Prelude (Underworld Lucian Fanfiction)

2 - Chapter II: The Goods

"Come with me..."

Hunger in the vampire's voice. Half-stooped, he fled across the room, beckoning for them to follow down a long hallway. Pillars flanking the opening with a pair of stone angels peering at them from above. The ceiling was curved, the stone floor marginally sloped. The old frescoes faded with the faces of holy men and women peeling away with time.

Arms behind his back, Lucian strode after the vampire, keeping him in sight, the shadow of Raze following behind him. As always, he drank in his surroundings, survival instincts giving him the propensity to search for exits and guarded shelter. The relentless thirst for history placing everything in perspective.

Through his eyes, the pillars became cover, the angels useful for crushing enemies. The warped stone foundations were collapsible, and degraded frescoes could be broken through. A part of him wanted to look upon the angels a moment longer.

Only a moment...

He passed beneath them without breaking his stride. He had no time for their devotion. The righteous guardianship they held over this monastery. Unlike the frescoed architecture behind, the walls here were not so impressive.

Empty rooms on either side, suggesting that once, the monastery had been occupied by many. Benches within every alcove and more books piled underneath and above. Cobwebs and dust betrayed the years since these rooms had been entered. The years since anyone had last swept the floors.

At the end of the hall, Tanis halted, his rigid shoulders stooping even further, his scent growing in leaps and bounds. Agitation and fear. The expression on his face was a mixture of frustration and cunning, his greenish-yellow eyes darting along a small door as if considering the best method for turning the handle.

A few feet away, Lucian only had eyes for the lock. Rusty along the edges, it had not been there the last time he visited the monastery. Never one to hold back from his own inquisitiveness, he stepped around the vampire and tried the handle.

Locked.

He looked at Tanis.

"Open it."

The vampire nodded, reaching a shaky hand into his robes and drawing out a set of mangled, iron keys. Twice, they slipped, but twice, he snatched them before they could hit the ground. This was the product of exile, when even the dusty floor became a thief waiting in the dark.

For the sake of business and very little else, Lucian took a step back, giving the man some space. Killing aside, he was aware that one had to show a measure of tolerance when trading. Tolerance which did not extend to the other trader's life. Or his eyes.

Perhaps his thoughts showed upon his face...

For Tanis, looking up, suddenly backed against the door as though he had just seen new reason to turning tail and running. He opened his mouth and then shut it again. Swallowing, he turned around, splaying the keys across his palm, searching for the right one.

Searching.

There were only six keys on the ring, yet he examined each one thoroughly, rattling it long and well in the lock before moving on. When they came to the last, he hesitated, licking his lips. Slow, he held the key up in the shadows and then even slower, placed it in the rusty lock.

Lucian remained silent, folding his arms and waiting for the man to turn the key. He was almost intrigued by this impressive display of dawdling. Not many people could take five minutes to open a door. There was something very personal behind it. Something Tanis desperately did not want him to see.