The Tenderloin

******************************

Blake 'Deathsguard' Nightingale

I stare perhaps a bit too long at Johnny while we sit at one of the few still-open restaurants during all this chaos. He wanted to take me out for dinner, and I almost cried. I don't think I've ever done anything like this before.

And it's so close to perfect. If not for one little thing.

"Soooo... what's this say? And this? Oh! That looks good! I want that!"

Johnny pats Lennox's head, laughing at the Stoneclad stuck with the mind of a child. I'm not angry at the kid. I just... I take care of him so much. Silas and I are the ones to watch over him the most. I'm not sure why I took the mantle, nor the Undead man either, but we both enjoy it. It simply becomes too much sometimes, but Johnny was too kind not to bring him. I suppose that's why I like him so much, though.

"Get whatever you want, Lennox. But you know you can't really taste things, right?"

My heart shifts immediately from frustration to sadness as Lennox's head falls. He can eat, and he can taste. But, like the Undead similar to Silas, their tastes are dulled massively. Unlike the Undead from the Underworld, though, Lennox can taste more than just spice and alcohol.

It's just all muted.

Yet, that sadness only holds him down for a few moments before the lad jumps in his seat again, asking for more food. Johnny and I struggle not to laugh at him while the few others in the restaurant, Kale's Brewery, give him odd looks.

Those odd stares quickly disappear as Johnny returns a glare. His golden pupils scare some of the other people shitless as they twist around and leave us alone. I order once I find something appetizing on the menu, and Johnny does the same.

While we wait for our food, Johnny spends most of it talking and asking questions while distracting Lennox with random things.

"You worried about the raid on the estate in a few days? I would ask you to stay behind, but we both know that won't work. If you have any concerns, however, let them fly."

The first thing the man asks me is something that makes me think. I never even for a moment considered staying behind, but he's right. I would never. It warms my heart that he wants me to stay safe, yet he knows me.

I didn't grow up in some coddled community. I'm no Estatesman or even a Hunter with formal training.

I grew up in the swamps of Sinscreak, with every day a struggle. And not a man, woman, or child from Sinscreak backs down from a fight.

As for concerns...

I do have a few. Many, in fact, and they eat at me when I sleep.

"What do we expect to run into? Will my Absolution be useful at all? Should we push back the siege until Wyatt's training is done? He and Virgil proved that together, they can hold off an Angel. With Shiver under his belt and Virgil's new Sigil, perhaps they can do some more."

Johnny nods to my thoughts, adding some of his own with a finger on his chin and his other hand playing tic-tac-toe with Lennox. The little bugger keeps trying to cheat, and it's almost enough to make me break into laughter. Nevertheless, I hold it together for our conversation.

"We'll for sure find a Vessel of Eli, perhaps even his true body. Clarence Love and Parker Callahan might even show themselves. Edward is inclined to believe this place is a massive part of Eli's future plans. If we don't do it soon, who knows what the hell he'll do? Many of those Mannequins will also show themselves, of that, I'm sure. As for others... I'd wager Eli has a few hidden Angels from the Estates he hasn't shown to the world yet. All in all, I'd say they'll probably be near us in Angelic numbers."

Johnny pauses his words for a little as he gazes out the nearby window toward where the young man who refuses to die has a Dzil beaten into him. He can't see him through the streets and buildings of concrete and stone, but Wyatt's there—still training a week later.

I always thought his resilience came from that artifact or his family name.

Now I know the truth.

He's just that damned stubborn.

"Wyatt and Virgil will probably have to pull more than their fair share this time. The duo is quite something. Two 5th Sigils killing an Angel... even with Bonfire, Abraham, and Earl's help, it's impressive. The Wendigo and the Wraith. I can just imagine the haunting stories in the future, can't you?"

I chuckle a bit at Johnny's words. People always overembellish tales and feats. Though...

"They won't have to exaggerate that kid."

The man across from me nods as the waiter comes to us with two plates of food, meant for us.

"No, they won't. No, they won't."

I dig into the food the moment it's before me, only remembering to act more reserved after I already have a frog leg in my mouth. Glancing up sheepishly, I find Johnny smiling, his golden pupils directly focused on me. He stares directly into my eyes, as if admiring my soul.

My heart flutters before I quickly look back to my food and keep eating. I try not to gaze at him while I eat a bit slower.

"Act like yourself, Blake. Just 'cause we're this... doesn't mean you can't. I've seen you eat a raw snake before. You ain't gonna scare me away."

His stern yet caring words pull my eyes back up to him. I can feel my cheeks wet from tears as I open my mouth to speak, but Lennox beats me to it with a half-dozen frog legs in his stone maw.

"What's 'this'? Are you two, ma and pa?"

I go red throughout my whole face as I turn to face Lennox, but Johnny only laughs while I sputter and fail to speak.

"Y-y-y-!"

"No, no, we're not, Lennox. You just keep eating, bud."

"Then what are you? Are you still human?"

Even Johnny sighs at this question, and I can't help but face the table, unable to look up.

"Yes. We're human, Lennox."

"Well-!"

"Eat."

"Okay."

*************************

Abraham 'Nightmare' Ulren

"Fuck you!"

"No, fuck you!"

The heat of the flames dances before me as my rival transforms into a living inferno, his body engulfed in blazing fire that burns with an intensity matched only by his fierce determination. My heart races in tandem with the adrenaline coursing through my veins, a mixture of excitement and trepidation as I prepare to face Bonfire again.

Every day at 1 O'clock sharp, we've dueled for a simple, singular reason.

We're broke.

We literally have no money. So, we get the people of Blackstone to bet on us, and we make a little bit of money to eat with. Sure, we could ask Johnny for help, but that's no fun.

Plus... he wouldn't give Bonfire any, knowing he'd gamble it away. And... I'm not all that much better. But at least I'd save money for the essentials. I'm not that boneheaded.

Several dozen figures watch us from afar while we stand over a hundred feet apart, preparing to fight.

Also... that fight with Sequester taught us something.

We're weak. Virgil and Wyatt, two people who used to be below us in Sigil and might, overtook us. That ain't gonna happen again.

Why not get paid while training?

A whistle from a man in the crowd prompts our duel to begin, the piercing shriek howling into both our ears like a gunshot.

With a quick, fluid motion, I summon forth the figures of my Nightmares from the depths of my mind. Over the past months, they've become more accessible to conjure than before, and soon, I might even manage a fourth. They materialize around me, a trio of knights, each embodying a different aspect of my fears. Cirn's manifestation wields a massive greatsword, its blade gleaming in the fiery light with apathetic ambition, while, the second, Mislo draws back the string of a bow with the steady precision of an uncaring killer. The third, Silo, a Nightmare I rarely use due to his challenging-to-wield weapon, fields a sinister scythe, its curved blade glinting as it catches the ambient glow with hints of joyful suffering.

As the Nightmares take form, they move with an eerie unity under my command. I have them fan out in a circular motion as they mirror my thoughts and intentions. Bonfire, however, is not a man to let himself get trapped. I would say I have my Nightmares engage Bonfire, but he's the one to press the issue first. The sound of clashing steel and roaring flames fills the air around us as Bonfire charges at Cirn first. The Councilmember with the greatsword moves with powerful grace, dodging a gout of flame before swinging at Bonfire. Mislo takes aim with uncanny accuracy at the same time. The scythe-wielder moves with a haunting fluidity, the blade spinning in a deadly arc that defies gravity, as I've been practicing with it far too much lately.

But even with the convergence of all three, they do little to my rival. Cirn's greatsword flutters through Bonfire's flesh as it turns to flame, while Mislo's arrow streaks beyond the blaze. Only Silo's attack finds purchase, digging into Bonfire's right leg as the Nahullo's primary skill is about enhancing his weapon. It seems with adept Ether control in a blade or attack, one can still strike Bonfire through his Absolution skill. Cirn is all about endurance, speed, and strength, while Mislo is precision and lethality. Among my Nightmares, few have the bizarre tendency to fill their weapons with Ether which affects creatures made of air.

Emmet Knox quickly retaliates, striking for Silo while I command the other two to defend him. And even as the battle rages, I split my focus, reaching into the recesses of my consciousness to pull out Ether and affect Bonfire. With a deft exertion of will and Ether, I slow the fiery man's arms, creating an effect that feels almost dreamlike as Silo ducks a wave of fire. But, I quickly release the skill as Force puts a hefty weight upon my mind, even for short uses.

The flames that surround him lose some of their ferocity as his movements become less fluid from another slash of Silo's landing. The intense blue flames that once licked at the edges of his being begin to flicker, the heat waning as the effect of my Nightmare's damage takes hold. I'm gradually growing more adept at retrieving the implements of my Nightmares, and I hope that when I become an Angel, the Power based on my Nightmares will receive a massive boon in that area.

It's a delicate dance, a battle of wills and mastery over the mind that unfolds in the midst of the chaotic clash. Bonfire is a fighter of chaos and mettle, while I prefer to dabble in focus and preciseness. It's a great way to learn the other side, but my focus wanes for a moment as I think of the future of my power.

My father... he could use any skill someone had while alive.

My steps turn sluggish as I lose concentration, and Silo is promptly melted from within. Pain spikes into my skull, and I fall to my knees, urging Urbin to come out and help end the fight. But I'm too slow, and Bonfire blasts himself over to me, placing a hand upon the back of my neck. It's heated, but not enough to hurt. One fuckup and that's all it takes to lose against him.

"Seems I won this one, huh? What was that about? I've never seen you lose your grit like that."

Coins trade hands in the background as the crowd begins to thin, the battle over ten times faster than usual. Silo is the best to hurt his flaming form, but Urbin can as well. Mislo, too, when she has time to prepare a powerful arrow.

Kneeling, I answer honestly to the man who's become a close friend from a once minor enemy. A year ago, we would have fought seeing each other. Not to the death, but close enough.

"My father. I... He's dead. It's---"

"A lot. I know. Come on. Get up."

Bonfire lets down a hand that quickly transforms back into cool flesh, offering it to me. I take it, and the man pulls me to my feet, patting me on the shoulder.

"No family left?"

I shake my head first, then change my mind and nod.

"No. My family is dead. I have some half-brothers and sisters, but the only ones I ever saw as family were my mother and my father. And... the Silent Scorpion killed the Viceroy."

My friend wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me along the street, leading me somewhere. I follow him without defiance as he tells a bit of his past. I know most of it, but not all of it.

"My dear old dad was a bastard as well. Though, he's been dead far longer than yours. It's odd. I've felt it. The empty loss that you hate being empty at all. Because no matter how evil or terrible, there were some pleasant moments. There were moments where they cared. There were moments when they were fathers. Oh, what I'd give to have someone like Johnny as a father. Blows all Hell that his daughter passed."

I nod along with him, feeling that exact same emptiness. I despise that it's there at all. I hate it so much. I just want to stab it out of me. But I can't. It's not physical.

Forcing myself away from using Allude to feel Emmet's thoughts, I trail after him through the streets of Blackstone as I realize something. He's from here. Not just Blackreach but Blackstone as a city. The knowledge only stops me for a moment before I continue.

We walk, we walk, and we walk. For over half an hour, we traverse through the stone city. Gradually, the scenery becomes more ramshackle and poor. Edward has done what he can to help those who live there, primarily by opening and building better housing, which leaves most of this slum empty of life and blood. Eventually, however, we come before a decrepit building. I glance at Bonfire oddly as he stares upward at the two-story structure. Trash is strewn all over, and the whole place looks abandoned. But Bonfire doesn't hesitate or wait.

The man simply lights a flame in his hand for light while waving me forward, entering through the ajar door.

I know where we are without him having to say anything. This is where he grew up. This is where he ran away from.

Stepping up the broken stairs, I follow after him. He's silent when we enter, but after the rotten floorboards creak, he breaks the quiet.

"My sister and I lived here with my father. I ditched the place and never looked back twenty or so years ago. Sometimes, Abraham, it's better to forget. I know your crazy mind can't do that, but time changes things. Here, come see."

Bonfire hops up a flight of ruined stairs, the things hardly holding his weight. Again, I pursue. The creaking floor beneath me is uncomfortable and worrisome, but Emmet leads me into a side room on the second floor.

And there, I find a skeleton—a man's frame by the size of it. The smell is awful, but the sap's obviously been dead for a long time. Having an idea of who it is, I shift my pupils to Bonfire. The man stares down at the corpse, not with sadness or remorse, but hate. I recognize the gaze as similar to my own.

"That's my dad. Died two years after I left—dunno where Remy went. Don't even know if she's still alive. That's my only regret. I wish I took her with me. Not that I could have taken care of her, though. I wasn't even capable of caring for myself."

I nod solemnly, figuring that his sister must be either long gone or dead by now. Those in the slums don't do all that well. That only started to change recently with Edward.

"Have you tried to look for her?"

Bonfire shakes his head up and down sadly.

"Yeah. After I got a Sigil, I figured I had the power to save her. But... she was gone, and dear old dad here kicked the bucket. Killed because of his debt. The gang took everything he had; I'm guessing they took Remy, too. By the time I looked into the gang, though, they were already wiped out by another."

He pauses for another moment before finishing his rant with a short laugh. I return him a small chuckle as well.

"My father was awful. So was yours. But dear Devil, will Wyatt never stop talking about Edmund."

Silence falls as we stare at the skeleton, some minor strips of flesh still present. Even twenty years of decay wasn't enough to rid him of this world entirely. On the other hand, people like Edmund and Johnny...

Slowly, I feel why Bonfire brought me here. He's showing me that, in the end, our fathers mean nothing if they were terrible after they pass. But the good ones, the good people who don't even need to be a proper father, remain long after their deaths.

"Thank you."

I send him thanks, and Bonfire simply nods and faces me.

"Be better. That's all we can do, right? Be like Edmund. Like Johnny. Like Edward. You see his wife? I don't think Wyatt noticed, or he woulda said something, but I see the baby bump. We best keep that man alive."

I nod and make him a promise, something I seem to do quite often with him.

"Of course. I'll do my best. Can't let any kids grow up on the streets alone or imprisoned in an icy tower."