In Absentia

Chapter XIII: Striking Deals

This whole damn project was taking far too long. All the weeks without sleep, the endless search for perfection, the endangering himself, it was all for nothing. What was the point of the last several years? Was all that time wasted, was he simply denying the inevitable truth that his own kid brother was gone for good? 

Gilbert didn't know, but he hoped another bottle might. Truth was, he didn't mean to become all drunk and morose, but the fun buzz he had quickly turned sour and killed his mood. He cursed whoever it was that invented killjoys and took a swig from his bottle as he sprawled out in his chair. Being alone only further ruined his mood, but he wasn't in any state to go out looking for company. In other words, he was stuck at home, by himself and with a rapidly worsening headache. 

He wouldn't have been alone if Ludwig hadn't been killed all those years ago. And so the vicious cycle continued. 

The knock on the door that came when he was halfway through his bottle was probably the best thing that had happened all night. Morning? No, it was morning, he could see sunlight peeking through a couple curtains. Damned curse anyway. What did the world gain from making sunlight so deadly to him? The whole thing was pointless. 

With a groan, Gilbert pulled himself up and stumbled over to the door. He would have welcomed just about anyone, but he didn't like the steps involved to get there. Was the door unlocked? He checked, and it was. So he stepped back, away from the sunlight that would flood in once the door opened. 

"Come in!" He called out, then cringed at how loud his voice was. Did he always sound like that?

The door creaked open, and of course it was Magistrate Braginsky who stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Gilbert muttered curses under his breath, praying the shady bastard couldn't hear him from that far away. 

"It's nice to see you too," the magistrate said with a small smile as he took off his long coat and hung it on the rack beside the front door. "I was hoping to catch you alone."

"Not exactly a challenge these days," the blacksmith mumbled as he sat against the back of his couch for support. "Why are you here? I didn't do anything. And if you're still pissed about me asking you to-"

"I've changed my mind," Braginsky said bluntly, without that typical annoying smile he did when he wanted to scare the life out of those around him. He sat down in the chair that Gilbert had been occupying moments ago, frowning at a couple of empty bottles as he played with his scarf. 

Now just what the hell was going on? Gilbert's heart climbed into his throat as he sat down on the couch, sort of falling into it. Something was wrong here, way wrong. Enough that his stagnant intoxication was dissolving into a fierce dread that quickly nauseated him. 

He rubbed his temples and took deep breaths, saying, "I don't get it. What do you mean you've changed your mind?"

The magistrate emitted a humourless chuckle and leaned back in his seat. "Exactly that, little fairy. I'll go to whatever hell you like and look for your brother. I've thought about my price, and I wouldn't mind getting out of town for a while," he explained, tucking his chin into his scarf once he was finished speaking. 

Gilbert couldn't help but stare. Surely this had to be some kind of cruel and tasteless joke. Braginsky liked messing with people, right? He wouldn't be surprised if this was the best kind of joke he could manage, especially if he was pissed off or if he wanted something. But that wicked smile of his was nowhere to be seen. 

It was best to go along with it, and to remain skeptical so he didn't get his hopes up. "What kinda price are you thinking?" He asked slowly, eyes narrowed.