Third person POV
Present time:...
Julian paced around the round table. He's been here for two days straight, just walking round the table like a robot; he could even be considered one at this rate. The rhythmic sound of his boots against the polished floor was the only thing breaking the oppressive silence of the hall. He had called for a meeting since two days ago and is yet to see their arrival. The wait was a test, a cold reminder of where he stood in the hierarchy of shadows.
Just then, the door creaked open. Five people strutted in, their cloaks dark and heavy, covering their faces in a way that erased their humanity. Even with the hoods, one could tell that two are females and three are male. The leading one was indeed a female, her movements fluid and predatory. They are the Ouroboros Circle, the architects of the academy's darkest corners.
They settled down on the five seats, surrounding the table like judges at a gallows.
"Greetings Ouroboros," Julian spoke, his voice steady despite the tension. His greeting earned a sharp laugh from one of the males.
"Oh, Juliette, I can see your puppet had grown some manners," he laughed, the sound echoing mockingly against the high stone ceiling.
"Shut up, Hades," Juliette replied, her voice cutting sharp through the air like a blade.
"And what do we owe this pleasure, Julian Blackwood?" another male chipped in, his tone dripping with bored condescension.
"I called for this meeting to address a lost coin, and I think the thief must be..."
Julian hasn't finished his statement when a hand banged on the table with a violent thud.
"Absurd! What a blasphemous follower," the third male countered at the top of his voice, his anger flareing up instantly.
"I would appreciate it if you kept shut," Juliette replied, her voice calm but deadly, instantly silencing the room.
"No need to finish, because we all know what he is saying," Hades spoke next, leaning back into the shadows of his hood.
"We gave you a mission and I don't see you doing so well on this mission, Julian Blackwood," a monotonous voice spoke from the head of the table. It was a sound devoid of any human inflection, cold and mechanical.
All heads went down immediately. The power shifted in the room, the air becoming heavy and hard to breathe.
"You brought this meeting just to address this common subject about the peasant?" Her voice held nothing but disgust, treating Elara's existence as a stain on their floor.
"I'm sorry, Leader. I apologize on his behalf," Juliette replied, her head still low, her usual fire extinguished by the presence at the head of the table.
"Better keep a stronger leash on your pet, Juliette, because I won't hesitate to add him to the covent. I don't care if his father is the one funding the tech—anything to improve, right?" Her voice dropped deadly as she stood up, walking out calmly but with a presence that felt like a death sentence.
Juliette's head shut up immediately after she left. She grinded her teeth in anger, the humiliation boiling over.
"That bitch," she muttered low, her voice trembling with a mix of fury and fear.
"Everyone out except mr Blackwood," she spoke as the three males strutted out, leaving a lingering chill in their wake.
"Are you a rebel, Julian?" Juliette walked toward Julian, her steps slow and deliberate as his head went down in a forced show of submission.
"Look up," Juliette ordered. Julian raised his emerald green eyes as their eyes clashed furiously with each other. Without warning, Juliette landed a single sharp slap on his face. The sound was like a whip-crack, and his head whipped sideways from the force.
"Your eyes changed, Mr. Blackwood. Your eyes hold nothing but anger. How strange, knowing you have no emotions," Juliette spoke, saying the last part more like a whisper
"Just because we let you seat up high during the ferryman toll, it doesn't mean you are that special, Julian Blackwood." She leaned in closer, her breath cold against his skin.
"You should be grateful you didn't end up like Leo. You are tasked in keeping Elara from the truth at all cost, and here you are trying to grant her access to the Archive? How foolish," she snorted.
"Does she even know all what happened on the ferryman toll was real? Well, except for the part when she was stabbed. She would have made it; she would have been walking the floors of the Archive just because your foolish self decided to give her a simple task in finding a shoe. A fucking shoe."
Juliette's eyes flashed with a cruel light. "You were lucky we fixed that. I fixed that. You've always be lucky, brother," Juliette smirked, slapping his face lightly in a mocking gesture. She turned, strutting to the door like a demon from the pit of hell.
"Don't mistake my kindness for likeness, Julian. I don't like you but... as much as I would love you to keep Leo company, you've got some purpose to serve, Julian Blackwood," Juliette added as she giggled, the sound chillingly melodic, as she walked off completely.
Julian stood alone, his fist clenched in a white-knuckled anger. He slammed his fist to the wall, a huge hole forming on the reinforced walls of the meeting hall. The damage was violent and raw. Almost instantly, small nanobots, barely visible to the eyes, gathered at the spot. They swarmed over the debris, weaving the structure back together as the wall returned to normal, erasing the evidence of his outburst.
"Elara Vance," he growled, the name tasting like copper in his mouth.
Julian licked his lips, and for the first time in many years, his emerald eyes held nothing but deep, dark obsession.