Redcat: The Princess of Quietus

Chapter One, A Civil Dispute

        In the village of thieves, formally known as "Penrith", there was a coalition against the king who never paid the slightest bit of attention to Penrith. It was a cadre of individuals that demanded regicide, or at least an usurp. This coalition underwent a civil war between loyalist who believed that they could use their diplomatic acumen to cajole their king, and the others, the Vindicators, who only wish for violence; who only wanted their king's head on a pike.

        "Fie! You filthy traitors dare side with the one who made Penrith the ghetto that it is? You all sicken me! I'm tired of gangsters demanding money, and committing arson! If you rather to have your home reduced to ashes, in lieu of taking actual action, than you are a gasted daw!" The leader of the Vindicators, Grigori Sly, stepped forth, pitch fork in hand, a torch in the other,

        "King Reginald, is a gentle being, and if he pays no attention to Penrith perhaps there is a reason behind that. Perhaps, he is busy? We don't need a sword to take action. Don't we have mouths? Don't we have minds? You obviously are without a mazzard on your shoulders, yes? In fact, your cranium is just a gathering of pork!" The leader of Loyalist, Landan Valencia, retorted with disrespectful abandon. 

        "How dare you!?" Grigori lunged but his darting body was grappled from behind by two interlocking arms that held his imposing physique in position. Grigori jostled with the one who restricted him, his own son, Antonius Sly. 

        "Father, we don't need to fight each other. Why we stand here now, us Vindicators, we stand to murder the one who turned his back on us... on Penrith. Right?" Antonius released his now pacified father with an exasperated sigh.

        "Ah! Yes, I'm fain to see my sirrah (boy/son) speaking with a mazzard full of intellect! You will become a great leader some day, Antonius." Grigori faced his son with a broad smile, and then planted both his palms on his son's shoulders. 

        "Well, while you pork fiends hone your bodkin (sword), I shall be preparing a series of tectrix and ink to write a document for the king." Landan walked past his men who were situated behind him, he faded into the crowd, and soon the crowd itself would collapse and follow behind their leader.

        Antonius walked with his father and other Vindicators, glancing over his shoulder to watch the Loyalist shrinking into the horizon. He faced ahead of himself, and allowed his legs to carry his body whilst he slipped into an oblivion. 

Father is procrastinating. Bothering himself with those damned Loyalist. Must I take the helm? Must I be the one to take the King's head myself? Nay, I can't betray my father. I will be patient. For now, at least. 

        Antonius awakened from his reverie, and collided with a demure boy who seemed of his age. The collision sent both of the boys onto the earth with a dull thud. 

        "H-Hey! What is your problem, brach!?" Antonius jolted forward to grip the collar of the fallen boy, and he would fluidly move in tandem with a brick-wall. When reaching the corner he would slam the boy against the alley wall.

        The boy reciprocated the assault in a calm bearing, his hazel eyes boring into Antonius' soul. "Unhand my collar, Vindicator."  The boy reached up to slap Antonius' hand away, which he did succeed in doing. 

        "Now, it appears we have met in a quite rude way, so as a Loyalist― a calm-headed Loyalist, I will accost you with the warmth of my hand and indulge you with trivial facts about myself. I am the son of Landan Valencia. My sobriquet is Lucioneese, but you may call me Lucion. Now, what is your information, Vindicator?" The boy grabbed Antonius' hand and shook it with the utmost amount of delicacy.

        Antonious blinked several times, before responding to Lucion. "M-My name is Antonious Sly. The sirrah of Grigori Sly. You have quite the.. Erma.. how do I say this.. 'idiosyncratic' vernacular. I sorta' struggled to understand you." Antonius looked in the opposite direction with one hand behind his head.

        "Ah! You appear to be sweating, Antonius. Perhaps, as an apology I can treat you to a beverage." Lucion stared at the obviously embarrassed Antonius.

        "Sure, I know a great--" Antonius was cut off by a baritone explosion off in the distance, a billowing mass of thick ash eddied into the atmosphere making a black palpable sky. Arisen from the darkened acreage was a maelstrom of flames that engulfed the distant vicinity.

        "Hey... That's where the Vindicators den is located! What's going on!?"  Antonius darted away from Lucion, dust soaring into the air with each step he took. Oh God.. Why? What is this!?