ROSES HAVE THORNS-Chapter 100 - Calm Before The Storm

"Hey Dom. Where’s Mr. Shittypants?" Kurt asked when looking around. "Don’t tell me you came straight from your place to here?"

"Really Dominik? Did your girlfriend’s smooches seriously scatter your brain so much that you forgot to bring the most important piece to this puzzle?" Emelie sighed as she shook her head.

"What?! No way! Where’s the trust, guys? Not to brag or anything, but it’s basically confirmed that I’m going to be the next chief of the prefects once Chief Hudson retires. It’d be pretty dumb of me to forget to bring our so-called ’golden ticket’."

"But, like, did you actually forget to bring him, though?" Kurt asked. "It’s ok, you can tell the truth. Emelie and I won’t judge. You’re in a safe space."

"... I did–"

"Dominik..."

"Dom..."

"–not forget about him. He’s currently being escorted here by two of my colleagues. They’ll also help me sail this ship and act as minor support during this operation. Now where’s my apology? Emelie, you first." 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

"Haaa. I’m..."

"You’re..." Dominik’s smug smile grew wide.

"I’m gonna put my shit in the room quarters." Emelie waved her bag in his face and floated on the ship.

"I should’ve expected that. Now it’s your turn, Kurt. Apologise for ever doubting me."

"Haaa. I’m..."

"You’re..." Dominik’s smug smile once again grew wide as he blocked the way for Kurt to get on the ship.

"I’m pretty sure that’s Mr. Shittypants." Kurt pointed to his right, toward the end of the pier, where two men were pulling a cage on wheels with another man inside.

"Oh come on, dude! At least give me my vindication!"

As the trio drew closer, the person inside the cage became visible. They weren’t sitting or standing, but huddled in the center of the enclosure, wrapped in a tattered cloak that did little to hide the silver glint of shackles.

""Good morning, Dominik sir!"" The two prefects greeted.

"Morning boys. Did you bring the tags?"

"Yes sir. Chief Hudson has fully inspected them and found no faults. Here you go." The prefect with glasses handed the pouch over to Dominik.

While Dominik was talking to his colleagues, Kurt walked over to the cultist in the cage and decided to say hello.

"Morning, Mr. Shittypants. You’re looking quite... shitty. What’s with the rags? Don’t tell me you ruined whatever prison clothes they gave you."

"... Goddess Bula... sins of the wicked... brotherhood... forgive me... betrayal... important... alive."

"The hell?" Kurt frowned, kneeling so he was eye-level with the bars. "Enough. Save the theatrics for your prison daddy. I know you can hear me." He reached out and rattled the cage door. The sharp clanging should have startled anyone, but the man didn’t even flinch. His eyes were wide open as he rocked back and forth.

"The silver is glass and the glass is screaming," the cultist hissed, his voice rising slowly as he stared at nothing. "Can’t you hear the clock ticking inside the water? It’s counting the teeth. One for the tide, two for the bone..."

"The water?" Kurt looked at the calm ocean and back at the man. "Helloooo! Is anybody up there? What you’re saying isn’t making a lick of sense."

The man’s head snapped toward Kurt, but his gaze went right through him, focused on something miles behind his skull. He let out a wet, bubbling laugh. "The Goddess has no skin, boy. So why would you give a coat to a man made of smoke?"

"You’re not making sense, Mr. Shittypants. All I came here for was a greeting. But here you are–"

"Hahaha! AHAHAHA!"

"..."

"AAAHAHAHAHA! AHAHA! *cough* HAHAHAHA!"

"Man shut your bitch ass up!"

SLAP!

"Ahh! *Brap*" The cultist fell to his side and let out an audible fart on impact.

Kurt stood up, wiping the grime from his hand onto the back of his trousers. The fury he’d felt from the small interaction had boiled into an internal frustration, which he’s trying his best to contain. He then got on the ship and stood next to Emelie who was watching the sun rise up from beyond the horizon.

’Breath, Kurt. Just breath. You can waste him once his usefulness has reached its end.’

"Is everything alright?" Emelie asked, noticing him trying to calm down. "I could hear the sound of your slap from all the way over here. Not gonna lie, I was kind of expecting a moan to follow."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny. It’s just that our new friend was talking about some mumbo jumbo that made no sense. Then he started laughing to the high heavens and suddenly coughed in my face. It ticked me off so yeah, I slapped the shit out of him."

"Hm. Maybe he’s just tired. It is still really early in the morning."

Scree– Scree– Scree

From behind them, the two prefects were pulling and pushing the cage onto the ship while Dominik was standing a good distance away from them as he held his nose shut and fanned the air around him.

"Say, Emy. Does Dominik know the way to the island? I doubt Mr. Shittypants will be a reliable guide in this situation."

"No need to worry about that. When I gave the tags to him last night, I asked to have a one-on-one interrogation session with him. There, I asked him for directions to the island while waving around a map for him to mark so that the prefects wouldn’t suspect me from behind the glass.

He obviously wouldn’t tell me, not that I was actually trying to get him to, so I just took his hand and made it seem like he marked the spot where the island is. Then, I gave the map to Dominik."

"Nice going. It’s good that you’re always on top of your game."

"What about you? How come you always ask the important questions whenever it’s too late? First the thing about the extra verification, and now the map to the island."

"Meh. I’ve never been not good at planning. I simply do what I’m told, or I’m super focused on one thing and that thing only. I just ran straight ahead towards my objective and whenever an obstacle gets in my way, I deal with it then and there. I don’t plan for the danger that’s to come. I just... ’adapt’ to it." Kurt smiled at Emelie as if he were waiting for her praise.

"Ok I admit. That was a good one."

"Haha. Thank you."

The outer ocean now bled a pale, watery gold, cutting through the heavy indigo of the night. It wasn’t the warm, inviting sun of summer; this was a winter sunrise. Cold, distant, and brilliantly clear.

Kurt stood while leaning against the oak railing, his breath blooming white clouds. Beside him, Emelie stood with her hands in her jacket, her hood pulled off as her hair gently flowed with the wind.

"It’s beautiful," Emelie murmured, her voice barely carrying over the gentle slap of waves against the hull. "You almost forget what we’re heading toward when it’s this still."

"Heh, says the regressor." Kurt chuckled. "I honestly have no clue what awaits us there."

"Heaven on the surface. Hell in its depths."

Behind them, the peaceful atmosphere was punctuated by the uniform sounds of preparation. Dominik was already hauling on a heavy line, his face set in a grim mask of focus as he checked the tension of the mainmast rigging. The two prefects moved in sync, their boots thudding against the damp deck as they uncapped the winches and cleared the heavy coils of rope.

The clinking of metal shackles and the groaning of the wooden masts acted as a ticking clock. There was no shouting amongst anyone. Just the practiced and efficient movements of men who knew that every knot tied now was a life saved later.

"You know what they call the moment, Emy?" Kurt asked as he turned away from the sun and looked toward the cultist in the cage.

"What?"

"The calm before the storm."

"Psshh, I could’ve guessed that." she whispered. "I just let you have your cool moment."

"Mainstay’s clear! Prepare to cast off!" Dominik’s voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding.

"I’m gonna go meditate in my room." Emelie put her hood back over her head. "I suggest you go rest too. It’s going to be a long day."

"Will do. But I wanna hang with Dom for just a while longer."

"Mmhm. See you later then."

"Later, Emy."

As she left and Kurt turned toward the ocean again, He noticed that the sun’s visage was now fully visible, and that its golden light had turned into a frigid silver. The ship then began to groan as it turned its nose toward the dark heart of the sea, where hope and death loomed.

.

..

...

- At the same time on the island -

Tobias stepped onto the dock, his heavy leather boots thudding against the wooden planks and transitioning to the cobblestone with an aggressive cadence. As he strode through the pathway that leads to the island’s estate; servants, maids and lower ranked members of the cult all stopped to bow and greet him. However, he didn’t acknowledge a single soul.

His jaw was set, a muscle twitching in his cheek as he eventually reached the wooden doors of his private chambers. With a violent shove, he slammed them shut behind him, the echo booming through the hallway with a loud bang.

The room was dimly lit, save for the glow of a communication orb on his desk. It hummed and glowed sharp. Someone was trying to contact him. Tobias exhaled, smoothed his tunic, and answered.

"Good morning–"

"Finally, you answer our call, Brother Tobias." A singular, distorted voice interrupted him. "You need not speak. Only listen. We received word that you have jeopardised your mission and that the lives of many of our brothers have been lost under your watch.

In accordance with the members of the round seat, you are hereby to be demoted of your rank and are to return to the Sanctuary where you will receive further punishment for the lives that have been lost. We expect to see you in one week. That is all."

Once the voice finished speaking, the communication orb’s glow dimmed down and faded entirely, leaving Tobias standing in the silence of his own grievances.

Then, the dam broke.

CRASH!

BANG!

SMASH!

He swept his arm across the desk, sending heavy ledgers and a glass decanter shattering against the wall. He kicked his chair back, slammed his cupboards and let out a low, guttural snarl that ripped from his throat as he paced the room like a caged predator.

Seeking an outlet for the humiliated rage vibrating in his chest, Tobias swung the doors open to step back into the hall. He stopped dead.

A young female servant was hurrying past, carrying a tray of linens. She froze at the sight of him, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the silver edges of the tray.

"You," Tobia hissed, his voice dropping to a terrifyingly smooth simmer.

"M-My Lord!" The woman stuttered.

"Drop the tray," he commanded, his eyes narrowing as he scanned her terrified face. He felt the familiar surge of dark power as he opened his fox-shaped eyes, revealing a red glow.

The need to exert control over someone, anyone, after being belittled by his superior, was overwhelming. He gestured sharply toward the dark interior of his room. "Come here. I find myself in need of... a cleansing. My spirit is heavy with the failures of my mistakes."

The young woman hesitated for a fraction of a second before the sheer weight of his malice forced her feet to move. As she crossed the threshold, Tobias followed, his hand resting on the handle.

The wooden door swung shut with a definitive, echoing thud. The lock then turned, sealing the room and leaving the horrors within to the silence of the stone walls.