"Why are you even bringing me with you?" Elle asked, her voice barely a whisper against the cacophony of the marketplace. His arm was around her waist, holding her gently, protectively, almost as if he sensed the tremor of vulnerability that ran through her. Her own arm was wrapped tightly around his waist, a desperate anchor in the sea of unfamiliar faces. It was the first time in her life she had felt so exposed, so powerless, amidst such a throng of people. Some would look at her, their fascination for her beauty crystal clear, their gazes lingering with an unsettling intensity, and she would instinctively avoid their eyes, seeking refuge in Lucian's imposing presence.
"You need clothes," he replied, his voice flat, casual, as if stating a simple fact.
Elle narrowed her eyes, her suspicion flaring. "You are enjoying this, aren't you?" She accused, her gaze searching his. She noticed a mischievous glint in his eyes, a subtle curve on his lips.
"Maybe..." he murmured, and continued his steady progress through the bustling crowd.
What if something in you was calling for something in me? The words echoed in her memory, a persistent whisper that refused to be silenced. She calling him? Something in her calling him? No, it was impossible, a ridiculous notion. It was him, trying to justify his actions, to manipulate her. There was no other explanation. How could there be?
Her eyes widened as he suddenly lifted her in his arms, a surge of surprise and a flicker of panic coursing through her. She instinctively clutched her fur tighter against her body, the revealing dress beneath was her only clothes and it made her vulnerable. To find herself so exposed, here, amidst this throng of strangers... she didn't dare dwell on the implications. "What are you doing?" She asked, sharp, as he effortlessly carried her over a small puddle of murky rainwater she would have stepped on without noticing.
"You were lost in your thoughts," he said, his gaze searching hers, concern in his eyes. "What's the matter, Elle?"
"You seriously want to know?" She replied with a hint of sarcasm. "I am a prisoner."
"It's your humanity, isn't it?" he continued, a low, thoughtful murmur. "The powerlessness, the suffocating certainty that you are just another one of them, with nothing essentially special." He paused, distant, lost in contemplation. "Often, I wonder about their lives. Some are meaningless, perhaps, but there must be something, a spark of genius in their existence that makes them unique and precious. But unlike the Praetorians, there's nobody to remember them, no archives to store their whole lives. They fade like names written in the sand by the ocean's shores."
"I am not one of them!" She retorted, sharp with defiance and a little offended. "I won't fade to time like they would, and I'm strong enough not to fade to the harshness of life or my enemies. My father made sure of this when I was conceived."
"Hmm... Were the Aethera involved?" He asked, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes.
"Of course," she answered with pride. "They have the monopoly on genetics, and nobody is more reliable than they are."
"Interesting..." he said, his gaze drifting away, in an ocean of thoughts. "I wonder what they're up to."
They reached the main square, a vibrant hub of activity, where a crowd had gathered around an improvised theater scenario.
"Come! The play is about to start! Come!" The announcer's voice, amplified by a small device, echoed through the square, inviting passersby. Those who were strolling through the square turned their heads, their faces lighting up with smiles, and eagerly joined the throng.
"This is an entertaining one," the announcer continued, his voice laced with anticipation. "It's said to have happened back when humans didn't have electricity, and religions were starting to spread like... no offense, a disease."
A stranger standing nearby chuckled, nodding in agreement. "You're not wrong though," he said, before pushing his way through the crowd to get a better view of the stage.
"What is it?" Elle asked, her curiosity piqued.
"It's called The King's Coin," Lucian replied, with a knowing smile. "Come, Elle. Let's watch."
Lucian led Elle to a spot near the front of the gathering, where they could clearly see the makeshift stage. The crowd buzzed with anticipation, a mix of humans, enhanced humans, and a few individuals with subtle cybernetic augmentations. The air thrummed with the energy of the square, a blend of exotic scents and the low hum of nearby holographic projectors.
As the play began, Elle's attention was drawn to the actors. They were dressed in simple, period-appropriate costumes, and their voices resonated with practiced clarity. The story unfolded, a tale of a wise king faced with a dilemma, two preachers offering conflicting versions of the divine, and the scholar who revealed the truth through the simple test of a coin.
Elle watched the play, her mind grappling with the subtle message of rational thought versus blind faith. She couldn't help but notice the diversity of the crowd, the subtle variations in their features, the tattoo-like lines on the skin of those with cybernetics.
"They seem to like this one," Lucian murmured, his gaze fixed on the stage. "It's a reminder of how far we've come."
"Indeed," Elle replied, scanning the crowd. "There are a lot of variations of humans here."
"Neo Switzerland is a capital of culture, Elle. Regular humans, those augmented by cybernetics, the very few who have fully synthetic bodies, and the genetically enhanced, like some you see here with subtle feline eyes or pointy ears," Lucian explained, gesturing subtly. "And then, there are the Ebony Knights."
He nodded towards a group of imposing figures standing at the edges of the crowd, their dark skin gleaming under the city lights. They were tall, powerfully built, and their expressions were stoic and watchful.
"The Ebony Knights," Lucian continued, his voice low. "They are the descendants of those who adapted to the harsh environments of ancient Africa. Their genetic strength and resilience made them highly valued. After the Praetorians were phased out, the Ebony Knights became the primary guardians of peace. They are genetically engineered to be exceptional warriors, but their purpose is to protect, not to wage war."
"They are all of the same race," Elle noticed.
"Their lineage is a point of pride," Lucian said. "Their history is one of resilience and strength. They were created to be the perfect guardians."
"What if I ask them for help with the kidnapping problem I have?" She teased, her eyes flickering towards the stoic figures of the Ebony Knights. "Would they kill you?"
A slow, confident smile spread across Lucian's lips. "Give it a try," he replied, his voice a low, amused murmur.
Elle's gaze lingered on the Ebony Knights, their imposing presence that of severe parents watching over children. She wondered, just for a moment, if she dared to test Lucian's confidence.
"Help!" Elle screamed, her voice cutting through the festive atmosphere like a shard of ice. Lucian's eyes widened, pure disbelief crossing his features. The entire crowd, previously absorbed in the play, turned towards them, their faces a mix of confusion and alarm. "He's keeping me against my will!"
A hush fell over the square, the only sound the echo of Elle's desperate cry. The actors on the stage froze, their expressions mirroring the crowd's shock. The Ebony Knights, their stoic faces unreadable, shifted their positions, their hands instinctively moving towards the weapons at their sides.
Elle's heart pounded against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the sudden silence. She held her breath, her gaze fixed on the Ebony Knights, wondering if they would intervene.
She turned towards Lucian, a triumphant grin spreading across her face. "What about now?" She dared him, laced with a hint of amusement.
"I Quantum shift us away," he replied, calm, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of tension.
"You have no keys left," she countered, her grin widening. "You have to let me go."
The Ebony Knights, three women and one man, with movements fluid and precise, closed the distance between them.
"Sir? Miss? What's going on here?" One of the women asked, her voice firm but neutral, her gaze shifting between Elle and Lucian.
"He kidnapped me!" Elle declared, her voice ringing out with desperate urgency. "I am Elle Devereux! I need help!"
"Sir, let the lady go," the man, Marcus, stated, firm and authoritative.
"Shut up, Marcus!" The woman, the leader, snapped, sharp and decisive. Marcus immediately fell silent, his expression a mask of confusion, until his eyes widened in recognition.
"Apologies, Lord Lucian," the leader said, her voice now smooth and deferential. "We beg you to take your business to a more private setting. For the peace."
"For the peace," Lucian repeated, a low, dismissive murmur. He pulled Elle back into his arms, his grip firm but gentle, and turned away from the bewildered crowd.
"What in the actual hell was that?" Elle yelled, a mixture of anger and disbelief.
"They know me," Lucian murmured, as if commenting on the weather.
At that very moment, the announcer's voice boomed through the square, amplified to a deafening level. "We are blessed! Honored! With the presence of a hero of ancient times! Behold Lord Lucian! Mars Praetorian! Killer of Kah, the New God who wanted to take down our city! Show him and his wife our respect!"
"Lord Lucian?!" One man began.
"It can't be! I never thought I'd live to see this day!" Another joined.
"I can't believe it!" A woman screamed as soon as a wave of cheers erupted from the crowd, a thunderous roar that echoed through the square. People surged forward, their faces filled with awe and admiration. Some reached out, their hands outstretched, as if hoping to touch him.
Elle's eyes widened, shocked with the sudden revelation a little, but even more with the second part of the announcement. His wife?! Echoed in her head, a surge of disbelief and confusion washed over her. How did they get to that conclusion? She turned to Lucian, her gaze searching his, demanding an explanation.
"Good job..." Lucian sighed, laced with a hint of dry amusement and she could swear he was containing a laugh. "You just made things extremely more complicated... Now everyone wants to touch 'my wife'."
They did.
"Don't fucking let them lay a finger on me, Lucian!" Elle spat, tight with panic, her eyes darting between the surging crowd and the stoic faces of the Ebony Knights.
Lucian smiled, a reassuring glint in his eyes. "I won't," he promised, firm and unwavering.
The Ebony Knights, their movements swift and coordinated, quickly formed a tight perimeter around Lucian and Elle, their presence a formidable barrier against the encroaching crowd. Their dark forms moved with a silent efficiency, creating a safe zone amidst the chaos.
"Apologies for this little incident," Lucian said to the guardians.
"No, sir," Amanda, the leader of the knights, replied, her voice filled with reverence. "You haven't been seen in many years, sir. I'm honored to meet the hero who fought the New Gods. Your deed is part of each knight's genetic memory, and now having met you in person, fills my lineage with pride. Any specific location you want me to blink you and your wife?"
"Kings and Priests Street, near the docks, please," Lucian replied, his gaze shifting towards the giant screen where now the battle was being replayed, his battle against Kah.
"Control, blinking Lord Lucian and his wife to Kings and Priests Street. I repeat. blinking to Kings and Priests Street." Amanda informed HQ.
"Received. Proceed, Amanda," Control replied, their voice crisp and clear.
"With your permission, sir," Amanda said, laying a hand gently on Lucian's arm. The world shimmered, the sounds of the crowd fading into a distant hum, and then, in an instant, they were standing on an empty street, the cries of seagulls echoing in the salty breeze.
"Thank you, Amanda," Lucian said, sincere.
"Sir, may I request something?" She asked, bold despite her reverence. She was in front of a living legend and her enhanced genes could tell her that this man made justice to the legend.
Lucian tilted his head, curiosity in his eyes. Elle watched him, her gaze fixed on his profile. He looked young, yes, but there was a vastness about him, a sense of ancient power that made her feel small. He's enjoying this, she thought, a hint of reluctant amusement creeping into her thoughts.
"Don't forget me, sir," Amanda said, soft but firm. "We fade like sparks in the dark, so fast that this world doesn't even notice us. But you, you can see us. Please don't forget that I served you, this one time… Even if this is little."
"I'll remember you, little brave girl," Lucian said, his expression solemn, his eyes filled with a quiet understanding.
Amanda smiled, a genuine, radiant smile that transformed her stoic features. She saluted Lucian, her movements precise and respectful. "May you and your wife have a pleasant time in Neo Switzerland, Sir, Mrs," she said. "And Mrs, thank you for this. You are truly a blessed woman, having earned this man's heart."
"I am-..." Elle began, her voice rising in protest, but Amanda had already blinked away, leaving her words hanging in the salty air. "Not his wife!"
Lucian released a short chuckle, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down Elle's spine. "Alright, blessed woman, you're safe again. You can walk," he said, gently placing her on the ground. "We're not far from our destination."
They arrived at a nondescript building, its entrance tucked away between a row of brightly lit stores. He led her inside, and she found herself in a dimly lit room filled with racks of clothes. The air was thick with the scent of aged leather and damp fabric. Lucian approached a man behind a counter, a sly smirk playing on his lips. "I need something for her," he said, gesturing towards Elle.
"Oh! Lucius? Is that you?" the old man, Karl, asked, his eyes widening in surprise.
"Lucian," Lucian corrected, firm but patient.
"Bah, Lucius, Lucian, it's the same," Karl joked, chuckling. "Welcome back. I saw you in the news a few minutes ago. You put on quite a show, my friend."
Karl pulled out a dress, a scandalous garment that was more suited for a streetwalker than a lady of her stature. "What is this?" Elle hissed, her cheeks burning with a mixture of embarrassment and outrage.
"Hmm... You could wear nothing when we are alone," Lucian smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "But I won't allow you to go nude in the street."
"Look again, you sure you want me in this?" Her cheeks were burning hotter.
"Karl..." Lucian said, releasing a sigh.
"Alright, alright... A man can't make a joke anymore, huh?" Karl said, chuckling, his hands moving quickly to retrieve another garment.
Her eyes narrowed at the audacity of his words, but she knew better than to argue. Karl handed her a simple black dress and a pair of boots that looked surprisingly comfortable. She took them with as much dignity as she could muster and went to change in a makeshift changing room in the back of the shop.
"I want some shorts, pants, trainers, shoes, shirts, blouses, and some nice jewelry as well, Karl," Lucian added, casual.
"So it's true what the news said, you finally got a wife," Karl winked with mischief in his old and tired eyes.
"You could say that..." Lucian replied, low and ambiguous. "She will stay with me for a very long time." He then added, "Have you seen Boris? I might need a key as well."
Elle stepped out of the makeshift changing room, the simple black dress and comfortable boots transforming her posture, filling her with a sense of regained composure. The dress was modest and practical, covered her from neck to ankle, a welcome change from her previous attire. The boots were cheap but comfortable, they grounded her, providing a sense of stability she hadn't felt since the day her father told her she would marry Alexander. Still, she put on top her fur, and held it tightly to her body. She watched as Karl nodded, his eyes lingering on her for a moment before he turned away to gather the items Lucian had requested.
"Better?" Lucian asked, his tone genuinely concerned in her comfort.
"I'm not your wife," she spat, with defiance. "I'm your prisoner."
"You heard us," he said with a wide, disarming smile. "Nice hearing."
The old man, Karl, returned with a large bag overflowing with clothes, and a small, unassuming box. "Here you go, lovebirds," he said, handing the bag to Elle with a wink. "And your new toy," he said, giving the box to Lucian. Lucian nodded, placing a heavy gold ingot on the counter with a soft thud.
"Keep the change," he said, his gaze never leaving Elle's.
"Always generous, my friend, hahaha," Karl said, chuckling as he pocketed the ingot. "And Miss, take care of him. He could get stubborn and get into trouble easily. I beg you could stop him from doing that. Hahaha. We men tend to only listen to the wife."
The words stung her, a sharp, unexpected pang of anger, but she remained silent, taking the bag and following Lucian out of the store. The short rain had ceased, leaving behind a cool, damp air. The streets, quieter now, reflected the neon lights in the puddles, creating a shimmering, distorted dance of light.
"I thought they controlled their weather too. Where are we going?" She demanded, her grip tightening on the bag.
"They control it, most of the time. They must be giving maintenance. As for where, we're headed to get a key for someone who needs a key," he replied, a low, enigmatic murmur.
"You know I will kill you right away if I get my powers back." She reminded him, her voice laced with a cold determination.
"And I'll be looking forward to it," he said with a wink, his eyes gleaming with a dark amusement. "If you fail, however, I will take you without caring for your consent or not..."
Elle's eyes widened with fury, a storm of angry words threatening to erupt. But she bit her tongue, clamping her teeth together, a silent vow of vengeance forming in her mind. If he was going to get her a key, she could endure his taunts. She would bide her time and make him pay for every insult, every condescending word.
They arrived at a dilapidated building, its facade shrouded in shadows. The neon sign above it flickered erratically, casting an eerie red glow on the words "BORIS'S BAZAAR OF THE FORGOTTEN." The air was thick with the cloying scent of incense, mingled with a faint, unsettling aroma that smelled faintly of burnt hair. As they stepped inside, the oppressive atmosphere deepened. The walls were lined with towering shelves, crammed with strange artifacts, dusty relics, and—her heart skipped a beat—real, bound books. I want them, she thought, her fingers itching to touch the aged pages.
The man behind the counter, his features unnaturally smooth and flawless, looked up, his eyes widening in recognition. "Master Lucian, I knew you would come," he said, his voice a melodic, almost ethereal tone that hinted at a complete departure from biological form. His perfection, far beyond the reach of mere genetic engineering, betrayed his synthetic-cybernetic nature.
"Tell Boris I'm here, John. I have a job for him," Lucian announced.
"Oh! That must be—" John added, looking a Elle, and she gritted her teeth at what followed: "Your wife."