The Votarist | bl | black butler

17: The Votarist, Game

Original Chapters: 45
17: The Votarist, Game

"But I would like to remind the young master that Mister Lau almost choking you to death is not my fault."

The young earl flushed red in embarrassment, refusing to see Ravi's teasing smile.

Fine, he simply vented his anger on this fool because he didn't want to end the game too early.

"Where did you put Charles Grey?"

"Oh, he's with Sir Sebastian."

"..."

"In the same bed since I only have one in my room."

"..."

.

.

.

.

"Young Ravi," an aged voice called from the other side of the worn-out steel door. "Have you decided on what to do?"

A young child dressed in rags, ankles bounded by a pair of rusted shackles, paused. He was in the middle of stargazing through the iron bars stopping him from climbing out of this room. When he turned his head, the chain connecting the rusted iron collar around his neck echoed in the room.

The silver light entering the room touched the child's eyes, making them glow on this silent night.

"Yes," his young, crisp voice seemed to ring in the old man's ears. "Tonight, I shall die."

As if the sky heard him, clouds rolled in and lightning crawled in the sky. A loud, roaring thunder struck in the hearts of the people.

His lips curved, eyes turning into crescents, and his whole being seemed to radiate with joy. "And tomorrow, I shall pave the way to the lands of bliss."

And the heavens cried.

.

.

That night is similar to the night of many centuries ago.

When the heavens cried as a young child decides to take on all the sins of his people.

The first human sacrifice in history has been made.

Ravi Sinclaire stands on the roof of the manor, smiling as he lets the rain hit his skin. It reminds him of the time when his people indulged themselves in sins, forgetting their duties in the temple. It reminds him of the days he spent in the Tower, watching his people waste every day with acts of wickedness.

Thunder once again roars in the sky, making the air tremble and people's hearts quiver. "Tonight—" his voice resembles the chime of bells, like the scorching thunder that makes one shudder. "—a forgettable yet memorable echo shall embed itself in the hearts of sinful humans. A remembrance that shall be fleeting yet everlasting.

"A game that shall haunt them to their graves, has commenced in this starless night."

Lightning flashed in the sky.

—Ciel Phantomhive glances out the window, eyebrows furrowed as he taps the desk. "That fool's really into this roleplaying game, isn't he?" It makes him wonder why, but he is not that interested to persist in asking. "When is he coming back? I'm still waiting for that dessert he's been boasting about."

.

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Arthur awakes to the sound of bells chiming in the distance.

"My head," a hand reaches to caress his throbbing temple. "What happened...?" As he recalls the last memory before he fainted, Arthur takes his time to look around. He appears to be in the middle of the hall in the Phantomhive Manor. The sconces are lit, slightly illuminating the long, long corridor.