The Attendant Role

By: Daalo Posted on: January 05, 2012

Oh, how innocent are the young. Dressed as they are, in tripping robes and canvas packs. You may as well as paint targets on their faces, as distinguishing their attire. Yet freely they wander, stark and amazed, unhampered by duty, unimpeded by need. Such lucid breaths they take; to err with impunity, to laugh when they fall; the ease with which they die. Oh, the naivety of youth. How effortlessly I deceive you.

She was there, as they always are, for they are so thoughtlessly guided; fresh of face, pink of cheek, talking with that dilapidated old fool Vellis. Go, he says. Go! And return with what butterflies you may catch. Into the maws of danger you may wander, to snag this man a precious study. Death, you may find, that Vellis give you a pittance of coin in return. Honestly, he makes it all too easy for me. But I digress. Again, I say: there she was, newly netted, a smile so... uncontaminated on her lips. So brave she was against the world, so trusting, that she could scamper through her youthful hours with nothing but good tidings. Then let me, my dear, slip so deftly into your heart.

I stepped from the shadow of the trees, beaming and resplendent in my crimson robes, my golden slippers, my ruby'd fingers. What a sight I must be, what wealth I must have, what adventures and knowledge I must bear within that fine, silvery skull of mine.

"Hello," I said. "My name is Alfonso, and I'm here to help with your butterfly hunt."

"Oh!" she exclaimed, so eager and bright. So unwitting.

"Yesss," I said. "I work with Vellis. He provides the nets, and I provide the direction. You see, the old man doesn't very much like all the ordinary admirals you find around these parts. He pays for them, but not well. No, he instead searches for - nay, yearns for, truthfully - the rarities. The golden emperors. The glitterlights. The gorgeous summerstorms. It is these butterflies that he really wants. Which is why he sends out so many of you youths. And I... well, I simply help you find what he's really looking for."

"Thank you!" she said, almost yelling it in delight. If I was not so rotten, I would feel terrible. "But how does this work?" she asked. "Do I have to give you some of the gold?"

I passed my arm around her shoulder, leading her away, past Vellis, who was already busy passing out more nets. He didn't even notice us. "No! No, of course not. Vellis pays me. I help you free of charge." I smiled, and oh such a smile, my ivories gleaming in the daylight.

"Great!" she said. By Sarapis, she was so chipper! It was infectious. Like a disease. So virile. She would be well received, this one. "So, where are we going?" she asked.

"Well, usually I take people around Minia, or Lodi. But you... you're different. I get a different feeling from you -- you seem special; you seem more intelligent than the others; more capable. So I'm taking you to my secret butterfly-catching spot, where I only take people I think will be able to actually catch those elusive butterflies I spoke of earlier."

She actually jumped into the air at hearing such news, waving her net through the sky like some vigor'd Templar. You can always trust humans for enthusiasm. "Then let's go!" she said.

I smiled, and put my arm back around her shoulders. "Soon, my dear. Don't you fret, we will be there soon."

---

"Well, here we are."

Her neck was craned back, her eyes lifted towards the sky. "Oh, goodness! It's huge!"

I stared too, at the formidable rise, the grand projection, the stately monolith that is Great Rock. "Magnificent, isn't it?"

She jumped to its face without a hesitation, clambering - as unwieldy as she did - up the face of the rock. I, personally, hated this part. For I too, in all my finery, in all my cleanliness, in all my dignity, had to ascend the slimy heights of the Great Rock. "Stop at the cavern," I said. "That's the place."

Without even a doubt, even a moment of consideration, that young thing climbed into the mouth of the cavern. She even helped me up! Verily, it was quite a relief that I had abandoned my conscious so long ago. This was like staring at the cute, wagging face of a puppy right before you kick it in front of a horse. Ugh, such wicked lives we lead.

"Okay," I said, breathing hard though the climb isn't so much. I am not meant for such strenuous duty, such diligent labor. I am an attendant. I attend to my Her Majesty, that she fulfill the desires of us cultists. I am not supposed to be scaling treacherous rock faces to lead some duped youngling into the lair. Look at my clothes, for Sarapis' sake! But... but, all those other dangling beasts look like Trolls, disgusting things that they are. What pretty young girl, all wide-eyed and wondering, is going to trust a tuft of fur and fangs? Thus, must it be I. So unfair, really. One day though, this will all be mine, and I will be the one sending forth my minions own. And none of this black robe and bloody talon nonsense. Some decor, if you will; some class would do us all some good.

"Right," I said. "Get your net ready."

She grinned, clutching her net in her hand like a sword. "Ready!"

"All right. Keep close. And keep an eye out for butterflies."

She followed, like a dog loyal to its own doom, that it share the fate of its master. How tragic, then, that its master was betrayal. Tsk, tsk. But, what needs to be done, needs to be done.

"There are spooky things down here," I said. "But that's why I'm with you. To protect you."

She crept a little closer. "Will I be safe?"

"Oh yes, my dear. Very safe. Look at me: I'm unafraid." This seemed to reassure her, if there had been any fluttering doubt in her pretty, young mind. Deliciously ironic, isn't it? That I capture these juveniles at Vellis, the man who sent them forth to catch pretty little butterflies in nets their own. Really, it does make it all worth it.

"How much further?" she asked, as we slunk further and further into the Great Rock.

"Oh, just a bit," I said. We were creeping , as we were, down into the fortress proper. Thankfully, some swashbuckling bastard had already cleared away the cultists guarding the entrance. Hopefully, he hadn't been thorough. If I came back to the fortress to find it wiped out, to make my journey useless, I would be less than pleased. There was nothing right now: no dogs, no cultists, no black robes and bone-handled knives. For the better, I suppose. Nothing to frighten her too soon.

"I don't see any butterflies..."

"No, no. Not yet. We're getting there. You see that rubble up ahead? We have to climb over that, and we're there. And then, there are butterflies everywhere!"

She smiled, but it wasn't as bright, wasn't as fresh. I hated this part. I hated when they lost their naivety, when they were no longer totally trusting, when they no longer lapped the sweet milk from my hand. It was like eating halfway through a delicious meal and realizing that you only had half of it left. Depressing, isn't it? To know that it has to end some time. Such it is, I suppose.

"Okay," I said. "Clamber over the rocks here. I'll be right behind you."

She nodded, but the smile was gone now, her intuition perhaps kicking in. Certainly, it hadn't kicked hard enough. I watched her clamber over the rubble. It takes some time, for it is a bit treacherous, and though we always seem to be working to clear it away, we never really want to. It's too perfect a trap. I watched the bottom of her foot disappear over the top of the rocks. I grinned - didn't smile, didn't beam, but grinned, grinned oh so wickedly, oh so delightfully - for she was lost now. I waited a moment, prayed that whatever warrior had come to Great Rock had not vanquished all. Then I heard them: the first screams as the acolytes set upon her. Such sublime timbre, such thrilling tone as sailed through the caverns on the back of a youth's first terrified scream. How dreadful those acolytes would be, crouching along the floor, their talons gored and dripping, their masks a twist of rage and anger. But behind it, behind it, oh, they would be laughing. They would taunt her, play with her as a cat does a mouse -- not because it must, not because it helps digestion; but because it desires, it desires the fear as much as the food. I could hear her screams increase in pitch, but they were fading, dragged deeper into the cavern. How frightened she must be now! How terrified! Shadowy beasts barking in the echo; drawls of stone hung with gore; vast pools brimming with blood -- how alarming indeed! I started my own climb over the rubble, just as the screams stopped. I cursed, and hurried my clamber. The butcher never waits for me.