Chapter 5: Identity
Later that day, the festivities began. Unlike the formal setting at the ball, this welcome was rowdy. Sinners hung around fires, chatting indistinctly. Rafael stood in a cluster with his company.
However, a few other sinners joined and he managed to slip away, unable to bottle it in. He stood on a side porch, watching the sunset. Fairchild joined him, sighing deeply.
"Still can't stand them, can you?"
Rafael managed a weak smile, stroking the nape of his neck and glancing at him. "It's just hard to stand there as if nothing happened."
"But these sinners didn't have a hand in that and besides, forgiveness is the way of Saints."
"Some sins cannot be forgiven."
"Don't let yourself drown in your thirst for revenge."
"What I seek is retribution, not revenge."
"Still, do not lose yourself."
Rafael was trembling, he seemed to have difficulty swallowing. "You weren't there that night. You didn't look on helplessly as your comrades fell all around you. He pointed backward, as though he could point at the past.
"You didn't watch everything you call home get destroyed in one night. You don't go to bed at night hearing their screams and wake up, wishing you'd gone down with them instead. So, I don't expect you to understand."
Fairchild sighed, "I could never put myself in your shoes, Rafael, I can only imagine what you feel. Even so, remember The Two Sons."
Rafael let out an exasperated sigh, "Again with that story? It's just a myth. It never happened."
"Why then, are you a saint?" Fairchild turned and walked away, not waiting for an answer and rightly so, because such discussions between them had always led to that question, but it had never been answered.
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The council representative banged both fists on the table and got up, pushing his seat backward. "That is unacceptable!
Ichabod arched an eyebrow and he realized himself, "Apologies my lord. He sat down, "Forsythe has insulted the union once. We have to set an example."
His arms were crossed and he bore a sour expression. "Not this time Credo. He has The Son of Iniquity backing him, He got up and walked to the window.
"Keep in mind, however, he didn't turn. "Once the registration is done - that is, that The Son of Iniquity is neither all-seeing nor all-knowing and that even I could suffer memory losses from time to time."
"Of course, my lord." Credo grinned wickedly. He watched the raven fly off, an evil gleam in its amber-colored eyes.
"*********************
Rafael still stood there; his face contorted as a fresh wave of grief washed across him. He felt like he was being suffocated and needed release. The thought of disappearing for a while came to mind but Medea appeared around the corner of the building, one arm against it.
"Rafael, there's something-"
He turned away sharply, sniffing as he wiped his eyes. "Is something wrong?" He faced her.
She nodded, "Yes." She walked to him and wiped a smudge off his cheek. "You missed a spot." Her hand remained there and he leaned against it.
"Let's escape this world for a while." He whispered, swallowing at the sound of his voice.
"Sure, but I think you should know the one they call Brut just showed up."
He gasped and immediately stood straight, looking revived. He could guess who that was. He walked on towards the front but turned just before the corner, pointing at his face.
Medea chuckled, "It's fine." She said, coming after him.
Outside, Brut stood, a large carriage behind him.
He'd pulled it all the way here and the sight of him, with his sin-engulfed arm, was truly a fear instilling one.
The party had come to a full standstill, everyone expecting a confrontation.
Rafael appeared at the steps of the log house, Medea beside him. Brut noticed this and walked towards them, pulling the carriage behind him.
The sinners cleared the path for him and he stopped once he got to the foot of the stairs. What happened next shocked everyone present.
"My lord." Brut bellowed, dropping on one knee. "I bring with me all of our loot. Show mercy to your humble servant."
A period of awkward silence ensued.
"I did not see that coming," Mycroft whispered to Fairchild, lodging the arrow he'd drawn in his quiver.
"Open the carriage, Rafael commanded and Brut got up, and pulled the doors wide open. Gold coins amongst other precious items gushed forth.
Rafael smiled. "Come." Brut did and Rafael gripped his arm. "Sinners of Gomorrah, you have cowered in fear from your Sodom counterparts long enough. I promise a new era, one where they are the ones who cower.
"You all have known this sinner, Brut, long enough but tonight, he is reborn. In his hand, I place the protection of our city from all who oppose us. I give you, the Force of Gomorrah!"
The sinners erupted in rapturous cheer and Brut elevated Rafael bringing him to the midst of them. They surrounded him as he landed, all trying to lay hands on him in some kind of adoration. Rafael looked back at his company, he was squinting and a frown completed the expression.
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Later on, Rafael and co. sat, surrounded by the dying embers of the party. He looked fresh and relaxed like he'd taken a long bath.
Mycroft grinned, "Seems like someone's been taking his lessons seriously." Rafael chuckled along with the rest. "I'd be lying if I said that wasn't a great speech."
"When did you and Brut get so close?" Medea asked, a slow smile appearing.
Rafael smiled too, a tight-lipped one. "Not close. I just talked sense into him, earlier today."
"Oh, so that was where you were." She smiled again. "Why didn't you just tell me?" She hit his arm playfully. Rafael just smiled along with her.
"I heard something. Mycroft leaned in, clasping his hands. He looked around; he had their full attention.
"The sinners are still very much afraid of one of us. He paused for the dramatic effect and looked around once more.
"And it's not you Rafael, it's more like worship for you. It's not me either. Medea, of course, they know better than to get on your bad side. However, it's good old Fairchild here. He chuckled,
"That takes this one home." He turned to Fairchild, "I was told, some men were sent after you when we separated and their bodies have yet to be found. What happened my good man?" He chuckled. They all looked at Fairchild who smiled in his kind way,
"Sent them off to a better place." He said with a wave of his hand. Mycroft threw his head back and laughed, he was enjoying this. Rafael, however, wasn't.
"I think I'll turn in early tonight." He got up, pecking Medea on his way out.
Mycroft watched him leave, "What's wrong with him?" Medea managed a wan smile but Fairchild answered.
"You know Rafael doesn't believe in redemption for sinners."
"He needs to loosen up a bit. Medea, help us out there." He picked an apple and whistled, winking.
A dagger pierced the apple and a scarlet-faced Medea left the both of them there. Mycroft looked at Fairchild, pulling the dagger out and peeling the apple with it. "I've gotten rid of the both of them, anything you want to tell me?"
Fairchild looked away, the events coming to mind.
They'd cut him off in one of those alleys. However; he'd rode on. Whispering the words, "Sancti Expeliamis.", once he'd gotten close enough. There was a bright light and they vanished.
"I've said all there is to say." He got up too and left. Mycroft scoffed, looking aghast.
"What is wrong with everyone today?" He muttered, emptying the remnants of their jugs into his.
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The next day, Rafael and co. with the addition of Brut stood over a large table set in front of the log house. Here they laid out plans and strategies for progress.
"Medea, Brut, and I will leave for Sodom to enter into the registry. Fairchild, get the weapons ready. We'll start trading once I return. Mycroft, you can gather a bunch of sinners and teach them some new skills. Don't just lie around. I'm working on a surefire plan to ensure growth and development but I need to check out some things in Sodom. For now, we'll rely on the weapons trade and the recovered loot. He looked around the table.
"That is all for now."
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