When Your Dusk Arrives

Pitch black. Darkness enveloped the room. Not one tiny flicker of light could be seen. Nothing except endless shadows. Yet, a tall man draped in a black hooded cloak strode calmly on the white marble floor, his steps making no sound in the still air. He was wearing a silver Colombian mask that was heavily jeweled with dazzling calcites and rubies, but one could see his grey eyes darting from one spot to the next, as if he could see everything through the darkness. He continued to walk, then he stopped, and tucked his right hand in the clock's breast pocket, pulling out a brass, peculiar-looking compass. It was a small yet elegant antique hand compass. It had a stainless brass casing, but something was inscribed on it. Curling letters from an unknown alphabet were scrawled on it, but the man nodded as if he understood and quickened his feet, still producing no sounds. On and on he walked through the darkness, never stopping for once, but after what felt like an eternity, he halted and bowed. "I apologize for being late, Your Majesty." his voice was husky, slightly flat. A chilling silence followed his words, the air smelled of something bizarre, dangerous rather, but the man continued, "As Your Majesty had ordered, I have slayed the Duke's head off." he spoke in the same flat tone. "But it seems His Highness the Crown Prince was not with the Duke as you'd anticipate-" He was interrupted by a distant yet piercing scream of anguish, echoing. A candle suddenly flickered on just a few feet away from him, in mid-air. Then another, and another, until the entire area was lit up by hundreds of white wax candles. Surrounding the man now was a strange mammoth meeting room, with black walls and ceiling. Empty portraits of various sizes hung on the walls, their frames made of pure gold. A long glass table was in the very center of the room, laden with silver goblets, plates and shining silverware, the table hovering in midair. "Well, you may raise your head, Hugo." whispered a guttural voice, chuckling in a way which made the man's hair stand on end. Hugo slowly raised his head to meet two black pools, fixed on his, the hunger of revenge visible in them. At the end of the glass table sat a handsome man, with fine slick black hair, perfect jawline, and broad shoulders. The navy blue tunic with golden trimming suited him very well. A crown lay upon his head, indicating his power. One wouldn't be able to believe that this man was in his late 40s... "As I have so far understood," said His Majesty, in a bored tone, breaking the train of thoughts in the man's head, "I believe you have failed my orders. Am I wrong?" he raised an eyebrow when Hugo didn't immediately answer, but then he said, "...No, Your Majesty." he kept his head low. The least he wanted was to be killed at the hands of the man in front of him. Silence. The air grew colder as each minute flew by without anyone of them speaking. Hugo could feel the devil's eyes on him but he didn't move and stood still as a statue. "Do not test my patience, Hugo. I'm sure you already know enough of that." said His Majesty. There were no signs of anger on his face, or hatred. "If you were just an ordinary guard of mine, you would already have been dead, bleeding, screaming in agony." he smiled, no laughter in those eyes of his. "Which is what I intend to do, but not now, Hugo, not yet." Hugo waited, knowing what the king was about to say, "I must admit that I'm disappointed with you, Hugo, very disappointed. However, I will give you another chance. Will you have the honor to accept it?" Hugo looked up, and saw His Majesty staring at him, watching him. If he wanted to survive, then... "Yes, Your Majesty, pray tell me what you wish." He would do anything for it. His Majesty smiled, and opened his mouth: "Bring Elodie Multon to me."