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greybat · 7 years

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Death Turns Their Back

Chapter 1: The Necropolis

Alternative name: BLASTED PANTS

Summary: It's the night of the Masquerade and Xixa can't get the hanged man out of her mind. It doesn't feel like a time to celebrate to her. Wearing her costume, she decides to head toward the Necropolis, to see his corpse.However, it truly seems Death has turned their back on Julian.

Ao3 Link - Chapter 1 has no sexual content. Future chapters will be mature for smut.

Lights burned all throughout Vesuvia. The excitement of the Masquerade infected every street, every alleyway. People rushed down the cobbles and dirt, dressed as ornamented interpretations of animals with heavy clouds of perfume and cologne trailing them. Singing wheedled out of the taverns, giggles heard down every dank alley. Cheer seemed to have envelope the city and everyone in it.

To Xixa, it felt as if she were the only one caught in the throes of grief as she quietly made her way through the streets. From the corner of her eye, the palace caught her attention. Brightly illuminated with lights, regal, majestic… In those walls, Portia worked – probably keeping the other servants to a timetable – and stifled back her tears. Intuition pulled the scene out, slapping it over Xixa’s thoughts.

No, Xixa wasn’t only one grieving. Portia had lost a great deal more and continued pushing forward. Xixa turned away from the palace, ducking her head shamefully. The handmaiden couldn’t take a reprieve the night of the Masquerade. Countess Nadia still didn’t know Julian was… had been her brother.

The apprentice wasn’t obligated to go to the damned party, though. Not that there wasn’t the definite expectation.

In fact, it hadn’t been until the last possible moment she decided otherwise. Too many times, she broke down into chest heaving sobs when donning the teal and gold gown. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Julian at the gallows. Oh, how he struggled, swinging on that rope, gasping for… Xixa savagely shook her head. She didn’t want to remember how long he dangled there, struggling. Watching it happen was one time too many.

She had donned the inane butterfly mask and, though her mind had thought to set out for the palace, her feet headed toward the Necropolis. On the opposite side of the city, on the outskirts, gave her plenty of time to walk and mull over her plan to get inside. People eyed her garments as she passed. A few tittered that the party was the other way. Xixa ignored them all. She had to steel herself for what she was going to see.

xxx

The Necropolis crouched in darkness, the lights of the city and the merrymaking not making it to this distant place. Xixa paused before the building, a chill licking up her neck. Made of black stone, decorated with ornate carvings and pillars, it was a pantheon to Death. Here, even the weakest of spirits could break through the veil and make contact. The touch of ghosts, of spirits, of oblivion filled the air, making her stomach clench. Goosebumps ran up Xixa’s arms. So many cold fingers and hands reached out for her.

She slammed down the shutters in her mind. Her goosebumps abated as the balmy night bundled around her. The ghosts were put at bay, but there were other dangers to consider.

Treating corpses like merchandise happened at the Necropolis. It wasn’t a well-kept secret, but Xixa doubted the courtiers and Countess Nadia thought of the black market for body parts. Well… until one of their own became involved. Organs, skin, hair, even bones were used in a wide variety of magic, especially the less palatable sort. But, it was practiced. Not to mention she heard surgeons often bought corpses – even if they were in pieces – for their apprentices to practice on.

Trudging toward the daunting doors, Xixa cobbled together an excuse to feed the corpse attendant. If she was lucky, they were at the Masquerade with everyone else.

As she pushed the heavy door, crossing the threshold from humid night to chilly indoors, a voice called out. “G’evening, lass! What’re you doin’ here when there’s a party going on!”

It seemed her luck had run out for the evening.

Xixa blinked, her eyes adjusting to the… was this a foyer? Lamps lined the walls, basking the entry area in a pleasant glow, despite the brisk ambiance. A table near the door housed a vase with a decadent bouquet. Rather plush and plump red chairs and couches spaced about the area, contrasting against the white marble floors.

Her eyes finally caught on the person behind the large, black front desk. Their skin a rich brown, with stark ice-blue gaze, seemed just as out of place as the rest of the foyer. Their dark bronze curls spilled out from their hat, which had a calligraphic ‘N’ emblazoned on it in silver.

Brushing aside her shock at the inviting atmosphere, Xixa steeled herself. Squaring her shoulders as she approached the desk with determination. She raised her chin and said as authoritatively as she could, “I’m here to see Dr. Devorak’s corpse.”

The attendant raised an eyebrow, blue eyes dipping down and up Xixa’s body. Under her cloak, the dress peeked out and the mask had settled awkwardly on her face. Obviously, her manner of dress seemed a little out-of-place. “Why would you want to see such a nasty creature?”

The apprentice barely stifled her affronted growl. Instead, she offered up a tight smile to the attendant. “I just came from the Masquerade. The Countess requested I verify Ju- Dr. Devorak’s continued demise. Can’t be too careful, can we?”

At the mention of Nadia, the attendant’s eyes widened. They jumped off their seat, nodding their head. Wouldn’t want to be the hiccup in the Countess’s request, now would we? “Follow me.”

They pushed aside a curtain, which hid a long stretch of sterile white hallway and black doors. Plain black lanterns hung from the ceiling, burning their midnight oil. After the attendant ducked forward, Xixa followed. A blast of cold air churned down the hallway, biting through her clothes.

“Sorry for the chill,” the attendant threw an apologetic smile over their shoulder. “Corpses rot unless kept very cold.”

Her stomach crawled with anxiety. In an attempt to ignore her discomfort, she read the silver plaques on each door: Asphyxiation, Stabbing, Dismemberment, Poison, Decapitation…

“We haven’t had a corpse from a public hanging in awhile,” the attendant chattered. They seemed completely at unaffected inside the Necropolis, despite the fact they were surrounded by dead bodies. And, probably unknown to them, spirits. To a point, Xixa envied them. “Ah, here we are.”

The door they stopped in front of had a plaque that read: Public Executions.

“Fun fact: Magic discerns the difference between regular death and those put to death for crimes! Asphyxiation has its own area, I’m sure you saw it.” The attendant flashed Xixa a bright smile as they flipped through a keyring. All the keys were black, with silver numbers painted on them. “Who’d’ve thunk magic was so particular, right?”

Xixa already knew this, though she didn’t often think of it. Many magic users – grey to black magic, mostly – needed the Toe Of A Hanged Man or Nose Of A Dead Man. There were substitutions, of course, but there were rather strict ‘traditionalists.’ The attendant looked at her with such earnestness, though, Xixa couldn’t help an insincere smile and polite, “Interesting.”

Finally, the attendant found the key. They jammed it into the keyhole, the tumbler clicking after a turn. They slowly pushed the door open. Xixa held her breath, pulling her mental shutters closer. She had to be prepared for what she saw inside. The corpse, laying on a slab? The decency of a white sheet? Had they already done an autopsy? Or cut him into pieces for greater profit?

The door jerked the rest of the way, the attendant’s eyes widening as the doorknob slipped from their hand. From the innards of the frigid dark of the room, a voice burst forth. “You l-l-let me keep m-my eye p-p-patch, but you take m-my blasted pants?!”

Julian Devorak stepped forward, a pale shining beacon in the cooler. A completely nude and shivering beacon. Xixa’s hands flew to her mouth, a gasp slipping from between her fingers. Ice crystals peppered his hair and hung from his eyelashes. The flush of cold bit over his body and his lips harbored a blue hue. A faint bruise around his neck seemed to be the sole remnant of his time at the gallows. And that injury was fading fast. Beside her, the attendant crumpled to the floor.

“Oh!” Xixa’s head snapped to the fainted attendant. She swept down, fingers checking their head for a wound. Other than a particularly nasty knot, she wagered they’d be fine.

Across the attendant’s body, Julian knelt. His practiced hands worked along their scalp, wincing slightly as the glow on his throat transferred whatever problems he found. His eye came up, finally catching Xixa’s masked face.

“I s-suppose I s-should be flattered,” Julian’s bitter smile, well-known to Xixa, crossed his lips. The stutter of cold still afflicted his words. Judging by the lilt of his tone, the apprentice realized hadn’t recognize her. “Y-you w-wanted to see the d-dead murderer instead of s-s-staying at the party.”

“Something like that,” she whispered, eyes trailing over his face. Disbelief still coiled around her thoughts. There was no way this was happening. Maybe she was dreaming? The nudity definitely seemed like dream material.

Julian’s eye widened, realization finally sinking in. Softly, he gasped, “X-Xixa?”

Tears burned at the back of her eyes, the word settling into her brain. She didn’t think she’d hear his voice say her name, ever again. A shift from the unconscious attendant quickly drew Xixa away from her thoughts. Her eyes flickered up and down the hallway. She and Julian had to get out of the Necropolis.

Skirting around the attendant’s prone body, Xixa draped her cloak around Julian’s nude form. As she reached up to remove her mask, Julian stood, confusion dotting his expression. “What a-are y-you doing?”

“We’ve got to get you out of here.” It was matter-of-fact, obvious. Finally free of her mask, she pressed it toward him. Her gaze flickered down his body, thankful her cloak reached his knees. “You can’t walk out of here buck naked and with your face unobstructed.”

“Well, I c-could,” Julian grinned, eyebrows arching as if he enjoyed the prospect of streaking through Vesuvia. He donned the mask, regardless. “But, I’m n-not eager for another trip to the g-gallows.”

Xixa tensed at the mention of his previous fate. Instead of dwelling, she grabbed his hand – trying to ignore how cold it was – and began to guide Julian through the halls of the Necropolis. The doctor squeezed her hand and, she thought, she heard him sniffle. A swarm of emotions warred in her and she was certain a good deal of them were incited by Julian.

“We’ll have a moment when I get you somewhere safe.” She rubbed her thumb over his knuckles, just as they made it to the foyer curtain. Julian replied with a half-choked sob.

#the arcana game #thearcanagame #julian devorak #julian devorak x mc #julian devorak x xixa #xixa #my writing #I'M SERIOUS GUYS THE NEXT CHAPTER(S) WILL BE SUPER SMUTTY #I LITERALLY HAVE 6.5 PAGES OF SMUT #imsorry?

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