The Burning City

Chapter One

That night Nik slipped out of the Keep and went back to the Shadow Market. He wasn't really looking for information, as much as he was looking to scrape away the rotting feeling inside of him. His heart was made of thorns and pieces of broken glass, and there were few who could handle such a monster.

He met up with Aleyda, who supplied copious amounts of spirits and powders that stripped all thoughts of terrible father's and gilded cages from Nik's mind. The touch of her skin on his, her mouth on his, on his neck, lower, sated everything in him that always craved. The starvation in his blood calmed when she took him apart.

She was the very last thing Nik's father would ever approve of. She was a low born girl who lived in the lowest parts of the cities, but she was the one to introduce Nik to the sparkling substances that made Nik sing.

He kept her away, like a sweet secret that only he knew the words to. Nate's disapproval of her went through his ears and out, for it was her that handled his jagged edges without blinking, no matter the blood that traced her fingers.

He didn't hold himself to just her, never felt inclined to be with one person. Nik didnt think there was ever a ‘one’. She let him be with others, didn't restrain him and he didn't hold her to himself. He was indiscriminate with his partners; man, or woman, or someone who didn't care to stick to a binary. As long as he got what he wanted in the end, the rest did not matter to him.

The next thing Nik knew it was morning. The sun sent his eyes screaming. The nausea that burned through his stomach, making his mouth taste dry was familiar enough that Nik ignored it. Rather it was the pounding in his head that bothered him most, the sunlight making it unbearable.

Aleyda slept next to him naked, her black hair covering her face and smooth back. Nik rolled over, an arm flung over his eyes while he sat up. He reached for a bottle of alcohol near the foot of the bed and took a drink before looking for his clothes.

Even if he hadn't set up with the intent of finding useful information, still he found it between the booze and kisses. Adeyla provided him with enough to turn over to his father; it would surely placate the bastard, at least for now.

Adeyla stirred in her sleep, groaning while she turned to look up at him. The bloodshot in her eyes made the dark brown irises look black. “You should come back to bed,” she said, in their shared language.

The native language of Itzel was spoken across the country alongside the common tongue across the territories.

Nik leaned over and kissed her deeply, but pulled back and threw his shirt on. “Next time,” he said.

Adeyla palmed her eyes. “You always say that,” she retorted, though there was no heat in her words.

Nik finished dressing and left the apartment. It was routine by this point to seek out the temple and Cura Ibarra. The priest had often suggested to Nik to call him by his first name when he was younger, but Nik never did. He never did give up, but he knew Nik was likely never going to give in.

The House of Worship was a large building made of stone. Above the double doors was a hand made window full of colorful pieces of glass. In his youth, Nik had broken it with a well thrown rock and instead of beating Nik bloody like he had deserved, Cura Ibarra took Nik in and had him work among the Devoted in cleaning pews and lighting candles and preparing services.

Of course that didn't stop Nik's father from taking a belt to him, but the priest never did. He remained stern and kind with a rather twisted sense of humor. It was the Head of the Devoted who was the one to look out for. He had been on her wrong side as a boy, but she kept an eye out for him and likely kept him from falling down the worst possible path. The sternest and most prudent woman he had ever met. But she still looked out for him, even now.

He found the priest unceremoniously sitting on the steps smoking a cigarette, cracking a smile when he saw Nik coming down the side walk. He extinguished the cigarette and stood up in time to offer Nik a sideways hug. “Its good to see you so awake this early, Nikolas.”

Nik grimaced. “I don't think so, Cura.”

He laughed. “Please, come in,” he said. “I'm sure Constanza will be glad to see you as well.”

“To put me to work, you mean,” Nik accused.

“Not today,” Cura Ibarra said. “She has the acolytes doing chores as we speak.”

Nik snorted, but followed Cura Ibarra inside the building. Indeed there were the Ladies and acolytes cleaning the cathedral, lighting candles and setting up for service. Nik sat in the back of the pews, with the Priest, watching everyone work in silence.

The darkness of the building was a nice welcome to Niks headache. They sat there, quietly, for a good five minutes before Nik said, “Nate is going to the Palace tomorrow.”

Cura Ibarra nodded. “It must be an honor to represent your family in court.”

“I don't want him to go,” Nik admitted.

“You could go with him.”

“I can't. my father has work for me here in the city.” He still had the information tucked away from Adeyla to give his father. Perhaps it was good enough to grant Nik some freedom from the bastards claws.

“I see,” Cura Ibarra said. “There is always a room for you here if you wish for a reprieve. Constanza can set it up for you.”

“Thanks,” Nik said. They both knee he wouldn't take it.

Nikolas spent another twenty minutes in silence next to the priest before he started getting restless. He took that as his cue to say goodbye to Cura Ibarra as well as the keen eyed Constanza before heading home.

The streets were starting to wake up, tired people scuffing around outside their shops sweeping the ground and setting up the flower stalls for tourists and regulars wanting to buy something nice for their partners. Maybe for their children.

Nik knew better than most that if you went a ways down the road, maybe a few miles and a few blocks, the stalls stopped being full of flowers and treats and switched to substances and other illicit products. Nik and Adeyla frequent the underground parties often. It was her that showed him the allure of such dark places.

The Keep where his father lived took up the entire street. The stone walls outside were guarded heavily with sentries trained in the Shining City. Their dark uniforms were immaculate but mostly functional. His father didn't care for any kind of personality outside of “I can stab you if you get too close”.

Nik and his brothers rarely brought guests to the Keep. It was easier to get away from his father's gaze than it was to try to measure up to his approval. Nik didnt care much to try to gain it, it was next to impossible and he didn't feel like debasing himself in the efforts of kissing the Lord of Itzel's boot.

Nik didn't bother trying to clean himself up before going in search of his father's office. His crumpled clothes and sunglasses would have to make their appearance sooner or later and Nik wasn't daft enough to think his father would look at him as if he were a shining example of what a son should be.

Nik didn't knock and went inside to plop down in one of the brown leather seats in front of the desk. He put his feet up on the desk and waited for his father to deign to look up at him from his paperwork.

He sat there for five minutes, fiddling with a small knife Nik had stashed away in his boot. Nik finally looked up when his father said, “Do you have anything worth my time?”

Nik fed him the information and his father leaned back against his chair. “And how did you get this information?”

“I don't reveal my sources,” nik replied, still playing with his knife.

Coal black eyes met his. “Likely from the whore you've been screwing,” he said flatly. “She's not worth your time.”

Nik ground his teeth. “Like you'd know,” Nik said. Nik slipped his feet on the ground and headed for the door. He flicked his eyes back at his father. “And she isn't a whore. I don't need to pay for company. She likes my personality.”

“What personality do you have outside of that of an arrogant, drug-addled child,” the Lord of Itzel retorted. “Get out of my office.”