Chapter 3
Angeline lets out a weary breath as she pushes open the door of their hotel room, and struts her way across the lavishly-appointed reception space towards the entry into the sleeping-quarters. “Draw me a bath, Samuel… then help me out of this Goddess-forsaken dress…”
“Yes, Mistress.” After closing the door to their suite, the tall companion makes his way to the bathing area via the bedroom, and shuffles to a stop as he pans his gaze around. This hotel was like the others they had stayed at so far; richly furnished, with the latest nineteenth-century designs on full display. The bath-tub in this establishment was slightly different, however, in the fact that it was entirely made out of beautiful new sheet of copper, complete with high sides and a sloping back-rest. Though it wasn’t very long, it certainly made up for that short-coming by rising a full three feet off the floor. It fit well with the rest of the decorum, too, as all the handles and fittings were made of the same, shiny metal…
“Hey… I never got the chance to ask…” the golden-haired caster flops backwards onto the four-post bed, and issues a long, drawn-out sigh up to the white canopy above. “Oooh… a goose-down mattress… uh… what did you find out in the precinct? Were there any sigils carved into the bodies?”
The wiry aide finishes in lighting the oil lamps under the metal basin, then rises to twist a handle set into the wall in order to fill the tub. “None. There were no markings inscribed on the victims themselves… only a small calligraphic symbol on a wall or door nearest to their remains.”
“Hmph… thought so…” reaching her hands up to un-pin her chapeau, the young mage then blindly tosses the head-covering towards the wardrobe at the side of the room. “So it’s not Envy, Greed, Gluttony, or Lust… that only leaves two of the Daemonic corruptions left… Wrath and Pride…”
“Would not Pride be the front-runner, if we are looking for a person under the influence of a spirit?” Samuel moves to lean against the doorframe as he folds his arms across his muscular chest. “The faces of all the victims were left whole… which would speak to the fact that this murderer wanted those people clearly identified…”
“Mmm… true… but I’d be leaning more towards Wrath, considering the state of the bodies…” Angeline issues a low growl as she struggles to strip the tight, elbow-length gloves from her arms. Failing in her attempts, she concedes her loss by thrusting her hand out towards her confidant. “What’s puzzling is that, if there was any influence at all, then there should be more desecration to the corpses. If it was a Wrathful spirit, then the victims would be in tiny little pieces. And if it was a Prideful one, then their un-touched heads would be prominently displayed in the middle of the town square…”
The long-haired companion tosses the pair of gloves towards the hat on the floor, then moves to un-lace his Master’s knee-high boots. “You told me last week that a true Daemon would commit atrocities one after another without repose, correct? What would be the time between acts for an individual merely under the influence of a spirit?”
“It varies… for a number of reasons. Chiefly, the power of the ghost, and beyond that, the amount of control that the host has.” Letting out a soft purr as her left leg is freed from its leather confines, the young caster then gasps in a sudden breath as her consort starts to gently massage her foot. “W-what are you doing?!”
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Aegis and Order: First Light
Fantasy"It’s shoulders were wide and powerful. At four metres in height, it was almost as large across as it was tall. The arms of the hulking beast hung nearly all the way to the ground, and were thick with rope-like muscles that bulged with even the sl...
