Alive At Crepusculum ✓ [TPL Book One]

XII

A month later, as flowers began to bloom, dotting green fields with color, and the sky was more often blue than gray, the chaos had subsided in United Arcan. The talk of murders and any other sinister ongoings diminished. The Red Circle went quiet, shutting its mouth as if sworn secrecy. It was like a storm had passed. Superstitions did remain, but not so heavily as time went on. May was a month of renewed calm and it was felt throughout the nation. U.A. had settled into peaceful days once again.

And the world was being thrust into change as Riçais, a country known for burning everything they didn't like, even snow, was going to host, no, demanding to host a world exposition. It would display the fine arts and a new invention of a lucky little man from rundown Lwendolen. Some new way of photography. Some moving pictures and the like. Not important here.

But of course, U.A. was planning to participate because what country wouldn't want the chance to boast about themselves? U.A. was a country that should have stood for "Unapologetically Arrogant", as they were just that. Their humble neighbor, Xemica, also wanted to join, but a man behind the curtains, some important rich bachelor with a mustache and gray, fluffy hair, began to whine.

The all-this-time silent king of Xemica decided he did not want his country on display 'like those monos' and prepared to throw bananas at 'Ar-KHAN mon-KEEZ' across the border in the middle of the night. Thankfully, he was stopped, and only a few "Ar-KHANs" could claim to have seen him.

* * *

"May fifth, 1855. Lookit. So many fives," Will Cooper said, as he read the paper.

Will was twenty-two, but he could pass for seventeen if he felt like it. He was slim, but not thin. He had curly black hair like burnt broccoli and often a cigarette hung out his mouth. He stood in an alley in Lupine reading the newspaper. His eyes filled with admiration.

There was a column on the Red Circle that day. A former Lwendolen man came out with a story about the Red Circle and how it caused so many horrors in his country, unbeknownst to everyone, Mallord Beagle himself.

"'Which I never want to be associated with again,' says here," Will said with a laugh and crumpled up the paper, tossing it over his shoulder.

"Red Circle my dreams." Will took a good suck on the cigarette that wasn't even lit for he had no light with him. "What if I could work with them? Eh? The Red Circle?" He turned to Michael Beagle standing sentinel, waiting for some words to be thrown in his direction.

"But how'd you find 'em?" Michael said, looping his thumbs into his belt loops, copying Will.

A grin slithered across Will's face in slow motion. He saw the hesitation in Michael's eyes to whatever plan was cooking up. To him, the kid was a 'soft butt' and could easily be molded into the kind of henchman he wanted. And the boy was just about ripe. He'd already gotten Michael initiated, showing him the perks of being in not just any gang, but his gang.

"Juss need a gun." Will stared at his cigarette and lifted his head to the bright blue sky. It was lunch hour, and he knew Mallord Beagle went out to get lunch during the week because the wife worked out of home. He also knew the 'old man' had a few guns. Michael told him.

Michael was shifting his weight from one foot to the other—a habit of nerves. Will gave him a smirk and said, "Fetch me yer pop's gun."

It amused him how pale Michael went.

"No, I-I can't do that!" Michael stuttered and crossed his arms. "I thought you had guns from Old Boy—"

"Figgin' hell with Old Boy. Took 'em all back when we parted ways." Will curled his lip, then he smiled. "Ya know, yer a good kid, Mike. A real good kid," He stood next to Michael, "yeah, 'n' you 'n' me go way back. Way back. I would give my life for you, 'n' I know you'd do the same, that right?" He draped his arm over Michael's shoulder, feeling him flinch, relishing the power game.