Chapter 12, Vengeance and Acceptance
One of the many empiricists collected around him turned his way, gave him a sharp, disbelieving look before turning back to the one who had cried wolf. Oh, no. Oh no no no. You are not pulling this shit in front of the honourable Captain. And even if he did some shit like that, who cares?! Didnt we all agree that former allegiances and wars would be put on hold in this world?
The man on the other side balled his fists together. ...What he did isnt something that can be forgiven. Didnt you hear how the keepers spoke the Language of Mould with him out there in the hall? If it was any other heathen cult it could have been forgiven! But that one-, you cant stand on the side of such a disgusting heathen for this! How did he even escape the Basement? The number of seals we put down there
Something clicked in Kreigs mind. Hed never seen the names or faces of those who locked him up. He had allowed himself to be sealed up, but those feelings of belonging left him too soon.
Vengeance. Yes, a freezing cold vengeance took hold of his chest.
For the first time since being surrounded by these filthy imperialists, he moved. He took steady, careful steps towards this man. This man who kept him locked up for twenty straight years. For once, he put the mans features to mind. His skin was slightly tan, as all imperialists were, and though his eyes were brown, they were significantly lighter in colour than most, the rim of it having an almost golden. A crooked eagle-nose capped off by a scar on his nose. A former soldier, perhaps even chief of one of the guard sections.
A strong, large build. Though not as large as Kreigs. And when Kreig had come close enough to him, the whole room muffled by a choking silence, this difference in size was all too obvious.
The man looked up at him, his face twitching in a fear that had awakened only now. There was a reason why Kreig wore restraints while everyone else wore nothing but ankle bracelets. There was a reason his jumpsuit was orange instead of their domestic blue.
There was a reason the Empire had sealed Kreig in the deepest dungeon they had, in the Basement where only a single monster could dwell.
When this man had left with his little army and his conviction, Kreig had still been kept down there. Safe and secure.
Clearly, he hadnt been willingly released.
Being above someone For some reason, he hated the thought of it. After all, he did not deserve such a title.
He sat alone for three hours, and then he was brought back to his cell. Craig asked him if hed had any fun, and Kreig didnt respond. Back in his cell, he spent his time wisely by drawing the people hed met. One portrait of the former devotee. A sketch of the people crowding around him. A detailed drawing of the man who incarcerated him. For a brief moment, he considered drawing something unsavoury about the Empiricist who got him stuck down there, but after a few moments of thought, he decided upon another subject.
A round table, a deck of cards, a bunch of people from all the different tables and ethnicities including the boy believer and the Empiricist, and then himself. All together. But, somehow It felt off. The smiles on everyones faces were off and there was no true light in their eyes. He was doing something wrong, something that his Artistry skill wasnt able to fake for him.
Something he had to do himself.
He reinvented his drawing. He had to think. Had to add true feelings. There was no warmth and no softness. But he could add that. A few well-placed strokes. Warm colours. The people touched each other. Had their arms on each others shoulders. People showed different emotions. And varying degrees of emotion. One man was upset at losing, another patting him on the shoulder and laughing. One was concentrated, another peeking at his cards. All of them were happy. The boy believer was happy, the Empiricism was happy, and And he, Kreig, was happy.
Artistry reached Rank IV
Artistry (IV)
Rank IV: Evoke emotion
Rank III: Greater anatomy, perspective, shading
Rank II: Greater colour and design
Rank I: Stable hands, smoother lines