong…only one is turquoise…”

            Dumas felt a strain in his throat. “You know…the Cruorian Queen only has one eye, and they say she’s as beautiful as they come.”

            “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

            “I only meant…” He found himself at a loss of words. “Don’t you at least like the painting?”

            She turned her head and rested it on her shoulder. “I don’t care. I’m still miserable and tied up to this chair like your prisoner.”

            Dumas stood up appalled that she would consider herself that. “You’re not a prisoner! You know that, Saphira…but you know what happens when I let you free. You run and look for drugs and get worse. I can’t let you do that. I can’t let you kill yourself.”

            She didn’t say a word. Dumas decided to let her be for now and left to hang up the painting in his room, next to the rest. Before heading back he took a seat on his bed and burst into tears in silence, like always. I promise to make you beautiful again…I promise.

            He wiped his eyes and washed his face. His reflection looked hideous. Where an angel should’ve been, all he saw was a devil. A devil who dealt the very evil he condemned. What other choice do I have? This is the path God gave me. And the only path that’ll answer our prayers.

            Dumas returned to his sister only to panic at the sight of white bubbles oozing out of her mouth. No! The withdrawal symptoms are kicking in again! He ran back to his room and opened a drawer. There was no more medication. His heart rate rose, and his panic became terror. He ran back to his sister and assured her, “I’ll be right back! I just need to stop by the Azure Palace!”

            Dumas forgot his hooded frock coat as he ran outside his home, wearing only a lavender vest, white shirt beneath, black trousers, and thigh high boots. He cursed himself for being so careless and forgetting to bring more of his cryst medication from the Azure Palace. The small doses of cryst were the only thing that tamed his sister’s withdrawal syndromes and maintained her sanity. It’s not my fault, he told himself. It’s because of all the work the Azure Prince has been giving me lately.

            That was no excuse, he knew, but it was the only solace he could find to not hate himself for ever putting his priorities in front of his sister. In these times, being an Angel of Caelum Infinitum required all of one’s time. Hunting for Shadows, laying traps, secretly spreading the word of God, working for the Archangel of Gluttony’s Kingdom. It was all taking its toll on the angelic Dumas Erequix. One man could only do so much.

            When he finally reached the Azure Palace, he was out of breath and received many curious glances. At the moment they were the least of his worries though. He ran upstairs all the way to his personal room and stacked up on medication placing them in a bag. Once he got them, he was out the door heading down stairs without second thoughts. Almost there Saphira. Hang on!

            Dumas blocked out the world as he traversed through the streets of Eden. People were mere objects in the environment as he glided passed them turning every corner he had to, with his one objective in mind. Suddenly, on one of his turns, he crashed into a person, dropping his bag, and landing on top of them.

            He opened his eyes in a hurry to gather his medication and continue on his way but froze at the sight that stood before him. Beneath him laid Farah as shocked as he was, her emerald eyes staring wide open. Only then did he realize he did not have his hood or anything to cover his face. I don’t have time for this!

            He got off her and grabbed his bag, collecting all the syringes and bags of cryst that fell out. Farah crouched next to him and tried to help. “Don’t touch that!” he warned. “It’s mine.”

            “I was only trying to help,” she explained.

            He continued picking up everything that fell out. Through the corners of his eyes he could see numerous eyes gazing upon the azure goldmine. “I don’t need your help. Just be on whatever way you were and forget you ever saw me.”

            “Very well. Be careful then. These aren’t safe parts for any one man to be carrying so much cryst.”

            Dumas finished putting everything he dropped inside the bag. “I’ll be fine.”

            He left her behind, caring little of the threat she posed and more concern towards his sister in need. Only a little further and you’ll be all better, Saphira. He heaved onward, his legs stinging with pain, his arms throbbing. As he drew closer he decided to take a shortcut down an alley he preferably only crossed during the daytime. He couldn’t risk another minute. Not while Saphira was suffering.

            Dumas felt his leg get caught with something and fell again. This time his grip on his bag was iron though so nothing fell out. He stood up without even bothering to see what caused the fall and attempted to continue through the dark alley but something hard and solid hit the back of his head and he fell again. He touched where he got hit and felt a moist texture. When he looked at his fingers there was blood on them.

            “What ya got in the bag, pretty boy?”

            Dumas turned to see the culprit. Three low town thugs stood before him. As he watched them another shadow loomed behind him blocking his designated path. Dumas stood up, leaving the bag on the floor. A couple of worthless lowlifes aren’t going to keep me from my helping my sister.

            He reached for the revolver he usually kept at his waist but never used, only to be disappointed by its absence. The one day he forgot it was the one day he needed it most. He decided to use the only weapon he had left instead. His fists.

            The first punch landed one of the thugs square on the jaw, dropping him, but the instant he landed it the other three were on him. One grabbed him by the back while the other two beat at him relentlessly. Dumas struggled but to little avail at the overwhelming force of the three thugs. They threw him to the floor and started kicking him, all four of them, and Dumas was forced to close his eyes and cover himself in shame in the fetus position, guarding his beautiful face.

            Suddenly he heard a scream followed by cursing and the kicking stopped. He opened his eyes and lying beside him was one of the thugs with his throat slit. When he looked up he saw Farah with a knife in her hand skillfully killing another one. Almost instantaneously she killed a third, sliding the knife into his eye. The last one panicked after that and tried to run but didn’t make it far, killed by an expertly launched knife to the back of his head. Dumas gazed at the scene dumbfounded.

            Farah walked over to him and gave him a hand. He took the help. “How did you find me?”

            “I followed you,” she said, bluntly. “You seemed in a careless rush and I was worried you’d run into people exactly like these. This is no place for a handsome rich man like yourself to be running around.”

            “You forget I was once poor.” He limped towards his bag. “Thank you for your help. You don’t need to follow me anymore.” He reached for his bag and felt an immense shock of pain run through his right elbow. “Aarrgh! Damn, they must’ve sprained my elbow.”

            Farah grabbed the bag. “This is heavier than it looks.”

            Dumas tried to take it from her with his good arm but she pulled back. “I don’t need your help anymore,” he reminded.

            “Even if you choose to carry it, I won’t stop following you until I know you’re safe. These guys are puppies compared to some of the dogs in these lower parts. So best start telling me where it is you want this delivered. You’ll get there faster with my help. But if you’re not in a rush…”

            Dumas decided it wasn’t worth arguing. “Whatever. I’ll lead the way.”

            It only took a couple minutes before they reached his small home, blending in with all the other poor houses in the neighborhood. Farah looked at it with curiosity. “This is where you’re delivering? Seems a rather…deprived residence for such a big order.”

            “It’s not an order,” he corrected. Dumas took the bag from her and opened the door. She tried to step in after him but he shut the door half way in her face. “You said you’d follow me until you knew I was safe. Well I’m safe.”

            “Are you going to leave a lady out here at this hour all by herself?”

            “Listen, I’m in a bit a rush. Besides, you seemed to be able to handle yourself well enough in the alley. ”

            She gave him a distraught look. “Only because I have to. I…I don’t have a home, you see.”

            He eyed her suspiciously. Any w***e in the Azure Palace should be able to afford a home. But she did save my life and arguably Saphira’s as well. “Come in, but don’t leave the living room.”

            She smiled with relief. “Thank you.”

            As soon as they entered he pointed her towards the couch. “Sit there until I return. If you go snooping around you’ll be spending the night in the streets.”

            She obeyed and he left her there. The first thing he did was run to Saphira’s room to see how she was doing. Her state had worsened, as he had feared. Her good eye had rolled to the back of her head and her body was twitching. White ooze still trailing down her mouth into her lap.

            Dumas opened the bag of medication and filled one of the syringes with cryst fluid. He injected a small dose into her veins and waited until she started slowly rehabilitating. First the twitching stopped, then the foaming, and then finally her eye returned to where she could see what was right in front of her again.

            He hugged her. “Thank God, you’re okay.”

            Saphira looked at him confused. “What…happened?”

            “You were having withdrawal symptoms again. I’m sorry I let it get that bad.” He started cleaning her up. “Do you need anything?”

            “You should’ve let me die,” she muttered.

            “What was that?” he asked.

            “You should’ve let me die!”

            He covered her mouth. “Don’t say that…don’t shout. Please. If anyone finds out you’re here, they’ll never leave us alone.”

            She shook her head in disbelief, tears running down her cheeks. “Why won’t you just end it, Dumas? If you love me, why won’t you just put me out of my misery…”

            “Don’t say that, Saphira…please don’t say that. You know I can’t do that.” He felt his own tears sliding down his cheeks.

            “How can you be so selfish…? How can you be so selfish?!”

            Dumas ran to his bag and pulled out another syringe. He injected her with it and within seconds she was asleep. He collapsed beside her in anguish, crying to his heart’s content. I’ll find a cure…I swear I’ll find a cure!

            Dumas remembered that Farah was still in his living room and decided he should tend to her before she grew any more suspicious than she probably already was. At this point he was certain he would need to tell her the truth in hopes of reaching her conscience. That way she could stay silent of everything she’d witness and heard today.

            When he returned she was still sitting in the couch where he’d left her. The look on her face confirmed his suspicions. He moved to sit beside her. “She’s my sister…back when we used to live in the streets, she turned to cryst for an escape like many whose life appeared to have no meaning. Like many, the drug took over her life. She always took whatever little money we made and spent it on cryst. Eventually she started reaching critical stage. Once crystal shards started appearing all over her body I knew she had to stop.

            “I had seen what happened to the people who fully became crystals. How they became frozen images. It was a horrifyingly beautiful thing, but not something I would ever wish upon my sister. I wanted to stop her before she reached that state, but I was powerless at the time. So instead, I decided I would cure her. So I made it my mission to find out everything about crystallite.

“I learned everything. How it grew, how it lived, how it could be manipulated and applied. I learned that all the answers in life were all around us. You just had to search for it. With some luck, I was able to grow my own plant. When it started to grow crystallite, I knew God existed, and that there was hope for me and my sister. I made my own brand and started selling it, eventually Amur Esquiar found me and I ended up at the Azure Palace. I still haven’t found the cure…but I know I’m getting closer to the answer.”

            He felt Farah’s hand grab his own. It was warm…and unexpectedly comforting. “I had no idea…none of the girls in the brothel told me.”

            “That’s because they don’t know,” informed Dumas. “No one in the Azure Palace knows except maybe the Prince and Gravure Ilianos. The only person I ever told about my sister was Amur Esquiar. He’s a businessman, so I don’t doubt that for the right price he’d share the information. But I can’t imagine anyone but the Prince being interested in my background before I was somebody. The only reason you know now is because I didn’t want you getting the wrong idea. I know you heard the screams. I couldn’t risk you telling anyone.”

            “I wouldn’t have…even if you didn’t ask me. It’s not my business to share. And I wouldn’t betray the kindness you’ve shown me today. But I’m glad you told me. This is a side I never thought to see from the great Dumas Erequix,” she said with a playful white smile.

            Even Dumas couldn’t help but smile. “I’m not as great as people think. What kind of man deals the very thing that is killing his sister.”

            “But you do it for her sake.”

            “And that justifies it? How many have my creations condemned to the same fate? Could I still ask God for forgiveness when so many have died at my hand for my own selfish cause?”

            Farah hesitated for a moment. “Often, blood is spilled in this world for the lives of the few or the many. There will always be those who will say it is unjust and hypocritical. But in the end we’re all the same. When the life of a stranger is placed against the life of a loved one, we always choose the one we love. All we can do is stay true to our choice and not let it undo us.”

            “Is that what you tell yourself whenever you kill people like those in the alley?”

            “Who would the world miss more, a couple of lowlifes or a man who meets with Archangels?”

            Dumas laughed. “You’re far too interesting to be just a mere w***e. But perhaps not the heretic I once suspected of you.”

            Farah laughed and pointed to herself perplexed. “You thought I was a heretic?”

            Dumas gazed at her eyes. “As all who enter the Azure Palace. The Fuhrer’s shadow is a vast ocean of darkness. But when I look into your eyes, I see neither the sun nor the moon. I see an angel.”

            She blushed and gazed back with a cunning smirk. “Does that mean you have found a special talent in me?

            “Not yet. But now you have my interest.”

            Farah leaned in on his face. “Is that so?” She kissed him in the lips softly, then again with more force. Seconds later she was mounted on him as they both stripped each other, their lips locked in a sloppy skirmish. She pushed him back on the couch and lowered herself between his legs. Dumas released a large gasp of pleasure as he felt his manhood enter the warm wetness of her mouth. Her aggression caught him entirely by surprise and he found himself grabbing her blonde curly hair to slow her down. Eventually he had to stop her in fear of climaxing before the main course. Feeling slightly ashamed he decided to return the favor, diving in between her legs. He raced his tongue all along the edges of her bottom lips, circling around her c**t numerous times, inserting his fingers in and out of her at the same time. This time it was her turn to push his head back, and he decided it was time to reenter her once more.

            For the first time in recent memory, he fucked gazing at someone other than himself. It was an odd feeling, but not a particularly bad one. They moved melodic with one each other’s body. Whether it was their chemistry or whether she was literally tighter this time around, he couldn’t decipher, but his c**k felt like it was being squeezed dry and he couldn’t ask for a better feeling. Relishing in her body he lost track of time. As he drew closer to climax he felt the beast inside him take over and for a second he almost came inside her but managed to pull out just in time, pouring his seed all over her stomach.

            He fell back in bliss. “That…might just very well be your special talent after all.”

 

***

 

            The morning came and Dumas yawned feeling more refreshed than he ever had in ages. He sat up on the couch, still naked, and quickly realized that Farah was gone. She must’ve left in the morning. He stood up in all his glory and slowly and lazily put on his pants. Today would be another busy day of constant work.

            Before heading back to the Azure Palace though he would reward himself with a nice breakfast and bath. First he ate, filling his stomach, and then took his much-anticipated bath. His limbs were still exhausted from all the running and overexertion his body did the previous day. The warm water relieved the stress of his muscles instantaneously.

            He ended up lasting longer than expected and got up in a hurry when he remembered Saphira. He dressed himself as fast as possible and ran to her room, cursing himself yet again for being so careless in guilt of his own selfishness. When he opened the door his heart dropped.

Saphira wasn’t there.

            “Saphira…Saphira where are you?!”

            He quickly ran to every other room in the small house, hopelessly wondering where else he might have left her, knowing the right answer. He shouted her name, hoping for a reply, receiving none. No! No! NO! NO! NOO! NOOOO! How could I let this happen? Saphira, where are you? Saphira! No…

            He found himself back in her room where he hopelessly stared at the cut ropes he had completely missed when he first entered the room. No, how could she have escaped? She couldn’t…there’s just no way. Then he saw it. A letter on the small table next to where she sat.

Dumas felt his whole body shake with rage and fear as he approached it and slowly picked it up.

 

Dear Great Dumas Erequix,

 

       I apologize that it must be this way, but in war, sometimes the innocent must suffer for the greater cause. I know your sister has nothing to do with Judicium or the True Believers, but unfortunately she just so happens to be the sister of what I believe to be an Angel. I truly do feel for you and your struggle, which is why I mean to help you…but only if you help me in return. For the next couple days I want you to spend the night in this very home as opposed to the Azure Palace. When I feel the time is right, I will come visit you so we may talk. I don’t think I need to tell you that not a soul can know of this or of us. I would also advice against meeting me within the Azure Palace and drawing any unnecessary suspicion. Follow these simple instructions and your sister will remain safe. And keep in mind that if anything happens to me, it’s your sister who will pay the price. Judicium will not value my life as you do that of your sister. Sorry it had to be this way, but this is war.

 

Your lovely w***e,

Farah

 

Author's Note

What are your thoughts on the new angle on Dumas's character? How do you feel about his relationship with his sister and his means to keep her alive? What are your thoughts on Farah (Felicia Mandeville, just in case you forgot she's Caius's Night)? What are your predictions towards the future?

Reviews

[Dark Rider]

Okay, now I'm starting to rethink Damus. He seems to care a lot about his sister. A big change from his narcissistic attitude in his first chapter. I think Farah is very clever. She certainly can get her job done fast. And I saw the ending coming. XD But it was still a great chapter! I can't wait to reade more.

[Cynical_Art]

As usual I will give reasons to cheer for everyone, it makes it that much more exciting when people start dying :D I should have the next two chapters up soon. One will be a Charles chapter and the other a new character.

[Dark Rider]

Well, so long as Caius or Venir doesn't die, I'll be fine with all the deaths you have planned. XD I can't wait to see what Charles is going to do next, and to see this new character.