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Footsteps. Echoing throughout the manors chilling stone walls. Something was off. Looking around the halls of the almost forgotten manor, the canor noticed the gargoyles that usually sat upon the pillars were gone. The usual stone golems that blocked the path were missing as well, only small piles of rock indicated their previous presence. Bodies of servants were scattered about, blood pooling beneath them, staining the floor a dark crimson.
There were no sounds of fighting, and no signs of struggle against the golems or servants. The adventurer picked up his pace, carefully stepping over the substance akin to red wine, to not track it further throughout the manor. Clearly, someone had been here before him. It was odd, unexpected. Though he didn’t let this deter him from making his way further into the dimly lit halls.
The strong smell of iron in the air only worsened the closer the canor got to the Duke Erisia’s laboratory, causing his face to contort to one of worry. He knew that the Lord of the manor tended to be sought after, for resonance and treasures alike, but he had never seen the aftermath of the fights. Pulling his scarf over his nose, the adventurer attempted to block out the scent of blood. It wasn’t uncommon for him to come across, but the sheer amount and strength of it within the locked away manor was almost enough to make him gag. He made his way up the small set of stairs towards the lab, accidentally kicking something in the meantime.
Hearing the scraping against the stone floor, the canor quickly looked down to assess what it was. The shard of glass slowed to a halt, a few feet away from the adventurer. An unusual find, given most of the windows of the manor were blocked off within the other halls. Perhaps a piece of jewelry belonging to an adventurer that had passed through recently, the canor thought to himself. With this in mind, he continued forward.
Coming to the hall which would lead him into the Duke of Erisia’s lab, he found similar, albeit smaller, chunks of the shattered glass. With how close he was to the lab, the canor decided to put off investigating the matter. He could simply ask the Lord what happened, after all. A small hop over the shards, to avoid getting any stuck in the soles of his boots, and he was walking into the room that housed bits of the Forge of Sin and other experiments of the Duke’s. The scent of blood strengthened as he stepped into the room, a figure standing in the corner.
The adventurer was quick to notice the silhouette was looming over a body, blood pooling at their feet from the fallen’s wound. Startled by the sight, Atlas would take a step back, drawing attention to him unintentionally. The silhouette, who he had now realized was the Lord Erisia himself, slowly turned to face the canor. His face expressionless, before it creeped into a sadistic grin. Eyes bloodshot, his pupils small, a look that the canor had never seen before on the Duke of Erisia. He was covered in blood, from his recent victim who laid lifeless behind him, his hands stained crimson.
A belt was attached to the sorry soul’s waist, where bottles once resided, now smashed under their weight. The purple of the spilled potions mixed with the crimson blood. Though the adventure was drawn out of his daze by laughter. Eyes darted to the celtor royale, who held a hand to his face as his laughter echoed against the stone walls. It wasn’t a soft chuckle like he had given the canor on previous occasions, such as when he was being scolded by the shorter male for his lack of rest. This one was a laugh that sent a shudder down Atlas’ spine, his fur standing up at the sound.
“Ah, just the one I was looking forward to seeing!” The Lord Erisia’s tone dripped with malice, his voice harsh and loud. With a backwards kick, the corpse at his feet was pushed away, the deep scarlet fluid staining the leather dress shoes he wore. “My, what's with that look? It’s as if you’ve seen a ghost, dear.”
As the Duke approached the canor, he quickly began to back away, keeping distance between them. The attempt at staying away from Erisia’s ruler proved futile, as with a strong gust of wind, the Lord launched himself at his prey. Knocking the smaller male back into the wall behind him, causing him to gasp for the air he lost from the impact. Another laugh left the celtors lips, quieter than the last, though held the same sinister tone behind it.
“I admire how persistent you are, Scarsen, continuing to come back here time after time, just to ensure I’m taking care of myself, of all things!” The bloodstained hand gripped the mutt’s jaw firmly, forcing the canor to face the Duke. Yellow-green eyes were glazed over, giving them an empty look, almost hollow in nature. “You come back here, despite knowing the atrocities I’ve committed, knowing full well that I’m not a kind person. Just like the obedient dog you are.”
A growl could be heard deep from the canor’s throat, as he reached for the sword at his back. Before he could grab the hilt of his blade though, the gloved hand of the Duke Erisia was around his throat, pinning him to the wall single handedly. With a gasp, Atlas dug his nails into the celtors wrist, an attempt at loosening the others' unrelenting grip.
“Ah, ah, ah, where are your manners?” His voice condescending, an eyebrow raised at the canor’s actions. His ears were down, tail between his legs as ice blue eyes glared at the Duke. The Lord let out a chuckle at the others expression, taking his free hand to caress the jetstriker’s cheek. Atlas reeled away from the touch, a whine escaping his lips.
“Why is it you keep returning, truly? There has to be more to it than simply wanting to make sure I’m getting rest.” With a squeeze of his hand, the canor gasped once again, taking in all the air he could as his windpipes were squeezed closed. “Perhaps you’re trying to learn the secrets of the Forge from the inside… Just to relay the information back to that Thing…” He hissed at the mention of the Lord Regent, his eyes darkening as he glared down to the adventurer.
“What…? No, that's not why-” Atlas spoke, only to be cut off by Duke Erisia tightening his grip once again.
“If you wish to learn about the Forge…” The Lord continued, not acknowledging the canor’s attempt at reasoning with him. “Why don’t I show you just what it's capable of…?”
The coloring in the canors face drained at the words spoken to him. In one last futile attempt at escape, he thrashed around in the Duke Erisia’s hold, kicking at the Lord’s shins. Just about anywhere he could reach, he attempted to strike. Even making an attempt to sink his canines into the flesh of the Duke’s arm. Landing the strike, the Lord hissed out, quickly pulling his hand away from the canor’s throat.
Atlas gasped as he was released, his breath heavy. Bringing up his own hand, he rubbed at the skin on his neck, trying to relieve the pain. A feeling at the top of his head caused him to gaze up, only to let out a yelp as the Duke gripped onto the canors hair, pulling him back up to his feet.
“You should’ve ran while you had the chance, pup.” The Lord spat out, the frown on his face turning back to that sadistic grin at the canor’s struggle. “But you kept coming back, time after time… You’ll truly make an amazing servant… Perhaps the best of them, even…”
His sick laughter echoed throughout the laboratory, the grip on Atlas’ hair tightening as the Lord began to walk over towards a platform which had been raised from the floor, dragging the mutt with him. Once at the foot of the circular platform, the Duke was quick to remove the canor’s sword and shield, tossing them to the side effortlessly, before placing the jetstriker down on the platform quite roughly.
Releasing the canor’s hair, the Lord was quick to pin the adventurer's wrists down above his head. Producing a scalpel from his pocket, the Duke Erisia lightly brushed the sharpened blade against Atlas’ cheek, crimson escaping from the split skin, beading down the canor’s face. A whimper left the jetstrikers lips, as he tightly shut his eyes at the pain. The warmth of his own blood against his flesh was a sensation he was used to, always getting into fights by accident. Though no matter how many fights he got himself into, pain never seemed to dull.
The celtorian Lord above Atlas only snickered at the expression on the mutt's face, caressing the wounded cheek. His thumb caught a drop of the red wine substance just before it fell from the cut, bringing it up to his own lips, licking the crimson from his gloved finger. Amusement shined in the green eyes of the Duke as he watched the canor glare daggers from below.
“A loyal mutt like you is sure to make an excellent servant, why do you look so displeased, hm?” The Lord let out a laugh once more, using the handle of the scalpel to tilt the canor’s chin up slightly. In response to this, Atlas bared his teeth, letting out a low growl at the Duke, only causing his laughter to continue.
“How adorable. I see someone wants to get started already.” The growling quickly ceased, the canor now looking evermore fearful. Seeing the quick change in the mutt's demeanor, the Lord hummed, appeased. With this, the Duke grabbed the canor by his hair once more, taking him towards an empty glass chamber within his lab. A piece of the Forge of Sin itself.
Opening the test tube, the Lord pushed the jetstriker in, quickly shutting and securing the door with a lock behind him. Recovering from the initial startle, the canor began banging his fists against the glass, an attempt to break it and escape, causing the Duke Erisia to smirk.
With a snap of his fingers, the small fragment of the Forge of Sin roared to life. A wave of discomfort came over Atlas, as if he were being suffocated. He pounded against the glass harder, now ramming his shoulder into the material that trapped him. Desperately fighting to get out. The attempts were futile, as he quickly began to succumb to the suffocating feeling growing in his chest.
The Duke merely stood outside the glass, watching the canor’s attempt to escape. It felt like his soul was being sucked out of his body, or as if it was being crushed under the pressure. A hiss left his lips as salt from tears went into the cut upon his cheek. Nails scraped against the glass, the canor gasping out for air as he fell to his knees.
And the world went black.
Hours later, the canor would wake. The mind-breaking potions had long since worn off of the Duke. But the damage done was irreversible. Lord Erisia walked into his lab once again, the sight of the once energetic and full of life canor, his eyes now hollow and devoid of any semblance of his previous nature caused him to avert his gaze.
Possibly the first and last person who would care for him, having shown up at the worst time imaginable, now a soulless husk of what he once was. He would never be able to forgive himself for this.
With a heavy sigh, the Lord would go over to the corpse of another one of his servants, ripping the blindfold from their face, revealing the dead eyes of the chrysid. Nudging the body away with his shoe, the Duke stepped back to the canor, who sat motionless in the glass chamber, only his breathing showing signs that he was alive.
Opening the door, the celtor grabbed the new servant's hand gently, helping him to his feet and out of the test tube. The canor, who would have previously gotten embarrassed at the gesture, now stood still. The soulless eyes boring holes into the Duke’s skin. Grabbing the mutt by his shoulders, he turned the servant towards the glass cage, bringing the blindfold over the blue eyes, now cold as ice. He secured the fabric with a knot, before lifting the shorter into a bridal carry.
Once again, the lack of a reaction from the smaller male was loud, the celtor letting out yet another sigh. Carefully, he carried the canor out of his lab, traversing the halls of his manor. Coming to where he had a stone golem strategically placed, he rang the resonance at his hip, causing the golem to get up from where it sat. Moving to the side, the golem revealed the hidden hallway, and Lord Erisia continued on his path.
Coming up to a door which was previously a bedroom reserved for guests before the islands falling, the celtor brought the canor in. Carefully, he sat the shorter one on the plush bed, taking a step back. The tilt of the servant's head showed that the canor was looking in the direction he had heard the Duke.
A gentle hand brushed against the canors uninjured cheek, a frown on the Lord's lips.
“I’m sorry, Atlas.” A whisper fell on deaf ears, the servant now unresponsive to his own name. With this, the Lord Erisia pulled his hand back to his side, his grimace only deepening as he looked at the canor. Turning away from the husk, he went back to the guest room’s door.
With one last look at the canor, the Lord Erisia diverted his eyes again, quickly shutting the door behind him.