TRACK 14
They told you, fix your broken heart
You have no home
Get up kid, tell yourself the truth or you'll regret it
Oh, it can only get better
(From a Cage - Envoi)
********
Shenyang was a cluster of neon lights and incomprehensible signs.
Even at 3 a.m., the streets were not empty, quite the contrary. Cars kept passing by and more than a couple of people -not counting their little group, of course- continued to zigzag in his field of vision.
Jim tightened his hood, pulling it down slightly, not so much as to prevent himself from seeing or even to the point of being suspicious -not that he needed to. All the people passing by were either staring at their phones or looking straight ahead, moving forward in a hurry. And mostly he was on a trajectory that allowed him to be unseen, hidden by the figures of the other three boys and the Familiar who appeared human-looking again. Douxie and Archie were in front of Toby, he and Steve immediately behind. Jim was in the center so that he was covered from all fronts except for his shoulders. -But that didn't change his main instinct, it didn't change in the least the feeling of tension that enveloped his stomach as he passed almost side by side with unfamiliar people who, if they even turned their faces away, might have peeked between them and noticed something odd about him. Like the rather bizarre shape of his hood, due to the horns.
Jim had not taken the illusory potion. Douxie had said that he would appear differently for twenty-four hours and... well, that meant appearing differently in Merlin's eyes, too, when they eventually returned to Camelot. And that would have meant having to give him a minimum of explanations. Explanations that he doubted would end with a simple 'okay' and to proceed on the main mission with ease. No. Definitely not. The old Sorcerer never just ended a situation lightly. It did not seem to be in his DNA .
Despite the mild general concern, he, like Steve and Toby, couldn't help but look around with admiring expressions at even the smallest things. Those cities had a different atmosphere from these of small -or even large- American ones. Perhaps it was because of all that neon, scattered in even the smallest signs. Maybe it was because of the shape of certain buildings, built of pure wood... From a distance, it had not seemed so different from the photographs of New York, but it was. It certainly was. And it was almost bizarre to find themselves seeing it, not even if they had already ended up in a secondary dimension.
Steve and Toby's struggle to restrain themselves from pulling out their cell phones and starting to take pictures left and right was more than obvious. Jim himself wished he could have taken a few, but because of the very part of himself that demanded to not be noticed in any way, he turned off the requests and chased them away with all the determination he possessed.
He therefore simply moved forward, trying not to step on the feet of either of the two in front of him. Both of them advanced at a confident pace, slowing down from time to time, occasionally casting glances and nods at each other, turning their heads toward roads where they then ended. They did this with such ease that it made it seem as if they knew the place inside out instead of being there for the first time themselves.
After several refinements and changes of direction, Jim could not help but notice a kind of pattern: more or less, every time it happened they were in the vicinity of graffiti. The graffiti always depicted the same bizarre, almost abstract shapes overlying circles, resembling random inkblots. Of course, it didn't explain exactly how they understood where to find more of the same, but at least it was something. Better than just not figuring it out, and feeling like an utter idiot in between.
They proceeded for a rather long series of minutes, their faint whispers being overpowered by the comings and goings of cars, then, once they reached a small road that had absolutely nothing safe or reassuring about it, they stopped. Precisely, they stopped in front of a building that was a mixture of wood, bamboo, and brick, with a battered, boxy door. It was covered in peeling gray ink, painting the surface only in patches, showing the soft brown underneath.
It looked like an old abandoned house, nothing more, nothing less. The only thing that distinguished it from a normal house was a small drawing of a snake's head on the right, very detailed in its scales.
"Is this it?" Jim found himself asking, surprised, eventually ending up covering his nose with his arm so as not to feel the heavy stench of rot hovering in the air, disgust and the urge to leave rising rather quickly.
'Ugh. It smells like a mixture of rotten fish, dung, and mold. Oh boy,' a grimace painted his entire face.
"Don't be fooled by appearances," Archibald replied unruffled, reverting in no time to his original form, perching himself on Douxie's shoulder. "It's the quickest way to drive away unwanted people."
"But is the smell really necessary? Ew," commented Steve, showing all his disgust in turn.
"Drive away, Steve," repeated the dragon patiently, waving his tail. "It is more than necessary."
"Couldn't they use a horror movie technique or something like that to drive people away?" He questioned again.
"It wouldn't work. Instead, it would end up attracting the attention of the police, supernatural or haunted house lovers, and... other magical creatures."
"Ah, okay."
Hisirdoux chuckled softly, then immediately reached out his hand and went to touch the entrance with just his fingertips. He mumbled something, a jumble of sounds of which Jim barely understood a final, whispered 'ong'.
The door lit up a little, accompanying it with red spirals that spun in on themselves and then swarmed out, causing a second Snake head to appear, this time drawn on the left wall. Both of them were quite creepy. The second almost seemed to move his eyes to look at them, an image that only served to make him feel a chill run down his entire spine.
The raven-haired boy turned in their direction, his eyebrow arched and a "Are you ready?" peeping from his lips as he pulled the hood down from his head, to which they all replied affirmatively, either by voice or only by nodding, leading them to take off their hoods as well.
Then he turned back around. He muttered something else, took a big deep breath, and pushed both sides of the door open wide.
At first, there was only apparent nothingness, total darkness that did not improve the look of the place at all. But then they all stepped, one by one, into the building. The situation changed drastically, not even if a button had been pressed to turn on the light.
What looked like a room in a bar appeared in front of them. It was very large, exceptionally long, rectangular in shape, with several small doors sprouting from all sides of the walls and a giant closed door straight ahead.
It had dimmed lights, furniture carved to the smallest detail, paintings and animal heads hanging on the walls, wine-colored curtains... and a single long counter on the far left, with lots of bottles behind it.
Bottles of both alcohol and blood, it seemed. They weren't even hiding it. You could tell even though they all had Chinese writing on them. There was a single red drop tracing the label, which made itself understood quite well.
There was no one in the room except right behind the counter: a man -impossible to define his age counting the very heavy layer of makeup that painted his face and that made him look like a hunk of marble- who had long hair, pulled back into a low ponytail and was wearing very old and elegant clothes.
''Don't do, number one: don't stare at anyone. Above all, don't stare into their eyes for too long."
Jim gave only a glance, then, just as quickly, shifted his gaze, already feeling uneasy. They were pale purple. So pale as to look almost pink. The pupil was longer than normal.
Archie and Douxie gave him a cautious bow -The Wizard showing the glove for good with Nari's Guarantee in the meantime- to which Jim, Toby and Steve imitated them, trying to show nonchalance and not the general tension that gripped them. Toby, especially, had to strain to keep his cloak from opening in the movement, showing the belt with the stakes underneath.
''Don't do, number ten: don't show you're armed. Just don't, no matter what. They really don't like it. And you have no idea how they could react. They could just be upset at you... or straight up homicidal. They are good for our protection and it would be insane not to have them, but hide them. Unless they actually attack you first, of course."
The Vampire returned the bow gracefully, at which Douxie was back to his original position with a manner neither too slow nor too quick. Almost studied. Jim and the others tried to do the same soon after.
Douxie, following this, approached the counter with a silent, watchful step, going to sit on one of the red-bearing metal chairs that were in front of the counter, crossing his legs, arms left in his lap.
Jim, Steve, and Toby did not sit down. They merely stood behind him, Jim himself looking around and simultaneously casting hasty glances at the Vampire there. The lack of armor made him feel frighteningly uncovered and uncomfortable. Even more so than walking down the street with people around him.
No one said anything, but still, the bartender went and fished out a white bottle from one of the counter's inner shelves and placed five glasses on the wooden surface, pouring a clear liquid into each one. It could easily have been mistaken for water. It wasn't, of course.
Douxie took one of the glasses without lingering too long and downed it in one swift swoop, Archie went to fall back on the surface of the counter, approaching another of them and beginning to lick it... So Jim did the same, even though he had felt uncertain in part about what to do -Hisirdoux had not mentioned it previously. But already counting all the things he had informed them about, it was quite normal. From the natural way with which they both had ingested it, it should not have been a big deal. He just hoped it wasn't alcohol or something like that... and at the same time, wondered a very sudden and spontaneous question: could a dragon ingest Alcohol? He didn't know- Toby and Steve did right after him.
''Don't do, number five: don't refuse anything that is offered to you, speaking of food, drinks or presents, except with an excuse that accepts no retort. To refuse would be seen as rudeness, a denial in the face of an offer of friendship. In any case, the fewer conversations you have with them, the less risk there is of them doing so. Staying away from them should be enough.''
"Risk?" Jim had asked when Hisirdoux had laid out the rule, seeing both the raven-haired boy and the dragon nod.
"You can't know what they put in them," Archibald had replied.
"Right. Yeah. Do not accept candies from unknown people. Got it." Toby had said.
The drink had almost no flavor at all, except for a hint of peppermint. It gave no burning feeling in the throat, nor unsettling sensations... It did not seem to have brought any definite results.
But even before they all knew it, the Vampire spoke. And although he was not speaking in English, they all understood him perfectly. Just as, all of a sudden, the writing on the bottles and on the small nameplate that the Vampire was wearing -Guo Toshi?- became legible.
"What is a loner Mage with the mark of one of the primordial half-gods, his Familiar, a..." he thinned his gaze "...Troll, and two humans doing in the Vampire Nest of Shenyang?" He asked in a cold and emotionless voice, retrieving the empty glasses immediately and laying each of them in a hidden spot behind the counter, starting to rinse shortly after. In his speech, Jim tried to force himself not to stare at his mouth to peek at his teeth. "It doesn't appear to be a simple social call."
"It's not, you're right," Douxie replied, nodding slightly and lowering his head. "Hisirdoux Casperan, at your service."
"Never heard about you," the Vampire quipped coldly.
"Not by name, probably, no. Nicknames, maybe."
Toshi stopped rinsing for a moment. Then he started again, not changing his expression. Not even a little. "Go on, Wizard." He said.
"Yeah, so. I don't know which exactly is the title you could know me for, but I know who and what I'm connected to, historically speaking. So... If it doesn't offend you, Business first, a little clarity later." A short pause. Toshi raised an eyebrow but nodded. "I'm here to talk privately to Cold Fury if that is possible. In the name of an old mutual friendship."
Hisirdoux seemed calm. And perfectly confident. Almost in his natural environment while talking.
Toshi was silent for several seconds. They were not allowed to stare at him to somehow avoid bothering him, but he made no issues about staring at Douxie with an attentive and inquiring gaze. "Old mutual friendships, you say," he asserted, something almost curious in the tone of his voice.
"The Phantom of Vienna," Douxie said, as Archibald climbed back onto his shoulder. "Bastian Kühn was an amazing host. Couldn't ask for a better one."
"Oh," Toshi seemed to finish rinsing the glasses but didn't start to dry them, stopping himself in place. He left them there, his expression not anymore utterly impassive beneath the makeup. His eyes seemed to shine suddenly as if he had realized something all at once and his mouth opened a bit, leaving him slightly gaping for a short amount of time, before trying to show a bit of composure again, still gulping down a bit of saliva.
"The Son of the Dragons, I suppose?" He questioned.
Douxie nodded, going then to tilt his head a little. "Exactly. That's the one." He caressed Archie, who moved from one of his shoulders to the other one.
"...Just a second," said the Vampire. Then he set off ata faster-than-normal pace -almost hurriedly, a rather bizarre fact for how frosty he had appeared at their entrance, if not for those slight hints of reaction he had shown... especially the last one- and disappeared behind one of the purple curtains, leaving them waiting there, with only silence for company except themselves.
"Is that good or...?" Began Toby in a very low voice, barely interrupting himself.
The tense expression shown by both the Wizard and the Familiar was not a clear answer. Verbally they said nothing. Not immediately at least.
"We'll see," murmured Douxie after a while, standing still in his chair, his back stiff and his nose scrunched. "It's just the first step."
"Son of the Dragons?" Suddenly asked Steve, still in a whisper.
He shrugged, caressing Archie's fur and moving his hand behind his Familiar's ears.
"Was your mother, father, or both of them Dragons? Or..."
Hisirdoux made a dumbfounded expression, turning his head sharply in the blond boy's direction, stopping whatever sentence Steve was going to say. "What the... Do I look like I have scales, horns, or a tail anywhere?"
"No tail, and no horns either... But I can't tell anything about the rest. You even have gloves covering your hands, dude... You could hide anything, what do I know?"
'He's not wrong about that, actually,' Jim found himself thinking, arching an eyebrow, as Douxie's hand in Archie's fur twitched, while the Dragon suddenly stiffened, if only for a moment. Then they went back to the way they were before in the blink of an eye.
"Huh. That's... fair." Douxie said simply, his voice extremely low. "But, no. No scales on me."
Jim could not help but be somewhat puzzled by the reaction. Part of him would have liked to ask questions, but he decided to put them all aside, especially after seeing Toshi's return.
He was not alone. Two others were behind him. They both looked very similar in appearance to him.
They were always wearing heavy makeup, so much so that they looked as pale as ghosts, always with white hair, always with very clear eyes. It was as if someone had wrung every last hint of melanin and life out of them at the same time. Albinos, basically, but even more impressive to look at.
"Permission to meet granted," said Toshi, returning to his apathetic and distant tone of voice. "Follow them, please. They will take you to Cold Fury, as you asked."
********
Donn bent slightly over his legs, resting his hands on his hips and looking down at Nemain's lying figure. She was bound somewhat tightly by a synthetic rope, -knotted at least six times- was blindfolded and had an anti-magic collar around her neck.
Her face was painted with a furious expression, to say the least, so much so that she was even grinding her teeth like a rabid dog.
He had struggled to find her after Badb had called him saying that she had not responded to her Summoning request. Her Location had been hidden for several hours... and when it had reappeared, he had followed it to a rocky, isolated beach on Bolshoy Shantar Island, the largest in the Shantar's Archipelago. Not a shocking fact, counting the resonance there, but the fact that the Witch was reduced to that state was certainly a surprise.
"How in the Snallygaster did you end up like that?" He asked, taking away the blindfold that covered her eyes. He did not know whether to be worried for her because of the collar or amused because, from time to time, karma for her slightly too cranky attitude would hit her and he found it kinda hilarious when it happened. "Who kicked your butt? Enlighten me."
The grimace on Nemain's face even worsened, so much so that she looked more than ready to commit murder there and then, although she was not at all capable of it, reduced like that. "...I don't know, you moron." she spat out in a sour voice, kicking the ground and displacing several small stones on impact. "Whoever they are, the son of a bitch has erased my memory."
"Well," Donn decided to get to work on freeing her, partly because making her wait would only make her angrier, retrieving the bayonet and smashing the rope with a quick, more-than-usual flick of his wrist. "You need to look for Macha as soon as possible, then."
"You don't need to tell me that," she blurted out, still unnerved, hurriedly going to pull herself up, letting the cut rope remain on the ground and giving it a look. Not a mere glance, but one that seemed to show her full desire to set fire to it. A somewhat exaggerated disdain, counting that it was not the fault of the rope itself, but of whoever it was that it had belonged to... and whoever had kicked her ass. Who was gonna pay for sure, even though Donn wasn't that much of a fan of Nemain's attitude.
Donn picked up the synthetic material, going to shove it with the blindfold into the old shoulder bag he had brought with him, where there were mainly supplies, all enclosed in paper bags. They were mostly sweets -He had so many Clove rocks. And just as many Cadbury Dairy Milk Bars. He loved them both- The more sugar the better, both for his taste and for his Magic. A better energy boost could not have been had.
When he finished, raising his head, he found Nemain looking him in the eye, pointing to the anti-magic collar with her right hand, looking impatient. "Get it off my neck, will you?"
Donn rolled his eyes. "Never ask 'please', do you?"
She huffed, visibly annoyed. "Get stuffed. There is no time to waste."
'Typical response from her.' Donn decided to follow her request to avoid a quarrel.
He quickly went to find a pair of dark gray gloves, which he put on instantly, then the Daedalus Key he had on hand. He felt an ever-so-slightly sour feeling in the pit of his stomach as he looked at it once it was pulled out.
Then he thrust it into the slot of the collar, unlocking the mechanism with a slight ' click' and causing the metal to fall back to the ground with a thud. The collar, unlike the two before, was not retrieved by him.
"Thank you," Nemain asserted in a slightly less harsh manner once she was free, to which he nodded at her. "Let's go, now." She then blurted out, her eyes going bright red even in her sclera, somewhat like her own Aura, which seemed to explode around her. This was while she was massaging her neck with slow circular hand motions, the black veins slowly disappearing from her skin.
Donn put the instrument away. "Yes, yes, Your Majesty," he replied, receiving a look from her that seemed to say 'Piss off.'
He did not feel one hundred percent like setting out to return to the Lair, in all honesty, but exposing the thought would surely only increase the Bones Witch's nervousness. And it was high enough already; giving wood branches to the flames would have been downright stupid.
Donn still ended up looking at Nemain shortly after they set off, suddenly realizing something. "The Chimeras?"
"Gone. Whoever my opponent was, they must have killed them all... or maybe they threw them into the Limbo and they still must be trying to get out of it. Fuck if I know."
"You think they were a Mage?" Donn crossed his arms. It could have also been another semi-human creature, hard to be sure about it...
"To clash against me and come out as the winner, binding me and all? Yes. A fucking dullard Mage, because they should have killed me instead of letting me go alive, but still a Mage." Nemain paused, one of her hands going into the pockets of her cape before her eyes snapped open. She even went to the second pocket in an agitated manner, but came out the same way.
Donn saw her stop, paralyzing herself on the spot, taking the cape off her shoulders and kicking it to the ground, shoving her hands beneath her dress and stockings. Even into her shoes.
"There's no way..." she muttered furiously, after finishing her checks. She was barely trembling, appearing so stiff asto resemble a hyper-realistic statue. "The dirty fucking asshole stole the Sealed Emblem from me."
He, too, ended up stopping walking, looking at her. "Maybe you just lost it? I always told you to put a zipper on those pockets but with your fixation on looks..."
She opened and then closed her mouth again, looking at him with an expression between offended and irritated, then making a noise of pure frustration. "Do you think I'm that dumb? It was connected to my magic! It wouldn't have gone anywhere except with a burnout or an anti-magic collar around my neck!"
"Exactly. The Mage brought you all the way here from who knows where. It might even have slipped out of your pockets during the journey."
"Donn..." she said in a sing-song voice, flashing a forced smile painted with pure irritation. "Don't fucking test my patience with your random Sherlock Holmes-y assumptions. I'm angry enough as it is. Fucking hell..."
Donn arched an eyebrow, then he sighed, rolling his eyes. And he decided to keep quiet.
'Well, alright. Always so amazingly sweet, honey,' he thought sarcastically.
********
''Don't do, number two: don't show wavering or insecurity with anyone, but don't be haughty. Too much is jarring on all sides, except when it comes to showing yourself elegantly in public and respectful toward them.''
What Jim, Steve and Toby saw after exiting the large building left them even more speechless than Shenyang itself. Perhaps not to the level of when they had first entered the Trollmarket, because it was hard to top the level of majesty that place had, but not so much either.
The Bridge -of entirely black wood, decorated with gold symbols, which did not translate like the Chinese writings- on which they had ended up after crossing the exit was very long and partly scary. It led them in the direction of a staircase that first descended and then climbed dizzyingly, going to divide into seven arches, all reaching different parts of the city in front of them, divided by ditches covered by nature climbing into them... or by large lakes with semi-transparent boats.
One of the seven parts, the one in the center, had the largest buildings and seemed to be the very heart of the city even by looking at it in the distance.
All the buildings were lit by floating lanterns and were built differently for each faction of the city, giving it, though, a feeling that was like a sense of continuity. Maybe for the ancient Chinese style. The thing they all had in common, too, was the colorful Gothic stained glass windows that, almost ironically, resembled those found in churches.
Everything was covered by a ceiling of dark rock, but polished to the point of being almost totally smooth, embellished again and again by those stained glass windows that were, however, reminiscent of iridescent stones crossed by rays of light. They in turn illuminated everything around them with large halos of colors, not too bright to be eyesores.
"Wow..." murmured Jim in a breathy voice, feeling it somewhat hoarse. He forced himself to keep walking, avoiding getting stuck in place and perhaps thus risking falling behind.
He then took oxygen and threw it out, continuing to recapitulate every single don't-do -there were ten- in his head almost mechanically. And mostly hoping not to forget any of them as he continued to look around, always moving forward.
They had said them several times before, repeating them as in a mantra -Steve in particular had been forced to say them at least twenty times- but Jim preferred a little mental review, hoping the tension would not play tricks on him. Having partially interpreted them as theater lines had helped a lot.
''Don't do, number three: never start speaking directly to someone on your initiative. Always wait for a question or permission, if there should be a need.''
For that rule, Jim was more than sure that he would have no problems. He had no intention of striking up a conversation with any of them. Just as he would have no problem with rule number six.
"Don't do, number six: No physical contact. Not even small ones. Among vampires, physical contact is exclusively for family members, close friends, and partners, unless requested for help. Still, it's seen as sort of an off-limits way of interaction."
"Can Vampires have children?" Had asked Toby, open-mouthed in surprise.
"They can't reproduce, no. But blood sharing and transformation of an individual is seen as stretching one's genealogical bloodline in the Clans."
When they reached the part of the ladder that went up, Jim saw Toby take a big deep breath. They were certainly less than the ones they had walked up in Camelot's Castle, but it was the way they rose to reach the arches that would bring anyone into a cold sweat, trained or not.
''Don't do, number eight: Avoid getting hurt at all costs. It may seem an all too obvious rule, but whether it is or not, it is surely the most important.''
They had to be very careful where they stepped. All of them. Even after drinking the garlic and hawthorn mixture, it was much, much better if none of them had fallen and maybe skinned a knee in the process.
Jim picked his way up the steps, casting yet another hasty glance at the two Vampires who were leading them to their destination in the meantime, returning only later to the white rock, trying not to end up dropping his gaze to the ravines, who knows how deep, on either side of the stairs.
********
Reaching the heart of the Nest had been an indescribable effort, but Douxie, despite everything, saw it as a good first achievement. They all could have been thrown out at moment zero, but it had not happened. Of course, being thrown out and then going back to Camelot with their tail between their legs was less dangerous than risking being attacked later, but it was certainly much more humiliating. And frustrating. Yes, very frustrating. Like having the door slammed on your face even before trying to do something properly.
A large crowd of Vampires surrounded them when they reached the main square, the one where Cold Fury's dwelling was, a seven-floored building with the doors already wide open -also showing curtains. There were curtains everywhere. Douxie couldn't see the reason for that if not because of the mysterious look they gave to the place. Vienna's were less like that. They had large Victorian Age looking buildings instead- but protected by numerous Guards, who were distinguished from the common Vampires by a few silver stars that decorated the sleeves of their clothes.
Some of the Vampires had dyed hair due to probable recent travels in the human side of Shenyang; others continued to appear with their natural white hair.
Douxie could feel their gazes, especially those of the townspeople. Some of them were simply interested in the news of the moment, while others seemed to be looking at them like snacks rather than people. The latter was not appreciated, but unless the Chief had ordered it, it was difficult for them to try to assault them anyway. At least, he hoped they would not. Had they not had enough control, everything would have gone wrong even by standing there for a couple of minutes.
One of the two Vampires who were escorting them went to deal with the very crowd, immediately trying to get them to disperse, the other instead turned toward him a second and then nodded to the Guards shortly after, continuing to walk in their direction.
Douxie cast a glance at Steve, Jim, and Toby. The blond immediately flanked him on the side where Archie did not cover him. Jim and Toby, on the other hand, stayed behind him in a single line.
They reached the Guards at the door. And Hisirdoux was already fully prepared, in his false confidence, to make for the entrance to the building only to have four possible outcomes: the first, perhaps too optimistic, would have allowed him to proceed with the others behind him. The second, a slight variation, but still quite optimistic, would have let them enter but split them up in front ofthe Leader's room. The third would have let only him and Steve in, leaving Jim in front of the door and Toby a little further back. The fourth, the worst of them, would have been a total refusal of entry... and a possible assassination attempt. Or a kidnapping attempt.
He had no idea which of the four it would be. Guo Toshi's agitation could have been read both positively -recognition, respect, listening, and possible alliance against the common enemy- and extremely negatively -fear, contempt, seeing him as an enemy to be taken out of the way at the most opportune time...- so he could do nothing but mentally swear, pet Archie on the back of his head from time to time, and hope for the best.
A Guard -so bloody tall! Douxie kinda wanted to wear boots with high heels at that moment, to feel less small- when he tried to enter, stood in front of him. And Douxie already began to sense the pattern.
"Only you," he said dryly, his gaze traveling to Archie, Steve, and the others. "No one else."
'Blast it.'
Douxie didn't show annoyance. He took a small breath, threw it out, and raised his head with all the grace and self-confidence he could muster. Which wasn't a lot, but he was good at faking it
"It's a little impolite to take my bodyguards and my Familiar away from me, don't you think?" He said cautiously in response, trying not to sound sour. Or rude. Being rude would have been the worst thing possible. But looking a little offended was necessary. "This building is full of them, after all. And it's just small talk... Someone could think you may have an interest in leaving me alone there." A theatrical pause, in which he saw a second Guard shoot a stern glance at the first one, causing him to stiffen his jaw and narrow his eyes a little.
"You, your Familiar, and the human in front. No one else." The first Guard asserted. He sounded almost robotic while saying this, and his tone accepted no attempt at debate.
'That's it. A bit better than the murder-kidnapping option.' He thought, trying to maintain a calm expression, although some part of himself wanted to try to get off balance and retort somehow. Maybe forcing his hand a little. But...
'Not a good idea. Division it is, then...'
Douxie lowered his head slightly, "Fine." he said, smiling a little, not showing his teeth. "Thank you for your patience and understanding." He added before turning yet another time in the direction of Jim and Toby, meeting the eyes of the Trollhunter at last. Jim nodded back at him.
Hisirdoux then turned back to look at Steve and subsequently at the door. He walked through it with anxiety instantly taking over his guts, moving one of the curtains with a small movement of his hand.
The building was large. Refined flooring, a newly repainted parquet floor. A rich aesthetic with attention to the smallest detail. The walls were dark green, decorated with an almost baroque-looking taste. Various statues and paintings occupied the walls and corners. Even the ceilings of the rooms displayed artworks, although Douxie was not sure who painted them -They had no famous trait, but weren't too old- along with rosettes with fine settings.
Steve, on his left, had the look of someone who wanted to make three thousand different comments, as if he were about to lose his mind at any moment, but he was visibly restraining himself, taking repeated deep breaths.
Archie, on his right shoulder, on the other hand, was looking around with total attention, ready to attack anyone who had even tried to do anything he didn't particularly like. His tail was being waved almost twice per second and his ears were pulled back. With the Vampires in Vienna -especially in the first few months- he had behaved in the same way. Perhaps even worse in some ways. He had yet to growl, at least. Douxie resumed stroking him, as he could not send strong emotions of any kind to him to help him relax a bit, but just hints, bubbles of feelings that rose in and out, without leaving an impact.
The Vampire who continued to accompany them, leading the way, pointed them to a hall with a long table, covered with a tablecloth that almost touched the ground, but devoid of dishes of any kind on it. "Take the stairs and then to the left to the red door. Cold Fury is waiting for you."
His tone sounded much more respectful and kind of both Guo Toshi and the Guard who had blocked him. However, he then seemed to want to deceive him with a fake sense of freedom to do as he pleased without any issue following it. As if they weren't being watched in every smallest movement, ready to be attacked if they even breathed too loudly for the Chief's taste.
They still followed his instructions perfectly, all senses as sharp as possible, without trying to show their alarm in between. And the red door appeared before their eyes soon enough.
It was not exactly red. No. It was more of a reddish-brown, with scarlet red writing that simply said 'to protect the weak unable to defend themselves is the strong people's task.'
It was an interesting catchphrase. But Douxie was not going to budge in his alarmed state. If the words were just words, Cold Fury could have written a dirty joke as well and Douxie would have read it in the same way. No, maybe not. Perhaps he might have laughed at it for the innovative and unexpected choice.
The door, of course, was also protected by a guard, but this Vampire did not comment. He merely banged his fist on the wood twice before receiving a "Come in" from a clear, youthful male voice. And then he opened the door for them.
They entered.