Four Idiots in an Alley

1329 AE

 

“Zero Balthis?” Sounded from a cool, quiet voice somewhere behind the young man. 

The pit fighter uneasily cracked open a single eye, annoyed that his light nap in the blazing Lion’s Arch’s midday sun, leaned back and upright against his shoddy house, had been disturbed. 

“You really just fall asleep anywhere, don’t you?” The same voice cooed. Opening another eye, Zero glanced around. Who exactly was speaking? Anxiety kicked his heart into an unsteady rhythm. This couldn’t be the work of his parents, right? His assassin assured him that they were certainly dead.

He crossed his right arm across his body, reaching for his sword’s hilt on his hip, but it was suddenly stopped by a slender hand materializing out of thin air. Each finger was barbed with claw-like thorns, and when he jumped and tried to pull away, they simply dug in and refused to let go. Not even a moment later, the hand’s owner revealed herself to be a small, cloaked autumnal sylvari woman with tree branches for hair, who wore a mask that reached up and covered her left eye, leaving only a single smoldering orange eye to stare intently into his. Ignoring the blood welling up around her claws and dripping off his arm, she appeared to smile beneath her mask. “You need to come with me.”

Scanning her over with his dark, weary eyes, he caught the pale glinting of many sharp blades on the inside of her leaf-lined red cloak. His chest was pounding faster now, and beads of sweat were starting to appear on his face. This girl seemed well-trained, and he had no desire to cause a public scene. Yet, if somehow Divinity’s Reach figured out where he was hiding... 

Holding his free hand up submissively, he slowly rose to his feet and allowed himself to be herded along like cattle, still held by the arm by the sylvari, but with the added luxury of not being stabbed by those thorns anymore. They walked briskly down several narrow alleyways and made so many turns that he was beginning to feel lost even in his own city. His… companion never said another word. This did seem to be a rather quiet part of the port city, he thought. That could mean several things. Either she wanted to kill him with minimal witnesses, or she wanted something else. Moving deeper into Lion’s Arch, though… It did not seem like she was attempting to take him back to his home city. 

Wanting to kill him in a deserted part of town was still a very worrying possibility, though. Probable as well. 

When she finally slowed to a halt, they’d found themselves within a dead end alleyway. No doubt strategic, considering he’d have nowhere to run. She’d let go of him, but remained between him and the rest of the city, standing idly. He braced himself for attack, resting his hand on his hilt while he willed his breath to remain steady. This was unlike his routine pit fights. This sylvari was an unknown threat with an unknown motive, and it was so incredibly unnerving that she looked at him like she was a cat, and he was her next meal. 

“Zero Balthis,” She said, finally breaking the silence. 

“That is my name, yes.” He replied, satisfied that he was hiding his fear well. 

“With a name like that… I wonder if you are blessed by your Balthazar,” She mused, seeming to smile once more. “I’ve seen you fight… you are quite good. But your face is still too pretty, your hands and muscles still a bit too slender. The other boys your age all look a bit… rougher, do they not? I suppose it’s only been, what, five or six years for you? You still have quite some catching up to do if you want to lose your silver spoon appearance.” 

Zero felt his blood run cold, but he willed his face to remain straight, if not slightly perplexed, as he said, “I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean by that.”

“Even after five years, you haven’t realized that you speak too formally for a kid who supposedly grew up on the streets of Lion’s Arch.” 

“What do you mean by ‘supposedly’, Ma’am? I did,” He shot back, feeling his shoulders tighten. 

“Does the name “Felicity Rosato” ring any bells to you, boy?” She asked gleefully, tilting her head at him. “What would you do if I said we were holding her hostage?” 

He felt rage boil in his stomach, and couldn’t hide a slight jerk of his head in his outrage, but he forced himself to cool it. To play it off. “I’d ask you to release her. The name is unfamiliar to me, but I don’t think the art of keeping hostages is an ethical one. I’m sure she would like to return home.” 

“It’s the same home as yours, is it not? The Rurikton district of Divinity’s Reach?” 

“No. My home has always been here. Are you listening?”

Any traces of her mirth suddenly evaporated, and she now appeared bored. “Allow me to tell you a story, Zero Balthis, or I suppose, that’s just your stage name. Allow me to call you as your friends do: Nox,” She jabbed as she pulled out a clipboard from under her cloak. “A noble human child was born of Countess Liesel Laroux and Count Myron Laroux nineteen years ago. When the boy was thirteen, his school caught fire in a sudden attack on the city. He never made it out of the blaze, and was soon after pronounced dead. However, the boy had managed to escape, likely through the sewers of Divinity’s Reach, and ended up here, in Lion’s Arch. He changed his name, entered an orphanage, and fabricated his identity. Now he works as a gladiator with such talent he’s been said to rival Logan Thackeray’s early days.” She lowered her notes as she returned her gaze to him, chiefly clicking her tongue. “Does none of this sound familiar as well, Dorian Laroux?”  

He cursed himself for hesitating a moment as he said, “I’m sorry. It doesn’t. I’m not this Dorian you’re looking-“ He froze as a shrill voice he recognized shouted in surprise.

“DORIAN?” 

Looking over his shoulder with a wince, he saw Felicity staring incredulously around the corner at him. He offered a half-hearted wave and a polite smile, hoping she’d take the hint and see the many knives sitting on the belts of his company, as well as the one being casually pointed around by the intense sylvari in front of him. 

“What’s going on… Are you…? Is this a mugging? Ah, oh! What should I do? Ma’am you can have my money, I have plenty!” Felicity said breathlessly, fumbling with her coin purse.  

He sighed, ignoring the amused glint in his apparent mugger’s single visible eye. The lithe sylvari turned, and Dorian followed her gaze, and found himself looking at another human man who was only a step behind his old friend. Although he undoubtedly was also armed to the teeth, he did not appear to be threatening her in any way, meaning she came with him willingly. The thought made him relax a little. 

The other man was also cloaked like the sylvari, except he was covered head to toe in dark, tight fitting leathers, and his face was mostly obscured by a mask covering everything below his nose, and his eyes hiding in the shadows of his hood. All of this was in stark contrast to the many brilliant colors of the autumnal sylvari between them, who seemed to want to stand out in comparison. 

From behind Felicity, he sighed. “No, Mr. Laroux is not being mugged. He is not in danger,” He said pointedly to Dorian, noting his discomfort with an off-puttingly sharp glance. “I apologize for my partner’s threatening demeanor, however, there are things that cannot be discussed where anybody can hear them. We appreciate your cooperation.” 

Feli glanced between everybody gathered, growing more confused by the moment. “What is there to be discussed? Dori, do you know who they are? And why did you ask me to come all the way here, Mr. Arth?” 

Answering for the apparent ‘Arth’, the smaller cutthroat chuckled a little bit. “It’s simple. We need Mr. Laroux for his intel, but he won’t speak unless he knows you won’t be collateral damage, Ms. Rosato. For the record, I wasn’t lying when I said we were holding her hostage. No harm will come to her, but she will not be leaving our custody until you help us to your fullest extent. 

Dorian seemed to deflate in resignation, then. Intel, huh. I figured it would come to this eventually, if not my death. “Considering one of you isn’t human, It’s unlikely you’re Shining Blade, right?” 

“Order of Whispers,” Arth replied. Explains the unorthodox methods, then. “Lightbringer Arth, and Lightbringer Aurelia.” 

Lightbringers…? How high-profile is this situation then? 

It didn’t matter.

Swallowing his dry throat, he shook his head, feeling trapped. “I can’t. I swore to never involve myself in White Mantle business ever again. My parents are dead, can’t that be enough? I want to be left out of this.”

“They aren’t.” Aurelia replied, somewhat unkindly. 

“What?” Felicity questioned, earning another glance from the female Lightbringer. 

Dorian felt his blood freeze, and opened his mouth, unable to get any words out for a moment. “But my friend said--”

“Your charr friend lied to you, then.” She snapped. Searing anger shot through Dorian, replacing the phantom chill from the moment before. 

“Oh, so you really want me to willingly put a huge target on my back then, huh!” He shouted, at which Aurelia seemed to sneer.

“As if there hasn’t been one this entire time. Don’t be a fool, Mr. Laroux. You might’ve been able to fool them in the beginning, but they’re well aware you’re alive.”

He set his hand on his sword hilt again, as if he was contemplating just fighting his way out. Only a worried look at Felicity had him hesitating. “I don’t give a shit what you two do, I’m not saying anything. I’m not involving myself any further than the things I had no choice in-”

There was the sound of a knife being unsheathed, a flash of steel reflecting the sunlight, and then there was a blade pressed to Feli’s throat. She flinched backwards, only to find herself stumbling into Arth’s solid chest. Fury erupted on Dorian’s face at the same time she threw a desperate look up at the mild-mannered agent. To the gladiator’s surprise, Arth firmly gripped Aurelia’s thin arm and pushed it away, looking vaguely disappointed. “Enough of that, Aurelia.” He said with a sudden amount of authority to his partner. “He has many valid reasons to want nothing to do with human politics anymore.” Displeasure glinted hard in her eye, but she sheathed the knife as quickly as she’d drawn it, and folded her arms with a dramatic turn-up of her nose. Felicity sighed in relief and hastily stepped away from the two. “Mr. Laroux, I’m sure you’ve heard by now the White Mantle activity discovered in the Bloodstone Fen in northern Maguuma.” He paused, allowing Dorian time to nod in such a way that suggested he’d known much longer than the rest of the world. “And that Minister Caudecus finally came clean about his allegiance and defected from the Ministry, effectively declaring war on Queen Jenna.” 

Another nod. 

“Your parents followed suit after your friend’s attempt on their lives, presumably leaving him alive to trick you into thinking they were truly dead to buy some time. However, now they are at Caudecus’ right hand, commanding some of his White Mantle forces. You understand how those two think better than anybody else. While this war is inevitable at this point in time, with your insight we can plan accordingly and, with any luck, minimize the amount of casualties of the upcoming battles.”

Arth tried his best to speak in a soothing, understanding tone, but Dorian looked anything but. In fact, he was growing so frustrated, he looked as if he were about to cry. “Idon’t want to,” was all he managed to say, sounding heartbreakingly small. It seemed like he was truly terrified of his mother and father. Arth didn’t say anything else. Tactful speaking, when charged with emotions, was unfortunately neither Arth or Aurelia’s strong suits. 

But then, Aurelia spoke up again. “Do you doubt the Order’s ability to defend you?” She still did not sound kind, but she was eyeing him carefully, as if figuring out where she could push him, where she could goad him into complying. 

“I don’t doubt the Order’s strength,” He spat out, miserably avoiding eye contact. “I just… I heard about what happened to Demmi when she started rebelling. I’m not stupid. I know my mom and dad only kept me alive these past few years because I wasn’t trying to undermine the-” He cut off indignantly when Aurelia suddenly started laughing very loudly, doubling over slightly with her entire small frame shaking with each laugh. The other three stared at her incredulously, Arth thinking she finally lost it and snapped, but she straightened as her laughter slowly died, and looked Dorian dead in the eye. 

“Dorian Laroux, I can’t blame you for that, but if you think Demmi Beetlestone suffered at the hand of her father for her insolence you are sorely misunderstanding the situation. Demmi Beetlestone is alive and well, and is operating within our ranks to this day. In fact, I would argue that she is thriving better than she ever has before. So tell me, do you doubt the Order’s ability to defend you?” 

Dorian was silent for a very long moment, mouth slightly agape at the revelation. He glanced at Arth, who silently nodded confirmation. Then, he buried his eyes into a palm, drew in a lengthy and shaking breath and began laughing, himself. Felicity finally spoke up, making her way over to Dorian’s side, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Dori, are you alright?” 

“Would you like for us to take you to see her, Mr. Laroux?” Arth quietly asked. He felt a little foolish. How much better it would’ve been to begin the conversation with this? Maybe even bring Demmi along in person? Both him and Aurelia were fools to overlook the sympathy and solidarity the two kids would’ve had for each other, growing up in such similar homes. 

“If I talk at all, I’m only telling Demmi,” He replied firmly. Both agents nodded, respecting that condition. “Where is she?”

“The Chantry of Secrets. We will guide both of you there,” Arth began, but tilted his head in curiosity when he saw Dorian hesitate. 

“What about Yrene? They know about her too, I can’t just leave her alone in the city.”

“Your pit-fighting partner, with the quarterstaff and long pink hair? I believe she’s on her way here already. I don’t think she would read an anonymous letter about you being dragged into business for a few days and simply stay home without a worry,” Arth remarked dryly. The sound of a pistol cocking echoed from down the alley behind him, and he smiled widely beneath his mask. “Speak of the devil.” 

Yrene’s pale green eyes carefully scanned the scene before her, and landed on Dorian’s tired expression. Her finger tightened on her trigger, but she seemed to be waiting for him to give a signal. He never did.

“Yrene, it’s fine. Everything’s fine.” He said, although he sounded defeated.

Bewildered, Yrene slowly lowered her pistol and hesitantly walked towards the crowd. Seeing that Dorian was indeed unharmed, she sheathed it entirely and loomed threateningly over Arth and Aurelia. Felicity stared up at her with wide eyes. “What’s this about then?”

“Mutual aid,” Aurelia responded, uncowed by the nornish daredevil’s towering size and presence. “We’re taking the three of you to the Order of Whispers’ headquarters. Of course you’ll need to swear to secrecy of the location before we arrive, but no need to waste any more time standing around here. Let’s go kids,” She sang, and clapped once, effectively cloaking them in stealth, and began leading the way. 

Yrene stood, dumbfounded, but allowed herself to be herded when Dorian grabbed her wrist and began to pull her along. He didn’t seem to want to talk at all, but he did offhandedly comment to her that everything was relatively okay, and that he’d explain later. As much as she wanted to ask all of her burning questions, she ultimately kept her mouth shut. 

They watched the two cloaked strangers bicker between themselves as they walked, and started to get the sense that it was less of true annoyance with each other, and more of a comforting default. Though they said mean things, there was no true heat behind any of them. Yrene examined them a little bit closer.

Order of Shadows, huh? Knowing that didn’t make her feel any better for Dorian’s sake. They were notorious for sticking their noses into matters that shouldn’t concern them, while carrying a holier-than-thou attitude all the while.

Felicity was busy scanning the norn up and down, making various displeased facial expressions. She wasn’t aware that Dorian had made such a… pretty and badass lady friend while he’d been away from home. It made her feel quite lame in comparison. She looked at Dorian as well, noting with a slight flush how much he’d grown up. 

Yrene caught her gaze with a squint of her own. Dorian never talked about his past, but he’d mentioned an old dear friend once or twice. This was her? The dainty princess type?

Dorian, oblivious to all of this, glanced between the two of them rather glumly, and gave his head a little shake. “Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon. One way or the other.”

They both seemed to want to scold him for the pessimism, but ultimately held their tongues. 

Not one of them spoke for the remainder of the trip South.