The Lordly Ones

-Where'd You Go?

The rain was steadily tapping on the paving stones outside the old warehouse. The streets were clean of people. It was like a landscape painting, but one where the artist only had his grey and dark tones left, aside from the clear white of the moon. Slowly the wind bit through the air as it tossed down the alleyways. It was going to be a cold night.

Drawing back the make-shift curtain, which looked surprisingly like a shirt, Darcey once again argued with herself in her head. It had been surprisingly easy to fight off her friends questions with the help of Lucas. He had been smart enough to figure out what the men wanted to talk about, but Darcey guessed that he had no idea of what she was planning.

He can't get that far inside my head.

Turning back to walk back to the warm red fire that Jeremiah had made, Darcey smiled. At least they were going to be safe. Once she sat down Jeremiah promptly parted from the in-depth discussion with Lyra that he was having and returned to the topic at hand.

"Now as I was sayin', I need to sort you guys out," he told us, trying not to smile whenever he looked towards Lyra, "In short, you all stick out like sore thumbs."

At this Lyra brightened up, turning his straight face into a smile. "So, like a makeover?" she asked.

At his nod Viola and Lyra grinned and immediately dove into the pile of clothing that he had gotten as his 'supplies'. In contrast the boys groaned and Lucas opened up a book. Here Darcey was the middle man, she felt too low to be happy. 

Jeremiah, after tearing his eyes away from the bright spark that was Lyra, he grabbed Darcey's arm and toke her up a ladder to another floor to sit her down. As soon as they were alone his demeanour changed and he held her arms tightly and glared into her eyes, "Why aren't you gone? Why didn't they take you?" he hissed.

Not to be out done, at first Darcey just glared back until she realised something.

"You told them where I was didn't you! That little trip took way too long for some borrowed clothing and boots!" she hissed back with the expression like she had just been slapped.

"That doesn't matter! You're putting them in danger. It's best for you to leave," he told her with a stony face.

"I saved them. I did it to save them! What's wrong with that?" she asked, her voice threatening to break. She knew she sounded selfish and terrible, like those uptight girls in the books she read but she didn't care. He had that effect on her.

"Have you ever believed in God? You're something that defies him. You've aligned yourself with hell itself. You will never be happy," he stated with slight pity in his eyes as his hand reached into his shirt and held what Darcey could only assume was a cross.

"I still do! Look!" she scrambled inside her shirt for her old Mexican key. It had a cross on one side and a...bishop? on the other. Whatever it was she loved it and she had more faith in God than almost all the people in her class. She wasn't frightened to debate it. However, when she reach for it the skin around it was wet and strange. She had to almost tear at the necklace to pull it from her skin. It came away with a sickening slurpy sound and when she took the clasp off and looked closer, she felt sick. The back, where the cross was, was bright red with the superficial colour that blood had. She knew it would be bad but when she looked down towards where it had familiarly placed itself, right where her vest top had half hidden it, her head spun. Her blood was morphed, branded with the small cross as big as a small circle. Luckily the the part of the key itself had not gotten as far as branding her yet. Slowly a dull burning pain began to hurt her hand and she threw the necklace to the wall of the room.

What's happening?

You're a being shunned by light. It's no big deal.