The early mist that'd enveloped the capital the night after what had seemed as a terrifying storm seemed to disappear at the crack of dawn, the unsettling sound of the spoils of the snowy rooftops accompanied him during his morning walk around the bank of Lun.
He made his boots sink in the damp ground in the hoarfrost in one of the many parks of the High Strands, the fresh viridian stems breaking under the pressure of his expensive soles.
Grey needed to think, to organize his thoughts and decide on the next move he would - they would have made soon. They. If taking into account the hound of the Imperial Family whom he's struck a deal with.
He lowered his gaze immediately after spotting a couple which apparently had opted for a calming walk in the park like him, looking away to maintain the state of anonymity that he loved to keep.
People didn't need to know how he looked, all they needed was his name, or the alias the common crowd had given him a few years back.
He'd been against taking on that name, but Nathaniel had convinced him after winning what had been a heated debate between the two, soon followed by a game of billiards.
Last night had been more hectic than usual, the tedious thing had been dragging the unconscious body of the priest around District Street without getting noticed, action which had proved more difficult than expected.
The man had been wearing on both things two heavy iron cilice, both tightly strapped around his thighs. A form of penitence, some would have called it an act of faith, the only way to have the ancient Helian God pardon all the sins of the miscreants.
Idiocy to its finest, the delusion of few who with pretty words had fooled the masses centuries ago, waving their lies into one intricate tapestry of well-crafted delusions.
After taking the man back to the bank he'd opted for the priests' confinement. It wouldn't have taken long before he'd started breaking down in the darkness of the cell.
Grey knew how it worked, at first he would have started banging the door to claim any form of attention, but that would have stopped after the first hours. Later his screams would have filled the underground cellars of the Bank of Lun, where nobody was usually around.
Then denial would have hit, the subtle awareness crowned in all its glory, the understanding that whoever had ordered him to partake in whatever was happening would have not come to his aid.
And finally, the violent realization of abandonment would have arrived, creeping under its skip, wrapping its boney hands around his mind.
A raven's cry broke his reasoning, the ruffling of its feathers a dark omen of what was going to hit the capital and the whole empire in the next months. He felt it boiling in his blood and in the wind that raged outside his resting chambers at night.
He loved walking before the advent of dawn, the mystical quiet when all still laid in bed under the duvets fearing the cold winter nights; a stronghold for his thoughts to roam free without continuous interruptions, a fortress he'd built one brick at the time.
Staring at a pile of snow still standing strong under the shadow of an ancient pine, he turned that way, crouching down as he took a handful of delicate snow in his free hand.
Snow didn't exist in his homeland, a land where winter rarely presented itself; a legend his mother loved telling him when she came back from her long travels. He watched impassively as the snow melted in his hands, the watery remains tumbling chaotically to the ground.
Clenching his hand he stood back up, flattening his coat before resuming his walk.
He passed another couple, this time pushing a pram filled to the brim with colorful fabrics and heavy blankets, lowering the tube under his eyes in sign of greeting, stealing a quick glance at the bundle of life peacefully resting inside the pram.
"You still walk at dawn?" Grey didn't stop at Nathaniel's amused question coming from behind him. Instead he kept on walking, savoring the quiet that'd just been broken.
"Don't you have eyes?"
"One would think that after five years you would have grown out of this time consuming pastime." The two now walked side-by-side, eyeing their surroundings with an innate predatory gaze.
"One would think that wisdom too comes with time, but here you stand and talk like the idiot I met five years ago," Grey finished with a coy smile, watching his assistant's amused smile drop to the ground.
Nothing was spoken between them as they walked around the common green of the High Strands, passing fountains carved out of singular blocks of marble and benched crafted from the finest wood bended by the most skilled crafter.
The mist started subsiding as the distant sun arose atop of the high buildings of the High Strands, trapping everything in an ethereal sliver moment of eternity. A canvas of once dull colors filled his eyes with remains of ancient stars captivated his gaze, keeping his eyes ensnared until the burning star raised itself completely over the rooftops of the buildings.
"Still not used to the snow and the cold?" Nathaniel asked a while later, when they continued their walk.
"I'll never get used to it," honesty laced itself between his words. He found it fascinating, how water could turn something seemingly so virtuous, and at the same time into something so misleading.
White in the appearance, red at the core.
"To what?" Nathaniel's furrowed eyebrows made Grey chuckle lightly, dimples showing as hot air clashed against the frigid morning air.
"Both."
He would have never gotten used to the splendor of the plains covered in white, of when the oaks shedded their ethereal leaves for the silent winter to spread its long and lucid fingers in between their branches.
Such beauty did not exist in his homeland, a land where blooms of the rarest were considered trivial trinkets to fill their homes, where the cold season had never set roots.
Nathaniel hummed in reply, periodically looking behind his broad shoulders hidden by a navy blue coat, his dark eyes narrowing at every small sound, at every singular movement his eyes could land on. A squirrel rushed down the brined meadow, his pawprints arranging an irregular work of art.
"Any news from the Seekers?"
The wind changed direction, the treetops surrounding their path started shaking violently the pines freeing themselves from under the slumber the empire had fallen into
Nathaniel rubbed his hands to fight off the cold, warming them with curt warm breaths. All excuses in a poor attempt to stall as much as possible the conversation.
"Have you gone deaf now?" Their walk was coming to an end, the heavy iron gates demarcating the end of the park.
"They don't want to get involved," An ungovernable phantom laugh broke the air, Grey's figure bending as if struggling to breathe in air, both hands on his knees trying to not make him tumble to the ground.
A lie. And Nathaniel, still knowing about his ability, had lied to his face.
He touched his assistant's cheek gently, hand cradling his cold cheek before forcefully grabbing his chin, tugging it forward before squeezing it tight - the color draining from Gaunt's already pale face.
"You dare lie to me, Nathaniel?" Grey seethed, voice dropping below zero, making the other realize his blunder a second too late.
Nathaniel contracted his jaw, veins coming forward as Grey kept him in place, his gray eyes pinning Nathaniel's dark ones on spot.
"They aren't fully convinced, they seem to know of Verity's existence,but still haven't come to a final decision," the other conceded. He seemed to choke those words out, unconsciously biting his tongue from the rushed hustle.
The rustling of their shoes gliding down the cobbled streets seemed mere child's play against the chimes of the belltower of Daunting Cathedral, accompanied by the rapturing cry of the ravens escaping from the snowy rooftops the surrounding area of the Cathedral in search of a safe place faraway.
Ravens were bad luck, walking harbingers of imminent death, or of death itself sometimes.
Their cries could be heard rippling through the skies after war, their dark feathers coating the lifeless corpse of the soldiers who bravely had fallen in battle protecting an ideal carved deep inside their hearts.
And their eyes, always watching from afar, always spying the spoils of war before descending after the passage of the storm, claws thrashing sensesly in an attempt to grab their new meal and bring it back to the nest. Could be an eye, a finger, or maybe the guts of a soldier torn apart by the enemy's blade.
These heralds of death never lingered around to idly chat with the winners, all they cared for were the spoils of the losers.
"They know, and yet remain impartial before the approaching menace," said Grey, voicing the thoughts that Nathaniel had kept for himself.
"They want you back Hector," Nathaniel whispered in reply.
"And they should know that I would rather choke on my gold rather than go back to them," he spat with disgust.
The Seekers rarely got involved in affairs not revolving around the Underworld. Only something that could disrupt their oppressive reign could make them choke on their own pride. Verity had been able to escape their radar up until now, or maybe it'd already caught their interest - and their refusal of collaboration an act to fool them all.
To avert the attention.
To hide the truth from the gaze of all.
And knowing how they liked to operate, that could have been without doubt the frightful modus operating they would have used to keep everything silent.
Four Seekers, one for each neighborhood enclosed inside Lowen. They'd emerged from the shadows over forty years ago, claiming what they'd called their rightful place at the ruler's table, at the same level of the Des Reslows. A direct challenge to a precocious throne.
A circle of lies, of favors, of profanity. Grey had always loved comparing them with the rotten ranks of what once had been the highest hallowed reminiscent of the past, when the spoils of what the Helian Church had once been, a symbol of hope during calamities, had shone so bright that in some moments it had obscured the bright cerulean sky.
"You can tell the Seekers that the blood debt has been paid; as if they weren't already aware of that." Nathaniel kept quiet, kicking a pebble in front of him to keep him occupied.
A full year had passed since paying that damned debt off, Grey had counted the days, piled up each dime, sharpening them as if blades ready to be dragged into battle.
Four years to pay off the debt that'd kept him alive up until now, four years passed with the sole intent of surviving, striving to reach a new dawn.
The Bank of Lun had grown. More than he - more than anyone could have ever anticipated. Numbers and equations had always come easy to him, as a child he liked to help his mother around, showing off his skills to all servants around his house.
"Oh they know, they're angry to have lost such an asset to the Apostles," It was subtle, but they both knew the true reason behind that choice.
to completely sever ties with them, that had been his intention all along. To break free from their opulence and vain
Grey had served under all four Seekers, changing master as if changing shoes.
They all wanted him for his abilities. And about that, he didn't know whether to feel valued as a person, or if as a beast brought to an auction.
"I'm currently very satisfied with the Apostles, their competence is what has surprised me the most," he'd met not even half of them, but it had taken two chats with them to realize their monstrous proficiency.
All had a specific job, a position to fulfill until death herself would have knocked on their door.
"Are they really such outstanding individuals?" Nathaniel didn't sound convinced.
"Didn't you see for yourself yesterday when you met her?" Nathaniel hadn't seen her in action, but Grey had.
He'd seen her grip her gun that night, her body cloaked in a convenient layer of darkness, while her hair a torch for him to follow in the nightfall.
In his eyes she'd danced last night, his mind a broken record playing the few segments of her fight which his memory he possessed he'd seen while immobilizing Krinston.
Her dance, the way she'd pinned the priest down, bringing him a step before death had made his heart twist on itself, nearly leaping out of his chest as she'd dealt the other the final blow to end it all.
She'd been brutal, yes, like a wounded beast thrashing around in search of its next victim. But that hadn't been enough for him to avert his gaze down, no. His curiosity for her had only grown. A need to know, to satisfy his growing curiosity towards her own person.
They were shockingly similar to each other in terms of thoughts, but at the same time two completely different people.
"That dangerous?" If Grey held her in such high regard, that meant something.
"She has no regard for her own life. Do you realize what this means?" Realization hit Nathaniel hard, his fingers curling up in a set of twin fists.
"It means that she won't think twice before betting her life knowing that there's a chance of winning that way," the answer came so easily to Nathaniel, action that made Grey nod in agreement.
Rosalynde Steel was a ticking bomb which Grey had crossed inevitably paths with, her mind continuously degrading her worth, tarnishing it into nothing more than a disposable weapon for the Crown to throw out after realizing it did not kill anymore.
It wasn't pity that'd made him strike a deal with her. It was understanding - he knew exactly how her heart was trying to break free, but alone? Her heart would have been buried even before trying to lift it up and heal it.
"What about Krinston?" Grey changed argument as they entered the Bank of Lun, the first employs showing up bowed down in greetings as they descended the stairs that lead to the cellars.
"Not placing his fat foot outside of the door," Gaunt snickered in reply.
"Then I guess I'll have to pay him a visit to see how he's been faring," Grey straightened his coat and checked the position of his hat twice before turning around, heading for the exit.
"Hector," Nathaniel's voice made him halt in his steps. Hr turned around, gray eyes struggling to see his assistance's figure in the glowing dark.
"I'll keep you updated if the Seekers change their minds," Grey said nothing to that, a silent appreciation was all Gaunt got as he silently left the bank, blending with the shadows of the workers carrying the goods inside the shops as the city slowly came back to life.
He summoned a C.A.R. waving his hat as the vehicle stopped in front of him.
"Where to sir?" The driver asked, suppressing a yawn.
"The Imperial Citadel."
He had to check how his partner was fairing after all.