Redemption Arc

Lucian elected to get out of the carriage a little while before Denzel so they weren’t seen together. It was a mutually agreed upon arrangement. The both of them understood fully well now that each and every one of their actions would be scrutinized. He entered the city by gondola, welcoming the familiar feel of the turbulent waters underneath. Once he was back in the city, he tipped the gondolier. As he stepped out…

“Lucian?”

Hearing his name, Lucian turned to see who was talking to him. A knight stood before him, bearing a butterfly crest on his breastplate. That was the Villamar family symbol. Where did this come from?

“I hear you’ve embarrassed your family yet again,” the knight said.

“Do I know you?” Lucian raised a brow. “I’m quite busy.”

The knight’s jaw clenched, and his lips pouted briefly before he said, “Chancellor Cyril Villamar summoned you.”

“I’m afraid this is Verne. He can’t just summon me,” Lucian said, but then paused. “Hold on. He’s already here?”

The knight nodded. “He’s been looking for you, then, if summons don’t work. I would advise that you go quickly. This isn’t a family matter, I was told. It’s about the Concord and the Collegium.” He smiled. “I must say, it’s good to see pieces of filth like yourself receive the fate they deserve.”

“Filth washes off. You’ll be stupid forever.” Lucian walked away, not waiting for the man’s reaction.

Lucian knew coming in that he was in for a rough arrival, but it seemed like the piranhas were already taking bites out of him. Without Metterand, and with Denzel announced as the heir to Villamar, a lot of people would be taking the opportunity to make Lucian’s life harder.

***

Despite saying that he wouldn’t answer a summons, Lucian ended up heading right for his supposed ‘father’ to work out what exactly he wanted from him. Lucian had some idea. He entered into the room that had once been Metterand’s, and which was now Duke Cyril Villamar’s. When he entered, the man was having bandages wrapped around his arm. He turned toward Lucian. Duke Cyril Villamar was pretty much a prophecy for how Lucian would look when he was older. Hopefully without the diseased bit.

“You failed even the simplest task,” Cyril said immediately. “A monastery full of unwed women, and you brought back not one.”

“Gee, dad, I’m fine. It was scary, but I survived,” Lucian responded jokingly, looking around before he settled his eyes on Cyril. “Thanks for the concern.”

“Were you rehearsing that line?” Cyril asked. It stung a little because he was right. He dismissed the person that was wrapping his arm, and the servant dutifully left. Cyril focused on him. “Where is Cate?”

“Out of your reach,” Lucian said.

Cyril narrowed his eyes. “I’m the patriarch of House Villamar. Her safety is my concern.”

“Her next marriage is your concern,” Lucian said. “They saw that she was being abused. They elected to harbor her, at my encouragement. If you want to litigate that matter with the monastery, feel free. I’m sure the public would eat that up. ‘Duke Cyril Villamar demands that Heavenwatch Monastery give him back his daughter, so he can wed her to some sixty-year-old geriatric.’ An excellent headline.”

Cyril didn’t get angry as his authority was defied. He just stared, blankly, like Lucian was a puzzle to be solved rather than a human being.

“Have you decided to be a more active opponent of your own house?” Cyril asked.

Lucian angled his head. “You essentially disinherited me. I don’t particularly care what happens next to the great Villamar name.”

“The name is not important. What’s best for the nation, and by extension the world, is,” Cyril explained. “Cate can help foster cohesion at a time when things are quite tense, and the probability of bloodshed very high.”

Lucian looked at him and spoke seriously. “The only thing that should matter is dealing with the demons. They’re bigger than noble alliances. They’re the cause of much of the friction between the great powers.”

“Hmm.” Cyril brought his bandaged hand to his face, scratching at his chin. “Dealing with demons is as dealing with earthquakes, or floods. You cannot predict them. You can only weather them.”

Lucian stepped closer. “You’re saying we should live in a flood-prone area without a worry in the world?”

“I was facing demons before you were born. You confront one, and now claim to be an expert?” Cyril asked, looking up at him. “Perhaps ‘confront’ is generous. I have plans in mind for the demons, I assure you. I’m not blind to the threat they pose. But no matter. My words are wasted on you.”

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Lucian held his arms wide. “Then why did you want to see me?”

“I intend to have your title of Auxiliary to the Student Ambassadors revoked,” Cyril said flatly.

Lucian felt his heart thump in his chest. That would mean he’d have no way to access the story missions. He could trail along, sure, but that was different than being in the center of the action. It kept him back from a lot of opportunities and marginalized him for the foreseeable future. Not to mention he wouldn’t have any sway over the proceedings in the Concord.

After taking a deep breath, Lucian realized something. “But that’s not your decision, is it? That’s the dean’s.”

Cyril placed his elbows on the desk and entwined his hands. “I helped cover a major budget shortfall in the Collegium, and Dean Mortimer was more than willing to make the arrangement. I’m positive that he would be more than willing to end such an accommodation just as easily.”

Lucian couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Why did you even do all that for me if you hated it so much?”

“Your mother very foolishly insisted that I get the title for you. I very foolishly acquiesced, if only to keep her placated,” Cyril said. “It was cheaper than enduring her antics when she has something she wants. Her tantrums are… costlier… than even yours.”

“Why did you even marry her?”

Cyril leaned back with distant eyes. “Because I was not always the head of House Villamar.”

Lucian gritted his teeth together, then shook his head. “I’ll fight this.”

“I see.” Cyril nodded. “That’s not particularly worrying, considering your record. I was hoping I could convince you to coordinate this with me. I have need of incidents that might turn the tide of public opinion. Considering your notoriety, you’re an excellent piece to surrender to the public. If you accept your fate and cooperate, I’ll arrange an inheritance suitable to your talents and continue to look after you during your stay in Verne.”

“And if not?”

Cyril’s stare was even and hard. “You’ll lose any goodwill and protection I have left to offer. I would recommend against that.”

Lucian hadn’t been counting on either goodwill or protection. Heavenwatch Monastery would be watching out for him, at least from physical threats, and Denzel would be leveraging what ties he had to make his stay in Verne a touch smoother. Even still, he felt sorely the consequences of dealing with Metterand so soon. When Metterand died later in the game, people had bigger problems than Lucian. Now? They had the freedom to make Lucian’s life hard.

“As far as I’m concerned, I’m not a Villamar anymore. That means I don’t have to listen to what you’re saying.” Lucian stood right over the desk. “You’re not my father. You’ve never been my father, not once. Maybe if you had been, I wouldn’t be in this situation. And now? When you die, I’ll celebrate.”

“I see.” Cyril nodded. Lucian realized that he was only wasting his words. This man didn’t have feelings to hurt. “If you change your mind, the offer remains open. I’m neither petty nor spiteful. I merely wish to achieve the best outcome for all parties. And with that in mind, I’d advise that you take the offer quickly. The longer it remains on the table, the less value it holds.”

In that moment, Lucian briefly considered if there was any way that he could persuade this man to come on his side. But the callous, cool indifference he displayed toward everything… Lucian couldn’t be sure demons had no sway over Cyril. He couldn’t be trusted with any larger secrets.

Cyril grabbed a bell and rung it. The servant that had been wrapping his arms reemerged. He put his hands on the back of Cyril’s chair, and started wheeling it. The duke couldn’t even walk, yet here was, right back into the heart of things. Lucian felt conflicted about Cyril. He was definitely a grade A asshole and a terrible father, but… maybe he was doing the right thing, from his point of view.

But I guess it’s official. I need to move my things out of my apartment in Verne, and head to the dormitories, Lucian reflected.

***

Lucian walked out of his former residence in Verne, carrying with him a bag full of all the things he needed. As it turned out, he wasn’t being given a choice in moving out. Walter had informed him that he would no longer be able to use the residence. It wasn’t much of a disruption considering he’d been planning for this, but it was yet another problem he had to deal with.

“Lucian Villamar?”

Hearing his name called for the second time, he turned his head expecting the worst. He saw a familiar man—Turke Dumane, chancellor for the Confederation of the Veen. He was escorted by several of his personal guards alongside some of the city guard from Verne.

“On behalf of the Concord of Verne, I’m here to deliver a notice that you’re currently subject to a petition to the Concord which will receive its judgment.” Turke held out a paper, and Lucian eyed it. “The petition includes allegations of a great many criminal acts, the most prominent of which is the murder of Sancar Alkoyen.”

Lucian set down his things and took the notice, bewildered. It was quite long.

“This petition has been filed jointly by individuals within the Confederation of the Veen, the Republic of New Riverra, the Kingdom of Vantz, and the Empire of Riverra,” he said in official tones. “Under international law, and even considering your status as a noble, any judgment reached by the Concord will be binding, and enforceable within all nations. You will be subject to a fair trial. The judge and jury will be chosen from Verne to ensure neutrality. Now that you have been served this notice, certain things are expected of you, legally. As you’re a noble, your personal freedom will not be restricted. Nevertheless, you will be expected to attend certain hearings at certain dates. Absence will result in a default judgment.”

Lucian read through the notice, his heart beating fast. Was this something that Duke Cyril Villamar had prepared, or was it simply a consequence of removing Metterand from the equation?

Turke stepped closer to Lucian. “No one is protecting you anymore, scum. The Alkoyen family will have justice for Sancar.”

It seemed that Lucian was on trial for murder. One that, frankly, he probably did.