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With a heavy heart, he left the council chamber and made his way through the dimly lit corridors, the weight of his role as mayor and the council’s expectations pressing down on him. As the door closed behind him, the scent of incense still lingered, a reminder of the challenges that lay ahead.
Blaine stepped out of the council building, the cool evening air a welcome respite from the stifling atmosphere within. As he made his way toward his car, he couldn’t help but ponder the state of the council and the city. He realized that the corruption Erin had spoken of was more pervasive than he had initially believed. The council’s petty squabbles and power plays now seemed more threatening to destabilize the delicate balance that he had worked so hard to maintain.
When he reached his vehicle, Jake, his loyal butler, stood before him with a concerned expression as he held the door open. “Sir, are you alright? You seem troubled.”
Blaine slid into the car and sighed, rubbing his temples. “It’s the council, Jake. I can’t help but wonder if I’ve been too complacent, too blind to the problems right in front of me.”
Jake’s expression softened, and he smiled ruefully before taking a seat behind the wheel. “You’ve done a lot of good for this city, sir. It’s easy to lose sight of the bigger picture when you’re caught up in the day-to-day responsibilities of your position.”
Blaine nodded. “Erin really opened my eyes to what the people are going through. I can’t keep ignoring how much the council takes advantage while folks struggle. Seeing Erin’s fire and dedication lit a spark in me, too. I’ve got to clean up the corruption and help the city’s most vulnerable.”
Jake’s eyes glimmered with determination in the rearview mirror. “I believe in you, sir. You’ve always proven a powerful leader. I have faith you will figure this out.”
As Jake drove, Blaine thought about his new sense of purpose. Erin had ripped off the blinders, showing him how unjust things had become for the citizens he’d sworn to serve. Her spirit awakened his own conscience and duty. He could no longer excuse the council’s greed and neglect. The people deserved better. With Erin at his back, Blaine felt sure he could cut out the rot and put the city on a just path again. The maenad had shifted his perspective, and he refused to waste this chance to cause genuine change.
As Blaine entered his home, his resolve strengthened. He would confront the corruption that festered within the council, no matter the cost. And as he contemplated the future, he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of hope. For amid the chaos and uncertainty, he had found something–someone–worth fighting for.
The night was still young, and the city’s heartbeat thrummed in his ears, a constant reminder of his duty and the challenges that lay ahead. But for now, Blaine took solace in knowing that he was not alone in his struggle. Together, he and Erin might overcome the darkness and bring light to the city that they both loved.
CHAPTER28
ORIAS
Orias and Kobol sat at a table in Blood and Stone, Orias drinking a sour ale while Kobol stuck to his whiskey, neat. For a Sheol establishment, the range of options were varied. Orias had once sampled an ethereal flight of fermented tree saps which had sent his visions into a nonstop hallucinogenic-fueled journey for four nights straight. Now, he stuck to the well-known daemon beer. He had more than enough visions without deliberately kick-starting the process.
The sound of the fighting pits carried as a pair of lizard-skinned siblings fought out their bicker of the day. The assembled crowd goaded them on, filling the establishment with a din of cheers and growls. The air was thick with a mixture of incense, sweat, and smoke from the candles. Or was it drugs?
It was a perfect location for private conversation away from the cabal den. And from Belial, who would never have stepped foot in this place, which he would deem too sordid for the likes of his princely rank.
“What do you think of Nadir’s concerns over the sancre?” Kobol asked, downing his whiskey all at once.
Orias sank back into a golden plush pillow, pressing it against the blackened stone which served as a rough-hewn bench. The gold triggered his memory of those Aurelian-irised eyes from his visions. He stretched his shoulders, trying to shake off the reflexive tension which built every time he thought of those eyes.
“I feel her concerns are warranted, but it’s difficult to judge the full scope of the issue.” Orias sipped at his ale, noticing casually how his ever-present shadows moved just over the surface of his skin. One wisp wrapped itself around his mug, as if sampling the contents before swirling back into the others moving around his hand.
“Belial should have told us of their capabilities before sending us out blind,” Kobol slammed his now empty glass down upon the tabletop, the wood echoing the impact.
The bar owner, a fire-breathing daemon known as Brekesh, raised an eyebrow their way, amber eyes flaring. Orias smiled and tapped the table, asking for a refill. Brekesh nodded and poured another round, but his eyes continued to simmer.
“Belial rarely informs us beforehand of his motives or plans. Wishing for him to change is a fruitless quest,” Orias said.
A slender waiter wearing a transparent, gauzy dress silently drifted over to them and delivered their drinks, sauntering away without uttering a word.
“I’m free to want what I want,” Kobol growled. “However pointless I have learned it to be in themereforty years I’ve served the prince.”
Orias barked out a laugh. “That you are. Yet a more productive inquiry might be to determine how accurate Nadir’s concerns are.”
“You mean figure out how deep the rabbit hole of familial kills goes? What do you propose, lining up ten generations of a cabal and seeing how many of them die in succession?” Kobol’s brows knit as he drew a metaphorical diagram of stick figures on the table in whiskey, and then tapped each one in quick succession.
“It’s an option. I’m surprised Belial himself hasn’t requested. There must be a limit to the scope, or else the moment we first used the sancres, we would have heard of an Arch-daemon or prince mysteriously dying.”
“I suppose you’ve got a point,” Kobol replied.
“As do you. The next time we’re clearing out a large nest, it’ll be wise to pay attention to how the sancre kills ripple through the herd.”
“At some point, our efforts will be noticed, and Belial will risk his plan being exposed.” Kobol sipped his drink, tapping the glass absently.
Orias nodded, shrugging his shoulders. “I feel that time is far off. I suspect Nadir’s issues revolve around her being newly bound to both Belial and the cabal. The other concerns are simply adding insult to the existing fresh injury.”
