"The two prime movers in the universe are time and luck."
- Kurt Vonnegut, Hocus Pocus
Rubble remains greeted the Barrister as he stepped out of his front door. A gaping hole in the streetscape, one that should have brought no small measure of relief. Instead, it mocked him, teased him. He was being too cautious, it whispered at him. He was looking a gift-horse in the mouth, it teased. It was poet justice, it cooed. He shook his head to chase those thoughts away as he walked past the exploded remains of the DCH's offices.
Lucien looked up at the rebuilt Courthouse, bustling with activity as if nothing had happened. It almost seemed like a lifetime ago in a realm where memories were often short-lived. Out of sight, out of mind as it were, for objects as well as people. And he was just as guilty of it. He drew a deep breath and adjusted the wrapped packaged that was tucked into the crook of his arm. He carried no briefcase this day. The Courthouse was not his destination and he turned to the west and headed north.
The Barrister's gait slowed as he walked through the gates leading to the North Road. Gywr had suggested he take the carriage, but Lucien had refused. It was too fine a day to waste in a carriage, he'd told his faithful manservant. The truth was, he needed the walk.
A deep breath was drawn against the weight already pressing against his chest as he neared the Empress' villa and the Sanctuary. He swallowed down the tinny taste of blood that rose in the back of his throat. He closed his eyes briefly against the crimson veil that wavered before his eyes. He shook his head to block out the airy melody that was starting to play in his memory. Another deep breath was drawn as he continued heading north toward the round-about. Not all memories were as short-lived as he'd like.
Nevertheless, those were to be revisited another day. The House gates came into view. This day's visit was for other matters.
Lucien stepped up to the guard at the gate. "I am here to see Lady Belial."
Rubble remains greeted the Barrister as he stepped out of his front door. A gaping hole in the streetscape, one that should have brought no small measure of relief. Instead, it mocked him, teased him. He was being too cautious, it whispered at him. He was looking a gift-horse in the mouth, it teased. It was poet justice, it cooed. He shook his head to chase those thoughts away as he walked past the exploded remains of the DCH's offices.
Lucien looked up at the rebuilt Courthouse, bustling with activity as if nothing had happened. It almost seemed like a lifetime ago in a realm where memories were often short-lived. Out of sight, out of mind as it were, for objects as well as people. And he was just as guilty of it. He drew a deep breath and adjusted the wrapped packaged that was tucked into the crook of his arm. He carried no briefcase this day. The Courthouse was not his destination and he turned to the west and headed north.
The Barrister's gait slowed as he walked through the gates leading to the North Road. Gywr had suggested he take the carriage, but Lucien had refused. It was too fine a day to waste in a carriage, he'd told his faithful manservant. The truth was, he needed the walk.
A deep breath was drawn against the weight already pressing against his chest as he neared the Empress' villa and the Sanctuary. He swallowed down the tinny taste of blood that rose in the back of his throat. He closed his eyes briefly against the crimson veil that wavered before his eyes. He shook his head to block out the airy melody that was starting to play in his memory. Another deep breath was drawn as he continued heading north toward the round-about. Not all memories were as short-lived as he'd like.
Nevertheless, those were to be revisited another day. The House gates came into view. This day's visit was for other matters.
Lucien stepped up to the guard at the gate. "I am here to see Lady Belial."