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<To Celia's Looking Glass chapter 3
Mr. Daughslat stared irritatedly at the dark black clouds that had obscured the window with which they were watching the confrontation between the boy and the iron demon. Just as the demon had fallen, the picture had been interfered with. Even though tampering with the ethereal was Mr. Stemblanc's area of expertise, Daughslat knew enough to know that someone had purposefully blocked their window into the world of the looking-glass.
"Stemblanc. Get these godforsaken clouds out of our way so we can see what the hell is going on," barked Daughslat. The fat man was clearly very disgruntled by the interuption of his viewing. His eyes were squinted even smaller than usual, and even his gargantuan belly seemed to jiggle with dissatisfaction. The younger man sitting at the table, with dark black hair, Jeriah Evenst noticed how quickly the fat man's charade of good nature was revealed to be the fakery it was.
The three men were still seated around the kitched table, tracking the progress of the boy who had passed through the gate to the world of the looking-glass. Daughslat had thrown a fit when the boy so easily escaped the black void behind the door. To most human visitors, the buildings seemed to house things that person desired, and they only realized it was an obstacle after they had fallen into it. Once trapped within the void, the victim was painfully forced back to the rocky path and once again tempted to forego the object that was their light.
Daughslat had theorized that the boy's white cloack had revealed the trap for what it was, as it exposed the demons, but Jeriah knew better. The void was only capable of reproducing passing earthly pleasures and desires, thus the boy's desires were simple and lacked superficial qualities that could be exploited by the void's deceptive nature. However, passing that one test would prove futile if the boy's weaknesses allowed him to succumb to the dark world.
Jeriah knew his request would be denied, but he asked anyway, knowing that he must retain the illusion of captivity. "May I see Celia now?"
"No," answered Stemblanc. Jeriah had been sure that the usually silent man had fallen asleep but didn't let his surprise show.
Daughslat looked at Jeriah disgustedly. "What's the point anyway Evenst? She's barely functional. She probably would've been destroyed or reprocessed or whatever if they didn't need a half-catatonic retarded girl to guard that looking-glass of yours."
Stemblanc smiled grotesquely, curling his fat upper lip unpleasantly, showing cracked and yellowed teeth.
Jeriah ignored the insult about his daughter, Celia Evenst, who had allowed the boy to pass through the looking-glass. Jeriah hoped that Celia had allowed the boy passage because she saw the potential that he had in the boy's resolve and courage. But deep down within his very self, Jeriah secretly wondered if what Daughslat had said wasn't true. Celia had been born in a state that many considered mentally paralytic, and doubted her ability to even imitate those she was supposed to be nearly identical to. As she grew older, many's fears were confirmed when she showed little or no emotion even in the face of great tradgedy or joy.
But Jeriah loved his daughter. He refused to believe she was utterly incapable of loving him back. As quickly as the shameful thought had entered his mind he thrust it aside.
"My daughter does not need a 'use' for me to love her," replied Jeriah quietly.
"Keep your dirty lies to yourself," spat Daughslat, " 'Love'. You expect us to believe that tripe?"
"So you still understand nothing, that is a shame, Daughslat."
"What you have to realize," said a voice emanating from the doorway, "is that he believe's in that 'tripe' as you so eloquently put it, Daughslat."
Jeriah turned to face the newcomer. He appeared to be about Jeriah's age, and with blonde hair that was windswept from being outside. He wore a long black overcoat and black leather gloves. His shoes were expensive looking. There was a strange quality to this man's face that most people were drawn to, assuming it was an air of confidence. But Jeriah saw it for what it was. A kind of confidence, to be sure, but a confidence in the inadequacy of others. It was a comfortability born from the assumption that the people around him were far his inferior. When confronted by mice the dragon need not assert his authority, and this man surely saw himself as a great red dragon.
"Hullo, Mr. Vanlorne," said Mr. Stemblanc. To the casual listener, Stemblanc would've seemed quite cheery to see this new man, but anyone who paid close attention would've noticed the note of fear in the fat man's voice. It was clear that be it spoken or not, the thin young man who had just entered considered the two fat men dogs, and they obeyed him as such.
"Vanlorne!" cried Daughslat, "How excellent. Evenst here was just inquiring into your absence. Good to have you back."
The man sat in the seat that Daughslat had occupied before the fat man had jumped up to greet him. Daughslat pointedly avoided noticing the robbery of his seat and quickly dragged another chair up to the table.
"You may call me Lucrexio Vanlorne, from now on" said the new man evenly.
Jeriah raised an eyebrow, "I thought first-names were below you. I'm afraid you'll always be Steddil to me."
Vanlorne's eyes narrowed dangerously. Jeriah was unconcerned, but he could see the cold flames dancing behind the deceptively calm blue eyes of this man. Steddil looked as if he might kill Jeriah on the spot, but the moment passed. Lucrexio Vanlorne sat perfectly composed and only the most attentive of readers of body language and facial expression would realize how close to death Jeriah Evenst had come to at that moment.
"I would not lightly forget your position in this little drama, Dewly," said Lucrexio steadily.
The use of Jeriah's old name did not bother him in the slightest. He knew Steddil must've realized this, because when he spoke again he addressed him by his common name.
"Listen to me, Jeriah. Those who you work for, they don't care who decides what Daughslat and Stemblanc and I do. They don't care who orders us around. If they did, they wouldn't they be storming this ramshackle apartment by now?"
Jeriah remained silent and Lucrexio took it incorrectly for resigned agreement.
"There's no need for you or Celia to end up like those other two fools. All we want is a little cooperation to rework the heirarchy of our organization."
"And then what?" asked Jeriah calmly.
"From there it's anyone's guess, Evenst."
"I'll put my money on the same thing I always have."
"No one could forsee this Jeriah. Don't rely on old methods for new situations."
"Just because you lack foresight doesn't mean everyone does, Steddil."
To Celia's Looking Glass chapter 5>
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