NONE SO VILE

31: The End of War

Albedo, Rennaire, 1811.

Two months later. 

Alabaster winced as the knock came at his laboratory door. A small shiver ran down his back, and the moisture in his mouth suddenly turned sour.

“And lo, the Emperor comes," Alabaster whispered, even as a second knock sounded at the door.  Moving slowly, he raised the sheet back up over the corpse he'd been working on, covering its blank expression and carved-up features. 

Over the past few months Alabaster had come to dread being alone with Leon. The war meant their opportunities to be alone were few and far between, but lately they'd always ended the same way.

How did I miss it? He thought, staring at the door, the weight of it bearing down upon him. I looked away for two seconds, and in that breath, you slipped away from me. 

Leon knocked again. “Are you there, my love?" Those words struck at Alabaster's heart. He knew Leon meant it too, and somehow that made the wound between them hurt all the more. Are you even aware of it? Are you capable of seeing how much has changed? Alabaster knew that if he opened the door, they would fight. It was inevitable, like a glacier eroding its way through a mountain. 

But what's the alternative? Lock it, cover your eyes and ears and pray that all of this goes away? Did you forget that you helped outlaw prayer months ago? He didn't want to. He couldn't stand it, could hardly even stand sharing the same space as Leon. How was it possible to have so much love, and yet so much anger towards one person all at once? 

“One begets the other, that's how," he muttered, already undoing the latch. 

The door swung inwards and Leon threw his paws up, his grin a ray of sunshine that instantly pierced Alabaster's dark clouds. In moments like this, rare as they were, he could almost forget how much he hated what Leon had let himself become. 

“Monsieur Alabaster Rafiq," Leon said, falling into a low bow. “You must be the only man in the world capable of making the Emperor wait." 

Alabaster couldn't help it, he snorted a laugh, stepping aside to let the jaguar inside. He was dressed simply – wearing plain dark trousers with a blue vest buttoned over a white shirt. A tricorn sat atop his head, but it was worn out, the kind you'd find on a sailor instead of an Emperor. 

That makes it even harder. You've changed so much, but only in some ways. In others, you're the same foolish soldier you've always been. Simple, practical. This was not a fairytale, where the once-adoring husband had been suddenly perverted to a villain by the wicked witch. This was still Leon, only with all of his worst features left to run wild and unchecked.

Leon strolled through the gloomy lab as Alabaster relocked the door. The jaguar circled around the fleshy mass in the centre of the room, the worst of its features hidden beneath a sheet. There was the clear impression of a man-shaped object underneath, but one that was oddly corrupted; too many limbs, with tumours, lumps, and tools clearly visible beneath the fabric. The ultimate culmination of all Alabaster's necromantic ability, a life of study distilled to one great and terrible project. Leon seemed to consider lifting the sheet to examine the heresy beneath, but then seemed to think better of it.

Instead he only scoffed, glancing around at the desks piled high with Alabaster's own notes, old scrolls written in strange languages, and the many crystals and bone charms the dragon kept scattered about. Leon was not the only one who had been totally overcome by his work. 

“The New Coalition grows nearer every day, as do their Angels. Is he ready?" Leon asked, jerking his chin back towards the covered mass. “What was it you called him? Onaga?" 

“Mahoraga," Alabaster corrected, staring at the sheet. It was his magnum opus, an achievement that would have made his dead master, Fayez, weep with terror and joy. Yet still, Alabaster could not bring himself to find pride in it. “The word comes from the esoterics to the east of Urdo. They believed the Mahoraga were a kind of higher echelon of Angel – primordial beings dedicated to protecting the central pillar of the world's morality. If my rituals are a success, then this will be to Angels as they are to us. It felt a fitting moniker." He paused, sighing. “And no, it is not ready."

“Mahoraga…" Leon tasted the word, seemingly satisfied by the explanation. “Here we are once again. The nostalgia is enough to make me weepy."

“Desecrated bodies make you nostalgic?" 

“Oh, don't you remember?" Leon stuck his tongue between his teeth, and it was so achingly cute that, for a moment, Alabaster was catapulted back in time. Before the revolution and the wars; back to when he'd been trying to convince himself that it was hate he felt for Leon Valoisier, and not the first sparks of attraction. 

You used to be the only person that I felt had ever understood me, he thought. And now I can hardly recognise you.

“Baster…?" 

“Oh." He blinked, realising he'd been flustered like a preparatory girl. How humiliating. “Remember what?" 

“How can you say that?" Leon gesticulated wildly as he spoke. “Remember when this all began, when our work really began. You still hated me in those days, as I recall, but we'd come to this room and argue about Angels almost every day. Phillipe was dead, but Jules and Lazare were still trying to mount a resistance. I needed a way to fight Lazare, and you were the only one who could give it to me."

Is that all you are to him? A useful tool? Alabaster shut out the harrowing voice. That belonged to the old Alabaster. He had no need of it anymore. That's what you think.

“I remember," he said. “You kept trying to rush me. You could not seem to accept that my rituals take time."

Leon circled the covered body, coming to a stop inches from Alabaster's front. He grinned even wider. “And you seemed not to care a whit that the entire country was balancing on a knife's edge, so not much has changed for either of us." Suddenly Leon reached down, scooping up Alabaster's claw and pulling it to his chest, squeezing hard. “I was so blind back then. Call it youth, I suppose. My heart ached for you day and night, but I was too thick-headed to see. I'd spent so long feeling alone, that I didn't recognise what we shared. It rends me to think of how much time was wasted because of my shortsightedness." 

“I was… no better." 

The jaguar's grin faltered, then slipped off his face entirely. “I've been… cruel to you. Recently. I know that."

“Leon…" 

“I should never have spoken to you the way I did back in Zolfreun, and I should have said as much far earlier. It eats at me, still. I thought then that if I could just have Deuxmoise see things my way, we'd be on the path to peace. I felt we were so close and… still. I should not have turned my frustrations onto you." 

“Yes, well. You did." Alabaster pulled himself free, turning to stare at his scrolls, searching for anything else to look at. Everything Leon said seemed to stretch him out, and Alabaster didn't know how much he could take before he just snapped. “There's no point hashing it out now." He almost wished Leon would remain cruel, that would be easier. This swapping and changing between modes was dizzying, and he struggled to make sense of it. One moment he was sweet, loving, and tender. The next, he spoke with such venom Alabaster almost felt like he hated him. 

Tell him how you betrayed his trust. He'll be sure to hate you then. Tell him how you stole Gabriel from him and raised the boy as your own. Tell him you knew Gabriel was a threat to his legitimacy and you did it anyway. You convinced him to leave Gabriel to protect his sister and nephew. Gabriel, who had his entire family killed at Leon's behest. Tell him all that, and things will grow very simple, very fast.

“Things will be different when the war ends, Baster, I swear to you."

Or, you could tell him how you went behind his back to Deuxmoise. How you whispered in his old friend's ear, telling him the true depth of Leon's hubris. Would Deuxmoise still have betrayed him, if he hadn't known Leon planned to start another war? Maybe he'll think it's your fault Deuxmoise joined the New Coalition. Maybe he won't blame you at all. 

But you'll never know. Because you're a coward. You were then, and you are now.

“Shut up already," Alabaster hissed.

“What did you say?" Leon asked, stepping closer. “Is everything alright?"

“I said dreams, Émeric has been complaining of them." Alabaster cleared his throat, stabbing his claws into his palms and seizing hold of the sharp pain there.

I am not a coward. I know what's right.

Then why won't you stand up to him?  

Leon shifted in place. “...Dreams? What sort of dreams?" 

Alabaster was glad for the change in topic. “The boy doesn't possess the vocabulary to describe them in detail, but I suspect it's related to his development as an Angel. Every week he grows stronger and gains a little more control. But after our lessons, when he is simply playing, he mentions strange things. People, figures, coming for him in his sleep. Voices." 

“He's been through a lot for someone so young. Couldn't it be a lingering after-effect of his trauma?" Leon hazarded. “Please, Alabaster, do not tell me the One God is speaking to him. I cannot have you proving He exists only months after I make the Church illegal." 

“Very little risk of that. The Imperators spoke about Angelic madness, and there are documents seized from the Albedo cathedral's archives that corroborate it. We need only to look at Lazare or Leutgard to see… they're undeniably deranged." 

“People said the same about you. That doesn't make it so." 

Alabaster shook his head. “It's more than judgemental gossip, Leon. He hasn't mentioned anything to you? When was the last time you even spoke with Émeric?" 

“Don't I have enough guilt on my shoulders without you adding to it?" Leon blew air from his cheeks. “I haven't even seen Cosette or Émeric in nearly two weeks, let alone spoken to the boy about his most intimate fears. The war takes all of my time and still it isn't enough. In fact, I shouldn't even be here right now, I only needed a moment of peace."

Here it comes, Alabaster thought, bracing himself.

However, Leon seemed to reign himself in, squeezing the bridge of his muzzle and furrowing his brow. His whiskers twitched the way they did when he had a headache mounting. “Just tell me plainly. Is Émeric going to lose his mind?"

Alabaster paused. He truly didn't know. For the last several hundred years, nobody had successfully raised an Angel outside of the Church's auspice, at least not in Midland. At best, Alabaster had found reports of parents hiding their children from the Imperators, but it always ended the same way – the children accidentally killed their family, outed themselves, and were either executed or taken by the Church for upbringing. 

Many of the old reports Alabaster read claimed that without the Church's intervention, all Angels were doomed to madness. Their power was too great. 

I refuse to believe that. If Leon had taught Alabaster anything, it was that the way things were was not the way they had to be. Institutions could crumble, collapse, and be rebuilt. Before Leon, Alabaster had thought of the world's systems as immutable. Kings, commerce, diplomacy, they were all unchangeable machines that were pointless to rage against.

But just because things were, did not mean they must be. 

The Church devised a way to stabilise them, which means it can be done, somehow. If only I had the time to learn how. Maybe, if he could devote every inch of his mind he could deduce a way, but… as things were currently, the Mahoraga took precedence.

This fucking war, it's a beast that consumes everything it touches. What good could we do for the people of Rennaire if we weren't busy killing your enemies? 

“I don't know," Alabaster admitted eventually. “I am trying my best, but I am working in suboptimal conditions, to put it mildly. I don't want to see any harm come to Émeric either, Leon, but this…" He turned, sweeping a claw towards the Mahoraga's covered form. “Or would you have me abandon it? Because I cannot do both." 

“No, this has to be your focus," Leon replied. “At least for now. When the war is over, then we will have time to save Émeric. I promise you, my love, once the fighting is done I will give you everything you need. We'll need that research going forth as well, for more Angels will be born, and the Church won't always exist."

Alabaster closed his eyes. He didn't have the energy to fight anymore. There was so much wrong with what Leon said. 

He means to dismantle the Church. So even if Leon did win the war with the great powers, he would have another fight with the people and whatever Angels were leftover. Nothing will ever convince him to let go of the Grand Design. He's delusional. I know he is. 

He meant to bite his tongue. The last thing Alabaster wanted to do was fight again. He'd get nowhere and they both knew it. Every time the subject was raised they went around in circles, achieved nothing, and drifted further apart. Damn it, it was pointless. He meant to say nothing.

But the words came out anyway. 

“I don't see an end to the war in sight, Leon." 

The jaguar scoffed. “Must we? Again?" 

“I only wish you could hear yourself. You dismantled your councils, Gaspar is dead, Jacques is dead, and there is no one left to tell you you're wrong! You're screaming that the sky is red when everyone else knows that it is blue! Look around the palace, speak to what officials you have left, listen to your generals! Nobody thinks we are winning this war, nor that we even can win it!"

“Yes, I've heard it all before. Nobody ever thinks I'll win, because deep down they want me to lose." Leon stepped closer. “But I can't have it from you as well. I'm only a man."  

“First time I've heard you admit as much. This damned chip on your shoulder, I wish I knew where it came from so I could cut it out!" 

Leon narrowed his eyes. “Oh?" 

Alabaster stepped up, jabbing a finger into the jaguar's chest like it were a knife. “You are the Emperor. The head of the greatest military of all time, and you wield absolute power over the entire country with zero opposition. Who are you so desperate to prove yourself to?" 

“No one, and everyone," Leon replied, as if Alabaster was stupid. “Every last person who thinks I cannot do it. Myself, take your pick. You don't know what you're talking about – two days ago I received a missive from the New Coalition's representatives, signed by all parties and the Kiberland King himself. They are begging me to abdicate, promising leniency, offering constitutional documents to smoothly transition the change of power." 

“So why not take it?" Alabaster snarled. His claws curled, and if he had fur he would have torn it from his head. “We could leave all this behind! Everything! We could take Émeric and help him, and there'd be no more bloodshed." 

Leon cocked his head, as if he was almost trying not to laugh. “Don't you see? They rushed into this war hoping to end it before it began. I admit, it was a good gamble and the best chance they had. But I survived Deuxmoise's trap, and now the reality that they must face me on equal terms is beginning to set in. They're scared, because they know if they don't win I will tear them apart such that they can never resist me again. They're trying to call my bluff, and praying that I just give it all up. Please, tell me you see that much!"

Alabaster shook his head. “You're insane." 

“No." Leon chopped at the air. “It is the world that has gone mad, and I'm the only one left that can see things for how they truly are. The tide is already turning. We clashed with their vanguard force in Órlane, bloodied their noses."

“I saw that report," Alabaster shot back. “They fielded no Angels, and it was at best a stalemate!" 

“We are the defenders – a stalemate is a victory." 

“Leon, you…" Alabaster raised his claws, curling them into fists and growling wordlessly. He was so frustrated, and he was so tired. It all came bubbling up and he was powerless to stop it. He choked the words out through half a dry sob. “I hate you. Damn it, I wish I could hate you." Leon came forward, trying to grab hold of him, but the dragon shoved him away. “No. Don't you fucking touch me." 

“Alabaster… you love me, please…" The jaguar swallowed back his own tears. “Say it. Please, say it. This is a fight and it is ugly, but I know that you love me as I love you, I know that you do." 

“That's the problem! It would all be so much easier if I could hate you." He shook himself, real tears stinging his eyes. “You're killing this country, you're killing the whole world and you refuse to see it! Why, why wouldn't you just stop? You had them kneeling at your feet but you somehow wanted more! I told you once that any system of control is inherently corrupt, and now you're proving me right!" He was enraged. He wanted to claw Leon's eyes out, but he also wanted to fall into his arms and collapse. 

“You don't mean that," Leon hushed, rushing forward and embracing him. 

“Why can't I hate you?" Alabaster choked out, as the two of them sank to the floor. 

His chest ached deeply, a great scar reaching inside him and pulling his soul through. It was so unfair. The world had stripped Alabaster of his ability to care, and then Leon had come into his life and opened his heart. Through Leon, he had seen the suffering of the poor, the voicelessness of the masses, and had realised that these were not natural things. He'd allowed himself to see them as the injustices they were. 

It was a cruel joke. Now Leon himself was that same injustice, and Alabaster didn't know how to stop it. 

I wish I could hate you. It would all be so much easier if I could hate you. The world would be better without you in it but still, despite everything, I can't stand the thought of losing you. 

Because you're weak. Born to be a servant. Born to be owned.

“I'm not weak," Alabaster gasped.

“I love you," Leon whispered. “Please believe me. I know this is hard, I know it's unfair. But we have each other, and we are nearly through I swear to you."

“Why?" That was all Alabaster could manage to ask. 

“For a better world," Leon insisted, squeezing him tighter. “Don't you remember how things were under King Phillipe? The peasants starved, the gentry fought and clawed at each other, and each class was desperate to prove their loyalty as the crown's lapdog. Corrupt officials like Joachim, Cardinal Loic, Paul Vardé, slowly dismantled the country for their own persona gain while an absent King gorged himself and wasted the people's money."

“We've had nine years of war, Leon. Nine. How are we any better?" 

“People have a voice. The undercity is opened up, healthcare, education, and the right to work is available to all who seek it out." Leon reached down to cup Alabaster's chin, raising his head so their eyes met. “I am not perfect, my Empire is not perfect, but it is the best option we have had yet. I believe we can win this war, and put an end to the injustice and tyranny of kings, forever."

“I want to believe that too." Alabaster sighed, his breath shaking. “But I just can't see it." 

“My love, my love," Leon whispered, leaning forward so their foreheads touched. He spoke so softly, so gently. “If I surrender, the New Coalition will waste no time in butchering our nation. The people will suffer as a punishment for my mistakes. Listen to me when I say; that if I truly believed surrendering my crown was what was best for Rennaire, then I would do it. I would give it all up, for them, and for you. But I have responsibilities. Destiny has brought me to this place, and now, I must see it through." 

Alabaster breathed in deep, pulling back and staring into his lover's face. 

I wish I could believe you. Really, I wished I did.

But he couldn't. It was time to accept the truth. 

The Leon I once loved is gone. 

“You were supposed to wear a crown." Alabaster shifted on the ledge, the wind tugging at his robes. Gabriel sat beside him, arms braced onto his raised knee. The badger stared at the city, watching the distant plumes of smoke through his veil. “Do you ever think about that?" 

“You were supposed to die in a slave pit before you reached fifteen," Gabriel replied. “Do you ever think about that?" 

“Only every day." 

Several days had passed since Alabaster and Leon last spoke, and they'd continued to avoid each other since. As the New Coalition forces had drawn closer towards the city, Leon had ordered the roof of the palace converted into a kind of barricaded crow's nest. One could sit up here, and look out over the entire city at once.

“They'll be here soon enough," he told Alabaster, on one of the rare opportunities they had to speak privately. “And when they arrive, I'll look them in the eyes."

The palace roof was one of the few places not constantly filled with arguing generals, advisors, and attendants to the Emperor. It was one of the few places Alabaster and Gabriel could go to breathe, away from everything. 

“I seem to hardly recognise him these days," Alabaster admitted.

“He's lost in his own madness," Gabriel agreed. The boy had grown up to be very matter-of-fact. He stated things as he saw them, and while Alabaster typically found it refreshing, it didn't take the sting out of the truth when it came. “It's the same mistake that Kazmar the Great made, right before his own council set him on fire and threw him into the Ilyov Ravine." The badger leaned back, breathing out long and slow. “Thought he was too big to fail." 

“Gabriel," Alabaster paused. He wasn't sure how to begin the question, wasn't even really sure what it was he wanted to ask. Their relationship was a good one, but Leon was always a touchy subject. Gabriel had always maintained that he respected the Emperor and would be loyal to him, but made no effort denying how he despised him personally. 

Instead of painting and fine dining, Gabriel had learned poisons and knife-fighting. Instead of brunching with visiting dignitaries, he'd fought with the thugs and thieves that populated the depths of the undercity. 

“What?" The boy asked, his veil jerking ever so slightly. 

“Do you ever wonder what kind of king you'd have been?" 

The badger snorted, thinking for a moment. Finally, he said. “Only every day." 

“We are losing this war, you know." Alabaster felt the words slip from his mouth. “Leon is trying not to let it show, but it's plain to see. There have been no major victories, and the New Coalition isn't being slowed like we hoped. He's holding out for the Mahoraga but… even if it's everything I hope, I don't see how we can win this." 

“I know." 

Alabaster rested his chin on his claws. The entire country was in freefall and he didn't know how to get off. Rennaire had no money, no allies, and no hope. He wished he could just take Leon and run away, and leave it all behind. 

You could go. Nothing ties you here. Nothing but him. The thought struck like a dagger to the heart. Could he really abandon the only man he'd ever met that he actually liked, let alone loved? The Leon you fell in love with is gone, and you know it. Replaced by madness. 

Even if Alabaster thought he could abandon Leon, he could not abandon Rennaire. This country was his home now, for better or worse, and he had a responsibility to it.

“Leon wanted… what Leon wants is what is best for Rennaire. I believe that, I know that. But there's what we want and there's reality. We're losing this war and it's only been two months. The New Coalition armies will be here soon, and they'll tear our buildings down, and kill our people, and rip out every good tree Leon tried to plant." 

Gabriel said nothing, only watching him cautiously through the veil.

It was so much easier to be cruel. Alabaster's soul ached. Before he would have shut it all out, called them weak, and moved on. Now he felt their pain keenly. He saw the hungry on the streets, he saw the hopelessness in the soldier's faces as they marched off to fight battles they knew they couldn't win. 

He loved Leon, but Leon was killing these people. 

And for what? 

“Rennaire has had more than its share of revolution," Alabaster said finally, biting his tongue in an attempt to regain his composure. “But I need to ask you something, Gabriel, for the good of this country, and the good of all the people that live here." 

Do I choose what I love, or what's right? 

Could he truly do it, if it meant that Leon despised him? 

Alabaster looked ahead, his gaze going far into the horizon. “If the crown came to you, would you accept it?" 

“Alabaster…" Gabriel said, his voice a low pitch. “You're skirting close to treason." 

“Just answer me. What would you do?" 

“Do you think the New Coalition aims to make me king, once they depose the Emperor? They don't even know I'm alive." 

Alabaster looked aside, staring right into the boy's painted veil. “No, but I think they would accept you. Gabriel, please." 

 Gabriel pushed to his feet, breath whistling as he exhaled through clenched teeth. His loose assassin's garb shifted with his movements. He hugged himself, looking away. 

“Leon is a tyrant," he said finally. “He took the country by force, twice, and he's willing to kill anyone in his way. He's the Emperor, an autocratic force and there is nothing and nobody in this country who can countermand him." He paused, shifting his weight. “But that doesn't mean he's all bad. When I was a child, the Undercity was little more than my father's dirty secret. The aristocrats of Albedo pretended like it didn't exist, even though half of them relied on its smuggled goods and slave labour to keep their wealth. I didn't even know of it until I was nine years old, and even then reaching it was no easy feat." 

“I remember," Alabaster said. His first trip down had been via a boat in the sewers. These days there were bridges and roads, anyone could come and go as they pleased. 

“The old classes are gone," Gabriel continued. “Blood-born rights are a thing of the past, and while it's naive to think our classes could be eliminated entirely… it's better than it was. There is less hunger, and less suffering."

“But more war."

Gabriel made a smirking sound. “Yes… Rennaire hasn't known peace since Leon took power, there are children alive now that have only ever known conflict." The badger raised a gloved paw to the air, examining himself. “Would I be any better, simply because of my birthright? Doubtful. I don't believe in the One God any more than you do, Alabaster, I don't believe in a divine right to rule." 

“So you'd reject the crown? Even if it was given to you?"

“I didn't say that," Gabriel snapped quickly. “At the risk of speaking treason… yes. I would accept the crown of Rennaire. And I would sign a new constitution limiting the monarch's power, but I would rule. I…" He hesitated. “I would try to be just, I think. The fatherland should be returned to its people." 

If it was best for the country, would Leon relinquish his power? Alabaster had asked himself that question ever since the revolution.

He didn't need to ask anymore. 

“But he won't give it up, you know that," Gabriel said firmly. 

“I do."

“So it's pointless."

“Maybe."

“If he loses the war, the New Coalition won't accept that I've been hiding here all this time. They will appoint their own king." Gabriel sighed. “Alabaster. What are you thinking?" 

Something about that question triggered something. An answer that Alabaster had been searching for, a realisation of what he had to do. A great emptiness opened inside of him, a desolation of hope. There was nobody else who could do it.

“He won't abdicate." 

And you cannot make him see reason. He's out of your reach now. 

He closed his eyes as tears came once more. 

It has to be done. You'll be alone again. 

He was going to. Damn Leon. Damn the voices in his head and damn his own fear, his own pain. Leon was right, he had been enamored with his newfound morality and had been preaching empty words. How could he expect Leon to make the hard choices when he was not willing to? 

“No." He growled it, tears seeping from his eyes to run down his ivory scales. “For once in my fucking life. I am going to put someone else first. Put all of them first."

He opened his eyes and looked at Gabriel. A former prince. A former leper. Reborn and remade. Once a would-be king. Now a would-be killer.

I knew I would need you one day, not for your birth, but for your ability. He had been given the chance to make Gabriel into anything, and he had made a knife. 

Because that is all I know. 

“What are you going to do?"

“What should have been done months ago," Alabaster replied huskily. His body had hardened, and he now saw the only way through. “The New Coalition is coming whether we like it or not, but when they get here…"

Breathe in. 

I hate you for making me choose this.

It had to be done. 

No matter how much it hurts.

Breathe out.

“Leon will not be Emperor."