A Villain's Survival Guide

Leomaris had no reason to panic, none whatsoever. He’d achieved something worth being proud of.

To everyone in the underground world, Jester of the End was part of his faction after all. His father had every reason to be proud. But he couldn’t help it. Fear had swallowed him whole, and even something as simple as breathing had become a struggle.

’What if he isn’t satisfied? Or... what if it’s my unholy presence?’

Leomaris held the envelope in his hand, head dipped slightly, eyes fixed on nothing but the pavement below.

Before him was an intimidating man. Golden hair. Piercing crimson eyes fixed squarely on Leomaris with a weight that nearly flattened him. Dressed in a black tuxedo, white shirt, elegant trousers, and boots Leomaris couldn’t dare look at.

A convoy of horse-drawn carriages stood behind him, every cabin marked with the Runerth family emblem. Leaning against one of them was a golden-haired man with blue eyes, puffing away on a cigar.

"Welcome, Father."

Leomaris said, respect plain in every word, all the while hoping his father wouldn’t bat an eye at the curse looming over him and would see only what he’d managed to achieve.

The towering six-foot-three man said nothing. He stared at Leomaris, as though deciding whether he was worth talking to at all. That alone was enough to send chills through him.

When he finally spoke, his tone was deep and daunting, the kind that had others stiffening in its presence without quite knowing why.

"When did you become a Sorcerer?"

Leomaris swallowed hard. It was a simple enough question, yet the feeling that he could anger Godfrey with any answer sat heavily on him. His words died in his throat for a beat before he forced them out.

"Over a week ago, Father."

Godfrey said nothing for a while. Even that was enough to unsettle Leomaris. Fear had him pinned in his bow, and on top of that, he couldn’t see Godfrey’s face, couldn’t judge for himself whether what sat on it was something worth being afraid of.

"I heard the notorious Jester of the End belongs to a faction called Mercy of Death. Is that faction really yours?"

"That’s correct, Father. I am the leader of Mercy of Death."

"Interesting..."

Leomaris couldn’t see it, but had he, a bit of that anxiety might have shifted. The man smiled, barely, but it was there. For someone known for nothing but strictness and cold indifference toward his children, that was a milestone by any measure.

"What are your goals?"

Leomaris’s throat went dry. He’d spent the time between learning of Godfrey’s visit and now planning out every answer, and yet, faced with the man himself, he was having to rethink the lot of it.

"My objective is to establish a hall of strength. Powerful sovereigns and organisations will be able to use it as a springboard for their ambitions. In doing so, the Runerth family will gain authority and influence over powerful leaders through me."

Godfrey glanced toward the man leaning against the cabin. The man gave a slight nod, and with that, Godfrey turned back to Leomaris and spoke.

"Caelus seeks an audience with the Jester of the End. Ensure all preparations are completed and be ready to meet him in about a month, before you depart the academy. The location will be delivered by telegram."

Leomaris caught the shadow of his hand reaching toward him and offered the envelope up respectfully.

He took it and didn’t wait for a word. With the elegance of a true noble and the presence of someone to be feared, he walked back to the carriages, and soon enough, they rolled away without so much as a backward glance.

Leomaris held his bow and didn’t straighten until the sound of wheels on cobblestone had died away entirely.

When he finally raised his head, conflicted was the only word for it. There was the relief of knowing Godfrey was satisfied, and then there was the weight of his final request and everything it dragged along with it.

"That was Uncle Caelus Sentinel, wasn’t it?"

Keeping his head bowed in his father’s presence had cost him a proper look at Caelus. Not that it mattered, from memory, he knew of only one Caelus. His father’s younger brother.

Godfrey hadn’t always been a Runerth. He’d started as Godfrey Sentinel, but after Revolutionary War II, a conflict of his own making that had set his reputation in stone within the underground world, he’d let Sentinel go and taken Runerth in its place.

To maintain an honourable reputation in the public eye after playing the hero in a war he’d started himself, he put it about that Runerth, meaning graveyard of stars, was his way of bearing the weight of every soul lost in the conflict.

The truth, however, was something he’d drilled into his children himself, Leomaris included. Runerth was no memorial. It was a graveyard for his enemies and anyone foolish enough to defy him.

Leomaris scratched his head, dazed.

"The Sentinel family has little to do with the underground world, but they’re soldiers through and through. Unlike Godfrey, they’re fanatical about justice, and I have every reason to believe they have members among the Secret Detectives. So why would Caelus want to meet a criminal?"

He bit his finger in irritation. The Jester of the End meeting him wasn’t the problem. What bothered him was the intention buried beneath this forceful meeting.

—

—

The room was dimly lit, shelves climbing to the ceiling across two walls, the desk buried under sheets, books, and a typewriter.

Alicia sat behind the desk. Her cadet uniform was gone save for the black waistcoat, white sleeves rolled up to the elbow, cravat tight at her neck.

Her military overcoat hung over her chair. She faced the window to her left, a white barrack cap in her lap, the stained glass bleeding the sun’s reddish glow across her face.

By the entrance stood a figure dressed head to toe in black, face covered, identity unknown.

By the wall where the clock hung was Alora, white-blonde hair done neatly, a cadet uniform on, and a jerky between her teeth.

The mysterious individual’s eyes locked on Alicia Silverbird and spoke.

"The notorious figure known as the Jester of the End is reportedly a member of Leomaris’s faction, Mercy of Death. While I possess no direct evidence to substantiate this claim, the information originated from a highly reliable source."

Alicia sat with the words, violet eyes still fixed on the window. She had no shortage of questions about how Leomaris had managed to secure Jester of the End’s loyalty and no way of answering them. What she did know, without a shadow of a doubt, was that Leomaris was fast becoming a proper threat to her reputation at the academy. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

She moved. Her eyes went to Alora first, then found the mysterious figure.

"Keep trailing him. Next time, bring me something useful. Something that will get rid of him."

Alora swallowed her jerky in one go. She felt the chill of her words, and it was getting too much for her liking.