Chapter Twenty

Vito looked in the mirror.

Was he doing a good job as the newly appointed boss? Hades seemed to think so, and though they had their numerous complaints, his siblings would probably err on his side.

But none of them was who he needed to hear it from. He looked up then, at the portraits on his wall that he had avoided making eye contact with since it had become his office. Since his father had been killed.

Shalkes Vinbutton stared back at Vito with the familiar austere expression. Every time he looked in the mirror, he saw the features he had stolen from his father, and memories sparked like a lighter.

But this lighter was dangerous. If the fire caught, there was no amount of water in the world that could hope to contain it, and Vito couldn't risk being so thoroughly burnt at the moment.

Yet he couldn't tear his eyes away. He managed not to catch aflame completely, but his blood boiled as the seconds passed and his hero stared unblinking, unresponsive, in his time of need. His right hand fell, and he found his rapier, resting his hand on the sheath until he heard and felt the dim heartbeat.

Since discovering it, he liked to think of it as his father's. His last act: protecting him through the rapier, even behind the constraints of death.

It was delusional. Vito was much too practical not to see that, but that didn't stop his imagination from growing wings and twisting his reality to what he wished the world was.

It was a weird thing to accept; the death of someone so close to you who played a key part in molding your very being. Their present absence was equally haunting and terrifying, because they could be seen in every thought, reaction and sunrise you experienced, yet you pretended not to see them, because accepting their end meant not dwelling and being pulled down alongside them.

That was Bekah's problem, Vito surmised. She didn't know how to stay away from those waves, and now Vito felt himself fighting against a storm of his own.

The act of murder was laughable in its wake. What made his plight any different from the families of the two shapeshifters he had killed? Or the unfortunate Lafon soldier who had chosen to relieve himself in the bushes and never saw the agent of death arrive.

It hurt his head to consider that he was creating more Vitos. More Jekios. More Bekahs. Families who had to learn to close their eyes and walk through this sorrowful storm.

How could this man in the mirror expect to bear the weight of so many broken families for something as futile as survival?

The landline rang, shattering the trance the portrait had cast on Vito. He didn't move immediately, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes as he steeled himself. Despite the darkness his eyelids provided, the image of his father's face didn't disappear, forever ingrained in his mind's eye.

"Yes?" he answered, his voice carrying its usual steady cadence.

"Valko has passed along that Kaida is at the door, sir. He said she seems especially eager at the moment."

Vito rubbed at his temple. Valko had pointed out that Kaida was the most dangerous resident in the Tide; she was the identifier of shapeshifters, which meant she couldn't be identified. If a skilled shapeshifter were to compromise her, it was practically impossible to detect until the damage was done.

As a result, she was only allowed as far as the doors, as suggested by Valko. Though Vito thought her current visit was largely pointless.

"I'll be down in a moment."

He didn't dare risk another look at the mirror, but given that he had been about to leave the manor anyway, he was fully suited up. He felt the eyes of his father burning into his back, and dreaded that he couldn't tell if it was out of pride or disappointment.

That was the last thought he allowed before he locked back the locket and threw it in the cage of his chest cavity.

He spared a smile for Rosia as he passed her open door and she returned it. Upon pushing open the double doors, he caught a glimpse of the conversation outside.

"I still don't see why I'm being treated like an enemy." Kaida's voice, Vito deciphered.

"You're not, lady. Just can never be too careful recently," Valko replied.

"Agreed," Vito added, announcing his presence.

Valko gave him a respectful nod and Kaida looked at Vito with what he swore was excitement. "This lady appears to strongly dislike the fact she can't trot up the stairs and enter your office at will, boss."

"The lady can file a complaint to my secretary; we'll be sure to answer in a...sometimes timely manner."

Kaida grumbled at the men's banter, but a faint smile traced her lips.

"What was so pressing that you came here when you know I would soon be on my way?" Vito asked, switching back to his usual business disposition.

To his surprise, Kaida's round cheeks reddened. "I haven't had the chance to properly thank you for all that you've done yet."

"Probably because this isn't the time. Lafon and his army are still very much alive," Vito responded immediately.

"Regardless," Kaida stressed in a tone that indicated annoyance at being interrupted, "I felt it important to thank you now." She looked down and Vito noticed her hand was closed over something. She opened her palm slowly, like a budding flower, revealing a gold-plated watch.

Vito raised an eyebrow. It seemed too expensive for a rebellion leader to have the funds to splurge on. Vito was no jeweller, but having grown up around the trade of fake gold, he could tell the difference for the most part. If this wasn't real, it was a convincing duplicate.

The question must've shown in his eyes. "I was given this watch. You could say in our district, watches are plentiful. Adherents of the rebellion often offered watches as donations, instead of coins."

"Would they be pleased that you're giving away one to me?"

"If they have sense. Besides, what's a dark overlord without a watch to set the aesthetic? None of those old watches I see your people with that doesn't even have a clasp. This is more fitting."

"Dark overlord?" he asked uncertainly. He took the offering carefully and looked to Valko.

The older man chuckled. "I figure she does have a point, boss. Reflects the sun well."

Vito observed it closely, wondering if there was possibly a catch; perhaps a tracker embedded in the framework, or worse - a bomb. He clasped it around his wrist for the moment, feeling slightly ridiculous.

Kaida chuckled, clapping her hands together as if he were a doll she had dressed up right. "Dashing, I must say."

Vito studied her outfit: a crystal teal blouse with sharp white pants. Hardly anyone wore white in the district if they could avoid it, as it was bound to get dirty. He suddenly wondered if her liking his 'aesthetic' was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Are you ready, Valko?" he asked.

Valko cast a hesitant glance back at the double doors, then nodded. Vito figured he was thinking of Bekah's safety, who was still inside. "I don't mean to sound disrespectful. boss, but are you sure your brother is up for this?"

"I am." Vito's tone left no further room for discussion and Valko dipped his head in acknowledgement.

Normally, Vito would agree that giving Jekio a security post was careless thinking, but he knew his brother well. He had taken his inability to fight back against Lafon hard, as he did most things. When his brother faced a challenge, his usual love for partying took a backseat behind his fierce competitiveness. This had especially been the case when he had started boxing training.

However, this was a different challenge altogether. He couldn't simply lose himself in training and workouts to best this foe because of what he considered 'cheating'. Whether it was or not, the level of improvement needed was past his human limitations and it was clear to everyone that this frustrated Jekio to no end.

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Luckily, Jekio didn't turn to liquor when he was frustrated, though that was perhaps what one would expect. Instead, he was quite the opposite. Frustration caused him to contemplate and search for a way to scale his obstacle.

The way Vito saw it, his brother now faced a crossroads that could very well end up being a dead end. However, Vito was too busy preparing for a war to pamper his older brother.

The trio walked over to the Tide in silence, except for Kaida's occasional complaint of mosquito bites. Vito was deep in thought about a million things at once and he was happy that Kaida didn't try to engage him in conversation. As they arrived in the Tide, it became clear to Vito that a certain atmosphere of apprehension hung over the area like an invisible mist.

Smiles surfaced as he was noticed, but the troubled looks didn't simply vanish from their eyes. Naturally, Vito hadn't demanded that his people not tell their families about the war on the horizon. After all, there was no guarantee they would return.

Vito noted Valko's reception as well. Now that he didn't spend as much time at the Tide, the residents seemed eager to catch up with him. More than once, kids ran up to Valko to wrap him up in a hug or talk excitedly with him.

"A man of the people, huh?" Vito commented.

Valko smiled proudly. "I guess. I just try to treat everyone fairly and these lovely people appreciate my efforts."

Vito nodded. "As do I."

Kaida looked on with a warm look. "This little community reminds me of the rebellion camp. In a district where people lost the ability to think for themselves, they were the only real people."

"Community?" Vito asked, thinking of her small crew. "What happened to the rest of them?"

Kaida's face soured. "Some died. Most ran."

"Then they were indeed real. Choosing dishonor over death is the most real human reaction; we are programmed for self-preservation, not choosing to die for a cause."

Valko chuckled gruffly. "Then what are we, boss? Some odd chips off the pale executioner's block?"

"We're the brave ones. Perhaps too brave." Vito squinted as he spotted a crowd in front of the game's den. He noted that Kaida's crew had already arrived. "We're braver than any human should be asked to be."

"Sometimes I wonder if you're the thirty year old," Valko said with a whistle.

"That's just a consequence of being forced to grow up early," Kaida commented with a knowing smile that lacked humor.

They arrived at the game den and sure enough, Kaida's crew waited for them. They wore their usual camo gear, opting not to wear their peculiar district attire like Kaida, though their outfit was peculiar in its own way. Mikey's mouth curled into a smirk when he saw Vito absently rubbing his shoulder. Somehow, it didn't hurt during his training, but at random times, he felt the shape sensation Hades had called phantom pain.

"I must say, I enjoy watching you get smacked around in the courtyard," Mikey commented.

"Is that so? Perhaps I'll let you get a turn then." The skinny man's smirk fell at that.

Vito felt Laze's sharp eyes studying him before he spoke. "Do you have eyes on Lafon and his army?"

"No," Vito responded. "They are shooting down our drones on sight. Deploying anymore will be a waste of machinery." Their drones were large and bulky, making it easy to detect from the ground if you knew what to look for. Evidently, Lafon and his main army were more prepared than their scouting group had been.

"Or we could continue using them periodically so that we can gauge their position based on where the drones are destroyed."

Vito offered him a nod. "Good idea. You use your own infinite source of drones and carry out that plan."

Laze frowned, a sliver of surprise slithering onto his face. "Now is not the time to be stingy with resources."

Vito considered pointing out that he was not Kaida, a leader who practically allowed others to lead at times. "Enough talk of Lafon. These next few hours are to ease our minds, not discuss the very topic that has us on edge," he said instead.

"Agreed," Carlo offered. "I'm keen to see what games such a district plays. Gambling is heavily frowned upon in our district."

"Then suit up and enter the vile halls of debauchery," Vito announced, sweeping his hand toward the door.

As one would expect, the rebellion crew was thoroughly outclassed by the Crimson Tides, who had been playing the various games practically as soon as they'd gained consciousness. Laze fared best out of them.

Vito understood a lot from the way men played cards. Laze was a thinker, though this was no surprise. Despite being a novice, he was not someone to disregard. His poker face was deceptive; one may think they saw a tell, only to realize it was a trap to lure in persons.

He could be dangerous.

Carlo was surprising. His actual execution was raw as he struggled to gather the concepts and counterplays, but his poker face was impervious. Not once could Vito guess if he had a bad hand or a good one. Vito had considered him simply an easygoing soldier, but there appeared to be more under the surface.

Mikey was loud without much substance. His plays were straightforward and routinely predictable. He didn't seem capable of pondering before plays, or rather didn't have the patience to, though he remained energetic and passionate throughout.

Fidd was an emotionless pond. Not a single ripple dared breach his surface at any point of the game, try as Vito might to skip a sharp stone on it. He made no attempts at attacking other players' hands; else, Vito would've considered him better than Laze because he seemed well-versed in the art of defense.

On the other hand, Kaida was a mess. She lacked a desire to win and found herself more focused on wolfing down food than competing. Vito couldn't be sure why the sight disappointed him so much.

Vito himself didn't utilize the time to think as he usually did. He couldn't turn off the analyzing part of his brain, but by focusing it on the rebellion crew, he had a period where he didn't think of Lafon for what felt like the first time in months.

It felt revitalizing.

As the ink blanket of midnight hung over the Crimson Tides courtyard, the sound of steel clashing steel did not rest.

Vito whirled on a sombreo-wielding blur, only now he was much less of a blur than he had been the day before. The man blocked Vito's thrust with one of his swords, then pushed down the rapier with considerable strength. Vito fought against it, both of the blades beginning to shake in a battle that was just as much will as strength.

Draven had left out an important detail of how legendary weapons worked. The more you used their power, the stronger your connection became - and by extension, your basic ability. Of course, the information he had given was gold. Now, with the constant link Vito maintained to his rapier, he felt appreciably more powerful.

But this was what Draven wanted. With a grin, he leapt, never releasing his sword as he landed on both the sword and rapier, held up by Vito's enhanced strength. Before Vito could drop his hand, Draven thrusted his second sword forward.

Draven was probably aiming for Vito's cheek to leave a light cut instead of a killing blow, but Vito still felt the pulse of his rapier quicken. The world itself seemed to slow when that happened. He saw the pathway of Draven's blade and bobbed his head out of the way. Draven's smile faltered as Vito slipped his rapier out from under Draven's sword and, by extension, him.

He fell ungracefully, his eyes widening with panic. That was new. Vito bent to place his sword against the boy's neck to claim his first spar win. It was a mistake. In his desire not to injure Draven, he lowered his guard and paid the price. Draven hit the ground hard enough to bounce off of it, but he ignored the jolt of the impact, swinging a foot that swept Vito off his.

Suddenly it was his turn to hit the ground and he opened his eyes to Draven pointing his sword at him. "Checkmate, pal. This is the part where Sally here skins you like a potato and John slices you into edible pieces." Draven had gone as far as naming his swords - the maniac.

Vito couldn't even express his frustration as his enhanced adrenaline faded and he felt a wave of fatigue. He had been getting even less sleep than usual and maintaining a connection with a legendary weapon appeared to be taxing; another point Draven had failed to mention.

Still, he had proven to be a capable teacher, if Vito's improvement was any indication.

"What do you think is your strongest trait?" Draven asked after a few moments.

Vito considered the question. "My speed?"

Draven snorted. "Your speed isn't bad, but it is not exceptional - like one would call mine. Your reaction speed on the other hand, is perhaps the fastest I've had the pleasure of going up against. You may end up being a worthy spar partner, yet."

Vito almost chuckled. Here he was, stressing over the marching army with his districts in their sights and all Draven was worried about was having a worthy spar partner. It was clear to everyone, no matter their level of observation, that Draven was a fight fanatic. It should be declared an unhealthy obsession, but Draven was so powerful that there was hardly any risk to his health within the confines of the district.

Truly, after sharing blades with him, there was no doubt in Vito's mind that he was the strongest weapon he had against Lafon and his army.

"Who taught you how to fight?" Vito asked curiously. Much of the boy's past was unknown despite his light tongue.

Draven's face darkened and as the seconds ticked on, Vito became convinced there was no response coming. He didn't take offense to it; the question was personal, far too personal for many who had escaped to District 35. Vito figured the hours of fairly friendly sparring had loosened him up.

"My father," Draven said finally, the usual bright, energic inflection absent from his voice. He let loose a sigh before continuing, "he was a samurai. Though he didn't have the fancy title of the old days, he was realer than those ancient clowns. He followed a strict code to the letter. He never ever killed anyone unless his opponent was of equal skill and experience, choosing to spare most men he defeated."

Vito raised an eyebrow. "Then why don't you do the same?"

"Because I'm no fool," Draven spat, his bushy eyebrows pointed downward as a dark cloud maintained his features. "The world doesn't operate by a code and no one man will change that. That's the most important lesson my father taught me, and it was completely unintentional." His light green eyes suddenly shone with a rage so bright, Vito didn't know if to look away or meet the gaze. "The world is cruel, so you must be even more so if you wish to survive."

Vito said nothing - there was nothing that could be said to such raw emotion. He knew that well, because he saw the same look if he dared to look in the mirror too long.

After about ten minutes, where the only sound was the faint rustling of trees in the slight breeze and eager owls, Draven straightened up. "I best get going, if you don't want another course in crash landing on the ground, that is." He gave a second for Vito to respond, but when none came, he nodded.

"Should I arrange for you to be dropped back?" Vito offered.

Draven just raised an eyebrow. The message was clear: I'm safer on my own two feet than I would be in a vehicle.

Vito watched him go, wondering not for the first time, but more intently now, what burden those defined shoulders of Draven carried. As Kaida had said, the unfortunate were forced to grow up early, and though his personality he showcased wouldn't indicate it, it was clear Draven was a member of this ill-fated group.

As Vito stared at Draven drifting through the gates, he heard the crunch of someone walking in his direction. Before, it would've been impossible to hear someone that far away, but with his constant connection to his rapier, his senses were as sharp as one could imagine.

Jekio apppeared from the clutches of the dark. His eyes were clear and focused as they latched onto Vito's. He was sober and home before daylight; under normal circumstances, Vito would think he was stuck in a dream. No words escaped his mouth but Vito could practically see the unspoken words in Jekio's steely gaze.

"Yes?" Vito asked, stretching out the shoulder that had started to pain him again.

"I'll participate in this dumb game," Jekio growled. "Give me one of those weapons."