Of Gods and Monsters

Dei Gratia Rex

"What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us."

-Emerson

Lukas, by me.

Lukas showed Elek to a regal and expensive looking hotel. Elek was pleased with this. After all, why not spend Ambrus's money on luxury? Of course, it'd only be until he could procure a permanent residence for himself later. But, he could spare the change for a few days. Lukas looked pleased by Elek's reaction. It seemed from the short amount of time that he'd known the boy, he was definitely a people pleaser. However, it didn't stem from superiority or desperation, but from a need to help people.

To Elek it seemed that Lukas's devoutness spread itself throughout every aspect of his life, not simply the time he probably spent in church, or bent over a bible. At the very least, although he didn't understand it, he could respect it. Any notion of God for Elek had gone out the window as soon as his heart had stopped beating. Even if He did exist, he certainly wouldn't be accepted with open arms, would he? It was best to be a non-believer. A quiet non-believer. They reached the reception desk and Elek paused as Lukas turned to face him properly.

"I suppose this will be goodbye, for now."

He said sheepishly, looking down at his nicely polished shoes. Elek smiled.

"I'll be available tomorrow night. If you're not terribly busy, I'd love to stop by Burgtheater, perhaps get an in-depth tour? If it's not too much trouble, that is."

Lukas perked up noticeably. He reminded Elek of a puppy. Lukas nodded his approval.

"Certainly. I'd love to give you a tour, backstage."

Elek smiled again, offering him his outstretched palm. Lukas shook his hand heartily.

"So it shall be. I'll see you tomorrow night, my friend."

With that, Lukas seemed satisfied, and left Elek alone. He turned on his heels, feeling slightly better about the whole ordeal. The pain of losing Ambrus was certainly there, always. Like a wound that just wouldn't heal, leaving him permanently sore. However, Luka's presence seemed to ease it. Even now, as Lukas left him, he felt the prick of the betrayal begin to rear its ugly head again. He swallowed hard, forcing it down, walking up to the desk. Another day he'd have to spend with his own thoughts. He dreaded it. The receptionist noticed him, and smiled sweetly.

"Guten abend, der Herr. Welcome to The White Rose Hotel."

---

Lukas left The White Rose feeling quite pleased with himself. He'd never met someone so incredibly alluring as Elek before. He was aristocratic, certainly. It was plainly obvious. He carried himself too well, spoke too well, his manners impeccable. It eased Lukas to be around him. He himself came from a family of the same class, but he'd chosen the path of the monastery instead of nobility. Well, he should say, he had once chosen the path of the monastery. The thought angered him, as he remembered.

Lukas had first joined in a precursory fashion. He'd been able to study and shadow the other monks in the monastery, at his parent's behest, before he actually joined. He'd quickly realized that all was not as it seemed. The monks weren't as devout as he had imagined. A lot of them were pranksters, sitting in their supposed meditation period, where they were supposed to be reading their bibles and studying God's message. However, instead, they drew lewd and nearly blasphemous images in the margins. A lot of them for some reason, featuring Satan's.... lower regions, up close and personal.

Not only this, but their contributions to the public were minimal. Even worse yet, they had laughed at Lukas when he'd asked them out the ways they actively fight Satan. He'd learned about the various demons that certainly lurked the earth, and longed to protect the innocents from them. He'd falsely believed that was what the monks chiefly did. He remembered his first encounter with one, a demon, in the flesh.

When he was a mere child, he'd been playing too late, and too far away from home. He'd nervously walked the dreary and dark alleys of Vienna, fearing that cutthroats would attempt to mug him. For, he was always impeccably dressed, as a son of a friend of the crown. He'd cursed himself for his indiscretion. But, it wasn't a cut-throat that approached him, but something else entirely. Something Lukas would've never imagined. He'd been creeping in the shadows and Lukas hadn't noticed him until he was directly in his pathway.

Lukas had screamed from the fright of the sudden movement, and the man had done nothing but smiled. A smile that had nearly stopped his heart. A fanged, red-eyed smile. Sickly pale and taunt skin was exposed by a nearby lamp. And as the figure stepped directly into it, Lukas had recoiled even more. His body was contorted into a hideous shape, like he suffered from some sort of bone mutation.

As he approached, Lukas had been frozen in sheer fear, being only a mere boy. However, his guardian angel had appeared. A man by the name of Abraham had saved him the creature. He was an older fellow, bearded, and scruffy. He'd reminded Lukas of what he'd imagined a pirate to look like. He'd pulled out a pistol, silver, with a latin insignia on the side. In his hands, he had wound a silver cross necklace. In one single shot, the man named Abraham hit his mark, shooting the creature dead center in the heart. It screamed hideously, doubling over, before melting away into a dark red puddle. The puddle had bubbled into black before dissipating into a hazy black smoke.

The man had patted a crying and scared Lukas on the head. Too scared to go home, the man had given him the pretty silver cross, telling him he'd be able to get home safely if God was watching over him. And to this day, Lukas had never taken it off.

Lukas had quickly become unsatisfied by the monk's idiocy, after nearly a month of their antics. They didn't believe his tale, or that these demons even existed. Then he'd had a genius idea. He wanted to be free of his parents, the life of a noble didn't suit someone like him. He was too soft; he'd learned pretty quickly. And he had no desire to live a frivolous existence. So, instead, he'd take up something gentile. He'd become a professional Violinist at a renowned theater by day and evening, and in the dead of night, he'd protect his people and hunt down these evil creatures. As his guardian angel had done before him.

After the incident, Lukas had sought the man outright. He'd deliberately set himself up as bait, tracking one of those creatures, those demons, down himself.  Unable to kill it himself with a silver sword he'd stolen from his father's armory, Abraham had come. As Lukas would learn he always would.

Lukas clutched the silver pistol from instead of his waistcoat, tracing the etchings written in latin with his fingers. He knew the insignia well, so well, he could read it by memory now. Dei Gratia Rex. By The Grace of God. As he rubbed it with his hand, he turned the shadowy corners of Vienna back to his makeshift home at the theater, a smile on his face. He'd made a friend. 

He couldn't wait to see Elek again tomorrow night.