Algernon Black || The Rise of a God ||

(Chapter 14) The Conclave

Aloysius gathered a plethora of clothes and unclaimed accessories that were out of season or left by clients for Lucy. He had no hope of selling them, anyways, and seeing Lucy's eyes light up with appreciation was reward enough. Jared insisted on paying, but Aloysuis said this was the smallest repayment of a great debt owed.

Jared thanked him still but didn't think Aloysuis owed him anything.

On top of the dresses, he also gave Lucy sturdy pants and plain linen shirts like the ones she usually wore on her adventures with Jared and a combination of long skirts and blouses. It lead to an extremely odd assortments but Lucy adored them wholeheartedly. He also threw in a variety of corsets, a pair of comfortable practical flats, and a set of heels so beautiful Lucy kept turning them over to make sure they were real.

Lucy never had so many possessions in her life, and suddenly she had a wardrobe consisting of the most stunning things she'd ever beheld. Aloysius still apologized saying what he was providing her with was on the plain unfashionable side of what the other students would be wearing which did nothing to lessen Lucy's love for the items but did make her question what level of wealth she'd be entering at this school.

Aloysius packed the immediate necessities in an old luggage set he had laying around and told Jared not to bother bringing it back when he offered too. The rest he would send to Lucy after he finished the alterations.

"Now Lucy, if you ever need more help don't be afraid to reach out," Aloysius said, seeing them off at the door. "I know there are a lot of events constantly being held so if you need another dress write to my shop and we'll send one over."

"Thank you," Lucy said and hugged the seamstress.

Aloysius stiffened, before returning the foreign sentiment.

Jared said goodbye to his friend with a bag of his own motley attire. He wore out the door a long brown coat that was of high quality but very old. It reminded Jared of something but couldn't place his finger on exactly what. Aloysius said he wasn't sure how it ended up in his shop but it was going to be thrown away if he didn't take it. On his way out, Jared reached into the pocket and found a small chisel used for woodworking. The man must have been a carpenter, which Jared thought strange for a carpenter to get anything custom tailored. He examined the handle's top where a worn-out sigil had been pressed into the metal. He couldn't make out the shape, but it looked something like a bird, probably the maker's mark that had been weathered through years of hard work.

The siblings meandered from the shop into the central city, taking the quickest route to the carriage set to take them to Attwood, but they had to pass the Conclave of the last good king's council, purposefully located in the center of the town. As always, a crowd surrounded the pantheon of Emora's government. The emblem of the four-pointed star of the gods, which was the modest size of a small boat, was perched on top of the building to be admired from anywhere in the city.

Jared looked upon the crowd wondering what little here understood the truth to it. In their rightful duties, the Conclave members were to protect the country by following the ideology and set fourth procedures of the last good king. But that rarely happened, instead, it was used as a tool by the rich and powerful to keep only themselves rich and powerful.

But like all things in Acastor, the appearance of it shinned stunningly, despite its rueful inside happenings. The building was constructed by the last good king himself to be the highest skyscraper in the city. Each corner had a long triangle entrance representing one side of the four-pointed star of the gods. What door one went through was a huge sign of respect and authority as each of the four grandiose entryways was designated for soul use by the position held in Emora's government.

The floor Conclave members, who each held the most power individually, consisted of the four Purveyors of the land. They used the god of darkness entrance. It was the least opened door, therefore the most highly respected to be seen going in and out off.

The ceilings Conclave members, went through the god of creation's door. Their official positions were referred to as the curators. They were in charge of creating the laws of the country and represented the provinces in Emora, all 204 of them. Some of the curators lived in the capital city, and only worked out of the Conclave, while others lived in their provinces to better watch over their people and only came to the capital when forced. 

The higher-ranking military officers went through the god of destruction's door. They rarely made an appearance at the council all at once, but always had one envoy there to make sure the military's wishes were being properly represented and funded.

The god of light's entrance was reserved for the professors of Attwood. Some people only became teachers because as long as they held their position it secured them access to the Conclave meetings. It was a very favorable position because once a teacher your spot couldn't be contested or voted out. It was only over if one retired or was to be relieved of their teaching duties.

The number of teachers that showed up varied with the percentage each professor cared about the topic at hand, but often enough the teacher's vote is what tipped the scales in favor of passing or vetoing laws. Students currently attending Attwood could also attend as long as they had a professors' escort. Jared used to sit in meetings by the offering of his favorite teacher. It had been his budding dream then to join the Conclave, but only in dreams had they remained.

Jared watched now as the door of light opened. Citizens gathered to watch as Attwood's headmistress came out followed closely behind by a professor he'd studied under when he attended the school and what must have been a new higher from the youth on her face. Everyone crowded around goggled their exit like there were catching glimpses of royalty, which in this country was the closest thing they had.

A graduate of Attwood was like becoming kings and queens in the sense of power and prestige it opened. And the students, by that account, were the princes and princesses, and often treated as so.

Lucy got pulled into the crowd's curiosity but couldn't understand what significance those highbrow people had.

Jared tensed. For the teachers to be meeting at the Conclave this close to the start of the new year didn't sit well with him.

"Come, Lucy," Jared said, hauling her through the crowd.

Lucy turned back seeing as the next man came forth. He had black hair. Black hair was unusual enough to see on anyone, with the majority of the world's colors ranging in the lighter spectrum but his handsome face and tall frame snowballed the attention. He walked out just as a king would, with confident easy smiles and waves to his ogling subjects. He even noticed Lucy as she got dragged away. It made a sly smile grace his face.

Lucy lost sight as Jared yanked her away. Because of it, she couldn't see the other black hair boy that followed him out just after. The crowd was even more enthralled by the appearance of the next. They murmured to each other passing whispers of rumors from mouth to ear. The girls in the crowd seemed to get exceptionally excited, and even though he wasn't as handsome as the other man, he radiated an intensively tepid energy that instantly besotted the crowd.

Algernon averted his gaze and only looked up when he noticed his cousin's eyes locked in one direction. He didn't notice anything out of the ordinary except a flash of blonde hair moving against the flow of the crowd. His attention lingered, and when he got a glimpse of the girl through a break in the crowd a sudden chest contraction cut off his breathing.

Solace Brickell peeked down at his younger cousin.

"Come, Algernon," Brickwood said, as he started in the opposite direction of Jared and Lucy. "We have different matters to attend to at the moment."

Algernon didn't listen, too busy twisting his ring about his finger while wondering what about that girl's appearance made his stomach plunge. As if he was seeing a ghost. A very pretty ghost.