Chapter 1: Damien

The Empire is crumbling. 

It was now nothing but a  shell of what it once was. What was once a beacon of peace and prosperity, one created under God's light became nothing more but a means to an end. A disappointing end.

Maybe it could be saved from it's inevitable doom or maybe it was always meant to fail, and the books lied. 

Damien snapped said book shut after such a thought, his eyes turned up to the door before him. Guards standing by its side, glancing in his direction. Dressed in black and gold coats, they stood still, like shadows, guarding, watching his every move, inspecting Damien as their posture coiled in violence.

A voice then ushered him in and like gospel the soldiers beside him stepped to the side. A heavy, silvery metal liquid, Caellum flowed from their spears as it seeped into the door. The Blackcoats, the personal guard of the emperor, a legacy of a bygone age.

Damien forced his eyes up as it locked with pools of crimson, the same crimson he held, the familiar crimson of House Magna. Damien shivered at the sight as pressure forced his head down and his knees took to the floor, his mouth opened in instinct as he slammed his fist over his chest. “I greet your Imperial Majesty!”

“Sit.” a cold voice ordered.

Damien reined in the shaking in his shoulders as he stood up straight. The terror in his bones coming out in quick, awkward steps towards the chair. The door behind him slammed to a close as he realized a simple fact, he was alone. 

Alone with the monster that left his mother to die. Damien swallowed all the rage back in his throat as he sat. Tearing his eyes from the man’s form, the thought of getting a glimpse of the monster he once called father made his stomach churn. 

It felt like an eternity, waiting for him to speak as Damien basked on the gold luxuries around him, gazing at the banner of golden eagles emblazoned on a bleeding moon. All the while a portrait of his Majesty stood against him.

The prideful, arrogant bastard.

“Damien.” said the Emperor as he looked up from the documents stacked around the table, a tendril emerging from his ring, depositing a paper into Damien’s hand. “I have put into effect a new imperial order.” He locked eyes with Damien, Damien who saw nothing but cold apathy. “And remove bounty hunters in their entirety, a new organization is to be created for the Imperial Capital.”

Damien bowed his head, what does any of that have to do with him? His mind churned at the question before he recoiled at the answer he got, a soft whisper in his lips. “Am I to be assigned as the new head of this organization?”

“Yes, you are to create it from the ground up.”

“May I ask for the reason for such an appointment?” Since he’s never once given him attention. So, why now?

“You have reached your age of maturity, living your life as a layabout would hurt the reputation of our family.” He glared, “Take this chance to create something of of your life, maybe then you’ll honor your mother’s memory.” He remarked, unfazed as he jabbed against his own son’s dignity. 

YOU DARE!? Damien chained down the fire in his chest as he gave a polite smile, the clenching hands hidden beneath the desk as he gritted out. “May I ask how far does my reach go in regards to my leadership? Is there someone I must answer to?” 

“You will have full control of whatever organization you plan to create. The only man you are to answer to… is me.” The Emperor broke off eye contact and resumed work as he performed a masterful art of magic.

The caellum ring in his fingers morphed from his own thoughts, passing unto him documents, a golden eagle emblazoned on its cover. “All the authorization that you’ll need is here. The only thing you’ll have access to is funding, half a million Aurins a year.”

Damien froze in disbelief, how the hell could anyone hope to contain that madness? Especially with nothing but half a million. “Your Majesty? With all due respect, half a million Aurins isn’t enough to create a force capable of policing a million-.”

“Figure it out yourself.” said the Emperor, in a tone that allowed for no arguments. “I would expect that before the start of council sessions you have taken control of the city’s criminal infestation or you shall be disowned. Because I would expect nothing less from my blood.”

Damien held back whatever rebuttal he had and bowed, a fist over his chest. “Then I shall endeavor to make you proud, your majesty.” 

“Good, take your leave.”

“By your will, Your Majesty.” Damien stood up and left, walking through the door before a whisper made its way to his ear and he looked back in shock. Through the closing doors he saw his father’s eyes locking with his own, leaving him in shocked silence and a whirlwind of thought.

A whirlwind of thought that lasted through the day and the day after.

Now, inside a carriage, he has read and reread the document in his hand. The document that showed the validity of his station and the complete and utter shitshow that he has been thrown into. A fact that showed itself once he looked out.

The rows of elegant mansions, filled with beautiful women in their long elegant dresses roaming in their expensive colorful gardens. The sounds of their giggling echoing through the streets.

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Yet, despite such luxuries every meter away from the palace the mansions shrunk, the colors dulled and the smell of perfume turned into dirt and ash, a thick scent punching him in his throat. He sighed at the sight, it was nothing but back to back rows of apartments, small houses or rooms, each one smaller than the last. 

It felt like home.

He chuckled to himself and held the ring up to his face as he closed his eyes. The caellum then melted. Damien shivered at the touch before forcing his mind to the task at hand, feeling the cold metal slither to his face, morphing and changing it as he desired. 

It took a minute of such before Damien took out a mirror and smiled. The unfamiliar face of a stranger smiling back, with the distinct red hue of his eyes gone along with the black hair he has grown familiar with. Now everything from his hair to his chin was different. He smirked as the carriage opened on command.

He stepped out in a coat of gold as his eyes fleeted across the familiar streets, before turning to the sign above, ‘A slice of heaven.’  It was a brothel, the most famous brothel in the capital, hidden behind a wall, exclusive to the wealthy.

He stepped forward only to have another to slam against his chest, green eyes glared at him in anger and irritation. “Watch where you walk.” 

Damien laughed to himself, truly this place never changed 

So, with that in mind, he entered the place he once called home. 

The soft scent of lavender was the first thing he took in, the sounds of an enchanting tune was another, and with it came a blend of blue, green and purple each one soothed his senses. It was always a miracle how that hag created such a relaxing scene around a woman dancing to a tune. 

“Hello there, sir. Do you have an appointment?” A woman asked.

“None of the sort, I came here to meet Baroness Delilah.”

“I see, it is unfortunate but she is currently preoccupied.”

Damien leaned forward onto her desk, “I’m sure she’ll have time to meet me.”

“If you say so, sir. May I at least have a name?” said the girl as he leaned away.

“Bella Grace.” Damien remarked with a soft smile. 

The girl looked back, confused before nodding, “Please take a seat, sir.”

“Oh, thank you.” He gave her a wide grin as he sat, waiting. 

Waiting for five minutes before armed guards practically dragged him through a flight of stairs. His protests are ignored as a hand is held over his mouth, his arms flailing about him in terrified fear. Everyone knew he fucked up.

That’s what they thought as he got thrown in through the door, slamming it close as Damien stood up with a cheeky grin, “Oh my, I didn’t know the Baroness handled her customers like this. I must say, this place has gone downhill.”

“Shut up you fucking brat.” An old woman scoffed, a pipe in her hand. She rolled her green eyes as she turned to him in irritation. “You’re earlier than usual.”

“Oh c’mon you think I wouldn’t visit my favorite hag? And besides… I don’t need an excuse to leave the noble’s inane chatter. I do well just fine.”

She rolled her eyes in fond exasperation, “How about you tell me why you’re here?”

“Well, I have a proposal for you. Something I’m sure you’ll be happy to have.” Damien pushed a document on her table, “I’ll be needing your resources and connections since something happened.”

Delilah raised an eyebrow, “I thought you didn’t want to have anything to do with that throne?”

“Yes, that was the plan. But plans change, his majesty made sure of that.” 

“That doesn’t answer my question, brat.” She read through the title and smirked, “But maybe we could do something about this problem of yours.”

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