Journey of the Son of Ares

Amadeus almost jumped up. But he realized just how delicate the situation was. One hurried movement, one sign of hostility, and it was all over.

Amadeus let the papers be and stood up slowly. The woman gripped the bed curtains tightly but didn't let out a sound.

She wasn't far from his age. A little older. That was good. Amadeus could use that. Or so he thought, but as he stepped closer, holding his eyes gently on the woman, he began to see the human in her. And once he did, the act crumbled. It always did.

She had long blonde hair and light-colored eyes. Amadeus bet she was what people would've called the pinnacle of beauty, however, here she only had a blanket that exposed her soft shoulders as well as large chains around her wrists.

When he made his way to the bed, she shrank away, expression twisting like she was about to cry. Surprisingly, Amadeus couldn't see any physical damage on her. But her mind was another case completely. Amadeus felt like running out, finding Orpheus, and stabbing him to death as he thought about how long she had been kept there. And what would happen when she no longer was wanted? The same that had happened to so many more.

Amadeus crouched as he arrived at the side of the bed and held up a hand as a gesture of peace. The woman had backed up to the other side of the bed, going as far as the chains would allow.

"What's your name?" Amadeus whispered softly and hoped the woman spoke Rykian or Miran.

"W— what?" she asked, half-sobbing.

"Your name," Amadeus repeated calmly. "I'm Amadeus. What's your name?"

"I— Inga. My name is Inga," she said.

Amadeus could see slight relaxation in her shoulders and nodded. He couldn't waste much time here. Orpheus' quarters were a bust. He had to get the information in another way. A slightly more complicated way, but he had experience slithering through obstacles. This was no different.

He just had to get this woman on his side before he left, so she wouldn't alert others of his presence.

"Inga... it's a beautiful name." Amadeus smiled at her. She remained wary, but it was progress. He glanced at her chains and frowned deeply. "You want to leave this place, don't you?" She stayed quiet, probably thinking it was some sort of sick test. "It's fine. You don't have to answer. I'm going to get you out of here. Orpheus won't be around much longer."

"Huh? What will you do?"

"I am going to kill him." A strategic lie.

"You can't." Inga shook her head profusely, afraid to death. "Orpheus is God."

Amadeus' face twitched. "The liveD is God," he snapped a little more loudly than he intended.

Inga was startled. Then she shivered in recognition of the name. "You're—"

"Shhh," Amadeus hushed her, returning to his calm demeanor. "Don't tell anyone you saw me, alright?"

There was silence. Then Inga gave a faint nod. Amadeus gave her an encouraging smile and looked back to make sure everything was in its place before sneaking out again. When he made it to the other side of the door, he took a breath and wiped his forehead.

His time was running out.

He cleared himself and took on the measured gait of a servant once again, beginning to make his way down the stairs.

People were bound to question those who went up. Not as much as those who came down.

He had gotten a fairly good layout of the castle for his purposes, but to most of it, he was blind. Still, he couldn't break the relaxed, confident stride or his illusion routine as he made his way through the foreign halls.

He had expected to find something conclusive in Orpheus' chambers, but he still had alternatives. One thing he knew for sure, he wouldn't leave without the information.

With that thought, he stumbled upon what he searched for and an awkwardness almost overwhelmed him as he stepped inside the neat office where there was a thin woman dressed in a suit with tied-up blonde hair.

"Ehm, excuse me, miss," Amadeus said as he entered.

The woman lifted her sharp eyes with a dangerously inquisitive look. "Yes, what is it?"

She was who Amadeus had gained knowledge about when he asked about Orpheus' secretary. In reality, she was just a servant who happened to be close to Orpheus. Not too close. Orpheus didn't trust anyone enough to let them into his business so thoroughly as a secretary, but that could've been Amadeus' saving grace.

If there was nobody who knew everything about things, he was safer in his impersonation. It was a gamble, but one he was willing to take.

Amadeus shut the door behind him discreetly and approached the desk the woman sat behind. "I don't want to take too much of your time. I am here to volunteer for the decoy missions."

"You're a servant, are you not?" The woman asked, squinting slightly in irritation.

"I am, yes, but it was to my understanding that you are in need of decoy servants as well."

"Those positions are taken."

It was as expected, but Amadeus hoped there was some wiggle room that could allow him his answer. If not, he had made a grave mistake.

"I'm aware, but—"

"Are you not happy with your current occupation?"

"Of course, I am. My—"

The woman leafed through some papers on her desk. "Your number?"

Amadeus felt a rise in his heartbeat and was forced to concentrate on pushing back any physical clues to his mental state. "321." There was a slight whinge in his voice that made him curse inwardly.

The woman raised a brow as he gave Amadeus a glance. There were no records of names or servant numbers with portraits which made the infiltration relatively easy as long as Amadeus didn't interact with people the servant interacted with often.

However, there was no telling if the woman still recognized him. The wait was agonizing. And it lasted. Oh, it lasted.

Amadeus's vision grew blurry as he started to panic inside and think up visualizations of how he could get out, all ending with a hole in his chest or his head rolling on the ground.

But then the woman spoke and he felt salvation. "You were saying?"

Amadeus took a second to recover and remember his ploy. "Ah, yes, I wanted to offer myself as a backup for the decoy servants. For example if one of them falls ill."

"Is that so?" She really didn't care at all. Good. "Why?"

"To further my career. I'm ready to take on more responsibility. So is it possible? Please, I beg of you."

The woman tilted her head in boredom, but Amadeus had appealed to her. After having spent some time on the matter, she had no reason to refuse. "I suppose."

"Thank you, miss. Thank you so much." Amadeus bowed fervently. And then he went for it. "Would you tell me when the next decoy mission is so that I'll be ready?"

Amadeus watched the woman closely from under his thankful eyes. But then his act shattered from just words in the hallway. He didn't even process them properly before the shivers ran down his spine. Despite his best efforts his mouth opened and his jaw trembled. His breath was caught and he felt like he was choking.

'Not now. Not here!' Amadeus panicked.

The woman's eyes were on him. He was so close! But it didn't matter as he was reduced to a fearful child once again. The situation he had simulated so many times and lived through with his refined skills showed itself and crumbled him.

"The Son of Ares? Pure conjecture if you ask me," he said. It was him. Amadeus could never forget that voice. That damned, slimy voice.

"From what I've gathered," another voice said. The voice was unnaturally grim even as it was muffled by the door between Amadeus and it.

"Hah, are you sure you haven't lost your edge, Uzbec?"

Amadeus turned. 'Uzbec?! He's... here? How? Why?' He tried to move, but his legs felt like they had sunk into the floor.

The voices were getting closer. Coming toward the office Amadeus was in. He would've said it was just his imagination, but the woman was expecting them as well.

"Well, I'll meet with the king on the 12th day of this moon. If this business is international, he'll be forced to play a hand in it," he talked again as Uzbec remained silent.

The information Amadeus sought fell into his lap, but before he could feel his emotions rise, they crashed. With a sound that seemed to Amadeus like the collapse of a castle, the door opened and two men walked in.

Amadeus grew numb as he realized after all these years, Orpheus still towered over him. He wanted to run, but a glance from Uzbec's black and animalistic eyes froze him. His appearance seemed to have been fed by the horrible legend that enveloped his name. He looked like a young and old man simultaneously while possessing an air akin to that of an undead.

But despite all that, Amadeus couldn't take his eyes off Orpheus' chiseled face as he looked down and cocked his head. "What's this now?"