Redcat: The Princess of Quietus

Chapter Two, Samsara

        It has been two whole years since the incident that demolished the faction known as the "Vindicators". Even to this very day the explosion that took down every last Vindicator is still controversial. "How did it happen? Who did it?" Tension arisen and people accused the Loyalist, but there was no evidence to support the theory, ergo the notion died.

        There was a single survivor of the Vindicators, son of the very leader of the Vindicators, Antonius Sly. Antonius, however, had vanished during the two years, and the Loyalist have yet to coax their king with a thousand of letters. Until one fateful day.

        "Sir, sir! Th-the king! He has responded! He declared that he shall dub you as the Baron of Penrith. I-I can't believe it sir!" A frantic individual pranced about with a golden parchment in hand.

        "Ah.. Yes, yes. At last I have succeeded. I suppose this calls for a gala, welcoming Penrith's new sovereign, and celebrating victory against all who tried to slain the king." A flaxen haired lad reposed aloft purple upholstery, and raised his golden scepter to the ceiling which was still quite the ways away from the crest of his gleaming crook. 

        Father, I have fulfilled your desires! I will convert Penrith for you.  

        "Your father would be proud, Lucion. Even without his help you managed to convince the King at last, and now you're even a baron!" The servant praised this leader of the Loyalist, and now Baron of Penrith, Lucion Valencia. Son of the previous, and fallen leader of the Loyalist. Over the time that passed, his father passed away of a violent illness.

        "Indeed." Lucion tried to maintain his solemn demeanor but couldn't quell a single tear, nor refuse to give his lips a curl. A broad smile was born, and a single bead of liquid pride would collide with his thigh. 

        In the evening, a feast was already prepared in the pristine province of Penrith. There were marble masonry, and marble floors that glowed intensely. The radiance of the environment felt as though you were in the supernal lands of the after-life. 

        Lucion greeted his guest formally in lieu of his partner, Darius, who handled the dining, scheduling, and decor. Elsewhere, shadows dashed about the rooftops, and roamed in the sewers through gunge and water.

        "Infiltration point captured. Flare may be activated." A peculiar man dressed in moss green apparels spoke into a can which was bound by unusual filamentous lines that was spread about the sewer, through a sluice and to a small setup where another man dressed in the same fashion waited.

        "Right." The second man near the exit of the sewer unsheathed a baton of propellant from his mantle. He used flint and steel to strike the butt of the baton and from the portal of the tube came a soaring orb of orange light into the night sky. The noise of the explosion was muffled by the rags that enveloped the shaft of the apparatus.

        In another vicinity a man with magnifying eye-wear studied the flying rock and suddenly sprang from his hunkered position atop a roof. This licorice dressed man rolled over the cusp, gripping on to it, so that he would remain suspended in air, and when he was mentally prepared, he would drop down onto the balcony beneath him. Torn upholstery and rags were littered on the balcony as if to preemptively stop any bystander from hearing the man when he landed.

        The man took a thin metal rod out his cloak and pried into the lock mechanism of the window that hindered him from making his entrance. Within seconds, the bolt of the mechanism would crack loudly and crash onto a mound of cloth. He slithered into the window, which placed him in a small bathroom. 

        "Time to get to work." The man began to tinker with the porcelain latrine, using an awkward siphoning device to reduce the amount of water inside the bowl. He took several canteens from the insides of his cloak and dumped all of its contents inside. "Astrolite deployed. Time to vanish."

        The man vaulted out the window closing it in unison with his jolt. The threshold of the window would be sealed, and the curtains on the other side would flop into position, concealing where the lock mechanism had been shattered. The man whipped out a baton and struck it with flint and steel causing an orb to soar into the sky, this one of red hue.

        In the sewers, the moss green outfitted man would finish a contraption leading through several piping junctions. The entire nexus was rigged with explosives, and the appliance he crafted would ignite every last tube and send someone's bathroom into space. 

        Meanwhile the feast had already been put in motion, every Loyalist was there, preparing to clash receptacles of wine to celebrate their hard-won "victory". "I wouldn't be here... No, we wouldn't be here without the founder of our faction, my father, Landan Valencia! Cheers!"

        There was an ulterior motive inside the brain of a supposed Loyalist however. This loyalist was working as kitchen staff and prepared a special beverage for his "Leader". The loyalist eagerly watched as his leader consumed his drink which was poisoned with powerful laxatives, or so he thought. The leader didn't enjoy wine, and instead traded his receptacle with his partner, Darius Basin. 

        Later on, Darius stood from his seat and whispered into Lucion's ear before departing from the feast. "Sir, I am having some guttural conflicts. Do you mind if I briefly step out?" Lucion chuckled whilst patting Darius' shoulder. "Of course, just don't clog the latrine."

        Darius opened the door of the bathroom which triggered a series of events, involving a chime and strings. The ringing signaled to the man waiting on the balcony that the next baton must be launched. Meanwhile, Darius disregarded the ringing as just a part of silly decor that another servant must've prepared.

        The man outside the bathroom launched the baton, and this time a blue flare would soar through the night sky. Knowing what would happen next, the man then dived off the balcony and into a wagon of bushels. From there the man waiting outside the sluice would contact the man inside the sewers who was ready to ignite the piping. "Light em' up, buddy."

        The zealous man inside the sewers would strike a rod of compressed gunpowder and lob it into a hole on the side of the contraption he created. He tossed the hatch of the hole downwards, and soon a multitude of explosions would quake the sewers. Piping would creak and burst, liberating scorched fecal matter, wild conflagrations, and the roasted innards of pest. Beneath Darius' rumpus, heat would be emitted, the floor would rattle violently, and the entire environment would be destroyed in only mere seconds. Every last tile was ripped off the flooring, and from it climbed out a billowing fire that consumed Darius' body.

        The double-agent Loyalist sprung up and shouted "NO!" for he knew that the plan had been ruined, but also to save his own keister from being grilled. He dashed towards the door, whilst the rest of the guest panicked by the chain of explosions that ravaged the building. It rained furniture, plaster, and chunks of marble. Many Loyalist would succumb to the explosions, and only a few would escape, including Lucion himself.

        "WHY!?" Lucion cried, standing with his surviving men, in front of the engulfed dining hall. Fluctuating waves of flames roared, and the remnant structure would cave deeper into the blaze. A whistling arrow just narrowly missing Lucion's head would smite the earth, with a sheet of paper wrapped around it. Lucion retrieved the parchment and read it. It was roughly written with red ink, and said:

               "So, you thought the war was over? Samsara.  Antonius Sly."