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Kingsley Tealeaf had built himself a very elaborate backstory, which he was absolutely certain could pass up under total scrutiny. His crew believed it- or at least they were kind enough to pretend to believe it. The only people who knew the truth were the Mighty Nein and, barring a few gentle run-ins and responding to messages from his favorite little Joybuzzer, he tended to keep his distance. It wasn’t out of impoliteness or any need to be rid of them and the mourning in their eyes or what-have-you, of course. They’d learned to love Kingsley on his own merits. The mourning period had ended awhile ago, and Mollymauk felt like a long lost twin brother now, so much that it rang true to rechristen his ship in his honor.
He just… really didn’t want them to fuck up what he had going for him here is all.
They fucked things up. It’s what they did. He loved them for it, but he kinda had a good thing going for the last two years, and two years was apparently the life expectancy for this body in the hands of the Mighty Nein. He wanted to at least last longer than a fucking house mouse.
So he was armed to the teeth with lies and bullshit, spinning myth out of the aether until he was certain that he had created a shield that kept anyone from wondering how no one had ever actually seen this purple peacock of a bastard coming, and just accepted that he was here now and he was staying, and the life that came before this one, if anyone bothered to recognize the face underneath the scars and tattoos, belonged to a twin brother who died tragically on the Glory Run Road, fighting slavers to save his friends and to his brother’s ship, he gave his name.
It had, in all actuality, despite the nightmares, not occurred to Kingsley that there was a third life in there somewhere he hadn’t accounted for in his narrative.
Port Damali was just a quick stop on the path to further adventure- spend a little coin, have something that wasn’t an endless supply of sweet wine from a battered magical flask, maybe find an actual bed to crawl into, maybe find someone to crawl into that bed with. All told, brilliant plan. Kingsley swaggered into what he could only imagine was the gaudiest tavern in the whole city and found himself a seat, signaling for a waitress with a cheeky grin and a flick of his tail.
The waitress giggled and departed to fetch his order, and, to take her place, rose four people who simply seemed to have converged from the shadows at the back of the bar to approach his table.
“Lucien,” a man in his early thirties with cropped blonde hair and ice blue eyes snarled. “I would recognize you anywhere.”
Kingsley felt a pang of familiarity about that name, but when he tried to figure out where to place it all he got were tendrils and chains and screaming and memories of what could only be called a flesh cradle- nothing he wanted to indulge, and everything he put back right where it came from and slammed the door on it.
He canted his head. “Sorry, friend. Don’t know that name. Name’s Kingsley Tealeaf of the Berleben Tealeafs.” He’d liked Berelben for his origin point. He liked the stories about it in Scribbles’ journal and it sounded like a good place for a sailor who’d been landlocked his entire life to start his humble beginnings. “Maybe you know my brother-”
One of the other three yanked his chair out from under the table so hard that Kingsley simply toppled out of it and onto the floor. His hands flew to his scimitars. “Well, that was just rude,” he snapped.
“I haven’t missed your mouth,” Ice-Eyes snapped. He reached into his coat and slapped something down onto the table. Slowly, Kingsley yanked himself up onto his feet so he could get a look at it.
It wasn’t exactly a wanted poster- Kingsley would have liked that. His own wanted poster was sort of in the back of his mind on a list of things he’d imagined having someday. It was just a document detailing an assignment about tracking down this Lucien person and his crew (deserters from the Orders, whatever that meant), careworn and stained with age. The date on it was several years ago.
“You really haven’t been good at finding these people, have you?” Kingsley remarked, dryly.
Ice-Eyes scowled even harder and shifted the paper on the bottom to the top. An artist’s sketch of six people- one of them with a red x drawn across their face, obscuring it- and right smack in the middle a familiar face, albeit younger, with shorter hair and no tattoos. Underneath were detailed descriptions and names of the six individuals and scanning Kingsley saw the damning words ‘lavender tiefling’ beside the name labeled Lucien.
“Well, now what makes you think that’s me? There’s got to be plenty of lavender tieflings, given I know two of ‘em. I don’t know if I like this insinuation.” He tried to extricate himself from the situation, but a meaty hand gripped his shoulder, nearly buckling his knees and putting him onto the floor again.
Kingsley sighed. “You’re really making me do this, aren’t you?”
He snapped his fingers and stepped into the ethereal plane, much to the immediate dissatisfaction of the men and women trying to corner him. He had about a fifteen second window of this being fucking useful and as soon as it kicked in, he dove through the table, tumbled towards the door, and barreled out into the street right before snapping back to reality.
But he got his headstart anyway. Behind him, he could hear his new friends storming after him, and he picked up a burst of speed, leaping and dodging across the busy streets until he could see the docks in the distance. He took a corner too hard and nearly stumbled right into the ocean, but he corrected himself and kept running.
The Mollymauk was right where he left her. He tore up the gangplank, yelling, “Cast off! Cast off! If anyone is still on shore, we’ll come back for them, but for gods’ sakes get me out of here.”
His deeply confused crew obliged the request, yanking the gangplank up behind him. The ship was just pushing off by the time his pursuers caught up and, feeling irritated and petty, he stuck his tongue out at them.
And then he dropped down onto the deck and had a quiet panic attack.
---
Jester usually sent him a message before she bedded down for the night, assuming she had the spells. Normally, he didn’t wait up for it. It just sort of happened, and he was glad for it each time it did. He may have vanished into the night to join the Revelry, but he appreciated that these people, who he was ever so grateful for, didn’t give up on him, even if he did steal one of Fjord’s ships. Honestly, he still wasn’t sure if that spoke to his character or Mollymauk’s, but he supposed if it wasn’t him that they loved, just a bit, they could have put Molly back in the metaphorical ground and let him be.
But Jester was usually there in his head at least once a night, and tonight he was pacing his cabin, just waiting desperately, and kicking himself for never thinking to get someone who could cast Sending on his crew. Maybe if he solved this problem, that would be his next project. He could really use a cleric, anyway, what with all the bleeding he did.
He groaned and sank into his chair. His head was spinning. Going out to sea had put a lot of Mollymauk behind him. He had just enough of him to love him and love the people who loved him more, but not enough of him to be dangerous. In the end, he hadn’t quite realized it wasn’t Molly that was the danger.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, nearly resigning himself to having to wait when suddenly, Jester chirped in his head. “Kingsley! Hi. Fjord says you’re a dick but he still loves you. I miss you. Hope you’re doing okay. Does the Plank King still have-”
The message cut off before Jester could finish, and Kingsley leapt to his feet to respond, his voice panicked. “Joybuzzer! Jester! Light of my life, my darling… Can you please get me in touch with Beauregard?”
----
“You want me to be your lawyer?”
Beau regarded Kingsley Tealeaf, a giant idiot that she hadn’t seen in a year, at the very least, across a table at The Evening Nip. It had taken a week, several Sendings, and a couple of burned Teleport spells to get the two of them here, and all through that, no one had actually explained what Kingsley wanted, because he was being obnoxiously vague about it.
Now that he was explaining himself, she was pretty sure even he didn’t know what he wanted. He just found the only public official he knew and figured that would be enough, which… Honestly, kinda crafty of him. She had mad respect for that.
She was still irritated he’d run off and joined the Revelry and made himself impossible to get to after all that. She and Yasha were the last two landlocked members of the Mighty Nein he’d had a meaningful conversation with before he fucked off, and while she was honored, it was still a dick move.
“You know I’m not a lawyer, right?” She leaned forward. “And that you’re a dick?”
“Absolutely the biggest dick. I deserve that. I admit I went a little mad with power after I got that ship, but you lot are banned from Darktow and I am not, and it was really hard to resist.”
“Uh-huh.” She was unconvinced. He seemed to realize this and slumped a little on his chair, cradling his head in his hands.
“Beaaaaau,” he whined, desperately. “These people want to kill me for shite I don’t know anything about. You’ve got to help me do something. I can’t worry about this every time I stop into a port. I’ve got people to look after.”
Admittedly, that softened something in her. Hadn’t Molly revealed his lack of a past when it became clear that it might be dangerous to the Nein? Also fuck Kingsley’s stupid face and fuck Molly for leaving them with this cretin that she felt responsible for, like he’d left his kid brother on her doorstep and then flipped her off on his way out. What she was supposed to do with this? Not help him? Fuck that. If anyone messed with Kingsley, she’d shove her staff so far up their ass, she could use them for a flag, and that was if Yasha didn’t get to them first.
That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to give him hell about this, though.
“I’m gonna have to talk to Yudala and Dairon, because fuck if I know where to find the Claret Orders,” she muttered, pushing her chair back. “And you owe me.”
“Absolutely. Anything but my ship.” Beau snorted and swanned past him, planting her hand on his head and mussing his stupid haircut.
“Yeah, yeah. Just wait here. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
---
“So yeah… When we thought about all the people Lucien probably fucked over, we definitely forgot that there’s this whole creepy order he up and left.” Beau was explaining Kingsley’s predicament to Yasha as the two of them exited the Cobalt Soul library.
It had taken another round of Sending spells to get the information required and to get in touch with Caleb and Essek, and during that time, Yasha had come back from sparring with the Stubborn Stock who were back in town for Harvest’s Close, and had asked her to fill in for one of their members who couldn’t compete in the Victory Pit. She’d turned up in the library, while Beau was delegating people to get her the information she needed, sweaty, dirty, and glowing with victory radiance, and no one said a damn word, because either they were afraid of Expositor Lionett or they were afraid of her girlfriend or they were afraid of both. They simply grit their teeth and waited until Beau and Yasha exited to begin to clean the dirt and blood Yasha tracked into the library.
It was honestly an improvement. The first time Yasha had shown up to see Beau, it was a tense, fearful occasion, and Beau had to do a lot of explaining about mind control and the like and honestly did anyone really get hurt in that except Xeenoth (the answer was yes, Beau, they did). Either way, the Cobalt Soul was showing progress in accepting Yasha as a gentle giant and not as a horrifying wrecking ball of death and carnage led by a fiend and his bullshit cult.
And speaking of bullshit cults… “I don’t know what kind of case I’m gonna make here for King. I mean he’s not Lucien, but the only reason we got him clear in the whole-” she glanced around, “-Ess-Vay… thing is because no one in the government knew what Lucien looked like. The Claret Orders know him.”
“I don’t know… I think if they talked to him, they’d probably see that they’re not even remotely similar.”
Beau gave Yasha a look.
“They’re not that similar!” Yasha protested. “He’s… a bit more ambitious than Molly, is all.”
“Yeah, I know.” Beau blew out a breath. “I just feel like ambition is gonna be the one thing they remember about Lucien.”
“Yes… Well. Kingsley is much more charming. I think he’ll win them over.”
“I hope you’re right. And I hope being in and out of courtrooms for the past year means I can fake being all... legal.”
Yasha kissed her on the top of her head. “You’ll do great, baby.”
Beau beamed. At least Yasha had endless confidence in her. It had gotten her through a lot this last year. It would get her through a lot more in the years to come, as well. “Hey, there’s one good thing about landlocking King for a bit.”
Yasha tilted her head. “What’s that?”
“Harvest’s Close. He owes me. I’m gonna make him stay for it.”
She watched her girlfriend knit her brows as she tried to parse this out. “I mean… I won’t deny that sounds amazing, but I think he would do that anyway, whether he owed you or not.”
“I’m gonna make him bet against the Stubborn Stock in the Victory Pit.”
“...I’m fighting with the Stubborn Stock in the Victory Pit, though.”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t know that.”
The light clicked on behind Yasha’s eyes. “Ohhhh…” And then, “That’s actually really mean, Beau.” But she was smiling.
“That’s what he gets for bailing on us and only showing up when he needs something, like a little punk.”
---
Beau had nearly shit a brick when Yudala got back to her with the information that the Claret Order compound in Wildemount was located in Deastock. She hadn’t expected that this trip would take her so close to home, after everything. It was even worse that since Caleb and Essek had never been to Deastock, all they could do was teleport to Kamordah and make a trip of it.
She’d made Caleb put Seeming on her and King before they took off for the Bromkiln Hills, both to avoid any unnecessary attention in her hometown and because she didn’t want anyone recognizing Kingsley before they reached their destination. Essek wasn’t entirely comfortable being this deep into the Empire, even disguised, but he’d come with Caleb anyway.
She sort of wished she had said yes when Yasha asked her if she needed her to come with. It would have given her a distraction from Kingsley flirting with the wizards while she was lost in her thoughts as they traveled along the familiar footpaths she’d run along in her youth. Maybe if her dad had found a different scumbag to buy off, she would have been sent to the Claret Orders, instead of the Cobalt Soul.
The thought made her shudder. She would have been there at the same time as Lucien, then, more than likely.
She shook the thought out of her head and squinted at the sky. Cloudy. Threatening rain. But the air was crisp and not quite cold yet, so at least they wouldn’t get hit with any snow on the way, which was good because lonely roads in the snow had a tendency to fuck her up a little bit. At least Molly’s absence hurt a little less with Kingsley around- he was a gift given to them by him, and she fully believed that because it was the exact kind of shit he’d do. Here look, my story’s done, but how about you see what you can do with this one.
She figured they were doing all right. Sure, he was a pirate, but he wasn’t the awful sort. Probably… Well, she certainly hadn’t heard of him being terrible. And the fact that he had run from those Claret Order goons and then immediately set to trying to put the situation right spoke to his character. He didn’t avoid things, because he was nurtured by people who had reached the point where they didn’t avoid anything. They saw a problem and they solved it.
But Kingsley couldn’t solve this alone, and that’s why she was here, marching through familiar hills recalling a time when she’d be unrecognizable to the girl she was then. If she met that girl with her messy braids and her knocked in front teeth on this path, she wondered what she’d say to her, Hey kid, hang in there. You’re gonna meet the best friends you’ll ever have one of these days. You’re gonna save the world.
Fuck. This was making her nostalgic.
Kingsley must have gotten bored with tormenting Essek and Caleb because he sidled up beside her, distracting her from her dumb thoughts. “Thank you for this, Beau,” he said, sounding… Gods, he sounded so small. He’d been so excitable and panicked in the same dumbass way that Molly had done when it was hard to tell if he was legitimately panicking or just trying to make people think he was that it hadn’t occurred to her that he might be legitimately fucked up by what he was about to walk into.
“Hey, we look out for each other,” she said. “That’s the deal. It’s what your brother taught us.”
Kingsley chuckled, a little pained. “I wonder what he would’ve done about this.”
“He wouldn’t have done shit. He would have either fought those guys or bullshitted his way out, and then walked it off until it happened again and he realized that wasn’t gonna work.”
“I thought about bullshitting but they seemed a little… anti-bullshit.”
Beau cracked her knuckles. “Better not be. All I’ve got is bullshit.”
He laughed. “I feel better about yours, then mine. They really don’t seem to like Lucien.”
No one does, Beau thought, but kept silent because the less Kingsley had to hear her say about Lucien, the better. She and the Nein wanted to shield him from that as much as they could. Fucking bastard, still causing problems.
---
Their arrival in Deastock was met with little preamble. Caleb and Essek retired to a tavern to wait, while Kingsley and Beau took off towards the forest, following the directions that Yudala had sent her.
“So apparently, the Wildemount Orders were funded by the Lorelei Family. Crazy.”
Kingsley looked over at her. “Who’re they?”
“Aw shit. I always forget you don’t know things.”
“I know. I’m just such an intellectual, it’s easy to think I know everything.” He shot her a wry smile.
“Fuck you, King.” She rolled her eyes, good-naturedly. “They’re this real fancy family that live in the forest around here somewhere- like they have a castle, and people were always like ‘ooooh don’t get too close to the castle because the Loreleis are crazy and they eat kids.’ I wanted to go so bad and I tried to hitchhike when I was ten to see if I could get to it.”
“How’d that go for you?”
“Eh, I couldn’t get anyone to pick me up, so I never even made it over the hills before my dad came and got me.” She frowned down at the paper. “Wonder what they have to do with the Orders, though?”
Kingsley hesitated. “What do you… Know about the Orders?”
“Just that they’re really secretive and Yudala did not want me advertising that I had this information. I think they’re like freelance mercenaries but… creepier. They’ve got…”
She trailed off.
“....Weird blood powers?” Kingsley offered.
“Yeah… Those.”
“Huh. So that’s where those came from, huh.” He went quiet again and Beau turned her full attention towards navigating through the forest.
Eventually, it opened up, revealing a massive clearing where a huge stone compound the size of a small university stretched out before them. It looked like someone had transplanted buildings from a city and dropped them into the woods with how out of place it was, and yet it slotted into the space perfectly. Something about the architecture leaned a little bit too hard into the aesthetic of the forest that surrounded it and she wondered how much of that was the Lorelei’s influence. A creepy religious compound in the woods with fancy architecture sounded like some crazy rich person business.
Kingsley stiffened. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
“Same,” Beau agreed. “Come on.”
There was no actual path leading to the main compound- just well maintained grass- and all around she could see people in cloaks and coats and robes of various shades of red meandering about on their way too and from the buildings. Instinctively, she tried to shield Kingsley as much as she could in the hopes that no one would notice him.
Yeah, right. She’d have better luck trying to hide an elephant. A purple tiefling stood out- a purple tiefling who was wanted for desertion definitely stood out.
They’d made it halfway before the pointing and whispering started. Swallowing, Beau grabbed Kingsley’s arm and bolted at full monk speed the distance to the compound in the hopes of preventing any immediate reactions. Kingsley staggered, dizzy from the surprise of being dragged that quickly, and leaned against a large statue of the Raven Queen that stood next to the main archway.
“That was subtle,” he muttered, rubbing his shoulder. His red eyes shifted around, taking in the glares and whispers directed his way.
“I didn’t wanna get tackled before we could get in the door,” she retorted. She shot the looky-loos trying to get their silvers’ worth of a show a dark glower and then steered Kingsley into the building. “Come on.”
---
Fear wasn’t an entirely new creature to Kingsley. He knew fear like an old friend. Being new to the world meant that there had been lot to be afraid of once, and while he’d like to think he’d gotten over most of it in favor of chasing every experience he could, there were times when it came for him. Mostly it was after his periodic nightmares.
And then there was every moment since he’d run from Ice-Eyes and his group in Port Damali.
He couldn’t say why it scared him so much. He couldn’t even explain why it was still scaring him. Something about this place, the feelings it dredged up, and the people who had been on that writ Ice-Eyes had shown him dug a deep hole in the pit of his stomach and filled it with lead. If he stood still too long, he thought he might just sink into the ground and stay there.
Fortunately, Beau kept him moving, kept him centered, kept him focused.
She stepped into the building, gripping his shoulder. For a place so thoroughly creepy, the main building looked no different from what he’d seen of the Cobalt Soul library. It was just a dimly lit lobby with people milling about down various halls, the walls covered in tapestries of people in armor and red cloaks slaying monsters, depicted in graphic, bloody detail. A desk stood at the side where a middle-aged human woman looked up briefly from her work and then did a double take. Kingsley winced, but it wasn’t him she was staring at- it was Beau.
“You must be Expositor Lionett,” the woman said, standing. “My name is Archivist Kerrigan. Yudala Fon sent word that you would be coming. They said you required information about former members of our Orders for a report.”
Kingsley tried his best to hide behind Beau as she laughed. “Well… Yeah, that was one of the reasons I came here, and that was, honestly, the only way Yudala would give me the information I needed, but I’ve also come here to clear a friend’s name. Seems you’ve got a warrant out for his arrest.”
Archivist Kerrigan raised an eyebrow. “We only put out warrants for the arrest of deserters, Expositor. I assure you, there is no clearing the names of those who leave these Orders.”
“It’s… Really complicated.” She stepped aside, revealing Kingsley, who just stood before the older woman with his tail between his legs, trying to look as innocent and not like someone who deserved to be arrested as possible.
It was a bit difficult, given he was still dressed like a pirate. Perhaps he should have changed beforehand…
It wouldn’t have mattered, probably. The look on the woman’s face when she took in the sight of him wouldn’t have changed even if he was wearing clown shoes. Her hand went to her chest. “Lucien?”
“Not… Technically,” Kingsley offered, a desperate edge creeping into his voice. Archivist Kerrigan ignored him, grabbing for a young woman in maroon and gray robes who had just walked in. “Taisa, go get Master Zacruck immediately.”
The girl nodded, wide-eyed, and when she had fled, the archivist turned to Beau, as if Kingsley were a prop to be ignored now that he’d struck horror into her heart. “There is a reward out for his capture, Expositor. Once Master Zacruck is here, he’ll see to it that you get paid.”
Kingsley felt that lead weight in his stomach increase.
“Whoa whoa whoa!” Beau snapped, throwing a hand out to shield him. “Fuckin’ hold on a second. I said I was here to clear his name, not turn him in.”
“You’ll find that there is very little evidence that would find him not guilty. The fact that he’s standing there, acting outside of these Orders, is enough.”
They kill people for leaving? Kingsley thought as he chewed on his bottom lip. And people think the Revelry is twisted.
“He’s not Lucien. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”
“I think, Expositor, that you’ll find that’s exactly who he is.”
Kingsley’s blood turned hot for a reason he couldn’t place when that booming voice called across the lobby, and it grew hotter still when his eyes followed the sound to see a broad-chested, mountain of a man with graying dark hair, a beard, and an eyepatch partially covering a scar down the entire left side of his face. He wore leather armor, a red cloak tossed carelessly over his left shoulder, and a broadsword nearly as wide as Kingsley’s entire body on his back.
“Master Derrin Zacruck, head of the Order of the Ghostslayer,” Archivist Kerrigan announced as the man strolled in, his dark eyes boring into Kingsley until he felt something inside of him might burst. He’d never met a person he just instinctively wanted to kill before, and yet...
Beau continued to put herself bodily between Kingsley and any harm. “I don’t want your damn reward money. I want to explain this situation. Are you gonna listen better than your Archivist friend over there?”
But Zacruck was ignoring her. “You look different, Lucien.”
“Would you believe me if I said this was all a big misunderstanding?” He offered, trying to push down the urge to light up his scimitars and throw down with this bastard.
“I don’t think you can talk yourself out of this one, my boy.”
Beau interjected again. “Oh my god, fuck off. You act like Lucien killed your families.” She paused. “...He didn’t, right? ‘Cause I am sorry if he did.”
“You’re doing great, Scribbles,” Kingsley muttered and got her elbow in his ribs for his trouble.
Zacruck finally pulled his focus from Kingsley to Beau. “I think you need to understand the situation a bit better.”
Beau was nearly a foot shorter than him, but she straightened up until she was as tall as she could possibly make herself, glowering up at him. “Funny… I was just about to say the same about you.”
---
Beau didn’t know this guy, but she hated him. She hated his stupid broadsword. She hated his stupid cloak. She hated his stupid goddamned eyepatch that actually made him look kinda cool seriously where could she get an eyepatch like that.
But, most of all, she hated the way he looked at King and the way King, in kind, looked like he was somewhere between rolling over and showing his belly or jumping over the desk to choke the guy out.
“Lucien left these Orders nearly eight years ago,” Zacruck was explaining. “And when he left he took four of our best hunters and one of our best clerics along with him- it was the largest desertion in the Claret Orders’ history. You might not know this, Expositor Lionett since your order deals in rooting out secrecy and takes exception to anything that thrives in it, but our Orders rely on secrecy.”
Beau put her palms on his desk and leaned forward. “The Cobalt Soul roots out corruption. It’s just that secrecy and corruption often go hand in hand. What’s so important here that you kill anyone who leaves?”
“You’ve seen his powers, haven’t you?”
She glanced behind her where Kingsley seemed to have taken a break from trying to hold back his murderous impulses to just look deeply concerned now. “Yeah. So what? It’s just magic.”
“Hemocraft is rare, and what we do here to cultivate that magic involves techniques that are…” He made a distasteful expression, “... questionable. If how we grant powers to our members got out, there would be people hunting us at one end and trying to steal our secrets at the other.”
Suddenly, Beau was reminded of the Vollstruckers. “And what’s so important about you guys that you think you’ve earned those secrets?”
On the other side of the desk, Zacruck leaned forward so they were nearly nose to nose. “We hunt monsters, which your Yudala Fon is well aware of. There is nothing in this organization that you could uncover that the Cobalt Soul has not already documented within reason. If they hadn’t, I sincerely doubt you could have found us.”
Beau made a soft, contemptuous hmph sound. “Sure, but that doesn’t change why I came here.”
“I was led to believe you were following up on a lead.”
“I am, yeah. And it’s about your missing members- they’re all dead, by the way. But, more importantly, it’s about him.” She jerked her thumb at Kingsley. “He might look like Lucien, but he has none of Lucien’s memories. He doesn’t know who the guy is. He doesn’t even know who you are. Look at him.” She turned to him. “King, do you know this guy?”
“I know I don’t like him,” Kingsley responded.
Zacruck snorted. “Neither did Lucien.”
“I don’t like you either,” Beau retorted. “Does that make me Lucien?”
He stepped out from behind the desk, then, and Beau, once more, tried to shift her body to protect King. “A person can lie. Blood doesn’t. What’s your esoteric rite?”
Kingsley blinked. “I… I have no idea what that means.”
“Your Blood Maledicts?”
Kingsley shook his head. “Look, I know this sounds insane, but yes, I can do… Whatever those things are, but I don’t know what they’re called or why I do them. I just do them.. I’ve never heard of you people, and if you want to keep your secrets, it was a better idea to just leave me alone, because I would have never even thought about any of it. I’ve never deserted anyone.”
“You kinda deserted us,” Beau said drily.
“Unhelpful! But yes… Besides that... That was complicated. I definitely didn’t desert anyone who would want me dead for it.”
Zacruck moved closer to Kingsley, all but forcing Beau to move or else get knocked over by the sheer mass of him. He leaned down until his one eye was level with those two creepy scarlet pools that every version of this tiefling bastard called eyes. “If you’re truly not Lucien, then you won’t recall the last thing I said to you right here in this office.”
Kingsley chewed on the inside of his cheek.
“But there’s no way Lucien, himself, would lie about not remembering it. I saw what it did to him that day.”
Beau watched as Kingsley seemed to be struggling with something and she couldn’t tell if he was struggling to remember or struggling to forget. Either one was damning in her eyes right now. With a desperate edge to her voice, she pleaded, “King…”
But Kingsley just shook his head, like a dog trying to get water out of his ears. “I don’t know. I feel… I feel something. I don’t like this place. It makes me so angry, and I don’t know why. I don’t remember why. I don’t want to remember why.”
Zacruck leaned back, taking this in. “You’re really not him.”
“As I’ve said. Numerous times.”
Zacruck ran a hand along his graying beard. “This is… unprecedented.” He looked over at Beau and she expected an apology, but what he got instead was just a, “I’ll need to speak with the heads of the other Orders.”
She followed him into the hall as he began to head out without another word. She'd won a single victory today, more than likely, but she hadn't bullshitted Yudala entirely. “About the other reason I came here… I want the files on Lucien. I know you have some.”
He didn’t stop walking. Only her monk training allowed her to keep pace with his strides. “And why would I give you those?”
“Because Lucien is gonna go down in history as a guy who almost ended the fucking world. I want to know everything about this guy.” She stepped into his space, forcing him to stop. “Right now, Lucien and his crew aren’t connected to the Claret Orders in any public Cobalt Soul records, but that could change in a heartbeat. What do you think the Empire will do if they find out this shady, off-the-books mercenary organization produced the five people who nearly destroyed all of it?”
He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t take kindly to blackmail, Expositor.”
“I don’t take kindly to you being a dick, either. We’re both having a really bad experience here today. I figure it’s better if we leave it on a positive note.”
Zacruck set his jaw. “I’ll get you the file, then.”
And Beau, smiling sweetly, just to be a dick, replied, “Thanks.”
---
A few moments later, Beau had a stack of papers in front of her and Kingsley was pacing the office like a man about to face the gallows. “This is… Insane. They know I have nothing to do with Lucien. They have to believe me. Why do they need to talk it out?”
“They believe you, King.” She had decided to, in an act of pure spite, apparently, sit on top of Zacruck’s desk while she read over pages and pages of meticulous notes on the bastard who wasn’t him. Every time he got close to the desk, he felt the need to skip back a bit, like his eyes might skim some detail on those pages. He was fine with Mollymauk’s stories. Those were wonderful. He didn’t want this one, this person who inspired so much fear and hatred, who made him feel so much fear and hatred. “It’s just stupid red tape shit.”
He worried his bottom lip with his teeth. “I wonder what he said that he thinks Lucien would remember.”
“Who knows?” She looked up. “You okay? You were squirming a little.”
“I… Did not feel good about any of that.” He shook his head again, like he was trying to dislodge the thoughts.
Any further conversation was mercifully halted, as the Archivist poked her head in, a look of deep incredulity on her face. “Master Zacruck says that… Mr. Tealeaf is free of all charges lobbied against Lucien. The warrant will be rescinded as all members of Lucien’s group have been pronounced deceased, courtesy of information given to us by the Cobalt Soul.”
Kingsley let out a whoop of laughter and hugged the Archivist around the middle, who froze in abject terror until he released her. “That’s wonderful news! And I bear no ill will towards the men who ruined my evening in Port Damali. They can buy me a drink and we’ll call it square.”
Archivist Kerrigan scowled. “Indeed.” And she slunk out the door.
Kingsley whirled to face Beau, beaming. “That’s great news isn’t it, Beau- Beau?”
She was staring down at the papers in her hand.
“Scribbles?”
She snapped out of it. “What? What? Oh… Right. No, shit. That’s great, King. Fuckin’ told you.”
“Couldn’t have done it without you.” He eyed her up and down. “You all right?”
She shook her head. “Yeah, I’m fine…. Hey, uh could you give me a second? Just, like, wait in the lobby or something, and try not to piss anyone off enough to put a warrant out on you again.”
He shot her a concerned look, but she shot him one right back that said, in no uncertain terms, that no, she wasn’t going to explain herself. “I make no promises.”
---
When Zacruck returned, Beau was leaning on his desk, shuffling the papers that made up Lucien’s file. “Pretty fascinating read, these.”
Zacruck grunted. “Did you find what you needed?”
“And then some.” She lifted the last page, “Arrogant, brash, careless, no respect for authority… You know, the crazy thing is? I can’t tell if I’m reading his profile or mine.”
“I fail to see your point, Expositor Lionett.” He brushed past her, and she whirled to keep her eyes on him.
“He was my age,” she said. “He was only a little younger than I was when I was forced to join the Cobalt Soul when you brought him here. All those things you said about him… Those are the exact same things the Soul said about me. Now you tell me why I’m an Expositor and he was so fucked up, he thought ending the world was a good idea.”
Zacruck settled into his chair, regarding her warily with his good eye. “I did everything I could for that boy.”
“No, you didn’t. You know how I know? Because Kingsley out there exists.” Mollymauk Tealeaf existed, she growled out in her head. “There was good in him and you didn’t even try to bring it out, in the end.”
“I feel like you’re projecting a bit.”
“Maybe I fucking am.” She slammed the papers back onto the desk. “But if it were me and you talked to me the way you talk about him in these notes, I’d probably try to end the damn world too.”
She turned to go, having said her piece “I’ll keep my word. Nothing in my report about Lucien’s connection to the Claret Orders will go public, and I don’t even fucking blame you for how he ended up. Hell, if he hadn’t ended up like that, I wouldn’t have two of the best people I’ve ever met. But maybe next time a hopped up arrogant piece of shit comes to you? You try to nurture that asshole into a decent asshole, instead of making them a bigger asshole. How about that?”
And with that, she walked away before he had a chance to defend himself.
She didn’t want to hear it.
---
“How was… whatever that was?” Kingsley asked as he and Beau exited the compound and began the long walk back to Deastock.
“Weirdly cathartic? And I’ve kinda got this feeling in the pit of my stomach-”
“Like a lead weight?”
“Yes!”
“Me too. Maybe we’ve caught something.”
Beau shoved him gently. The sky had darkened further since they had been inside and she could smell the rain on its way. She softened a bit, remembering what she’d been thinking about on the way here the last time she’d looked at the clouds. “Hey, King…?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you ever, like… Look at your life and think ‘holy shit I could have been a different person if I hadn’t met these people.’”
He shot her a look. “You mean like how I woke up with no memories and I could’ve been surrounded by a different bunch of assholes who encouraged me to be a different kind of asshole?”
She snorted. “Yeah, okay. Fair. That was a good jab. I dunno. I just… I guess something about this whole situation feels a little familiar.”
“That’s unfortunate.” He leaned over conspiratorially. “Maybe you are Lucien.”
He must have ignored the choked sound of her laughter, because he didn’t comment on it. She threw an arm around him, wrapping him in a headlock that he tried to squirm his way out of. “Come on, asshole. Let’s go find wherever Essek and Caleb holed up and make kissy faces at them until Caleb tries to polymorph us into turtles for revenge.”
Kingsley laughed and finally yanked his head free of her grip. “Best idea you’ve had all day.”
A soft rain began to fall as they headed back into the forest. Beau paused just outside the treeline right before the compound would fade from view. I could’ve been you, you fucker. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you were different. Maybe you were born bad.
Kingsley had gotten ahead of her and was calling for her. “Scribbles! Hurry up before you melt.”
I could’ve been you, though. I know I could’ve, so who fucking knows?
“Come on, Beauregard!”
She shook her head. Fuck you for making me relate to you, Lucien. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”
She cast one more look at the compound and then back at Kingsley, standing among the trees with his hands on his hips and a pout on his face, looking so much like Molly, it hurt in the good way. And thanks for leaving behind a couple of idiots worth being a better person for. At least you did something right.