Chapter 12: Baron's Appearance
Aldwyn nodded, shaking the water from his cloak. "The Red Baron is rumored to attend a Crimson Masquerade in three nights. It's a private event, but I've secured an invitation."
Lady Célia's eyes widened. "The Crimson masquerade? That's where the city's most dangerous and influential figures come to play. It's a place of secrets and deals made in the shadows."
"I'm aware," Aldwyn said, his voice steady despite the thundering of his heart. "But it's where we'll find answers about your sister."
Lady Célia stood, her fur coat swirling around her like a fiery storm. "I will not sit idly by while you gallivant through the city's underbelly. I demand to come with you."
He declined immediately. "It's too dangerous. The masquerade is no place for a lady of your standing."
"But you can help in other ways, you could give me a part of the payment in advance, then I can prepare myself much better."
Lady Célia studied him, her expression unreadable. Finally, she nodded. "Very well," she said, walking to a nearby desk and opening a drawer. She pulled out a small pouch and tossed it to him. "This should cover your expenses."
The pouch was heavier than it looked, filled with the clink of twenty silver. Aldwyn caught it deftly. "Thank you, Lady Célia. I won't disappoint you."
„Although she is very rich, she is very cheap, I was hoping for more..."
"See that you don't," she said, her voice cold. "I want my sister back, or I want to know the truth of what happened to her."
With the storm outside mirroring the tempest of his thoughts, he made his way back to the Hall of the Sword.
The guild's warmth and the clanging of swords in the training chamber offered a semblance of normalcy. But he knew that his mission was anything but ordinary.
On the way back he bought a nondescript black mask for 2 silver coins. He would need it for the crimson masquerade.
....
The night of the Crimson Masquerade arrived, and with it, the promise of answers. Aldwyn had spent the last three days preparing for the event, using the advanced silver to acquire a suitable outfit and the remaining coins to gather information on the attendees and the masquerade's customs. The mask he'd bought was simple yet elegant, a stark contrast to the crimson one he knew the Red Baron would likely wear.
He donned a black doublet with intricate silver threading that glinted like moonlight on a dark lake, tailored to fit his lean form. The hose was made of the finest material, hugging his legs without restricting his movement. He wore soft leather boots that whispered against the cobblestone streets as he walked, silent as a cat stalking its prey. Over this, he wore a long, flowing cloak of midnight blue, the color of the abyss, to blend into the shadows of the night.
The crimson invitation in his pocket felt like a hot coal, a symbol of the dangerous dance he was about to perform. He approached the mansion, its grandeur marred by the foul aura that hung over the Crimson Bazaar. The masquerade was in full swing, the sound of laughter and music a macabre serenade to the secrets hidden behind the masks.
Aldwyn presented his invitation to the doorman, a hulking brute with eyes as cold as the grave. The man took the card and nodded, allowing him to pass. The foyer was a kaleidoscope of colors and fabrics, the air thick with the scent of perfume and concealed intentions. His eyes scanned the room, looking for any sign of the Red Baron.
Moving through the crowd, he felt like a shark in a sea of piranhas. Each guest was a potential threat, their smiles as sharp as the weapons hidden beneath their finery. He accepted a glass of wine from a passing servant, the liquid a deep crimson that matched the decor. The warmth spread through him, a small comfort in the face of the unknown.
Aldwyn approached a group of men huddled together, their voices low and conspiratorial. They fell silent as he joined them. "Gentlemen," he said, his voice a velvet purr. "Tell me, have any of you had the pleasure of meeting the enigmatic Red Baron?"
Their eyes flicked to his mask before returning to their drinks. One of them, a portly man with a silver fox mask, chuckled. "The Baron? He's a creature of the shadows, not one for small talk."
Aldwyn smirked, sipping his wine. "And yet, he finds his way to such illustrious events. Perhaps the shadows here are to his liking."
The man with the silver fox mask studied him for a moment before speaking. "If you wish to find the Baron, you'll need to play the game. The masquerade is more than just a dance; it's a chessboard where everyone has their moves planned."
Aldwyn nodded, his gaze shifting to the throngs of guests. He needed to blend in, to become a piece in this twisted game. He drifted through the masquerade, engaging in polite conversations that danced around the edges of truth.
He approached a lady with emerald eyes peeking out from a delicate swan mask, her gown shimmering like a moonlit lake. "Pray tell, my lady," he began, his voice a silky whisper, "have you by any chance had the pleasure of the Red Baron's company tonight?"
Her laugh was like the tinkling of bells. "Ah, the elusive Baron," she said, her eyes flicking to his mask. "He's said to be somewhere among us, but his whereabouts are as much a mystery as the man himself."
Aldwyn's smile remained fixed, his eyes scanning the room over the rim of his glass. "Indeed," he said, his tone light. "But I've heard that the most interesting things are often found in the most unexpected places."
The lady with the swan mask tilted her head, intrigued. "Perhaps," she said, her voice a silky purr. "But you must be careful not to lose yourself in the masquerade."
Aldwyn took her words to heart, mingling with the guests as if he belonged among the elite. His eyes searched the room, taking in every detail. The masquerade was a masquerade of power, with each guest vying for dominance in a silent dance of deceit.
He approached a quartet playing a haunting melody, the music a seductive serenade that whispered of secrets and shadows. Between the notes, he heard the murmur of a private conversation, a hint of something important.
A couple, their masks adorned with peacock feathers, whispered furtively in a corner. The man's hand gestured to the second floor, his eyes briefly meeting Aldwyn's before darting away. The woman, a crimson rose clutched in her hand, offered a knowing smile. It was as if they were sharing a joke that only they understood.
„Do they hint at what I think they do? Who would have thought that such things would happen here too...but back to the main topic. The Baron is really difficult to grasp."
Aldwyn's made his way up the grand staircase, his steps silent on the plush red carpet. The second floor was quieter, the air thick with tension and hushed whispers. He passed several closed doors, each guarded by silent sentinels in matching crimson livery, their eyes unblinking behind their masks.
Apart from the moaning coming from the doors from time to time, there was nothing else upstairs.
He turned back to the staircase, contemplating his next move. As he did, a masked figure came up the stairs, the crimson fabric of their outfit unfurling like a bloody waterfall. The mask was that of a grinning demon, with eyes that gleamed like polished rubies.
"Looking for something?" the figure drawled, their voice a dark silk that seemed to caress the air.
Aldwyn's heart skipped a beat. Could this be the Red Baron? He keeping his expression neutral. "Just enjoying the masquerade," he said, raising his glass in a toast.
The demon-masked figure stepped closer, the sound of their boots echoing in the stillness. "I see, and what brings a man like you to such a... private affair?"
Aldwyn met their gaze, his own eyes hidden behind the inscrutable mask. "A quest for knowledge," he replied, his voice a smooth lie. "I've heard that the most intriguing stories are born from the whispers of the night."
The demon-masked figure chuckled. "Indeed," they said, their voice a tantalizing riddle. "And what knowledge do you seek?"
Aldwyn's mind raced, "that's something I'd rather discuss with the Baron," he said.
The demon-masked figure leaned closer, their crimson eyes burning with curiosity. "Ah, the Baron," they murmured. "A man of many secrets. But perhaps, if your thirst for knowledge is genuine, I can introduce you to someone who might... enlighten you."
„Shit, my lie put me in an uncomfortable situation. However, I could use it to get other information instead." Aldwyn thought about the situation.
Aldwyn's nodded, feigning nonchalance. "That would be most appreciated."
The demon-masked figure led him down a corridor, the laughter and music from the ballroom fading into the background. They stopped at a heavy, gilded door, and with a dramatic flourish, opened it to reveal a dimly lit chamber. "Wait here," they said, their voice trailing off as they disappeared into the shadows.
„All of this screams trap...hidden from the other guests, alone, in ambush. But my sense hasn't given me any sign yet, so it should be fine." Aldwyn tried to calm himself down.
The door creaked open, and the demon-masked figure reappeared, beckoning him with a gloved hand. "The Baron will see you now," they whispered, their crimson eyes gleaming with an emotion that could have been amusement or malice.
„Wait what...why is the Baron receiving me?"
Aldwyn stepped into the chamber, the door closing heavily behind him. The room was illuminated by flickering candles, casting a dance of shadows on the walls adorned with tapestries depicting scenes of carnage and debauchery. A single chair sat in the center, its occupant obscured by the flickering light.
He approached the chair, the soles of his boots echoing through the quiet. The figure in the chair slowly rose, turning to face him. The crimson mask was indeed that of the Red Baron.
"Welcome," the Baron said, his voice a low rumble. "I've been expecting you."
Aldwyn felt a jolt of surprise, but he kept his features calm. "You know who I am?"
The Red Baron chuckled, a sound that resonated with the crackling of the fireplace behind him. "All I know is that someone was asking around looking for me, not only here but even outside. Then he got a invitation by chance and sniffed around here too."
Aldwyn's grip on his twin blades tightened imperceptibly. "I'm not your enemy, all I need are information, nothing else," he said, trying to keep his voice calm.
The Red Baron stepped closer, his crimson eyes piercing through the shadows. "Information is a currency more valuable than gold, my dear Stranger," he said, his voice a purr. "What makes you think I'd part with it so easily?"
Aldwyn met his gaze, his own eyes cold and unyielding. "Because that kind of information is useless for you, I just need to know what happened to Lady Yesenia, nothing else."
The Red Baron studied him, his expression unreadable behind the mask. "Lady Yesenia," he murmured, as if tasting the name. "A tragic tale, indeed."
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